AWD #009: Intervention
PWD #09: Intervention
Summary: Simon and Andromeda come to terms with the death of Madeline Cervantes.
Date: 14/01/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Andromeda Noble 
Marine Enlisted Berthings - Battlestar Orion
Housing for a whole company of Marines plus headquarters support staff requires more than one hundred bunks for the Marines' enlisted personnel. Divided into two primary bunkhouses, each one holds sixty bunks, one bunk stacked over another against the wall with a table between each row and a thin bulkhead between the sections. Rather than the blue curtains of the naval enlisted, each bunk has a dark green barrier with the crest of the CMC done in black. The lockers for the Marines are triple the size of the Navy's allowances, each locker holding a Marine's personal bodyarmor and several different sets of uniforms plus combat webbing and helmet. The space physically provided in the lockers might be larger, but the allowance for personal space is less, though the drawers beneath each bunk help alleviate the problem somewhat.
Jan 14, 2005

Since returning from Avery Hall, and the death of the JTAC, Andromeda has been an almost completely different person. Oh, it's nothing terribly obvious; The Corpsman is a bit of a cast iron bitch at the best of times, hard to read. It's in the little things. Like rarely spending much time in the Berthings, except to sleep when she isn't on leave. Not really having much to do with anyone, although that might be the fact Medbay's been so busy.

Having just finished a shift in the Medbay, into the Berthings she comes, expression unreadable as she walks to her bunk and pulls out a set of off-duty uniform and begins to strip out of her scrubs.

Paper shifts in the bunk beneath Andromedas as Simon Noble peeks out from behind his magazine. His careless, green eyes blink as he takes a few seconds to read the expression on her face. Typically, this is where they would talk, but it's been days. Days.

Rolling up the magazine and setting it aside, Simon slips off of his bunk and straightens his off-duties, walking over to lean against Andromeda's locker. He brushes the corner of his jaw, scraping his fingers over his five o'clock shadow. Trying to lean his head enough to get eye contact with her, he frowns and keeps his voice low.

"Hey. You wanna go get some dinner, Andromeda?"

Andromeda's expression is expressive in it's expressionlessness. With perfect efficiency, off the comes the scrubs, and on comes the off-duties; Apparently field dressing is good for a wound. Andromeda's chest injury has left only a thin scar, running down her chest. The sports bra holding her.. ah.. features flat mostly hides it.

Rather than answering Noble immediately, the Corpsman takes a deep, generous pull of that flask of hers, swallowing several times and grimacing at the burn of alcohol in her system. "Just got done assisting with a surgery, Noble. Don't really have much of an appetite."

She's Andromeda, someone that Simon hasn't ever tried to get into bed with, or so the rumors say. When she strips down, he averts his eyes but doesn't move away; comfortable with her. Instead, he folds his arms and lets out a little nod of his head while he thumbs the hairs on his forearm.

"Wanna hit the gym then? I'll hold the bag?" He asks, choosing another carrot from his repertoire to dangle in front of her. "I was hoping to get some Andromeda time in today."

She is masculine almost to the point of sexlessness. It's less about the boobies and more about the scar, anyways. "Already did PT." Andromeda says, "I'm not suppose to strain my chest with too much activity outside work and PT." And she takes another couple of knocks of her flask, grimacing yet again from the burn.

She considers him for several moments, expressionless, and then shrugs. "I'll hold the bag for you, though."

"I'm alright. I was more interested in giving you something to beat on because you don't look like you're doing well." He turns his head back to her, concealing his teeth in a tight-lipped frown to match his worried eyes. Narrowing one eye, he brings a hand up to his ear to scratch at it lightly, chasing away whatever was pricking his skin and making it itch. He steps in a little closer, lowering his voice. "I'm not gonna be your psych or anything, but…damn, it looks like you could use a friend right now and you know I'm that guy." A beat. "You wanna talk?"

