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1.
“Violet, we need you down at the airlock.”
A calm focus slid over Violet as she walked out of the cockpit. There was the quick stop at the medbay, the jury-rigged sling of her kit pulled over her shoulder, the long-learned steps echoing in her mind.
If patient is conscious, alert, and oriented, maintain an open airway and their breathing. Assess blood circulation and keep it going. Check whether moving the patient would exacerbate injuries.
Her purposeful path to the airlock was strangely comforting. The panic she had expressed over the comms was gone - panic was for things you couldn’t control, and useless for the things you could. A patient bleeding from bullet wounds, all the evidence saying she was verbal and mobile? Violet knew she was the best person on this ship to control that.
The airlock door slid open with the press of three buttons. All Violet saw at first was a massive fuel tank wheeling through at an alarming speed. She slammed herself against the wall as it rushed by, hitting the buttons to lock the airlock as soon as Sana and Arkady entered, pushing with heavy breaths.
The two and the tank slowed to a stop. Sana started speaking to Krejjh over the comms. Violet ignored their exchange, eyes instinctively leaping to Arkady. Arkady panted, leaning back on the opposite wall and cradling her bloody arm by the elbow as she slid down the wall to sit. Violet strode towards her. Arkady’s face contorted into a grimace as she produced a strip of cloth from somewhere within her jacket. Her skin didn’t look like it had lost any color. Good sign.
Violet crouched down beside her, laying the back of her hand on Arkady’s forehead.
“It’s not a fever, Liu,” Arkady said, her voice strained. With a surprising amount of skill, Arkady one-handedly looped the strip of cloth around the blood-covered section of her arm and tightened it, pulling on the other end with her teeth.
Violet removed her hand. Arkady’s skin had felt warm, not cool. Hard to tell if the sticky sweat now clinging to Violet’s hand was from exertion or clamminess, and she didn’t sound like she was going into shock, judging from the snark. Didn’t seem like her blood was redirecting to vital organs, so not a case of severe blood loss. Good. Gunshot wounds were risky - even with the supplies Sana had gotten her, in some cases even a single well-trained medic could do nothing more than stabilize the patient, and from the sounds she had heard through the comms, Arkady was extraordinarily lucky she wasn’t one of those cases. Violet clamped down on the burst of anger that flared through her. Plenty more for her to do.
The ship started to rock a little with the force of takeoff, their escape underway, and Violet again swallowed her frustrations, focusing on what she could do within these few minutes of instability. She took a chance on Arkady’s assessment of the situation, asking, “Grazed by, passed through or still in there?”
She slipped gloves on, glancing at Arkady’s handiwork with the tied cloth, The bleeding looked fairly slow. Good instinct on Arkady's part, which made sense because she must have taken care of her own injuries before, between the whole prison colony childhood, fighting in the war, IGR guard and first mate of a smuggling ship segments of her life. Not that Violet knew if there were any other segments of her life, but this really wasn't the time for the questions she still had.
“Graze,” Arkady answered past gritted teeth, “would be pretty shit out of luck otherwise.”
"Hold still," said Violet, as the ship rocked again. Her mind settled into the familiar pruning of branches of possible outcomes and treatments, her hands descending into the kit to retrieve the packet she needed. She opened the packet to slide out a translucent thin sheet that she wrapped around the wound and shredded clothing around it, the white-tinted layers contrasting horribly with blood and skin and jacket. Violet ran a finger down Arkady's now encased upper arm, waiting for the reaction between glove and seal. The layers started shrinking, tightening around around the limb, and Violet let out a short sigh of relief that the supplies Sana's contact had given them were for real, before looking through the kit for her next target.
Arkady glared at her encased arm in recognition. "Overkill mu—"
"Arkady, do what Violet tells you to." Sana’s interruption silenced Arkady, who scowled and nodded.
Violet spun around in surprise at the voice coming from behind her, taking a quick glance before turning back to her work. Sana stood with crossed arms, a steady gaze intent on the two of them, and Violet realized she hadn't heard her speak since the ship took off. Sana had been watching her work. Unbidden, Arkady's words from that warm, sleepless night came to mind.
If I can put myself between Tripathi and a bullet, that’s the best thing I will have ever done.
Violet wondered if Sana knew Arkady believed that. She wondered how Sana could not.
"I need to head to the cockpit," said Sana, the crew’s new reliance on non-audio communication underlying her words. "Violet, do you have this handled?"
"Yeah," Violet said, "I've got it. Go ahead."
Sana’s footsteps echoed away. Violet rechecked the seal. Blood flow to the area had been successfully minimized.
