Worst of Both Worlds

Posted on Tue Feb 14th, 2023 @ 9:49am by Commander Benjamin Jamesson & Warrant Officer Iryna Voznyuk & Ensign Isaac 'Zac' Hughes & Staff Sergeant Nathanial "Nate" Cusack
Edited on on Tue Feb 14th, 2023 @ 9:50am

Mission: Sojurn
Location: Bar and eatery, planetside
Timeline: Day 333
4278 words - 8.6 OF Standard Post Measure

"It's about as cold as it looks. Probably colder except you reach a point where you can't feel much anymore."

Warm drink in hand, Isaac slipped onto the stool next to the broad-shouldered man he'd regarded quietly for a few minutes before deciding to interrupt his solitude. Like most of the crew, the doctor found himself drawn to the vast selection of food and drinks on offer, none of them particularly familiar and yet the variety coupled with the freshness of the ingredients surpassed any 5-star experience Isaac had ever had. The spicy concoction that filled his mug was fast becoming a favourite, though its unique tanginess was going to eventually become a craving he couldn't satiate.

He regarded the other man's profile for a moment and then returned his attention to the view beyond the window.

"You doing okay?"

It was more direct than Isaac often was but he'd learned it was the best strategy with his Commanding Officer. Ben didn't open up often and he'd been even more stubborn since their escape. It wasn't an ideal situation to grieve in, certainly not when palpable threats kept demanding more and more of their energy, but anguish didn't go anywhere. It just buried deeper. There were some things you couldn't hide from.

Benjamin had hoped for some much needed solitude where he was not constantly hearing a click that sounded wrong or the bleep that sounded five seconds too fast. It was brought to bug him as the ship was just not right at the moment. It was out of sync but then he remembered every time it was him who was out of sync with the ship and 99% of what and who was on it. “Doing better than most.” He said by way of deflection as he looked at the drink he had in his own mug. It tasted like something he had drunk just once on earth but he could not remember what it was.

"Not saying much," Isaac observed with a huff of laughter, though he was hardly surprised by the other man's stubbornness. It was fine, not everyone could be Manishie, whose download speed had tripled since the recent systems failure. "Still, much though I can't say I'm fate's biggest fan, it's hard to be too angry about all this." The doctor's gaze took in the gentle spirals of lightly falling snow as they started up again. "I think I actually like being freezing cold for once."

“Fate kept us alive in a sort of twisted sort of way.” Ben said with a shrug. He was starting to think that dying might have been less stressful on his heart and soul in his darker moments but then he remembered how many of his crew mates had no been given that option. “It is boring enough to offer some reminder of what weather actually is.” he commented as he indicated to the barman another round of the drink and held out the strange shell like credits he had been given for helping someone earlier in the day in the space port.

"It's certainly giving the crew some much needed reprieve." It was still difficult to speak as if it was their crew, these people who resembled friends and comrades and yet barely knew his name. Still, Isaac couldn't begrudge them the relief of having a change in location to explore, even if it made confronting the reality that every success they enjoyed was one less shared with people who'd been every bit as determined to get home. The prickling sensation of betrayal wasn't logical and Isaac tried not to indulge in it too much, but he couldn't really begin to imagine what Ben was going through in that regard.

One step after the other, each leading further and further away from what you thought was going to be the rest of your life...

After taking a sip, the doctor set down his drink. "It was skiing, right?" An obscure question but one that dug deep into the no-go pit. Isaac bided his time before gently pushing on. "That night, the round robin, first thing she was going to do when we got back. Take you skiing." It wasn't fair, and Ben was right in thinking that no amount of talking was going to change anything, but Zac figured he owed it to the memory of people who couldn't kick the engineer's ass themselves to at least try to provoke some sort of reaction from him. Even anger would be better than the withdrawn, hollow defeatism.

The man had let the silence reign before the doctor spoke up and said what he had hoped no one remembered out of the trio that had survived. The grip on the large mug got holder and the second he through the grip was going to smash the thing he relaxed. He gulped and closed his eyes for a moment remembering it like it was yesterday. “Yes.” He said in a strained voice. “I can’t … it’s hard being here with the snow.” He decided that his strained words were not going to be enough.

"And with her," Isaac conveyed his understanding with a nod and then a sigh. As much as he'd spoken to Leroux about helping her crew develop coping strategies and healthy stress release options, the doctor had to admit that it wasn't as easy to go there with his Commanding Officer. It wasn't so much a matter of seniority, Ben had slipped backwards almost with relief as far as Isaac could tell. More than that, he'd never driven a wedge between himself and the crew in that regard, there was no reason to feel like there was no strength to their friendship or that attempting to help him was somehow going to cause offense. It came down to the simple fact that Ben's situation was beyond comprehension.

