Fic: McCoy/Chapel, When She's gone
Title: When She's Gone
Author/Artist: Helly_uk
Beta: Fringedweller
Rating: Pg-13 (I think)
Warnings: Character death.
Disclaimer:Not mine, I'm just playing...
Summary: Of all the crew members that Leonard dreaded coming through that godforsaken main sick bay door on a gurney...
Note: Written for a challenge on Ship wars.
Of all the crew members that Leonard dreaded coming through that godforsaken main sick bay door on a gurney, Christine Chapel’s prone form being wheeled through was the reality that he’d always dreaded the most.
Tearing her uniform open to gain access to the stab wound she’d received, and pressing his hands over the gaping wound until a nurse could locate the source of the spurting bleed using her scanner, were the things that his nightmares had been made of. It had to be him, he needed to be the one to hold her body together, to touch her and do all he physically could to keep her with him, because he loved her too much.
The minutes of being covered in her blood blurred into an hour of being elbow deep in her chest cavity. Leonard the man had been violently pushed into the back of his mind; the surgeon had knocked him out so that the job could be done.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
When Leonard finally came to he found himself ordering wildly, demanding that the nurses push a strong charge through Christine, and attempting to shock her into life. The surgeon knew she was gone, that there was no hope. He only had to look at the length of time she had been on his table and the scans that showed just how high a percentage of blood loss she’d suffered to know that she was gone.
The man refused to give up so easily and was using his rank to his advantage in an attempt to force his colleagues to continue their futile actions, but they stood still. Instead they stared at him with their sad grief stricken eyes, too respectful of Christine to carry on for any longer, too scared of the older doctor to tell him to stop. He remembered snatching the control to the stimulator from a frightened looking nurse with tear tracks streaked down her face. Leonard then stabbed the command into it that sent further shocks into Christine’s nervous system. Watching as her body convulsed involuntarily, shaking and stuttering like some sort of unnatural being.
Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone,
Like a phaser set on full stun aimed right for his chest, what he was doing to his precious Christine sliced right into his soul. With a strangled guttural groan he touched and deactivated the stimulator, and watch as her body stilled for the very last time. Blood was smudged across her pale skin, and the radiance he was so used to associating with her was no longer present. He refused to believe that such a bright star could be extinguished, and knew that somewhere out there, his Christine lived on. He just wished he knew where.
He lost track of how long he’d been staring at her still form, wondering how he was going to see without his star, how he would feel his way through the darkness without her sharp wit and strong retorts to guide him along the correct path. He’d been a blind man before she’d come along and given him his sight back, and he now knows that he’ll never be able to open his eyes again. Not if they didn’t fall on her. Not if he couldn’t use them to express his love.
He took a moment to look up, glancing at the people that had been staring at him as her life had slipped away from him like sand through his fingers. A few had drifted away, into the darkest corners of sickbay, expressing their grief alone. He knew, just like they did, that if Christine was here, she would give them that hug he had always told her she should patent, finish with a warm smile. Then their tears would vanish.
Their sickbay would never be whole again. He couldn’t fill her shoes, he could never be that comforting person, and he didn’t do hugs, or hell, even smiles. That’s what he needed her for.
And this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away.
There was one nurse that remained present, her deputy, dutifully standing by with the standard kit for the newly deceased. The regenerator to close up wounds and make the body superficially whole, the sonic scrubber to clean them, the mix of chemicals in a hypospray that would stave off the decomposition process long enough for friends and family to say their goodbyes. He had seen his staff start this process countless times, but had never stuck around. He had never seen the need, never thought that a CMO should supervise something as mundane as this process. Until now.
He took the kit from who he supposed was now his head nurse and waved them away. He couldn’t deal with that now. He couldn’t see her replacement, never mind work with her. He picked up the regenerator and worked it over her wounds carefully, almost reverently, as if he was saying a prayer with every flick of his wrist. He watched as the suddenly promoted nurse hesitated. He saw that question in her eyes, wondering if he really should be the one to complete this task. He silenced her unasked question with a glare and continued with his task, placing the generator on the tray as he moved onto the next instrument he needed to complete this task.
Anytime she goes away.
As he worked he glanced up at her face, but had to stop himself and concentrate on the task as a doctor. Her face was so pale; her lips less rosy, her hair even seemed to lack the sunshine glow he usually associated with it. He dropped the scrubber with shock as he heard a loud sob reverberate around the quiet room. It wasn’t until he saw one of his tears fall onto her hand that he realized it had been him.
He would never be able to see again, not in the darkness that she had left behind.