Arkady leaned her head back against the wall, squinting at where Sana left and clearly waiting till she was out of earshot. "If I have to get a robot arm, I will hold it against you. Making that clear.”
“This ship isn’t equipped to deal with a case of major blood loss,” Violet said, unimpressed. The rates of limb atrophy with the treatment she’d used were low enough to be statistical noise, and she had a feeling Arkady knew that. She looked over the rest of Arkady for any other injuries and found none. “I’m not taking any unnecessary risks.”
The ship’s rocking slowed to a stop, a sign they were back in the still vacuum of space. A relief. Violet’s next steps required a degree of precision. Preferably, they wouldn’t have to happen on the floor outside the airlock. “Can you stand?”
Instead of answering, Arkady abruptly rose to her feet, “My legs work fine. On to the medbay?”
“The only place to sit in there is the beanbag. I’m not sewing you up while you shift around on that...thing.” Violet packed up her medkit and stood up. “We’ll go to the mess.”
Arkady staggered past her towards the mess hall before Violet could even offer a hand or offer painkillers. Out of everyone in the crew, of course Arkady would be the most frustrating patient. Violet should have expected that.
A sinking feeling in Violet’s chest told her that she shouldn’t be surprised if Arkady ended up her most frequent patient too.
2.
“Wait,” Violet said, sounding incredulous as she rummaged through the medbay cabinet Sana had fixed up for her, “they brought a knife to a gun fight?”
“Right? That’s what I said!” Arkady grinned, glad someone could appreciate the ludicrousness of the situation. Krejjh had not seemed as into Arkady making fun of the guy’s successful attempt to slash at her, plainly finding it confusing how humans could find being unprepared for a dangerous situation funny and not sad. It had made the pair’s journey back to the ship much less entertaining than it could have been. They really ought to show Krejjh more Earth-human media.
Arkady stepped back as if to lean against a wall before a jolt of pain across her lower back reminded her why she was here. She had already managed to tune out the steadier dull throbbing of the wound. “Also, you can stop now that Captain Tripathi isn’t watching. I’m fine, the knife cauterized the wound so I’m not bleeding to death. Or at all.”
Violet’s movements paused. For a brief moment, Arkady thought she’d gotten away with it, that she’d get to go back to her own room and faceplant on to her bed out of sheer exhaustion, instead of dealing with Violet dealing with her being hurt. Instead, Violet turned around to face her, her eyebrows raised in displeasure.
“We both know that’s not the only concern.” Violet pinned Arkady with her gaze. “Look, I understand that you’re tired. You can’t risk an infection. I’ll make this as quick as possible.”
“Science Officer Liu?” Krejjh angled two mess hall chairs through the doorway, bringing both them and themself into an already cramped room. “I brought the chair you asked for. Also, Captain Tripathi says that you should look at First Mate Patel’s injury no matter what she says about it.”
Arkady couldn’t help her guilty look at that. She shifted further into the room to give them all a little more space, meaning she knocked her shoulder into the far wall after a single step.
“First Mate Patel! Were you trying to get out of here? Man does the Captain know you well.” Krejjh smiled, their top two eyes swiveling over to Arkady while the bottom pair stayed focused on Violet.
“Thanks Krejjh,” Violet said without turning around. “And don’t worry about Arkady, I think I’ve made a good case for why she shouldn’t leave a slashing wound across her back untreated, even if, you know, blood isn’t actively coming out of it.”
All of Krejjh’s eyes turned to Arkady at that, and Krejjh’s smile had widened into a grin. They tossed out a parting shot before leaving the medbay. “I’ll be sure to let the Captain know that. See ya!”
“Sorry, Arkady, you heard it. Captain’s orders,” said Violet, glancing back at her and looking not at all sorry. There was a hint of smugness to her voice. Arkady groaned audibly. Having Sana and Violet team up on her over even the smallest injuries was going to be irritating.
“Go sit on one of the chairs the opposite way,” instructed Violet. “Oh, do you need painkillers? Sorry, I should have asked that first instead of making you stand there but I was in the middle of reorgani—”
“I’m good, Violet. I’m going to go sit on that chair and wait for you to do your magic.” Arkady replied. Violet had actually sounded sorry that time, amusingly enough.
Arkady walked over to one of the chairs, dragging it a little to orient it and sat down, facing away from Violet. She ignored another twinge in her back. It wasn’t bad enough to warrant using any painkillers, not when the crew’s reputation for reliability had taken a bit of a hit after that whole nanobot mess and supplies were tight. Besides, she’d always hated how sluggish they made her feel.
