Summary: A concussion sustained in combat catches up to Roubani the next day, and Legacy's shower gets rudely interrupted.
Date: PHD015
Related Logs: Raider attack on PHD014. Log not yet posted.

Kharon - Deck 1 Head

Water is running in a sink on the far side of the head, swirling down the drain towards the recycling tanks. In his formal blues, Roubani has his hands on the sides of the sink and his head bowed. He spits once into the swirling water and cups a hand under the tap.

In wanders Thea in a robe and shower shoes, carrying a small caddy with her necessaries. Her hair's down, which means it's probably need-it-or-not wash day. She pulls up to a sink not far from Poet, but doesn't immediately look over or interrupt. Bathroom protocol, after all.

Roubani rinses out his mouth, mindful of his blue sleeve. He flicks water off his fingers, turning around to look for something to dry them on. "Sir." To Legacy, of course, in her little bathrobe.

Legacy glances over and offers a small smile before holding out one of the two towels she's got on her arm. "Evening Poet," she says quietly. "All dressed up and no place to go?"

"No, sir. CAP in an hour." Roubani accepts the towel, wrapping it around his hand. "I suppose I might ask you the same thing." His speech is noticeably slower than it usually is. His eyes have that slight squint of someone bothered by the lights.

"I am, as of ten minutes ago, officially on leave," she tells him, putting her caddy on a shelf over the sink. There are all the usual things in the caddy that one might expect, including disposable razors blooming from a cup in the top like a macabre flower arrangement. "Just waking up," she asks, glancing over at him, head tilting to the side.

"No, sir." Roubani denies, turning the water off in the sink. "Little bit of a headache." He puts his hand back on the side of the sink, leaning on it slightly. "I hope it's a good leave." Half question, half statement there.

Thea's eyes narrow just a little as she looks a bit more closely at the man. "You look a little peaked, Poet. Everything alright," she asks quietly, voice conversational. "It's…leave," she says, answering the question by not answering the question. "I had a good meeting with the CAG last night." It would seem she means it, too. Good meeting.

"That's good." Roubani's voice volume drops as he talks, and he puts the other hand on the sink. His weight's really on them suddenly. "I don't know, sir. I feel weird…" His knees then abruptly bend, folding him roughly down onto the bathroom floor.

As he starts to go down, Thea's in a dive to try to catch him - or at least his arm to keep him from hitting face first. Luckily, given that it's a head, there are at least a few other people around. Well, at least one nearby for Thea to bark "You, get medical up here now. Then alert the flight deck they're going to be a Viper short." She's not there in time to keep his knees from hitting, but she makes a good grab for the rest of him. Her voice gentles. "Hey there. You're not supposed to feel weird. You're supposed to feel like a Sag Viper jock." When in doubt, joke. And keep him talking. "What kind of weird?"

"Dizzy." Roubani leans forward onto his hands, keeping his head down. 'Getting up' doesn't seem to be occuring to him, and his eyes look unfocused as he looks at her hands on him, confused. "Are you okay?"

Thea folds herself down to a kneeling position, sliding one arm under his chest. Yep, she's getting up close and personal and it doesn't even phase her. "I'm alright," she tells him quietly. "A little worried about you. Let's get you situated to where you're not going to go face first on the deck, hmmm? I'd feel more comfortable if I didn't have to worry about you breaking that cute nose." One of the crew helpfully slides a trash can over - just in case. The rest back away. "Let's get your butt on the deck, Poet. Go ahead and lean on me. Pull your legs forward, I've got you."

Roubani follows instructions, albeit clumsily. His booted feet skid against the tiled bathroom floor as he tries to shift his weight. "Just to my bunk, please…I forgot my pen." He doesn't grab ahold of her at all, making this ten times more awkward.

Ahhh, gotta love the sick person dance. Thea's sliding a little on the deck, bare knees and tile not having fun together, but she doesn't seem to notice. She tries to move with his shifting, but predictions aren't quite possible. Both arms are around him now, and stay around him even as he settles into a butt on deck position. "We'll get your pen in a few minutes, Poet," she says quietly. "Has anything happened to make you sick?" One hand releases as she reaches for his face, fingertips light and gentle on his cheek as she tries to turn his face to hers.

