Ruffled Feathers

Posted on Mon Nov 2nd, 2020 @ 11:38am by Lieutenant JG Ryan Kade III & Lieutenant Commander Alicia Kelea-Salik

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: DS16
Timeline: Day 7
1197 words - 2.4 OF Standard Post Measure

Ryan reached for the button. Centimeters away, his finger twitched. Sudden tingles in his forehead worked their way down his face, then flooded down his spine. It was a warm feeling, itchy and irritating. The recoiling hand redirected to his face, scratching his temples. Was he that nervous?

He followed his usual ritual to fight his fidgeting, straightening his uniform and pinging the metal badge with his index fingernail. That was better.

He reached for the button once again.

Chime.

Alicia was at work doing her job, Connor was in childcare, and she was catching up on the crew counseling appointments. Hearing the chime, she called, “Come in.”

The door opened, and he stepped inside, instinctively coming to a full parade stop. Such diligence usually reflected orderly behavior. Instead, he felt more like a robot, his every move mechanical and forced. He looked up at the counselor, hoping she didn't find it so obvious.

“Hello Ryan” She looked at her PADD, ticking off his arrival on her schedule. “Grab a seat” There were already some jugs of water and juice out on the coffee table with glasses in case anyone wanted a drink. “How are you?”

The chair was excellent, he noted. He could feel a little of the tension draining as he sat down into it, correcting his posture and placing his hands on the armrests.

The question seemed simple enough, so he began to answer, "All things considered, I..." He paused, averting his eyes. He realized how ridiculous it would be to pretend all is well. A professional would see right through him, and lying to make someone else feel better wasn't the point of this exercise. "... I'm not doing all that great." He finally answered.

Alicia took her seat and offered a smile. “Thank you for being so honest. That’s a big first step, you know. This hasn’t been easy on any of us, so tell me about what happened to you. Don’t force it. Just tell me what you feel you can talk about and we’ll go from there. There’s no rush.”

"I'm new here." Ryan began. "I haven't had the chance to get to know anyone." His hands were still on the armrests, gripping them somewhat tighter as he thought of his crewmates, "I barely had more than a shift or two under my belt when it all went south." The breath escaped audibly in a sigh from his lips.

"So much happened, so little time to react. I feel," he looked for the right word, his head and eyes moving slightly as if physically searching for the answer. "Responsible."

Alicia nodded as she listened, noting his physical reaction. “How are you responsible, Ryan? You didn’t kidnap the Captain, nor did you force the crew off the ship. It wasn’t your fault.”

His perfect posture was failing as his shoulders slumped forward. Ryan's uniform sleeves slid off the chair as his forearms fell to his thighs. "I know. It wasn't my fault, but I still feel like I could've done more. I'm supposed to protect. I'm supposed to fight."

He looked back up. "I didn't take down a single enemy during that encounter. Even the allies who were right in front of me got caught and tortured. I got away scot-free."

Alicia nodded. “You’re not the only one, Ryan. There were others.” She understood his anger and frustration. “I know that makes you feel angry! That much I can sense.”

Another sigh left him as he righted himself in the chair. Several strands of his usually backswept hair were out of place, floating over his softening brow line. There was a brief look of concern on his face. He realized how deep the cloud of his emotions had grown and that he was exposing them to a Betazoid.

Ryan cleared his throat, as well as his mind, reeling in his thoughts and tightening his focus. With a slow, deep breath, he tried to smile. "Sorry, ma'am."

“There’s no need to be sorry, Ryan, that’s why I’m here. I help those that need the help.” Alicia offered an understanding smile. “Tell me more.”

He opened his mouth to say something dismissive but thought better of it. He glanced away, again, thinking things through. Was there anything else to say? He was angry, he failed, he wished he could've done more. Was there something else she was seeing that he wasn't?

They're not literal mind readers- not usually, anyway. His father once told him, explaining his multiple psych evals and how he got through them. They don't have the answers, kid. Just remember that. Their whole job is to get you to pull the answers out of yourself. The entire process is a self-fulfilling prophecy, and a waste of time, y'hear?

Ryan smiled, remembering the old man's words. He didn't agree, of course, not being as cerebral as his father.

"To be honest," He finally admitted, "I'm not sure what more there is to say. Is there something you think I'm missing?"

“I think you know as well as I do that you need to talk more of this out” Alicia offered a smile. “You may not have been tortured or altered like some of the crew, but being a survivor is just as difficult. You feel angry, upset, guilty for not getting hurt. Like it should have been you.” She paused. “I understand, I really do. I was a survivor too thanks to my husband.”

Ryan had been nodding in agreement with her words. "You had someone to pull you out of trouble." He remarked, "I know the feeling. My sister gets into all sorts of trouble..." He found himself sighing from the effort of thinking about her, "She's an archaeologist." His eyes rolled, "I think she goes on more dangerous excursions each time just to stress me out. I always wish that I was-"

Ryan paused, realizing something. "I... always wish I could be there to protect her, even if just from her own stupid ideas." He hung his head. "But I know I can't."

“Have you spoken to her about your concerns?” Alicia looked at Ryan curiously. “If not, perhaps you should.”

"I've told her to stay safe, sure..." He replied, looking back up, "I've even done research on where she's going and warned her to stay clear of things I don't like the look of." He leaned back in the chair, "I know, I'm coming off as overbearing and controlling. I've never outright condemned anything she's done, though."

“I’m sure she realizes you’re only looking out for her best interests.” Alicia offered an understanding smile. “I know it’s difficult.”

"It is." He affirmed, taking a deep breath.

There was an awkward pause. Ryan scratched the back of his head, saying "So... uh.... are we good? Am I clear for duty?"

Alicia nodded. “I’ll clear you but I want you to come back and see me in a week’s time okay? Don’t make me chase you!”

"I won't, ma'am." He got up, turning about.