She stripped off the jacket and contorted her hands behind her to peel her undershirt off from where it stuck to burned skin, holding back another grunt of pain as cloth finally came free and she could pull off the undershirt. They’d been keeping the temp reg on the cooler side these days, and Arkady sighed at the feeling of chill air over her bare back. Maybe she could conk out while Violet did her thing.
“Alright I’m finally rea—oh, uh, you took your jacket off. And your shirt. That makes sense, because I can better treat the injury this way, so uh, thanks,” Violet stammered.
Arkady twisted her head around. Yeah, she had some ugly older scars that were visible, but she’d at least gotten the benefit of government-issued treatment for anything that hindered her in fighting their war. She had figured Violet had seen far worse as a paramedic out by O-11. Apparently not.
“Yeah, could we focus less on my old scars and more on the to-be scar?” Arkady snarked. Her tongue slipped past her lips, and she dragged it against the scar across her mouth. An old tick, feeling the sensation of ruined, raised flesh. She shouldn’t care about Violet’s reaction to her scars. She turned back to rest her head on the back of the chair, slouching down as she did so.
“That wasn’t what I was focusing on, but sure, Arkady,” Violet said, sounding like she was regretting what she was saying as she said it. She dragged her chair closer, the sound it made across the floor filling the tiny room. “I’m going to first pick out any foreign material left in the area, so that’ll hurt a little. Let me know if you change your mind on the painkillers.”
Unlikely. Arkady nodded anyway. She felt an almost imperceptible prick of pain alongside the dull thrumming of her wound. Then the sudden contact of cold glove around her bare waist drove all other senses away, and she tensed up, immediately frustrated with herself for the instinctive reaction.
“Is that okay?” asked Violet, her gloved hand now hovering so that it barely brushed against Arkady’s skin. She was still using what Arkady thought of as her “doctor” voice - calm, professional, informative. “It makes it easier for me clean it up without hurting you too much.”
Arkady swallowed. She tamed her voice into some semblance of normalcy. “Yeah, uh, I zoned out there. Whatever, uh, works for you is fine.”
“Thanks,” said Violet. Arkady felt Violet’s thumb splay out across the small of her back, the rest of her fingers curling around her waist. Violet continued her work in silence, the pricks of pain much smaller this time, or perhaps Arkady’s senses were simply warped around the point where Violet’s hand laid on her. She kept her back perfectly still, and let herself make a bunch of faces at the wall opposite her in an effort to get whatever this was out of her system.
It didn’t work.
This was stupid. Arkady stopped making faces. Of course her body had to react like she was a teenager who’d never been touched before, painfully aware of the slightest movement of Violet’s fingers across her skin. The only saving grace was that Violet hadn’t seemed to notice Arkady acting like an idiot. It hadn’t even been that long since she last - well, the Iris mess had thrown a wrench into their scheduling so it had been a while since the Rumor had frequented their usual haunts - and, this was an unproductive line of thought if she wanted to stop thinking about Violet’s hand on her.
“Done with that. I need to apply antiseptic and you’ll be good to go.” The pricks of pain stopped. She heard Violet shift behind her, felt Violet’s hand shifting across her back closer to the closed gash, and the familiar sting of antiseptic over the wound, the stinging giving her a verbal escape from her earlier thoughts. “Why does this shit have to smart so bad? Isn’t the point that you’re putting it on somewhere that already hurts?”
“That’s not how it works.” An edge entered Violet’s voice, and it only grew as she continued to speak. “The chemicals that clean the wound also activate receptors in your body that trigger the stinging sensation, it’s not like they chose to—”
“Hey,” Arkady interrupted. “Are you okay?”
“You’re the one that got slashed! With a plasma knife! I should be asking you if you’re okay.”
“You did, and I said yes. And in my defense, I’d like to remind you about our earlier point. It was very clearly a gun fight, and he was the one breaking the unspoken social norms here.”
Violet didn’t reply to that, instead continuing to swab at Arkady’s wound. Shit, she was getting weird about Arkady getting hurt again.
“New topic. Why don’t you tell me what your research was on?” tried Arkady.
“What?”
“Before all this? With the vitamins and samples or whatever? None of it ended up being relevant to the shitfest we were in. I’m a little curious, sue me.” Arkady shrugged.
“Sure,” said Violet, unsure. She started speaking as she worked, using words way above Arkady’s paygrade but making sure to break them down into bits that actually made sense.
Maybe this wasn’t that much worse than collapsing on her own bed alone.
3.
“You’re all set Brian, nothing to worry about,” said Violet. Arkady and Brian had been right about Brian being unharmed, but Violet would have been a rather poor medic if she didn’t even do a cursory check-up on her friend after he’d been kidnapped by Dwarnian mafia. Also, literally everyone on the crew other than Brian had insisted.