"I have CAP." Roubani insists, slurring the words. He rests his head back against the wall by the sink pipe, and it lolls to the side. "I need my pen. It's not broken."

"Sorry, Poet," Thea says quietly. "Your ticket's been punched for tonight. Someone else is covering your CAP. Once we get you to sickbay, I'll see about getting your pen and whatever else you need." She gently, carefully tries to turn his head to where she can look in his eyes. "Keep talking to me, Poet. Medical's on the way." Yes, the woman's voice is low and soft, concern lacing the words but not overwhelming them.

"Didn't buy a ticket," Roubani informs her, nodding once at the same time. "There's no train, sir. It's closed. They won't hurt you, though." His head turns when she moves it, and he closes his eyes. "You're really nice."

"Open your eyes, Poet," Thea says, a thread of fear weaving its way through the concern. "Come on, look at me." The officer who ran for the medic comes skidding back in. "They're backed up but on the way, Sir," he tells her. No, she's not happy, but she nods and looks back to Roubani's face. "C'mon Poet," she coaxes. "Let me see those pretty eyes of yours. Gotta see both of them, then we're going to get you down to medical for some peace and quiet. You wanted jello, right?" The arm remains around him, despite the positioning and awkwardness. Someone, clearly, doesn't give a care.

"I'm not very hungry." Roubani sounds quite relaxed, mumbling like someone falling asleep. His eyes drift open and then start to close again. "I don't like doctors. I'll just go home."

"Keep 'em open, Poet," she says quietly, infusing her voice with just a tiny hint of command-voice. Yes, she's studying his pupils. "I don't like doctors either, but doctors here are nice. I promise, once you see them, I'll take you home myself." She sniffs, once. Testing for alcohol, maybe?

Zero alcohol on Roubani's breath. Nothing except the unpleasant lingering smell of lunch having come back up. "Alright." Nothing wrong with his pupils. His eyes open, close, open again halfway. "But there's no train."

Pike arrives from the Hallway - Deck 1, Fore.
Pike has arrived.

There's a small crowd of lingering officers semi-circled around Roubani and Legacy. Thea's in her robe, bare legged, clearly having been in here to take advantage of that whole running water thing. Roubani's in his blues, leaning back against a wall by the sink, Thea's arm around him and one hand on his cheek. "Nope, Poet," she says softly. "No train." Her fingertips move lightly over his still-healing cheek and there's a worried expression on her face. "How long have you felt dizzy," she asks, again, voice low. An officer had been sent down to medical to get help just a few minutes ago and had returned to tell Thea that medical was a bit backed up, but someone was coming.

"Last night." This would be an awesome opportunity to get to see Thea's legs, for sure, but Roubani isn't acting. Slouched against the wall, he mumbles his answers. "Had a helmet. I thought it was okay."

Pike heads through the hatchway in her off-duties and medical bag in one hand. Upon seeing the horde of people circling the apparent reason she was called, she frowns and starts shoving her way past. "Make a hole please..!" She eyes Roubani, then looks to Thea as she sets her bag on the floor and unzips it. "What's happened?" she asks, eyes aimed towards Thea.

Legacy continues to touch Poet's cheek lightly, one might even say tenderly. "You'll be ok," she assures Roubani quietly. When she looks up at Pike, it's with relief. "He's complaining of feeling dizzy. He's thrown up, but I don't know when. Pupils seem fine. He was at the sink and just collapsed to his knees." It's quietly succinct, as one might expect. "Slight incoherence and changing of subject. He's mentioned things like a train and a broken pen back in his bunk." She shifts a bit, dropping her hand from Roubani's cheek, but she doesn't move far away at all and leaves one arm around his shoulders, protectively.

"I missed." The weight of Roubani's head is against Thea's hand until she moves it, when his chin bobs towards his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I missed." His face is tensed up, pain etched in the lines at the corners of his eyes. His eye squints further when light from the ceiling shines onto it.

