Aimless Wandering

Posted on 05 May 2015 @ 9:26pm by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D.

2,340 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Galileo, Random deck, then Deck 4, Wintrow's quarters
Timeline: MD2, 0200

[ON]

Having made sure Allyndra was alright, Wintrow had left her quarters feeling quite happy. He was still holding a bandage to his wrist despite the bleeding already having stopped. The youth simply didn't seem to notice as he wandered the corridors of the USS Galileo.

Though he had initially wanted to return to the Klingon vessel and resume the party's attendance, he had thought better of it because the sheer sight of a Klingon was so daunting and terrifying. He steered clear of oncoming crew, without really noticing them. His gaze was faraway as he walked, though he wore an odd smile on his face.

From the other side of the corridor, Oren stepped out of one of the rooms, a paDD in each hand and a slightly worried look on his face. Determined to write the most elaborate report on Klingon battle maneuvers and make Kohl regret doubting him in the first place, Oren somehow regretted not paying more attention to wars back during his University years. Pacing down the deck towards his office, he briefly looked up to avoid an incoming crewmember.

Recognising Wintrow immediately, Oren shot him a tired smile. "Evening, Wintrow. Or...morning?"

Initially, Wintrow didn't seem to recognize him, but he turned as he heard his name being called. "I don't know," he answered, a confused look crossing his face for a moment. "But it's good for sure," he added, the goofy smile returning almost instantly. "Hello Oren."

Oren's smile widened slightly in response to Wintrows, but he gave him an uncertain look. Although he was glad to see the young cadet so happy, a part of him couldn't help but wonder how anyone could be happy at 0200 hours.

"Look at you all happy and festive," he said, unable to keep his thoughts to himself. "Where have you been?"

"uhm..." Wintrow hesitated, first looking in every direction while trying to recall, before settling on Oren again. "I left the party with Ensign Murray and Doctor Warraquim to take the doctor home. I stayed with the doctor while Miss Murray left." The hand around his wrist tightened unconsciously as he licked his lips. "I'm not quite sure what I've done the last hour or so....I feel a bit fuzzy."

Oren's smile faltered slightly. "Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step towards Wintrow before stopping as he remembered the young man's aversion to physicality.

"I'm fine," the teenager replied, "just a bit fuzzy. I remember leaving the doctor's quarters, I even remember tucking her in... but after leaving...I do remember feeling a little better than before. Happier and a little...drunk? But I haven't been drinking, I swear. I don't drink."

"Did you eat something?" Oren knew that, apart from bloodwine, there was very little if anything in Klingon cuisine that could cause such a reaction in someone after ingestion, but perhaps Betazoid physiology was different.

"Targ meat, I think it was. I was assured it was safe. Really Oren, nothing happened at the party..." He was trying to wave it off, though painstakingly trying not to draw attention to his hands. The doctor had warned him of the stigma the first time she'd done this, and he figured that it was his secret to keep. And, truth be told, it did make him feel better; less scared to be sure. "And I drank water all evening."

"You look a bit off," Oren said, studying him. His eyes fell on the boy's wrist. "Where were you off to, anyway?" From their last meeting, Oren knew that Wintrow's quarters weren't even close to their current location. In fact, he couldn't imagine anything on that deck that would hold the interest of a young man.

"Just walking," Wintrow said softly, looking away again, "I'm not really sure of where I was going to go. I came from the doctor, and I helped her..." He tried to pull his sleeve further down towards his hand, but failed. "She needed blood..."

"Blood?" Oren asked, momentarily confused as his eyes were drawn to Wintrow's wrist. "What did she do to you?" he asked slowly. Part of him hoped Wintrow was referring to Dr. Allyndra because the idea of another female doctor needing blood sounded absolutely appalling.

"She bit me," Wintrow explained, "I wanted her to, because she needed it. She wasn't feeling well...and I wanted her to do it. She'd done it before by way of experiment so I knew what to expect, sort of...." He trailed off, really not wanting to go into detail about a private affair.

"Oh..." Oren found himself at a loss for words. What does one say to such a thing, anyway, especially after having been awake for almost 24 hours straight?

As he was about ask Wintrow if he needed anything, he suddenly caught sight of something. "Wintrow, is your lip bleeding?" he asked, leaning forward to take a closer look. Surely enough, there was a small bloodstain at the corner of the boy's lip.

