Mercy and Madi’s Midnight Mortification Meeting

Posted on Fri Aug 2nd, 2024 @ 1:06pm by Ensign Mercy Mourne & Ensign Madelyn 'Madi' Moore

Mission: Remnant
Location: Turbolift
Timeline: 407 - after midnight
5087 words - 10.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Mercy let out a jaw cracking yawn and rubbed the back of her neck. It was late, later than she should have been awake considering how early she had started. If she closed her eyes she could just see lines and lines of data. It had gotten to the point where her whole body felt stiff from being in the same position. But she had finished the work she needed to, which meant tomorrow would be off to an easier start. Pressing the button for the deck her quarters were on.

She liked everyone aboard, but there was part of her that really hoped she didn’t see the late night cleaning crew again tomorrow. She needed sleep, and it was two nights in a row she had been still working when they arrived. She leaned up against the wall of the lift and closed her eyes. She’d get in and go straight to sleep, she decided, shower could wait until-

Suddenly the lift doors opened and she frowned when she realised it wasn’t her floor, then raised an eyebrow when she saw the woman who must have called the lift. “Madi? What are you doing awake? This isn’t your floor?” Mercy looked around confused, and then back to the other ensign, holding the doors open as she waited for the woman to either step inside or wave her on.

The pair of brown eyes that lifted from their downcast aspect to meet Mercy's were so full of defeat, there wasn't any room left for startled panic or surprise. With the way the day had gone, it seemed only fitting to have an attempted flight to the security of her own quarters thwarted by fate and Madelyn honestly wasn't altogether certain she really wanted to be alone right now anyway. A decent chunk of her wanted to be back where she'd just left, extracting her foot from her mouth and actually spending time, as offered, with one of the few people on board who could raise her spirits. Normally, the woman staring expectantly at her also would have counted but the morning's conversation had frayed the edges a bit. For a while there, Madelyn had felt like the underdog's champion, self-righteous with indignation on the corrupted sensibilities of her colleague. Now, she just felt like it was probably best she stay out of other people's affairs until she stopped blasting holes in her own.

"Hey." Even her tone failed to spark any enthusiasm. "Just on my way to bed now."

“Huh.” Mercy stepped back to make space in the turbo lift, her finger hovered over the button for Madi’s deck, trying the think who she could have been visiting this late. Truthfully Mercy was dog tired, all she really wanted was to go to her own bed and pass out. But she found it nearly impossible not to help someone so visibly in distress, even if their conversation this morning had left her feeling a little wary of the other woman.

After a slight hesitation she softly sighed and then turned to look at Madi. “Want to have a sleepover and talk about it? And before you start worrying about being pitied or anything, you should know I’m going to make you sleep on the floor with a spare blanket and pillow, since I’m old and should take the bed. Or you can just come for a little chat and then go back to your own quarters? Either way if you want to speak about it the offer is there.”

For a moment, Madelyn just blinked vaguely at the other woman. "What is it with everyone trying to kick me out of my own bed tonight?" The remark was offered with the faintest of smiles, which almost didn't qualify as one but still earned minimal credit for the attempt. Truth be told, bailing on Duncan had sapped the last of her energy, and Madelyn found herself more or less vulnerable to whatever proposition became the most persistent. It was a resignation she could have done with five minutes ago but she had yet to find the keys to the time machine that permitted second chances. "Only if you're not too tired," she heard herself say. "I mean, it is stupid o'clock."

Mercy nodded and then just pushed the button to her own floor once more to send the turbo lift off. "Of course I'm too tired, we are in the middle of a fuel crisis and performing a new scan every time I breath it feels like. But frankly, you look like you need to talk to som-" Then her eyes went wide as the doors slid open. "What do you mean everyone? Actually no wait, let's get to my quarters first and you can start at the beginning." She then ushered Madi along, using the last of her energy to do it with a smile. When she got to her door she quickly opened it, then pushed Madi into the chair gently and began pulling out a spare blanket and pillow to make the young ensign a little nest.

"Okay spill, you've not been yourself lately and I'm worried. What's going on?”

It felt alarmingly good to have someone else take over. It probably helped that it was Mercy, who was adept at this level of fussing and exuded the kind of sisterly tendencies that made it easy to believe she would have let just about anyone curl up into a ball in her quarters if she felt they needed it. That went a long way towards not feeling like the last fish in the barrel, and was also why Madelyn didn't even try to refute the older woman's assertions. She may not have had a very good grasp on the bigger picture and where her current mood fit with it all, but she knew exactly what was bothering her right now.