Brian hopped off the low cot he and Krejjh had managed to cram into the medbay last week, squeezing past Violet to the doorway. “Thanks, Violet. Bye Kady!”
Violet waved goodbye to him, turning her gaze to Arkady perched on the edge of the cot. Frustration was already creeping up on her. Looking over Brian first hadn’t followed the rules of attending people in order of need. Arkady had been rather insistent, however.
“I didn’t get shot or slashed with a knife this time. Are you proud of me?” Arkady grinned. The bloody lacerations across her nose and her right eyebrow crinkled.
“You could have multiple minor fractures and I don’t have the tools to tell.” Violet scowled. There was barely enough space for her between the wall and the cot, meaning she had excellent view of the torn skin on Arkady’s face. It didn’t look like there were any foreign particles to remove. As expected for this particular wound.
Arkady frowned in thought, wincing briefly as her skin shifted against itself. “My nose isn’t broken, I know what that feels like. The rest of my face doesn’t feel broken?”
“I already checked you for a concussion, so the only other thing we have to do for that is keep you awake for the next 24 hours.” Violet reached for the bottle of antiseptic. Violet rolled her eyes as Arkady glared at the bottle and opened her mouth.
“Arkady?” Violet beat her to the punch, screwing open the bottle to prepare some small swabs. “If that Dwarnian mafia grabbed you and Brian because of their grudge against Brian, why are you the only one injured?”
“Do you want Jeeter to be injured?”
Violet frowned, swabbing the tear across Arkady’s eyebrow carefully. “You’re dodging the question.”
“You know those Dwarnians”—Arkady hissed at contact of the antiseptic swab, a weak grin then slipping on to her face—“never too good at telling humans apart.”
Violet’s frown deepened and she injected as much sarcasm as humanly possible into her voice. “Right.”
“I’m the only one who fought back? You know Brian, he’d go without a fuss.” Arkady smirked.
“Those aren’t the kinds of injuries you get in a fight. You know my year as a paramedic was spent in a not-great area. I know what being pistol-whipped in the face looks like,” said Violet quietly, thinking back to the injuries she had seen that year, how she had been made familiar with the multitude of ways people demonstrated power against both who they hated, and who they claimed to love. “From the angle of it-”
“They threw us in a tiny room, started talking about Jeeter owing them. Talking nicely didn’t work, so I talked enough shit to get them to pay attention to me to buy us some time.” The words rushed forth from her in a torrent, Arkady grimacing past Violet at the wall. “Happy now, Liu?”
“I’m not happy you’re injured or about that story.” The memory of Sana and Krejjh gearing up to go after Brian and Arkady was fresh in Violet’s mind. The layer of sweetness had been stripped off Sana, and the look in Krejjh’s eyes had been the stuff of Violet’s old nightmares about the Dwarnians - steel cold, and ready to kill. Violet had easily agreed when they asked her to stay on the ship. She’d only get in their way, and they had brought them back.
“I just don’t appreciate being lied to. Anyway, Arkady, that was”—Violet paused, searching for a way to phrase the compliment that might improve Arkady’s reception of it—“really good of you.”
Arkady shrugged. “Can you imagine Brian with scars? It’d ruin his whole nerdy linguist schtick.”
No luck there.
“Hate to disappoint, but this shouldn’t scar. Not unless you severely mess up my aftercare instructions.” Violet continued swabbing at Arkady’s forehead. “What did you guys do without a medic? You didn’t even have good supplies, and this is the third time in twice as many months you’ve gotten yourself hurt.”
“Well, we weren’t on the run from a government conspiracy - just the government in general - and this is the first time in ages Brian’s dark Neuzo past has come calling.” The levity in Arkady’s voice increased with each word, as if she couldn’t believe Brian had enemies even as she sat here injured by them. “The knife guy was bad luck. I should have been faster.”
“Okay,” Violet pressed, “but before all of this, though? You said it yourself, you aren’t armed to the teeth purely for show.”
“Liu, I’m not exactly a wilting flower here.” Arkady looked and sounded confused. “I can bandage myself up fine. Anything too bad, the first aid kit’s painkillers tided me over till we hit the next stop and found a clinic, but we usually dodged that hassle.”
“I can see how that might work for you or Krejjh, or the captain, but Brian? Given his—”
“Brian doesn’t get hurt.” Arkady said it like it was the most obvious truth there was. Perhaps to her it was. Her face twisted in amusement. “Though, now that you mention it, there was that one time he tripped on nothing at Campbell’s.”
“I think you’ve told me that story.” Violet’s lips curled up in recognition. “I need to take care of your nose, try not to squirm so I don’t poke your eyes out.”