Anytime she goes away.
Author/Artist: Helly_uk
Beta: Fringedweller
Rating: Pg-13 (I think)
Warnings: Character death.
Disclaimer:Not mine, I'm just playing...
Summary: Of all the crew members that Leonard dreaded coming through that godforsaken main sick bay door on a gurney...
Note: Written for a challenge on Ship wars.
Of all the crew members that Leonard dreaded coming through that godforsaken main sick bay door on a gurney, Christine Chapel’s prone form being wheeled through was the reality that he’d always dreaded the most.
Tearing her uniform open to gain access to the stab wound she’d received, and pressing his hands over the gaping wound until a nurse could locate the source of the spurting bleed using her scanner, were the things that his nightmares had been made of. It had to be him, he needed to be the one to hold her body together, to touch her and do all he physically could to keep her with him, because he loved her too much.
The minutes of being covered in her blood blurred into an hour of being elbow deep in her chest cavity. Leonard the man had been violently pushed into the back of his mind; the surgeon had knocked him out so that the job could be done.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
When Leonard finally came to he found himself ordering wildly, demanding that the nurses push a strong charge through Christine, and attempting to shock her into life. The surgeon knew she was gone, that there was no hope. He only had to look at the length of time she had been on his table and the scans that showed just how high a percentage of blood loss she’d suffered to know that she was gone.
The man refused to give up so easily and was using his rank to his advantage in an attempt to force his colleagues to continue their futile actions, but they stood still. Instead they stared at him with their sad grief stricken eyes, too respectful of Christine to carry on for any longer, too scared of the older doctor to tell him to stop. He remembered snatching the control to the stimulator from a frightened looking nurse with tear tracks streaked down her face. Leonard then stabbed the command into it that sent further shocks into Christine’s nervous system. Watching as her body convulsed involuntarily, shaking and stuttering like some sort of unnatural being.
Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone,
Like a phaser set on full stun aimed right for his chest, what he was doing to his precious Christine sliced right into his soul. With a strangled guttural groan he touched and deactivated the stimulator, and watch as her body stilled for the very last time. Blood was smudged across her pale skin, and the radiance he was so used to associating with her was no longer present. He refused to believe that such a bright star could be extinguished, and knew that somewhere out there, his Christine lived on. He just wished he knew where.
He lost track of how long he’d been staring at her still form, wondering how he was going to see without his star, how he would feel his way through the darkness without her sharp wit and strong retorts to guide him along the correct path. He’d been a blind man before she’d come along and given him his sight back, and he now knows that he’ll never be able to open his eyes again. Not if they didn’t fall on her. Not if he couldn’t use them to express his love.
He took a moment to look up, glancing at the people that had been staring at him as her life had slipped away from him like sand through his fingers. A few had drifted away, into the darkest corners of sickbay, expressing their grief alone. He knew, just like they did, that if Christine was here, she would give them that hug he had always told her she should patent, finish with a warm smile. Then their tears would vanish.
Their sickbay would never be whole again. He couldn’t fill her shoes, he could never be that comforting person, and he didn’t do hugs, or hell, even smiles. That’s what he needed her for.
And this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away.
There was one nurse that remained present, her deputy, dutifully standing by with the standard kit for the newly deceased. The regenerator to close up wounds and make the body superficially whole, the sonic scrubber to clean them, the mix of chemicals in a hypospray that would stave off the decomposition process long enough for friends and family to say their goodbyes. He had seen his staff start this process countless times, but had never stuck around. He had never seen the need, never thought that a CMO should supervise something as mundane as this process. Until now.
He took the kit from who he supposed was now his head nurse and waved them away. He couldn’t deal with that now. He couldn’t see her replacement, never mind work with her. He picked up the regenerator and worked it over her wounds carefully, almost reverently, as if he was saying a prayer with every flick of his wrist. He watched as the suddenly promoted nurse hesitated. He saw that question in her eyes, wondering if he really should be the one to complete this task. He silenced her unasked question with a glare and continued with his task, placing the generator on the tray as he moved onto the next instrument he needed to complete this task.
Anytime she goes away.
As he worked he glanced up at her face, but had to stop himself and concentrate on the task as a doctor. Her face was so pale; her lips less rosy, her hair even seemed to lack the sunshine glow he usually associated with it. He dropped the scrubber with shock as he heard a loud sob reverberate around the quiet room. It wasn’t until he saw one of his tears fall onto her hand that he realized it had been him.
He would never be able to see again, not in the darkness that she had left behind.
Anytime she goes away.