"I thought it was earlier." Tucking the pillow beneath her chin, Madi cuddled it close to her chest and partially hid behind the strands of hair that slipped forward. "My chronometer's been doing all this weird stuff since we started having the temperature issues and I figured it could wait, it wasn't that hard to just add the difference to figure out the actual time 'cause it was still keeping time, just displaying it wrong. I guess it gave out entirely, and I finally got the nerve to talk to Duncan about the whole drunk thing and..." The last of her sentence was lost, muffled by the pillow Madi suddenly stuck her face into.

Mercy unzipped the top of her uniform, letting it hang around her hips while she looked for a comfy pair of joggers to pull on. She then quickly changed into them, taking the opportunity of Madi burying her face in her pillow to save her own modesty. Once in comfy clothes she hung the uniform up, knowing it would be all too soon before she was changing back into it. She then plopped down on the bed and faced Madi, waiting patiently for the woman to continue. When Madi simply trailed off, Mercy felt her lips twitch in a small smile.

"So you went to talk to him, what happened next?"

"He was asleep."

Madi rose her head, barely seeming to notice that an outfit change had happened whilst she'd been trying to suffocate herself.

"He was asleep, I woke him up. I didn't even notice at first, there were people in the corridor and I didn't want them to see me go into his quarters." Now that she said it out loud, Madi was miserably aware of the fact she had no good explanation for that other than she was worried they'd think the wrong thing. Given the time of night it had turned out to be, that had probably been a justifiable concern. "He just stood there. In his boxers." With an elongated groan, Madi smashed her face back into the pillow. The worst part was; that wasn't the worst part.

"Okay... so... he was sleeping though right? If he had a real problem with it he probably wouldn't have opened the door in his boxers." It took everything Mercy had in her not to ask what the view was like, but she sensed teasing might not actually be helpful right now. "What happened next? Did you manage to talk to him or did you leave him in his boxers?"

"He got dressed."

There was enough life left in the deadpan Madi shot her friend to be promising.

"And yeah, we talked a bit. And just like last time, he was being super nice about everything." Try as she might to make that sound as complicated and frustrating as it had felt, there seemed no way now to repaint the picture so that it even partially resembled the tension that had eventuated. "Why can't he just accept an apology and leave it at that?" The plaintive futility of the question saw the ensign's volume rise a little. "Why does it always have to end with, 'What's wrong, talk to me about it. Cry on my shoulder, that's fine. Here, you can sleep in my bed at the same time! That's not weird at all!' Madi slumped until her chin sank into the already-beaten plump of the slightly-abused pillow. "I just wanted to apologise," she mumbled, as if to reassure herself.

Mercy’s eyebrows shot up at that. “He asked you to sleep with him?” She seemed surprised but then something else caught her attention in what Madi was saying. Mercy winced slightly, struggling to find the right words. “Well… let me ask this, do you want me to tell you what I really think? Or do you just want to offload and for me to tell you what I think you want to hear?” Mercy smiled kindly. “I can do either but one might be harder to hear than the other and I don’t want you feeling like you are being kicked while you are down.”

From the depths of downy comfort, Madelyn's gaze was not without an element of wry humour, though it was mostly lost beneath the furrow of a brow intent on sapping the fun out of everything. "Well, you have to tell me now." There was hardly going to be any comfort derived from placations that came with an identification label.

Mercy shook her head. "No, no I don't have to tell you now. It's late, you've had a difficult day. It absolutely can wait if you just need to get things off your chest. Because relationships are something built over time right? They aren't made or broken in a single good or bad moment. You can go back and fix them." She then let out a sigh. "But if you think you can manage it now, here's what I think. I think he couldn't leave it there, because sometimes an apology isn't enough. You haven't been yourself. You are quick to snap to judgements and you get angry in a way that makes me think you are running away from something you don't or can't face. I think he couldn't leave it there because he was worried about you, and he was trying his best to help you with the limited information you are letting people see right now." Mercy's brand of tough love was almost brutal, but at the end she softened it all with a kind smile.