How were you meant to grieve someone standing right in front of you?

"Do you have much to do with her?" It was a very, very gentle question, in a tone that indicated it was trying not to break anything.

Ben twisted his neck from side to side as he watched the patrons in front of him as if he had not heard the question for a long moment before he shook his head. "No... She has people and ... it is easier if I am not around." He explained or at least hoped it explained enough that she had someone who was not him here and he was not going to jump in where he was nothing more that a ghost of someone she had known who died.

It was a curious response, if only because it didn't marry up exactly with Isaac's own observations. In so many ways, this was a situation that warranted discretion and a degree of distance because even if he attempted to wear his professional hat, nothing was going to erase that moment of mutual horror, the discovery and harrowed acceptance of their combined impotence in doing anything to save the one person Ben would have torn the ship apart to get to had he known. It was too visceral, his own anguish at the loss of a good friend mingled with guilt and frustration that had made it hard for Isaac to have anything much to do with Calanthe either. Still, he questioned Ben's certainty, having caught the brunette eating alone far too often lately for it to have been a simple coincidence every time.

"Did she tell you that?"

"I have seen it." He replied. It had been hard to not see it when it had felt like it had been everywhere his first couple of weeks which had made his choice to move to Gamma shift so much easier despite how he missed seeing people. It had only been the last couple of days where he had been around more in the day due to the ease of fixing stuff with more people to assist.

He wasn't going to interfere. Before he'd even come into the conversation, Isaac had promised himself that he'd remember this wasn't a situation that needed more fingers in the pie. It didn't matter that the engineer had no choice but to process the situation and find a way to move on from it. It didn't matter that Calanthe was alive in this universe and couldn't very well hide herself in a broom closet for the rest of their attempted journey home. No matter how inevitable it was that the pair of them were going to have to figure things out, Isaac had already determined that having too much input was just going to muddy the waters. He frowned at the contents of his mug and, rather than launch into any dissection of available evidence, simply said, "All I've seen is her eating a lot of breakfasts alone."

"Whilst I have seen the opposite." He said. "I am happy for her though even if it... hurts me," he said finally admitting that it hurt to know that someone who he had loved and worshipped was dead yet now and there she was alive and happily living her life. She might have some of his version's memories but that was not something he needed to encourage or come between her and the marine even if he was sure that he was playing about.

In customary silence, Isaac cast his mind back to an overly full Sickbay, and the rotation of crew quietly sneaking in to check on loved ones. The aftermath of Smith's final assault on this crew had given ample opportunities for the doctor to gain insight into the established relationships, especially as it had often fallen to him to field worried check-ins or redirect O'Connery away from another attempt at spending the night asleep on Gerhard's biobed. Whoever Ben was talking about hadn't checked on Calanthe once.

Accuracy probably wasn't the point though, not if this was how Ben was justifying his attempts to move on. And though Isaac worried about the implications for Diaz, especially since Ben had confided in Smith's parting gift and the legacy this version had been lumbered with, there was a chance there just wasn't a way to fix this without letting them get through the hurting first. Reaching across, the doctor responded by simply patting the other man's arm, a conveyance of understanding, and then let the topic settle.

"Nish thinks the systems failure was her fault," he confided after a long pause. If they couldn't ease the burden of a bunch of ghosts, perhaps they could focus on the living and breathing right in front of them. "She's been coping better than I expected with her counterpart but I think this just tipped the balance."

"Nish knows better," Benjamin answered with a sigh. He had not been checking in on her as he should have and he had to remedy that quickly in the next couple of hours. "I'll go Engineer on her and tell her exactly why she is very much not at fault." He shook his head and took the second mug in his hands relaxing in its warmth. It was hard getting used to calling her Nish but he was trying harder to do it as she was trying to thrive and build a life there for herself. Maybe he should follow her example.

"Knowing better has never stopped her from catastrophising," Isaac pointed out, though he was grateful for a second opinion and any attempt to squash her insecurity before it really took hold.

"Leave it to me." He might not be able to help himself much but he at the very least could help his friend. "I know the cause and she had nothing in the slightest to do with it." He took a bit gulp of the drink.

"I think she'd like to catch up with you," was all that Isaac said. They were an odd little family within a wider network, and whilst eventually they would have to integrate, shared suffering wasn't always easy to translate to those who hadn't experienced it.

"Do you think it will get better?" Benjamin wondered as the silence loomed over them. It was an open and big question but the man was the only person who had any idea of what he was feeling.

It was a question with no easy answer. Empty platitudes weren't going to serve much of a purpose, nor were baseless promises that couldn't be guaranteed. Did they have the capacity to heal? Isaac had to believe they could, even though there was no recorded precedent for what they were trying to move on from. Would they actually be able to adjust to the changes that would be required for that healing to take place?

