#HELLO I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE SOULD. that's 2575 words just for Mel

[izzysarchivedblogs]

[ hold ] one muse cradles the other’s face between their hands ground them. 

// Make it Linda holding his face pls maybe?

@thefleetsfinest -> here's that into darkness thing we were talking about

Where to begin with the past several ⸻honestly, she hasn't been keeping track of the time and in the following days, Linda would come to find how short a time that everything had happened.

From apprehending a man, three hundred years old, to the Enterprise being fired upon; it happened in rapid succession one thing after the next thing after the next. Lives lost, that's the most important sticking fact to her. Linda had been scared along with everyone else, but she knew her role and the face she had to wear. A brave face, stepped right up and she had been intensive situations before.

When the ship first arrived, transporter and shuttles being used to land on the planet. Precautions taken, protective equipment worn and masses of people getting sick, dying. The first week were the roughest, assessment of a situation that was worse than the initial information that they had received. It was awful, made her feel ill and shed tears in the one moment alone she'd find.

They helped people, that's what a hospital ship was for. Helping, bringing supplies, relief and aid. Crisis. Linda's proven to herself that she could handle that, after so many years of medical school and training, and she knew she could. When she had been there, it really had tested her.

The Captain didn't die there nor had there been a three hundred year old war criminal and an Admiral who gone so far with what he had done. Linda was sure when the shock wore off for everyone there will be reports and all the sort of stuff that even before she considered Starfleet, stuff Linda hadn't cared for. The talk, all the bureaucracy of everything. It wouldn't be at the top of her concerns, that would go to the Chief Medical Officer. There would be a funeral after for everyone lost.

Linda's already got the number in her head, or at least a guess from before they were even pulled out of the Enterprise after it was all over. She knows her people, knows the ship crew and size. It's not hard to keep Help coming, taking accounting and the count was one less than what it was The Captain, something that may have felt sort of him playing at being a god; that's one of the things that any medical professional all secretly thought they could play at, when it came to saving lives and Chief Mccoy had done it. He had played god, and it was remarkable. Her eyes couldn't look away from him.

Khan's blood had done it, revived a dead tribble and the Captain's only had just died. Livor mortis sets in at twenty minutes, that had been the window of time that felt like a miracle. Tribble starts breathing and brain function was first to save, the heart could be fine for up to an order and the heart valves for a day. She was able to work with that when Dr. Marcus and Chief Mccoy had put Jim Kirk in cryo to preserve what function was there.

That had been rush, she's not even sure how many hours had gone by once they had Khan, and begin transfusing blood. She had a hand in this, father wrote the modern book on hearts published multiple journals about congenial heart diseases, she was keeping an eye on the Captain's heart, made sure it was pumping properly as the blood transfusion had began. Carol Marcus and Leonard Mccoy worked on everything else while she was the monitor.

THE CAPTAIN LIVES. A miracle, and she's sure now that they had him in a hospital bed. Lungs breathing and brain function appearing present. The blood had left Jim heavily irradiated, and he's been out cold but alive. It's incredible, and her eye haven't left Leonard. They had already been looking, before he played a god, before any of this. Her eyes have been on him, chest went incredibly tight when they knew that Jim had died, watched the way that he went tense; held himself together and than dropped down at a bench, the bench with the tribble.

She couldn't move, shared that moment of silence with everyone. She had been attending to a crewman, she couldn't recall who, but her eyes had went to Leonard and watched him hold his face in his hand. His friend had just died, and he hadn't been there. Linda had watched, pinpointed the moment as the tribble began breathing how his mind had begun to work. Eureka in those blues as he runs a test, as he makes the order to get Kirk into a cryo pod. She had been monitoring those.

Preserve as much brain function, had to be fast and Linda's still watching him. Kirk's in coma, but he's alive and going to recover. There's much to worry about him still, irradiated cells and blood pumping through his body; that puts his heart on overtime, there was so much that could still go wrong. There is that chance that he won't wake up, or an unforeseen neurological change within Kirk when, if he wakes up.