Violet shifted her hand accordingly. A small, warm breath escaped Arkady’s mouth, tickling the underside of Violet’s wrist in its new position.
Arkady glanced up at her, and muttered, “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for breathing,” said Violet, amused. “My wrists have experienced worse than your breath.”
Arkady glared at her, a smile clearly pulling at her lips. Getting a reaction out of Arkady continued to prove far easier than she would have thought, that first day on the Rumor. Almost six months had passed since. Sometimes Violet felt like she had come impossibly far in that time frame, content with a life she had never thought for herself. Other times, and if she was being honest, especially when it came to Arkady, it felt like she was back on square one.
I feel like kissing you. Violet had thought and said it in the same breath back on the Iris, riding high on the foolish hope of escaping a certain death, the silly thrill of being wanted by an almost stranger. Funny how the two had gotten tangled up in her mind.
This time, sitting here cleaning up the bloody lacerations across Arkady's face, seeing Arkady’s ridiculous expression as she resisted fidgeting her nose with a degree of concentration she usually reserved for her hacking, Violet thought slowly and deliberately: I would like to kiss her.
The words had been sitting in her chest like a low-simmering flame, fuel steadily gained with each new fact she learned about Arkady, or smile coaxed out or anything else about her, really. It had been much easier when it had been simple superficial fondness for a voice over the comms. Or disappointment at an armed, lying reality. Or being impressed with self-taught competence, brushed-off protectiveness. It had been a nice distraction from everything else going wrong in her life, easy to list off brain chemicals - dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin.
Now it was frustratingly more than that.
Violet tended not to let hesitation stop her from speaking her mind. Anxiety meant that doing so would result in her never speaking. This particular thought, however, would stay unspoken. Being part of the Rumor’s crew was the closest she had felt to settled in her adult life, this ship was tiny, she’d always be the newcomer in some sense, and Arkady would keep getting injured, keep being her patient. All of that meant the cons outweighed the pros.
As Violet screwed the bottle of antiseptic shut tight, she thought to herself that Arkady Patel had turned out to be far better than whoever she had imagined Kay Grisham to be. A pity she couldn’t tell her that.
4.
“God, sorry. I should have been paying attention,” said Violet, apologizing for what Arkady felt like the fifteenth time as she checked the compress around Arkady’s right ankle.
Arkady rested her back on the pillow. Thinking to throw one of her spares in here last month had been a smart idea, as was moving the cot against the wall. The medbay wasn’t nearly as sad as it used to be, and Violet had even caved to letting the beanbag stick around, as limited as the space in here was.
As soon as Violet’s hands were off it, Arkady tilted her sprained ankle to see how it felt, get a sense of when it’d be useful again. Mostly it felt bulky. Pain was usually her go-to for figuring this stuff out, but Violet had been more insistent on the painkillers this time. Usually Arkady could push her off for a few hours, or in the case of the knife incident, for a whole day.
It was the undeserved guilt. So, Arkady repeated herself for the fifteenth time. “Like I said. I’m the one who assessed the area and said we were clear. Your job was to get what we needed from the terminal. Mine was to do better than notice a timed explosive at literally the last second.”
Violet stepped back and turned to look inside the cabinet, her voice muffled. “You called my name multiple times.”
“I’m fine.” Arkady wiggled her ankle in emphasis and gestured at the right side of her face. “It’ll heal.”
“You got lucky with the shrapnel,” Violet retorted, but the fight had gone out of her voice. The two of them had had this argument enough times that they were at an impasse. Violet kept refusing to acknowledge that this was what simply part of what Arkady did for the crew, like how Krejjh flew them or Sana fixed the temperature regulators. Arkady was the best person for this job.
She was damn good at it too. A smile crept on to her face. Violet hadn’t gotten hurt beyond a few bruises from Arkady shoving her out of the way. Nothing worse than the time they’d all bounced around the airlock while Krejjh raced away from the exploding Iris. Still. Their line of work, their list of enemies only growing, it was only a matter of time before Violet got unlucky.
Arkady wondered if that’d be the straw to break Violet’s back, get her to accept other Violet’s standing offer of a research position. Violet had given one of her rambly sincere speeches when she had decided to stay on the Rumor, but decisions like that tended to feel good in the moment, and less great when living through months of the small-time smuggler life. Ugh, the painkillers were messing with her mind. Making her think about things she’d already thought about and dismissed. Making her get lost in her mind and not notice her surroundings, like how Violet was suddenly standing next to her and not near the cabinet anymore.