"I don't think offering to sleep with you is the best way to go about it, but it was late and he probably didn't want you to feel like you had to be alone. And maybe, you are reacting strongly because of something you haven't shared with him? Maybe it feels like he's being inconsiderate of your feelings but maybe he also doesn't know how your feeling really?" She tilted her head and looked Madi over carefully. "How you holding up with me having said that? You want me to stop there?" It was only half of Mercy's thoughts on the matter but sometimes things took time and she didn't need to say it all right now, because she didn't want to scare Madi away. "You can lash out at me if it helps."

If Madi had honestly thought she was going to be able to maintain eye contact for the entirety of Mercy's evaluation, then she'd grossly over-estimated her current levels of resolve. It had taken only the mention of how she'd been treating everyone lately for her gaze to seek refuge in the regimented pattern of the decking, which bore the brunt of her stare as the rest of the other woman's reasoning washed over her like a veritable wave of freezing cold reality-check. Parts of it were undeniable; nothing about her mood or the way she'd been able to spend time with anyone had been right since they'd bid farewell to Relia, though if she really took a good, hard look at the last year, there had been aspects of the crippling sense of inadequacy right from the time she'd first woken up in Sickbay and been told she was three-weeks into an emergency that had ripped her away from the support system she had no idea how to function without. Madelyn wasn't entirely sure what had escalated her anxiety, outside the general moroseness that had descended upon the entire crew for at least a few days after the year-anniversary of being lost, but she knew enough to know that Mercy was right, at least in that regard. She was acting different because she felt different.

She was less sure what to make of the rest of it, not confident she understood what Mercy had meant by not sharing everything with Duncan, though it was possibly just because it was hard to think on new problems when the crushing guilt of freaking out on someone just trying to be a good friend actually left her stomach feeling sore. The perspective Mercy gave it, which sounded utterly reasonable and logical and easily proven by all available evidence, was a lot less selfish than the constant expectation that people take into consideration feelings she hadn't even begun to express honestly. With miserable clarity, she was left only with the certainty that she wished she'd agreed to stay and talk to him and was struggling to latch onto the hope Mercy was offering that it wouldn't be the last time he asked.

Rather than respond, Madi dropped her head and buried her face once more. By now, she had managed to pull her entire body into the chair, legs hugged to her chest as she huddled in the vain hope that hiding would make it less likely that she'd burst into tears. It wasn't working that great.

"Oh hey now, hey." Mercy said as the woman started to cry. Mercy moved and sat beside her and gathered her into a big hug. If there was one thing Mercy wasn't scared of it was tears, if anything they told her she might have been closer to the truth than she realised. "You're okay Mads, let it all out." She rubbed the girl's back gently. "You know, you're a good person in a shit situation. So is Duncan. We all are just trying to do our best with what's available to us right? We just need to remember we are going to have to accept the things we can't change and try and make the most out of the things we can. Otherwise we are just making it even harder for ourselves."

Mercy then leaned away a moment and came back with some tissues which she offered Madi. "I have these because you're not the only one who needs to cry sometimes."

It wasn't, at least, the same level of messiness that had seen her saturate Duncan's shoulder. These tears were quieter, bleaker, silent and stealth-like in in a way that allowed Madi to at least maintain control over her diaphragm. Rather than a torrential cascade, there was just the steady plop-plop of the latest drop to spill over her lower lid and escape the tangle of her damp lashes, which she eventually started to wipe up with the handful of tissues she accepted. Even so, it didn't take long for her eyes to become swollen and red-rimmed, a feature as much of exhaustion as of misery.

"How do you do it?"

The question came after a long pause, punctuated only by the occasional sniffle.

"You always see the best in people, in situations. We're stranded out here, with no idea of how to get back, on a ship that's already starting to fail us. We don't know anything about where we are, some of us nearly got eaten by the interstellar version of a Dionaea muscipula for pity's sake. We barely have anything to offer and not everyone is likely to be as charitable as the Realians. People are already starting to act like this is just the way things are now, it's like... It's like we're slowly moving towards not even trying to get home anymore. How do you stay so hopeful when everything is this awful?"

"Well, it's hard work." Mercy laughed softly and shook her head slowly. But she wanted to be able to answer Madi honestly. "I think... well this might suck to hear a little, but just know I think the world of you okay? I think what you are feeling is valid. I just think your perspective needs a bit of a tweak." Mercy took a deep breath, making sure she was mentally prepared to make herself a little vulnerable.