It was four days post, and it's catching up to him. There's something tight between his shoulder blades as he's monitoring the Captain. Linda notices how he had been dry swallowing, jaw clenching and she can guess at a grinding of his teeth. She's aware that he hasn't had a moment alone, reports and talk, being in here to monitor Kirk himself. Linda knows why he does that, long chat about anything and everything. Jim was his best friend, and he put himself at risk and died. Revival wouldn't matter.

I can keep watching him, and she would continue monitoring him. There's nothing to update, his body was healing. He lived. She takes over, or tries to when she can. Enforce that she won't work under the Chief if he's not taking any care of himself. Linda doesn't know what he does when she stands in the door way and refuses him to entrance. As the days drag on to two weeks, Linda knows she's wearing herself thin but she's holding on better.

It's nothing to comparable like anything before, but she's had experiences and someone had to. It's as it reaches two weeks, and Jim Kirk wakes up, that Linda is certain he's not sleeping. That was already a given, but he's really not doing well. Jim's awake, and than there's something, as they were both leaving for the evening. Linda knows not to presume how someone will react to anything. Heart transplant, and the young woman excited to have a new lease on life comes back one month later sobbing for the heart to be ripped put and left with a dead heart.

His best friend was alive, awake now, and he seems defeated, heartbroken. Linda tries to say something, call him back. Hey Chief, you, uh, and she chokes on that. Try to get some sleep, Mccoy, I mean it. She was really worried about him, should have just said that. Admit that she watches, pays attention, and he's her friend. Close friend, possibly her best friend on the ship. She should have just aid that, she's shown the concern before but come on, Carter. She knows that her noticing him was more.

It's hours later, and Linda's gotten sleep and she's his friend, call him or better yet he told her where's his apartment. She's up early, way early enough that it makes it an odd hour, most people don't show up at seven am but they knew each other's sleep schedules. He'd be awake and he'd appreciate good coffee.

That's how she ended up in front of his San Francisco apartment, and he does answer to her. AND THE SIGHT OF HIM ⸻ Oh, he was drunk, not just hung over but like he still was nursing a drink. There really had been something bothering him, whatever it was after Jim had woken up. ❝ I'm guessing you're hoping that I had brought an Irish coffee. ❞ She comes in, won't let him take back opening the door to her.

❝ I don't mind the state or the mess. ❞ She's in, and he was sad; must've been mulling over something all night.

Cursory glance around the place, mostly searching for what was his poison was. She takes in the little kitchen, the living room with the bookshelves. Another time, maybe she could browse them and take her pick of things. Really, what she was doing was looking for his poison. One large bottle, and a glass sitting to be filled. There's maybe less than half of the glass worth left. It's got to be a strong proof, and he was going to have one hell of a hangover that was not going to be polite with him.

Linda knows that this was heavy to be dealing with, and she's got to weight her options with him. Decides, however, that he was done at least and one more was only going to make him hurt him. She goes to pour the final glass, and drinks it herself. It's not to show off, but she finishes off the rest in a go. ❝ You don't have the worst taste but there is better whiskeys. ❞ A soft muse, poor attempt at humor she knows. Linda knows her liquor, ❝ Poker with ol' pops, no Doctor Carter in this family wasn't going to not know the good drinks from the bad drinks. ❞

She explains, just to be talking and show that it was okay. She was here, and she wasn't going anywhere; no judgements either. Linda sets the glass down, next to the coffees and leaning down, reaches to take off her shoes. ❝ Come on, floor time, no saying no. Indulge me. ❞ Linda goes to get water instead, because coffee wasn't the trick to countering alcohol consumption. It was the trick to hiding alcohol consumption.

He'll know what that means, over the year they've been working together and they'd end up in his office, sitting on the floor. Shoes became optional, once they felt like were friends and Linda admitted while her shoes were comfortable she rather have them off. So floor time, no shoes, and they'd just sit and talk. Take a moment to just be before they were back to work. It's their thing, what she'd do for a friend.