She looked up at Violet. Up, because this cot was so damn low that she’d been holding back for months now on short jokes, knowing that Brian and Krejjh had thoughtfully considered what would make Violet’s job easier, and there were easier things to make fun of them for. Violet was holding some band-aids and Arkady’s old foe, the antiseptic.
“Nothing snarky to say about the shrapnel?” Violet raised an eyebrow, beginning to go to work on a cut on Arkady’s chin.
Arkady shrugged, content to stay silent for once. Her previous thoughts still swirled around in her head. It couldn’t hurt to ask. She’d said much worse to Violet in those early days, and Violet hadn’t even liked her then. Not that Violet particularly liked her now, or anything, but- she’d ask Violet. Might as well. “How much longer do you think you’re gonna stay on the Rumor? Doubt it was part of your ten-year plan.”
Arkady kept her gaze on Violet. Really looked at her, instead of her usual stealing glances while pretending to look elsewhere schtick. She wanted a real answer this time, not Violet’s attempt to make the best of the shit she was saddled with, and she’d read it off of her body language if she had to. A flash of hurt crossed Violet’s face.
“No, it wasn’t exactly part of the career plan. And those early weeks staying here did feel like the best of several bad options. Perhaps it’s self-centered of me, but these days it’s like I know”—Violet started. Self-mockery entered her tone as she steadily kept working—“Well, ’know’ tends to be too strong a word for the constantly spinning mess that is my brain, always ready to second-guess, never be sure, never—”
Violet interrupted herself again, a sudden, fierce look in her eyes, an almost snarl to it. “No, I know that this ship is exactly where I should be.”
Oh.
The Violet of the first few days after The Iris would have felt the need to explain herself further, but this Violet seemed content to stop there, affixing a band-aid on a different cut on Arkady’s chin, like she trusted Arkady would understand her meaning. A feeling of contentment threatened to wash over Arkady at the thought, the words themselves, and the all too brief moments Violet’s fingers slipped past cloth or band-aid to brush against her skin.
Arkady let it, her gaze sliding away from Violet to the far wall and breathed out, “Good to know.”
Violet hummed in acknowledgement, her hands reaching towards a cut on Arkady’s temple, shifting herself along the cot for a better angle. The movement brought her between Arkady and the ceiling lights, shadows falling on Arkady. All Arkady could think about was Violet’s words and how clearly she meant them. More than half a year and she had no plans to leave? It was enough to break past the mental barrier in her mind, to acknowledge the part of herself that had wanted Violet to stay. The part of you that wants her, you mean, her mind whispers. Ugh. No. Take every thought that’s not useful and put it somewhere else.
But it was difficult to convince her body that it was in danger and needed to do that, not when her back was to the wall and she could see the entire medbay including the entrance. No threats registered. Only the uncomfortably safe feeling of Violet working on her. The even safer feeling of knowing Violet was actively choosing to stay. Despite herself, Arkady looked up at Violet. Her face was so close now, scrunched up in focus and her dark brown eyes darted around, shining even in the shadows.
For a stupid small moment, Arkady forgot there were things she didn't get, and leaned her head up till she captured Violet’s lips with her own. Violet didn’t pull away. Arkady started to wonder how long she could strain her head like this without her neck aching.
Then she noticed that not an inch of Violet was moving. Arkady dropped back quickly, barely avoiding knocking the back of her head on the wall in her haste to look at Violet. Violet’s hands had fallen to her sides, the fingers slightly curled. Her lips were slightly parted and the unreadable expression on her face looked frozen, much like her body still leaning over the cot. She blinked a few times.
Arkady felt a pit in her stomach grow at every new detail captured. Fight, flight, or freeze. It would be like Violet for her instinct to be freeze. What had Arkady done? Violet had literally told her that she’d felt comfortable on the ship, like she belonged here and Arkady had to go ruin all of it, ruin this new precarious balance the crew had been enjoying with the addition of Violet.
Violet started to speak, her eyes widening. “Arka—”
“Remember that time I asked for a hug and blamed it on adrenaline? We can do that with uh, that, y’know? I’ll, uh” Arkady stammered, desperately wishing for another robot swarm to attack the ship, anything at all to get her out of what she had done, embarrassment and shame twisting in her gut. She pushed herself off the cot, landing on her good foot, ready to hop the hell away before she made things worse somehow. “Leaving. Now. Um, uh, we can forget that I did that, won’t happen again, uh, I totally have band-aids in my room so, don’t worry about, uh, this shit.”
Arkady gestured at the right side of her face. Violet’s brows knitted together in thought, and then her face flickered through several expressions, as if rebooting. It landed on amusement. The pit in Arkady’s stomach changed shape. Violet unhurt by her stupid move was good, but that didn’t mean she wanted to witness her laughter at it. She turned on her good foot and hopped past Violet to the exit.