"Everything you said was true, but I see it a little differently I guess. Yes we are stranded, nothing can change that, but we have an idea of how to get back, it's just currently going to take us a while. We have a ship, sometimes she fails us, but she's still moving and we have all the expertise we need to keep her moving. We don't know much about where we are or the lifeforms we encounter, but we have an opportunity to learn and we will also discover remarkable things as we do. Together I have faith we can keep moving, because the alternative is that we give up. And well, that's not an alternative in my book. But nothing worth doing in life ever comes easily. If it feels hard then it means we are probably on the right track."

Mercy gave Madi a cautious smile. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mads, but sometimes when you talk about regretting choosing this posting it hurts my heart a little. You see, you had a choice, you had your pick of ships yes? You had parents who were in Starfleet and able to make recommendations and guide your career. You've probably always had support. But for me, well it was a little different. I won't bore you with the details but this posting was a dream posting. I never thought I would be more than a research assistant. I worked really hard to be here and when you talk about this posting like it's a bad decision you made, it makes me feel like my life isn't worth anything from your perspective, because this is the best I could do and I didn't have lots of other choices. But that's only one perspective right? That's just my insecurities taking over. If I step back and look at it differently I realise yes, I didn't have the opportunities you had, but I do have a set of experiences which have taught me that no matter where I am, life is good if I make the most of it. I could get angry at you for something I perceive as an insult, or I can shift my perspective and see that it's just a sign that you are struggling. You have probably always had support, you've never had to learn what I have, and honestly I'm glad. I've learnt I can't choose what happens to me, but I can choose how I respond. I can't help my family didn't have enough money for me to do what I wanted, I can't help that I have always had to work to help support them. But I can be grateful for the fact that as long as we are lost, I have put arrangements in place for them to still receive my pay and if I am declared missing in action or dead they will get my pension. So if I can do that, it's easy to choose to trust that you are a good person, and you are trying your best. It's not easy, and sometimes it means saying things that make you vulnerable. Like right now, I'm worried I will have upset you by what I said about your parents, but I'm also trusting you to give me the same benefit of the doubt."

She then grins. "Plus I'm older and uglier and any mistake you have made I have probably made too. You might feel a little bit hopeless right now, but I see that you are smart, kind, resourceful and sure you sometimes make a hash of how you communicate sometimes, but you go back and try and fix it when you do. That takes courage and I find that admirable. You clearly know what you don't want, but what do you want? If you figure that out you can then I know you can accomplish it. Plus if you do like Duncan, it's not like he's your boss right? There would be no shame in it, he's nice." Mercy then rubbed the back of her own neck.

"Oh dear, I've waffled again huh? Sorry!"

It was, when it all boiled down, the most Madelyn had heard of another person's perspective in what amounted to a decently long time. Very little of it was easy to listen to, especially the parts that called her out for seeming ungrateful and judgemental, but Madelyn found it surprisingly a far better pill to swallow than the constant deflection of stoicism that Kiyara projected, or Duncan's shrugging indifference to his own sense of loss and the claim that he'd moved past any sense of grief or despair. Just someone to relate to, someone who had not lost sight of everything left behind, who didn't unintentionally project a sense of shifting priorities, that's all she really wanted. As a junior officer with no meaningful say in where the ship went or how their situation was going to be handled long-term, it meant something, at least, to know that Mercy still had family back home she was open about missing.

As for the rest of it...

"I'm sorry." Of all the times she'd said the words lately, these came out perhaps the most sincere. They were certainly steady, calm almost, the reflection of a home truth that had hit the mark. "Atlantis is a prime posting, and given what your aspirations were, of course it's a huge achievement that you earned your place here entirely on your own merit. I don't think I'm better than you, or that working here is somehow beneath me, it's just... It's not what I wanted for the rest of my life." Madelyn's gaze drifted downwards, resignation for her next admission. "Which is probably stupid because look at where it's got me. Surrounded by alien races, cultures, customs... The only Earth Starfleet xenologist to ever meet any of them, should be cause for celebration, huh?"

A shoulder was tentatively hunched, as if to twist against the gnawing discomfort of irony, and she shifted focus slightly.

"Things are different now and I get that. I've tried to be helpful though I'm honestly not very good at growing plants. I thought it'd be okay, that it wouldn't matter if I tipped the occasional bag of fertilizer on the floor or overwatered the green beans because this wasn't meant to be what I did for the rest of my life. But it might be what I have to do for the rest of my life."

She lifted her eyes, their expression slightly haunted by stark acceptance, to meet the older woman's again.