"No." Andromeda slams her locker shut. Hard. "I don't want to talk." She says softly, eyes empty. "I want this frakking feeling to go away." She takes a third, even deeper drink from her flask, grimacing and closing her eyes for a moment. "It's so much easier to feel nothing than this."

"I wasn't there, Noble." Andromeda says it softly, eyes and voice both empty. "I bullied the med team into letting me out of there on light duty, and she died. And I wasn't there." Andromeda shakes her head slowly, "Even at the worst, even when I was having to kill children and do medicine at the same time, I never let someone die alone."

Simon's face slackens as her issue comes out quickly, and his stomach suddenly feels a pale, hungry place. He pushes against the locker, rescuing himself from his lean and lets his fingertips slip from her arm. For a second, he just stands there, not knowing what to say and looking down at her feet. Finally, it comes.

"Drama. I think that's how she wanted it. She gave me the ring, said her goodbyes. It doesn't make it any less worse, and I'm gonna miss her like crazy, but…I think she wanted to be alone." He looks to Andromeda's face, hopeful. "I think she wanted to spare us being there for it."

"It was selfish of her." Andromeda says flatly, moving to sit down on Noble's bunk. After all, it's right there. "But, frankly, I don't care about what she wanted. I have no control over that. I have control over myself, and that's it." Once again, that flask comes out. "I was self-centered, and selfish, and she died because of it." And she knocks back several gulps.

Chewing his lip, Simon turns and lowers himself to crouch in front of Andromeda with a hand on her knee. Settling his body in front of hers, he lowers his head to stare at the no-slip coating on the floor and sighs. "I know." The words come out whispered, hanging in the air while he takes another half-minute pause. "I'd be telling myself the same thing. I'm busting myself up on the inside about Lews; kid took one right next to me. I told him I'd look out for him." He flattens his lips and claws his fingers around her knee.

"We gotta keep moving, Andy. She didn't die because of you. She died because of them and she let herself go."

"The only people we can ever hold responsible for things that go wrong are ourselves, Simon." Andro says, same tone as Simon, "They will take plenty of us. Have killed plenty of us. But the difference is that I could have done something. I'd seen her charts. I'd watched the abnormalities in the monitor. I was just so concerned with getting out of there I didn't bother to pay enough attention."

"Andromeda." Simon's voice firms up a little bit as his concerned face lifts to find eye contact with her. His eyebrows take on that stern, soldier look. "And what about if you excused yourself to the restroom? Or someone came in on code blue? Or what if a bomb got set off while you weren't there? She wanted to go, Andromeda, and there isn't anything that you could do about that, you might have been able to keep her going a little longer, maybe, but you know she was dying." He squeezes her leg again, shaking his head. "I'm so…so frakking sorry, darlin. I missed it, too."

"There's a difference between that, and what happened, Simon." Her eyes are still empty, and Andromeda gets to her feet. "I'm going to hit the head for a shower. I'll catch you tomorrow for dinner, okay?"

"Hey." Simon reaches out for her arm, grabbing it firmly, but not hard. He's not stopping her from going anywhere. He leans in again and gives her the respect of not trying to hug her, instead he borders on her periphery. "My gut's telling me to follow you. I'm not gonna let you drop. Do you need a shadow for a little while?"

Andromeda jerks her arm out of Simon's. "I'm a devotee of Asclepius." Andromeda almost growls, "I won't do anything to harm myself like that." She shakes her head. "I need space, Simon. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but back off. At least for now. Go have dinner with Sera, or something."

"Alright." Simon takes his arm back. It's quite easy to do so, the way it's thrown back at him. Like a pyramid player trying to show the ref that the foul wasn't his fault, he holds his arms up in surrender. "I'm gonna be staying at Sera's bunk for a few days, if you need anything. I'll see you tomorrow for dinner."

Andromeda takes another knock of her flask, with a grimace and then another grimace at it's empty stage. She shakes her head. "Yeah. Tomorrow." She says, and makes her way out of the bunks.

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