Arkady had reached the exit when she felt Violet’s hand pull on hers to spin her back around, almost toppling her over if it wasn’t for Violet’s other hand falling to her waist to keep her balanced. She blinked in confusion at Violet, whose eyes looked impossibly serious even as a small smile curled on to her face.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d appreciate not forgetting that.” Violet’s words scarcely registered in Arkady’s mind before Violet was kissing her, soft and slow. Holy shit, Violet was kissing her. Arkady barely managed to regain enough presence of mind to kiss her back, all of her focus narrowing down to the points of contact between their bodies, awkward balancing on a single foot and the previous tightness in her stomach forgotten.
Violet broke the kiss. Her nose looked a little pinker now, and she said, “I had assumed, you weren’t interested in—”
“Uh, Liu, I think it’s clear now what I’m interested in.” Arkady let herself grin, deeply grateful that she had somehow regained her ability to talk like a normal person.
“That’s fair.” Violet chuckled. “God, the others are going to be infuriating about this.”
“Yeah. I got them to knock it off after the first couple of months but now,” Arkady trailed off.
Violet raised her eyebrows, and then shook her head. “Idea: what if we put a pin in talking about the others, and went back to kissing?”
“Have I mentioned that you’re pretty smart?”
“Once or twice. Also, standing on one foot like that can’t be comfortable.”
“Eh, I’ll live.”
Violet glanced at something behind Arkady, smiling. “I have an idea.”
Arkady let herself be guided back, hopping back till the back of her calf hit the beanbag chair. She smirked. “You hate this thing.”
Violet looked for a moment like she considered replying, and instead moved forward to kiss her. Arkady slowly sat down. Her free hand rested on Violet’s back to bring her back with her as they continued to kiss, and she felt Violet’s hand move from her waist to her shoulder, the transfer of weight oddly comforting.
Arkady spared a quick thought of vindication for her insistence on keeping the beanbag, before thoughts of it or anything else were lost in kissing Violet.
+1.
It hurt.
A simple, useless thought, but the only thought Violet could hold on to, everything else slipping away under it.
It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.
Tears pricked Violet’s eyes, and she blinked furiously trying to hold them back. They spilled out anyway. The inside of her forearm burned in pain. God, she should have known better than to break her fall with her arms, it had all happened so quickly.
It hurt so much.
Violet had always been a cautious kid, the kind that had never broken a bone. Her forearm was broken, as far she could tell in those few moments she could think past the pain - the dizziness followed by hurt was almost textbook, and she had run her fingers across the arm to confirm it. She rolled on to her back, trying and failing to move slowly enough that another jolt of pain wouldn’t roll through the arm. A whimper escaped her.
“Violet? I’m on my way.” Arkady’s voice echoed from far away, coming closer with each word. Violet tilted her head up to see her running from the other side of the area, going past the withering plants in the courtyard.
The dizziness came back then, leaving Violet’s mind in a haze. She dropped her head back on the ground. Arkady had a nice voice. It was nice that it was coming closer. The pain in her arm was not nice at all. Oh, she should tell Arkady about it. That seemed important.
“Arkady,” she said loudly, using the hand of her uninjured arm to hold her broken one in place, “My forearm is broken.”
“Shit,” Arkady stopped still next to Violet. “Private Connection. Arkady Patel to Sana Tripathi. Change of plans, the building wasn’t abandoned and Violet’s injured. Yeah, it’s at least a broken arm. No, I took care of him.”
Arkady spoke as she dropped to her knees, wild eyes looking over Violet. “Didn’t expect the bastard to shove her over the edge.”
“Are you injured anywhere else?” asked Arkady.
Violet frowned in thought, trying to think past the overwhelming pain in her arm and shifting the other parts of her body to test them. “Bruises, maybe, but only the arm is broken.”
“Okay, okay,” muttered Arkady, whether to herself, Violet or to Sana, Violet couldn’t tell. “Ending the connection now, Captain, let me know when you’ve arrived. I’ll keep you posted.”
“The pain is messing with my mind,” Violet forced out. “I need to tell you how to splint this before I can’t.”
Arkady jerked at that. “Pain, right.”
She reached into Violet’s bag that had landed next to her, the strap broken from the impact. Violet wasn’t surprised when Arkady lifted out the first-aid kit, throwing the lid open and frantically rummaging through it, frustration on her face evident when she couldn’t find what she was looking for. Violet scowled. Rode through another wave of pain. Arkady was wasting time.
It hurt, but that couldn’t matter right now.
“There aren’t any painkillers left,” said Violet.
