The headaches have been getting more and more severe as time went in. She was starting to feel like she was never going to get relief from it. Without the ability to tell anyone about the condition she was in, she wouldn't find a cute or at least a way to deal with the changes. And maybe if they could work on it the headaches might stop
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It was bad enough when it was just the occasional headaches, but now it's affecting her social habits as well--she seems to be getting more reclusive, which just isn't right for someone who's as outgoing as she is. That's what concerns him more than anything. That has to be a sign of something deeply wrong, and though he keeps trying and trying to avoid this particular conclusion, the evidence of the situation points to some severe, perhaps even terminal illness on her part. And she won't tell him, or seek help, no matter how he urges and persuades ( ... )
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"It certainly doesn't feel good," she answers sarcastically. She doesn't know if there is a better way to go about this but perhaps it's time to leave. "I can't eat anymore. I have some work to get caught up on." The lie is transparent. She needs an excuse to get out of this room with this many minds. She stands, taking her tray to clear her place, but she stops when she feels slightly lightheaded and sits down again.
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He doesn't understand why she's leaving so abruptly, unless perhaps she's angry at him for prying, but if she is, that's too bad, because he's going to pursue her anyway. He gets up to follow, meaning to argue some more, but when she sits down with what looks like a rush of dizziness, his concern grows sharply more severe.
"Doctor, you are obviously unwell. Your judgment regarding your own health is clearly compromised. I will be escorting you to sickbay." There will be no argument. He'll carry her, if he has to.
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Her telepathy is her secret. She doesn't want anyone to know and she doesn't want to burden him.
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