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Everything is circumstance. If she'd remembered to top up her emergency medkit. If she hadn't gotten separated from the rest of the group. If she hadn't volunteered to go on this away mission in the first place.
Tilly grits her teeth and forces herself to look at her leg again. She'd passed out from the pain when she fell, and then twenty minutes later, even with the painkillers working, she'd passed out again from the way it looked when she made herself check under the silver emergency blanket she'd thrown over her legs.
This time, she's absolutely in control of her vasovagal response. So it's a compound fracture. Big deal. She's done it before. Sure, she was with other people, other people who could wield bone knitters and dermal regenerators, but still. Once the painkillers kicked in, she'd blindly wrapped a dressing as best she could, tied it in place to apply as appropriate pressure as she could, and hoped like hell the team would arrive before she bled through a second dressing.
She lifts the blanket and feels her head swim, painkillers and shock and revulsion all gunning for control. There's a tiny spot of blood soaking through the dressing, but if her calculations are correct – disregarding the fact that her brain is operating at far from optimal capacity or the fact that trying to hope that her situation is going to continue to operate and develop at a consistent pace – she should have at least another fifteen or so minutes before things get dire enough to consider having to redress.
She knows that she should be concerned about the deepening shades of red and pink around the wound, the tightness of the skin, the heat she can feel coming from the limb. But there's also nothing she can do about that until the comm interference dies down or her group tracks her down.
She's awfully tired, but she knows she needs to fight sleep. She fixes her gaze on a specific rock and begins reciting the new Haliian phrases she's been committing to memory. Then the Denobulan ones. Then the smattering of Tok Pisin. She keeps going. And going. And–
'Lieutenant, are you swearing in Klingon?'
It must really be Commander Reno looking down at her, arms folded and an amused look on her face, because if Tilly were hallucinating or dreaming, her subconscious would have picked someone nicer. Or at least made Reno look even a touch concerned. Even pitying. Tilly could take pitying right now.
'Yes,' she replies shortly.
'And that's why your away group left you behind to have a rest? Too many ghuy's for those guys?' Reno chuckles to herself, but cuts it off when she sees Tilly's face. 'Where have they got to? And what's with the silver blankie? I saw it through the trees and wondered what the hell it was. Told my crew to hang back by the river. You know they're for emergencies, right?'
'You're way too chipper for an away mission,' Tilly grumbles, before another flare of heat from her ankle brings her back to the moment. 'I know they're for emergencies. I got separated from my group. Don't ask me how. And then I fell. Refer to previous statement about no questions. And then…'
She gestures at her lower half before looking up to the forest canopy and pulling back the emergency blanket. 'Ta-da.'
The sharp intake of breath from Reno is a little gratifying. 'Jeez, Red. That's…. red.'
'Do you mean the inflamed skin or in the blood seeping through again? I can't look.'
'Can't blame you there. And, uh. Both? Kiddo, that's got to be infected with something.'
'You've always claimed that you're smart. Glad to have proof of it.'
'How'd you let it get to this point? If you'd–'
'Yeah. I know. No bone knitter, no dermal regenerator. I'd taken them out to tune them up and forgot to put them back.'
Reno rummages through her pack. 'Well, my gear's here, and not to brag or anything, but I've even got a medical tricorder, just because I'm awesome. I'm not going to put you back together and trap an alien bug in there without the robo-doc's go-ahead.' She brandishes the tricorder over Tilly's leg and winces. 'Professional medical intervention advised.'
Tilly's heart skips even as she tries to play it cool. 'Yeah, I figured.'
'Fate really has it out for you, huh?' Reno digs through her pack again. 'I'm guessing the Klingon cursing is a pain management thing? No meds in there?'
'Those I do have. I just switched to Klingon after I'd run out of Vau N'Akat greetings and the first ten Rules of Acquisition in the original Ferengi.'
'Thinking of changing to Communications?'
'No. I thought about doing chemical formulae but I can do those in my sleep. And the whole point was to–'
'Not sleep. Wise. Got it. Good news, too, since your pronunciation is terrible.'
Tilly glares at her. 'I'd like to hear you do better.'
'Buddy, I'm not saying I'm any better. I barely even managed to ask for directions in Souyousian when my wife and I were on our honeymoon. But I know bad Klingon when I hear it.' She throws her hands up. 'Hey – at least I knew it was Klingon! That's a good sign.'
'Don't you have an away team to go bother?'
'Like I told you, they're down at the river. They're fine. Besides, the interference should be fully clear in five minutes. Didn't you get the memo?'
'No?'
'Hmm. Must have had a clearer spot overhead for us. Happy to be the bearer of good news.' She sits down beside Tilly and draws her knees up to lean on. 'I wouldn't leave you injured and alone anyway, Red. Even if you are annoying.'
'Even if I'm annoying?'
'Hey, hey, hey. If you need to call me a petaQ to make yourself feel better, I understand.'
Tilly elbows her. 'Maybe I will take your painkillers.'