Zouichi hasn't really experienced fear since his early childhood, after which a combination of mental conditioning and matured brain chemistry have left him dulled to feelings of fear and pain. Since then, he's looked back on his early years with a sense of curious detachment; he can remember what it felt like to be afraid, but when he tries to summon up the feeling once more, remembering the things that had inspired the emotion in the first place, he finds he cannot
( ... )
Howard's not unused to seeing Zouichi show up in Med Bay, rarely for medical care but usually just to check in and say hi and get way too defensive of that silly bird. But tonight, the expression he sees in Zou's body language is one that, while Howard is much too familiar with it on a personal level, he never expected to see on Zou.
"Hey, Zou. What's up?" He sounds casual, but he's taking in every change in the way Zouichi's carrying himself right now. He sees no physical injuries, but something is clearly wrong.
"It's a..." Zouichi pauses, taking in a quiet, shuddering breath -- fear interferes with your breathing pattern, he'd forgotten all about that. His gloved hands are clenched, involuntarily; he tries and eventually forces them to open.
"...toxin. Someone shot me with it while I was on a mission. They're trying to figure it out."
Howard has never seen Zouichi look like he's putting so much effort into accomplishing so little - in this case, trying to look a lot calmer than he must be. It's an incredibly eerie sight, coming from Z.
"Zou? You look scared. Is that what it did?" he says bluntly.
"Yes," he says tersely, trying not to snap. Howard is only trying to help, but of course the fear is only part of it. The other is anger -- at his body, for betraying him, and at himself for not being able to hold it together.
Because that's what he should be doing. Shoving this irrational emotion deep down and dealing with it, like everyone else did on a daily basis. Instead, he can't even return to duty. Probably can't even aim.
Howard's not surprised Zouichi's angry as well as afraid. The two emotions tend to go hand in hand, and he knows it's always more frustrating when there's not a defined something to be afraid of.
"Okay. You stay here a minute and focus on breathing. I'm going get you some of the coffee from the break room, and before you say anything, I know you don't usually eat or drink. Just trust me for a minute. Then you're going to talk to me, alright? I know you don't want to, but deal."
It's very, very weird-feeling to be telling Zouichi what to do.
Zouichi doesn't answer; he just waits for Howard to come back. Focus on breathing? What good is that going to do? He doesn't particularly want to talk to Howard, either -- in fact, he'd rather just abscond back to some corner somewhere and wait it out -- sooner or later his body will neutralize the substance -- but Medical regulations mean that he's stuck here.
It's much, much easier to be angry than afraid, but if he gives into that, he's not sure he'll be able to keep from smashing up his little area of Medical, especially if someone like Howard is around, needling him with concern and questions.
While he's getting the coffee, Howard's also planning how to deal with this. He knows already he's going to have to dip into his almost non-existent well of tact, because Zou's on unfamiliar territory. While he trusts Zouichi to have enough self control to not default to rage, he really wouldn't blame him if that were the case.
He comes back with coffee, figuring it's best not to pry but to keep the conversation direct. He doesn't want to remind Zouichi of the compromised position he's in more than necessary. "Your body's what's afraid, right? That's pretty normal. I know you've got high standards for yourself but it's not a personal failing for adrenalin to backfire on you every once in a while."
"Thank you, Howard," Zouichi says sarcastically, "I never would have known it was a physiological reaction if you hadn't pointed it out. Here I was going to treat it with therapy and a mug of hot cocoa."
"Sorry, I don't do therapy and I already told you, this is coffee," Howard says. So, they're going with anger. That's alright, as long as Zouichi doesn't get violent, and Howard still trusts he won't. "But sitting here being afraid with nothing else to think about is just going to make it worse. Trust me on that. Believe it or not, I'm doing you a favor."
Zouichi takes the proffered cup of coffee -- carefully, with both hands. But he doesn't drink, not yet. "I know you're trying to help, but maybe before you do, you should sit a little further away."