"You're amazing at what you do, Mercy. Not just the actual work but the attitude you're able to maintain, I don't know how you manage it but it makes a huge difference." Rapid blinking quickly dispelled the fresh audacity of tears. "Making a difference is practically my family's mantra. Right back, we've always been pioneers. I'd half-expect a lot of them to choose this life if it was actually offered to them. I don't really know what I want," she finally addressed the point. "I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact that I can't choose from the same list I used to."

“Ah you goof, you have nothing to apologise to me for, but I appreciate the sentiment. I didn’t say any of that looking for an apology, or to make you feel bad. I just wanted to show how shifting a perspective can help you with your mindset. But it’s not easy, and it takes practice. And sometimes things are just a bit shit and you have to ride them out. But I promise you, whatever you are doing now, life will be different in a year’s time. Change is the one constant you can count on.” She gives the other woman a hug. “You’re doing okay. And I really appreciate you opening up a little.”

Mercy then tapped her nose and winked at Madi in a ‘spot on’ gesture. “You are right about that too, things are different, and your list of choices is different too. I think it would help you to spend some time thinking about what you want. Maybe start by identifying what it is about your old career path inspired you. You might be able to find something with the same qualities here. Then if you want I can help you talk to Da-Lieutenant Darru about it. So you don’t want to work in Hydroponics? Okay, so where would you like to work instead? You don’t need the answer right now, give yourself time to work it out. I am sure he would want you to find satisfaction in your work.”

Mercy then looked alarmed. “Ah the beans! They’ll get root rot… oh sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to… I’m sure a little overwatering won’t hurt, just, if the leaves turn yellow, ease up okay? And if you need help I have a xeno-botany degree you know, I’d be more than happy to help once the fuel crisis is over. Could be in exchange for you helping me with my data storage problem?”

Mercy then predictably blush. “Eh, enough about how awesome I am. I’m 30 and still an Ensign, the grass here isn’t greener, just a little longer.” Still the kind words warmed her heart a little. “Now come on we have to get up in…” She looked at the chronometer and winced. “Four hours. Time to sleep.”

Mercy then bustled about a bit, she settled first Madi and then herself into bed and turned out the lights. Then her voice came through in the dark.

“Hey Mads?”

As she lay stretched out on her back staring up at the darkened ceiling, Madi was struck by the inherent silliness of her situation. There was a perfectly good bed not that far away, there was no need to be wrapped up in a cocoon with her face only inches away from the frazzled fibres of the standard-issue rug saving her from waking up with decking-imprints indenting both butt cheeks. Bafflingly, however, she felt far more comfortable than she had in weeks and though Mercy might not have been her first choice for people-Madi-wished-she'd-accepted-a-sleepover-with, she was a very close and welcome second. Tucking the blanket beneath her chin, Madelyn curled onto her side and replied, "Yeah?"

There was a soft sound as Mercy turned in her bunk to face where she thought Madi might be in the dark. "You really think Darru doesn't care..?" 'About me' she wanted to finish, but Mercy couldn't find the courage to complete the thought so she left it open ended. It was only the dark hiding her expression which gave her the bravery to ask.

If it had been any other time, Madi would have been certain of her response, though arguably not as uncomplimentary about it as she had strayed towards recently. After the evening's antics, she was honestly less sure of everything and lacked the potency of the anger that had fueled her earlier words to aid her in sticking to her guns.

"I don't know," she replied reasonably but without much reassurance. "Vulcans don't apply the same emotional framework to situations as we do. A lot of what passed as indifference during early exchanges was later found to be just a product of a different value structure." There was a ping of conscience that prickled the back of Madi's mind as she recalled her studies but she ignore it in favour of adding, "Maybe he didn't care because that kind of thing just isn't a priority to him, he still should have said something."

Mercy let out a soft hum of understanding in the dark. She turned Madi's words over in her mind. It would have been nice to be someone's priority, but maybe she had let that secret hope had coloured her interpretation of the situations. Oh hells, it was all so confusing. The best she could do now was to mentally commit to staying open minded and trying to stop her own cultural assumptions colouring her interactions with her non-human colleagues from here on out. "Maybe the way he cares and values people looks different too." Again Mercy pushed aside her own situation in favour of focusing Madi. "Worthing think about huh?" Her voice trailed off slowly and her breath started to grow heavy, the dark working its magic on her tired brain, slowly switching things off. When she got no response, she drifted off to sleep with one last “night Madi.”