He looked sideways to study his friend's expression for a moment before quietly replying, "I think it can. There's a lot to confront first though, trying to push it aside isn't going to do anything other than pave the way for future avalanches." Running wasn't going to work, avoidance wasn't going to work. Right now, they were doing what they had to but Zac hoped Ben understood that his current strategies were only short-term if he truly wanted to rebuild.

The older man nodded and just looked everywhere other than Isaac for a moment before he looked at him. “I think… I think I am too scared to confront it.” He said quietly wishing the place had been louder. Why had he chosen such a quiet place that provided a level of noise that allowed conversation.

Isaac simply nodded. "When I sat down," he confessed, "I told myself I wasn't going to pry and I wasn't going to start throwing around advice." He offered his friend a wane smile. "Old habits die hard, what can I say. But,," Isaac immediately contradicted himself, "if I can sneak in one last thing I would ask you to consider one thing." There was a pause, a moment to prepare. "If anyone had asked me three months ago who Ben Jamesson would turn to if he felt this awful about something, I wouldn't even have had to think about it." With a slow scrape, the man pushed back his stool and started to stand. "And if the follow up question had been who was best suited to help him figure things out, the same person would have been top of the list. Maybe it's not going to be what you wanted it to be."

Isaac reached out to squeeze his friend's shoulder.

"But that doesn't have to mean it's nothing at all. Neither of you are going anywhere, Ben. It's okay to still need her."

"But what if..." Ben started.

As a healthcare professional and a lanky one at that, Isaac wasn't a man prone to aggressive tendencies. If he'd been able to pick and choose, his preferred methods of stress relief involved building something, working in his garden or playing guitar, and with absolutely none of those things currently available to him, the doctor was left with making the best of things and just hoping that nobody called him on his terrible whistling. He could defend himself if he had to but it wasn't instinct, so it took a moment to process that the slight movement to the side had grown in magnitude to resemble a man now pushing him out of the way to lay a fist into the back of Ben's head. The explosion of violence was abrupt, lacking in any context at first, but from his position sprawled on the floor, Isaac realised he recognised the attacker and hurried to try and scramble to his feet before things escalated further.

It didn't take long for vitriolic accusations to cast light on a motive.

"Couldn't fucking help yourself, could you!" There wasn't a lot of time between punching someone like Ben Jamesson and remaining conscious, but it was clear that Cusack was well past the point of seeing the folly of his outrage. "Was fucking with her head not enough for you?"

Ben was taken aback as his head fell forward and he nearly hit the bar from the sudden force but he was not a man used to not reacting on his feet and quickly turned to see who had punched him and saw the Marine that had been fooling around with Calanthe. "I have no idea what you are on about." He muttered already feeling his fist opening and closing as he resisted the urge to just punch him back and be done with it.

"Oh, like fucking hell you don't." Somewhere in the pit of Cusack's mind, buried under layers of adrenaline-fueled outrage, a speck of self-preservation kept him from lashing out a second time, and even the steadying arm of the doctor across his chest was only shaken off with an intent to free himself rather than inflict damage. "That how they do things where you came from, Commander? Fabricate your little theories and then go see who's gullible enough to listen to them?"

"I have no idea what you are going on about Staff Sergeant," Benjamin replied in a calm voice not at all following the accusation that the man was throwing his way. He had an idea of who the her was but nothing else was following through on his attempts to work out what he had just been punched or what he had been able to mess with someone's head.

"Oh, so we're playing dumb now, are we? Sticking to our strengths. Fine, I'll colour between the lines for you, Jamesson." An accusatory finger came within inches of Ben's chest but didn't make contact. "When you can't see past your own fucking problems and read whatever you want into things without ever actually asking the people involved, you could at least have the fucking courtesy to keep your mouth shut."

Having somewhat managed to regain his composure, Isaac cleared his throat. "If there's been some sort of misunderstanding, then it doesn't have to be..."

"Misunderstanding? Is it a misunderstanding to tell my superior officer that I'm a piece of shit trying to juggling multiple women at once? I'd say so. I'd say that's a pretty fucking shitty thing to say about a guy without actual proof."

“I told the Warrant Officer you were in a relationship yes. I do not want to see Diaz hurt anymore and how else am I meant to see it all.” Jamesson replied finally able to understand what was going on. He had laid into Voznyuk after finding them asleep in the pod but it had been a stray warning. One that must have been taken to heart for the man to get so heated about being caught. “You do not get to play those games with that woman.” Ben said simply waiting for another punch that he was more than happy to return this time. No one got a second free punch.