Pike nods once, saying to Thea, "Help me get him to a seated position." The doc takes hold of one of Roubani's arms and attempts to guide him into sitting on the floor. "When was the last time you ate anything? And have you taken any blows to your head that you can recall?" she asks of Roubani.

Thea helps pull Roubani upright a bit more, sliding down so her back is to the wall next to him and her arm around his waist. "It's ok to lean against me, Poet," she coaxes softly. "Just relax. Doctor Pike is wonderful." Yep, the one thing she can do in a situation like this - be a support structure for a sick Viper jock.

"Last night." Roubani answers Pike, though who can tell as to which question. "In the Viper." He tries to scoot back a little further, slowly registering that there are hands on him. More than one set. His hands come up, pushing clumsily into the space between him and both women. "Please don't…don't touch me."

Pike smiles at Thea's vote of confidence, but frowns at Roubani's report of injury. "He's showing signs of being concussed. Sensitivity to light, nausea… you should've come to me the second you'd landed." The tone is more motherly than admonishing.

"He probably didn't realize," Thea says quietly, in the man's defense. "He was wearing a helmet, he said." Right, like everyone should take the word of a concussed man. At Roubani's protestations, Thea slowly starts to unwrap herself from him. "We'll need to get you up on a gurney, Poet," she says quietly. "So we'll need to touch you for that. If you stand up on your own, there's a chance you'll fall and be more seriously injured." She shifts, putting some space between herself and him, but remaining close enough to catch him if needs be.

"I'm fine." Roubani presses his shoulders back against the wall. "I just need my pen." His eyes drift all the way open, looking up at the sink above him. "Shouldn't put those on the ceiling." His tone's a bit grumpy as he gives that opinion, and he reaches up for the porcelain lip.

"Stay with him," Pike says to Thea as she rises and heads for the wireless. "Sickbay, this is Dr. Pike. I need a gurney in the Deck 1 head stat. Have a concussed pilot here… okay, thanks."

"Poet, sit your ass back down," Thea barks quietly. Yep, she's gone back to command voice. Grumpy, concussed pilot with situational tactophobia? Gotta do what works. "Don't make me hug you, Poet. You wouldn't like it if I hugged you." Great, the Hug Hulk.

Roubani promptly lets go of the sink. And folds his arms. Amazing how a twenty-two year old man can suddenly look six. What a pout.

Pike heads back and kneels next to Roubani, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him seated. "Gurney's on the way. And when it comes, you're going to let the two of us help you onto it with no arguments, right?" Her smile is pleasant, her manner warm and caring. Bedside manner, she haz it.

Legacy looks over Roubani's head and shakes hers, slightly, at Pike, glancing down at the hand. "Thank you, Poet," she says quietly, looking back to Roubani. "Once you're settled in sickbay, shall I get your pen from your bunk?" Her voice is soft and quiet, the command prompt gone.

Roubani shifts his shoulder away from Pike's hand as though she'd dug her nails into his skin. He rubs his hand across his face, pressing his fingers into the soft spot under the ridges over both eyes. "Yes. One pen."

It's not long before a pair of paramedics from sickbay haul in a gurney and lay it out in front of Roubani. "Okay, your ride's here." To Thea, mind giving me a hand?" She gives a nod to the two noncoms who hold it steady as she gently moves the injured pilot over to a prone position on the mattress.

Thea settles in to help, but doesn't touch Roubani immediately. She gets those legs under her, bare as they are, and clearly not giving a damn about who sees what, and leans down toward the man. "Put your arm over my shoulder, Poet," she tells him gently. "Let me take your weight. Then we'll swing around and get you sitting on the gurney. I'll have to put my arm around your waist, but I promise to only harass your belt loops."

"No. No, no, don't!" Roubani slouches back from both women when they lean in. There's a brief flash of panic in his voice. But at least he seems to understand what's going on, if peripherally. "I can." He pulls both legs under him, unsteady as they are, and braces a hand against the wall.

Pike sighs. "All right, you can get up on it yourself if you'd rather. We'll be here to support you, okay?" She looks to Thea as if to confirm the same from her.

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