You know. Just in case.
"I'll be fine," he adds suddenly. "They just need to let me be alone for awhile, and I'll... be fine."
"Point taken." He sits down at the other end of the bench, about a foot out of reach even in Zouichi leans but close enough that they can keep talking without being overheard. "You should try the coffee. I hear it's awful. I wouldn't know."
Zouichi isn't hesitating to drink the coffee because it smells funny -- he doesn't even know what coffee is supposed to taste like. He's hesitating because, in all honesty, he isn't sure he can drink it without his hands shaking. He looks over at Howard, unable to ask what he wants to.
"...is that something you should be telling me if you want me to drink it?" He tries to laugh, but it comes out a little strained, false.
"Oh, come on. It'll be an experience." But he picks up on the delicate way Zouichi's fingers touch the mug and pieces it together. "Take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds, big guy. You can do this."
Maybe starting small, accomplishing a little victory of the coffee cup, will dull the edge of that shame and insecurity for a second.
He does -- it's better, just a little. Enough so that he can at least lift the mug and sip the liquid inside. It is awful.
"What do you put in here, curry?" he asks with a half-scowl. But he doesn't let go of it; he just holds it in front of him, feeling the warmth of the coffee seeping through his gloves.
"Dude, I didn't buy this blend. Blame Rory. I could have put cream in it, but honestly you don't seem like much of a coffee-drinker so I didn't know what you'd like."
At least the state of the coffee is a fairly neutral conversation topic, much less difficult than 'how do you feel?' or 'does Xanax work on synthetic humans?'.
Reply
"Hey, Zou. What's up?" He sounds casual, but he's taking in every change in the way Zouichi's carrying himself right now. He sees no physical injuries, but something is clearly wrong.
Reply
"...toxin. Someone shot me with it while I was on a mission. They're trying to figure it out."
Reply
"Zou? You look scared. Is that what it did?" he says bluntly.
Reply
Because that's what he should be doing. Shoving this irrational emotion deep down and dealing with it, like everyone else did on a daily basis. Instead, he can't even return to duty. Probably can't even aim.
Reply
"Okay. You stay here a minute and focus on breathing. I'm going get you some of the coffee from the break room, and before you say anything, I know you don't usually eat or drink. Just trust me for a minute. Then you're going to talk to me, alright? I know you don't want to, but deal."
It's very, very weird-feeling to be telling Zouichi what to do.
Reply
It's much, much easier to be angry than afraid, but if he gives into that, he's not sure he'll be able to keep from smashing up his little area of Medical, especially if someone like Howard is around, needling him with concern and questions.
So he waits.
Reply
He comes back with coffee, figuring it's best not to pry but to keep the conversation direct. He doesn't want to remind Zouichi of the compromised position he's in more than necessary. "Your body's what's afraid, right? That's pretty normal. I know you've got high standards for yourself but it's not a personal failing for adrenalin to backfire on you every once in a while."
Reply
"Thank you, Howard," Zouichi says sarcastically, "I never would have known it was a physiological reaction if you hadn't pointed it out. Here I was going to treat it with therapy and a mug of hot cocoa."
Oops.
He looks away. "...sorry."
Reply
Reply
You know. Just in case.
"I'll be fine," he adds suddenly. "They just need to let me be alone for awhile, and I'll... be fine."
Reply
Reply
"...is that something you should be telling me if you want me to drink it?" He tries to laugh, but it comes out a little strained, false.
Reply
Maybe starting small, accomplishing a little victory of the coffee cup, will dull the edge of that shame and insecurity for a second.
Reply
"What do you put in here, curry?" he asks with a half-scowl. But he doesn't let go of it; he just holds it in front of him, feeling the warmth of the coffee seeping through his gloves.
Reply
At least the state of the coffee is a fairly neutral conversation topic, much less difficult than 'how do you feel?' or 'does Xanax work on synthetic humans?'.
Reply
Leave a comment