"The only one playing games here is you, Jamesson. Some sick little warped version of reality where you've decided what the plot is and not bothered to check your facts." Nate leaned in, a dangerous proximity but he was well past the point of caring if the larger man laid into him. He was done being cooped up on a ship, done being too cold to enjoy the reprieve, and done having to deal with egotistical career officers who valued their own interpretation of events over the truth. "Were in a relationship. Calanthe and I were in a relationship, and it only lasted a few weeks, and then she called it off. Months ago. Could have given you that info for free but you didn't think you needed to ask. And it's not Golden Boy Ben that's going to have to wear that once Cal finds out. It'll be what-the-fuck-did-you-tell-him-Nate. Well I'm telling him right now, I may not be dating her anymore but I will shut your mouth permanently for you if you take liberties with her name again. You want to drag me through the mud for some reason, I'll piss in the dirt myself to start it off. But you leave her out of it."

“You could not shut anyone’s mouth, Staff Sergeant. You can’t even shut your own mouth.” Benjamin knew he should not have said it and knew exactly what the repercussions were going to be but he was just as fed up. He should have just turned and walked away. In a moment it looked like a scuffle was going to happen but someone forcefully pushed themselves between the two men and took potentially the hit meant for him.

By now, the altercation had attracted the attention of the entire room, which Isaac noticed with mounting dread and a compounding sense of impotence that just left him feeling tired. He wasn't entirely sure what had gone on here, though Cusack's explanation was somewhat easy to piece together, but he did know that this was not the right place for the Atlantis to be airing its dirty laundry. "Clearly there is a case here for miscommunication," he started, "which would be better served by..."

And then it was on again, only this time there was someone else pushing their way in to intercept and Isaac found himself once again shunted to the side. Cusack hadn't swung first, had found enough restraint to limit the contact to a shove with both hands, an alpha's challenge that missed its mark and simply ended up pushing around the interceptor.

“Enough.” Iryna said as she was pushed into Benjamin who quickly set her back on her feet and stood her up again. He took a couple of steps back to give some distance as the Marine officer stood there staring at the man.

"Oh, fucking fantastic, Scheherazade has turned up to finish weaving her tale. Spare me," Nate spat out, eyes locking with his superior officer's for a moment in a display of absolute reckless abandon that would have had him court martialled in a world that actually functioned properly. And it would have been something, something real and reliable, something that actually proved their entire existence wasn't some ridiculous farce and that they were all dead anyway and just hadn't had the decency to lie down yet. "I have nothing to say to you," he pointed at Voznyuk, "And since Golden Boy here hasn't had the decency to take responsibility for slander, I'm done with him too." Cusack's eyes flitted towards Hughes, the first time he'd even properly acknowledged the man, and since there wasn't really a lot he could pin on the bemused bystander, the marine curbed further remark with a twitching sneer of resentment and boiled-over frustration. "Go to hell."

Several patrons scattered, parting like the Red Sea as the marine ploughed through the wide-eyed crowd to leave the way he'd come in.

Iryna rolled her eyes and raced after him without a bothering to say anything to the other two. They got outside in to the much quieter area and the woman shoved him almost for a moment hoping he felt in the snow as it might temper it all for him and give him something of clarity. “No…” she said firmly. She was not going to hell.

"I swear to God, Voznyuk, I have never hit a woman but you are pushing me awfully close to reconsidering."

Nate had stumbled several steps but kept his footing, turning only to fire off the admittedly empty-threat before continuing a full rotation to resume his retreat. He had no real plan for where he was going, as long as it was away. The blood rushing past his ears was deafening, and his adrenaline-saturated mind could only focus on the burning desire to rid himself of the weight of responsibility. He wasn't perfect, was anyone? He'd earned his fair share of knocks and had to take the repercussions on the chin. But he hadn't done anything this time, had been forced to dig deep to stop doing anything in fact, because the break up hadn't been his idea. Now he stood accused of pursuing not one, but at least two women without any regard for respect, and the thing that infuriated him, the thing that fucked him over every time he thought about it, was that he had fucking let her fall asleep first just to make sure she was fine to sleep it off. But it wasn't enough for her, was it? No amount of experience was going to trump the misguided accusations of a halfwit who didn't know how to use his words properly.

He just wanted to go. It didn't matter where, and at this point it was directly down a path that would eventually lead to nothing but vast expanses of snow, a destination for which he was hardly dressed, but Nathan didn't care. Anywhere was preferable to the suffocation of other people's opinion of him.

Iryna rolled her eyes and did the only thing she could think of that might knock some sense into him when her push had not. She picked up some of the snow, formed it into a ball and threw it. She watched as it hit him smack in the back of the head and hopefully go down the back of his neck.