She moves the coffee table away from the couch to make room for them on the floor. Sits herself in front of his couch, back against it than pats the spot directly next to him and looks at him expectantly. Come on, she's his friend and she's watched him for two weeks wear himself to the. . . . the bone; she knows his nickname, the pun wasn't intended. There's concern on all fronts, but Linda wasn't letting her friend continue or be alone.

They sit, just quiet for a moment and she just focuses on her breathing. ❝ So, that was a lot, sweeping it under the rug? ❞ She starts, trying to speculate perhaps where some of this was coming from. ❝ Christ, I am doing alright or I will be, will be okay again after some time. Nothing like what I've worked under before. ❞ She starts with herself, just talks and tell him about the rush of the day it was, along with the lead up. Admits she was scared, worried for him a lot of it.

❝ First week on planet, the masses. . . . Fifty patients about every nurse and doctor; thirty eight of those first fifty under my watch died. ❞ She's talking about her last ship she had been aboard, giving him some context for where he was at with her feeling. How she handled everything there. She had lost fellow nurses and doctors too, who got infected but that wasn't admitted. Linda will tell Leonard everything he wants to know anytime, about her past assignment or more.

This time, it all happened so fast and they lost crew mates and friends. Linda talks about that, how she may won't feel the effects until a few more days later and the ship; their home for the time was in dry dock for colossal repair. Talks about herself, and perhaps she shouldn't when Leonard is drunk. It just might help, to know she feels it all too.

Linda knows he's drunk, knows there's the chance he's maybe not going to remember parts of this. Aware of his state, but he's alone and he needs a friend; and Linda's concerned for him. So she's hear, and talking. She notices how he was leaning into her, seeking physical contact, and she turns to him. Gives him something more, connection as well, to see in her eyes.

Her hand goes to cup his cheek, hold his face and really look him in the eyes. Thumb brushes slowly, barely skimming over his skin. Her face displays the fullness of her concern, of her care, her best friend since meeting him on the Enterprise. ❝ Hey, hey ⸺ you can let yourself breath, and feel, and you can rest. ❞ She tells him, her lips a part and she means that.

Hopes that she was reaching him, and she has a thought. ❝ He woke up, you saved him and he saved everyone, than died. You weren't there for that, but you were there to save him and he's awake cause of you. ❞ Pure speculation, and she'll admit to that. ❝ You saved your friend, Leonard, that's enough. ❞

Linda continues to hold his face, thumb still moving so slowly over its place. ❝ Talk to me, how I can help you, Chief, I really worried about you and please, tell me what upset you today. ❞ She pleas, and waits and than she listens. Continue to hold his face, or hug him and be his friend. SHE LISTENS WHEN HE TALKS, EVERY WORD, AND DOESN'T LOOK AWAY UNTIL HE WANTS HER TO.

Her hand doesn't stray from his face, and she knows, she knows, she knows. But he's drunk, and this was just friends. That would be okay for Linda. Eventually, they will get up and leave the floor, his apartment. When that happens, Linda presses her thumb gently into skin and rubs again. ❝ Hey, you slipped and this is one hell of a hangover to have, but Leonard? You got through it, in a terrifying time and you did something incredible, and we can talk about that too. ❞

There's a lot of ethics brushed on there and thoughts, she liked their debates and slow day philosophical wanders. Adored those times, and she had so many thoughts about what he had did. There is the god topic, and than seeing how he worked, how he saved hiss friend. A lot to discuss. Later, that's all for later.

❝ You were strong than, and you'll be strong again, and with help if you ask for it, which I am right here, you're my best friend and of course, I'd help you ⸻ speaking of hell hangovers, you're getting water, doctor's orders, and we're gonna go eat now. Doctor's orders too. ❞ Linda's assuming he'll ride the hangover out, instead of curing it medically. Thumb brush one more time, than she's up to get him more water to drink. AFTER THEY'LL GO EAT.