“Shit,” Arkady stopped, putting the kit down. She stripped off her jacket. “You’re supposed to tell Sana when you need to re-up. ”
“We were on schedule for Arakku,” Violet retorted. They would’ve been fine, if it hadn’t been for the Cresswin Survivors or whatever they were calling themselves wrecking a perfectly good route. The year the Rumor was having, Violet half-wondered if they should expect a bunch of Dwarnians from Krejjh’s stunt pilot gig to show up looking for vengeance. She held in a laugh at the thought. Didn’t want to jar her arm.
Arkady lifted Violet’s head to slide her folded jacket underneath it, muttering under her breath. “Could’ve rationed them a little better, Liu.”
There was no real bite to her words, and knowing Arkady it was more of a condemnation of herself, and how much had been used on her. Which was stupid because Arkady was the one that kept ending up in the line of fire. However, there was some truth in what Arkady had said. As more of the crew had gotten injured these past few months, months they’d been far from any outposts, maybe it would have been smarter of Violet to ration supplies.
But it had gnawed at her, the way the rest of them - Arkady, Krejjh, Sana, even Brian - would try to wave her off, like they were used to making do and gritting their teeth through lower standards of care. They likely had. That didn’t mean Violet had to live down to their expectations. She remembered the surprising anger boiling in her at the realization, how she had snapped at the rest of them that she was the medic, so goddamn it, she was the one who decided how to use what they had.
It hurt, the throbbing radiating outward from her arm to what felt like the rest of her body even though that made no medical sense.
It seemed only fair that Violet bear the cost of her own decision to trade between sentiment and logic. She was torn out of her pain-addled thoughts by the feeling of Arkady gently uncurling the fingers of her hand from her broken forearm. Violet looked at her in question.
“I’m going to splint it. You don’t have to talk me through it, you’re not the only one who knows a thing or two.” Arkady smirked. The worry in her face came through loud and clear.
Violet should have known that Arkady would know how to do this. Arkady carefully splinted her forearm, her dark eyes alternating between looking at her handiwork and Violet’s face, watching for signs of pain with any time she had to move Violet’s arm, Violet realized. Her arm had thrummed with more pain, of course, but Arkady had managed well enough.
“Good job,” slurred Violet, dizzy again from the pain.
“Thanks for the stamp of approval.” Arkady packed up the kit, putting it in Violet’s bag and shifting to sit cross-legged next to Violet’s face. Her comms buzzed, and she answered the call with a look of relief that soon turned into one of consternation. “Fine. I’ll let her know. Try to make it faster, the kit was out of painkillers and Violet doesn’t strike me as someone who’s gotten injured a whole bunch before.”
“They’re going to be another half hour. There were...complications.” Arkady had apparently decided not to share the details. Violet was very okay with that. It was hard enough to think past the pain to focus on what Arkady was doing, she didn’t think she had it in her to keep track of everyone else too. Arkady’s hand fell on one of the many holsters covering her body. She looked around the courtyard guardedly. “We’re safe.”
“Can I, uh, is there anything I could do to take your mind off the pain?” asked Arkady, her expression uneasy while her voice stayed light. “Could always do a reprise of Whiskey In The Jar, or I could pipe some of that mildly illegal rock you like through your comms.”
It was a nice thought. Definitely the last thing Violet needed, though. Music grounded her in her body, reminded her she was flesh and bone, not merely an abstract mind floating around the void. Right now? She’d like to forget about her body entirely. Be somewhere else.
“Could you—” Violet turned on her side, leaning on her good arm to see Arkady better. “Tell me again about the first computer system you broke into? That would be nice.”
“Of course.” Something in Arkady’s face softened. She smoothed back the hair stuck to Violet’s forehead by sweat and grime, and pressed a quick kiss to Violet’s lips. A hand remained on her holster while the other laid on Violet’s shoulder, and she looked out at the surroundings as she spoke.
“Looking back on it now, it makes me think the Cresswin family was definitely over-quoting the IGR on costs, that security system was a joke. Especially when it came to the rations.”
Arkady kept speaking. Violet closed her eyes. Shifted over onto her back again. She had heard this story before, yet it still managed to pull focus away from her pained arm, her mind floating away on Arkady’s words. She imagined a 13 year old Arkady Patel. Not that her name had been Arkady. It was simply almost impossible for Violet to think of Arkady and Sana by any other names. So. 13 year old Arkady. Unscarred. Big theatre fan. And about to realize how much she could do, even trapped in a prison colony.
Okay. Violet hissed softly as another flare of pain ran through her arm, dragging her mind back to Arkady’s voice.
She would breathe through this till the rest of the crew arrived.