Invisible Battle Scars

Posted on Mon Oct 21st, 2024 @ 1:35pm by Captain Abigail Laurens & Lieutenant Veznia MD PSyD

Mission: Let The Games Begin
Location: Counselor's Office

Abigail sat comfortably enough in the counselor's office, at least to outward appearances, but deep within there was a sense of unease she was not able to quash. "I keep expecting calls from him," she said softly, casting a glance toward the counselor before her eyes drifted around the room once more. "The journal he gave me is still sitting on my desk, I can't bring myself to put it away. I just keep writing in it, like he said... so when we meet again he'll have a record of everything I've done."

She sighed heavily and pulled a long braid over her shoulder, tugging at the elastic to release the braid before shaking her head. "I still can't believe he's gone."

Her face puffed a little as Veznia nodded. She hadn't had close connections aboard Pennsylvania like the Captain, and some others on the crew. "I think that the writing can be good for you." The Denobulan truly thought it could be a good thing.

There was a pause, a long moment of silence as Abigail contemplated the words the counselor had spoken. "Perhaps," she said softly. "It feels... I don't know... wrong?" She sighed heavily and leaned back in the seat. "I don't know how else to explain it."

Vez tilted her head slightly. "What about it specifically feels wrong to you?" She asked, her voice was warm and comforting. She understood that grief wasn't a cut and dry process and everyone felt things differently, so now she had to determine how Abigail was experiencing her own grief.

"Writing, specifically writing in the journal, was a way to feel connected, like I was telling him about my day, about things that happened, about what was going on here while we were apart." She shook her head slightly. "I don't know, I can't really even put my own words into it, but every time I look at that journal now I just feel emptiness."

It wasn't often Veznia felt a pull at her heart when she was working. But she had become close with her Captain. "Why do you suppose that is? The emptiness you feel when you look at the journal?"

"I don't know..." She shrugged slightly. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that writing in my journal was something I always associated with Dirk. The words I wrote were intended for him. Now, well..." She drew in a deep, shaky breath. "He's gone."

"So it's as though your writing has lost a purpose." Veznia nodded, basically paraphrasing what Abigail had just admitted to her. "What else have been doing to keep busy off duty?" The Denobulan woman shifted in her seat and made herself more comfortable.

"Off duty?" Abigail repeated softly before she gave a slight shrug. "I spend as little time off duty as possible, and when I do, I shower and sleep. I try to not have free time on my hands."

Vez bit her lip as she took in what the Captain was saying. "Why is that do you think?" She asked very plainly. "Most officers look forward to their time off and fill it with their various recreational pastimes, or to simply relax.

"I find my job relaxing," she replied simply. "Being off duty is more stressful and I prefer to keep my finger on the pulse as much as possible, so to speak. Decisions are easier made if you're aware of them before they become critical."

Veznia cocked her head to the side slightly. "Let's explore that a bit. You say that being off duty is stressful. Has that always been your take on it, or is it something new?"

"I think I've always felt that way," she said quietly. "Dirk gave me an excuse to be off duty, a reason other than just sitting in my quarters. I find mundane tasks... well... mundane. It's not like the Captain can really spend a lot of time socialising with her crew, not without potential reprisal in terms of perceived favouritism or other favours, and being in the Delta Quadrant it's hardly like we can pop over to Starbase 332 for some shore leave as we please."

"So a lot of your worry stems from keeping professional distance from your subordinates?" Veznia nodded making a short note on her PADD.

"Perhaps," Abigail replied softly then shrugged. "I'm sorry Lieutenant, I'm sitting here rambling. I've probably already taken up more than enough of your time."

The Denobulan nodded, and sat forward a bit. "Why don't we carve out some time next week?" Veznia said, not quite asking, but suggesting that this should continue. "In fact I can fit you weekly going forward." She held a PADD with her schedule and swiped through some dates. "Sound like a plan?"

"I suppose..." Abigail replied, though the tone of her voice remained non-committal. She stood up gracefully, tugging the hem of her jacket down and smoothing her uniform over her hips. "Thank you Lieutenant," she offered a smile. "As always, your services are appreciated." Without waiting for a response, Abigail walked quietly across the room and exited quietly. It was only when the dark haired Commanding Officer stepped into the turbolift that she exhaled a shaky breath, closing her eyes as she leaned back against the wall, a single tear sneaking from the corner of her closed eye, leaving a glistening trail down her cheek. "I miss you."