Startled, Wintrow brought his hand up to wipe his mouth, then stared at the bloodspot on the back of his hand. "No," he then answered quietly, "that's not mine..."

"It's no..what?" Oren asked, slightly shocked at what Wintrow was implying. This is why Oren went to bed at 2300 hours. Nothing good happened after that, and this was proof.

"It's not mine," Wintrow repeated, still staring at the small drop on his hand. "It's Doctor Warraquim's... please..can we not discuss this in the middle of a hallway? It's...private.."

Oren looked from one side of the corridor to the other. It was deserted and, looking back at Wintrow, he shrugged.

"Do you mind if I see you back to your quarters? I know it's none of my business, but you probably shouldn't be wandering around in the state you're in."

"No I don't mind..." The youth shook his head. "I'm not quite sure where they are right now...I wanted to go home but I couldn't find it. So I just started walking." He smiled softly. "Please don't blame the doctor, I only wanted to help. And this was the condition..."

"Uh huh," Oren just said, unsure what else he could say without sounding too judgmental. He wasn't judging the...whatever it was between Wintrow and the doctor, but he knew that there was nothing he could say to make it sound like he wasn't.

"Come on, it's this way," he said instead, pointing Wintrow in the right direction. As they walked quietly, Oren shot the boy a small smile. "The line 'We have to stop meeting like this' comes to mind now."

"Meet like what?" The younger man allowed himself to be guided, feeling a little lightheaded now, as if he had been drinking despite his claim to the contrary. "I'm always glad to see you Oren..."

"That's sweet." Oren smiled. "But I meant me leading you to your quarters. This is the second time. Maybe I should sew the locations of your quarters into your clothes?" he suggested playfully.

"Second time?" The young hybrid blinked in confusion, momentarily not remembering when the first time was. "I don't understand, why would you do that? I know where my quarters are I just can't find them right now."

Confused as well, Oren couldn't help but also feel concerned for the young man. "Don't you remember? We'd met to discuss the class you were taking with me. You were...troubled and I offered to listen. Afterwards, you were feeling a little drained so I helped you get home safely."

"Oh...right." Wintrow cast him a rueful smile. "That troubledness hasn't really passed," he confessed, "but I don't want to talk about it. This bite..the first time she did this it left me feeling very happy, but it didn't last for very long. She said it'd feel as if I were on a high. This second time, I think the effect took longer but I don't know why. She didn't take much at all..."

Oren gave Wintrow a look, holding his hand up to him. "Wintrow," he began. "You don't need to explain yourself. I respect your privacy." Strangely, Oren felt like he didn't really need to know Wintrow's business, which was an odd sensation for him. Usually, he adored asking questions in an almost intrusive manner, wanting to hear what others had to say. But that night, walking with Wintrow, Oren felt for the first time in his life like he actually didn't want to know. It had nothing to do with the boy himself, of course. Oren still wanted to see him home safely simply to be able to sleep that night. He realised it had more to do with himself, like he'd finally realised that maybe he had enough in his life to deal with without adding other people's problems to the whole mess inside his head.

"THank you." Wintrow's answer was simple and short as they walked, though the youth strayed a little closer to the El-Aurian. "I'm so tired suddenly...Oren? Can you check in on the doctor for me in the morning? Please? I want to make sure she's alright..."

Hesitating, Oren agreed against his better judgment. Although he didn't want to get personally involved, knowing he'd broach the subject of the hematophagy with the doctor no matter how much he tried to resist. He didn't judge the practice itself, recognising that it was a part of the doctor's culture but seeing Wintrow dazed like this made Oren question her wisdom in practicing it.

"I will," he said. "First thing in the morning when I wake up, I'll go and see her." Watching Wintrow's steps become a bit slower, Oren almost reached up to support him but resisted. "You're probably tired from the blood loss," he said unnecessarily, just to fill the silence.

"She was careful, only a few drops." He stopped walking. "She didn't want to at first, but she needed it." He smiled at Oren. "Her bite doesn't harm me, it makes me feel better, less afraid. But that's not why I did it. I wanted to help, nothing more."

"It's really sweet that you wanted to help her," Oren said, returning the boy's smile. He stopped as well, turning his body towards Wintrow. "Just...never mind." Oren shook his head, deciding not to get too involved. "You're a big boy; you know what you're doing."

"I hope so," Wintrow replied uncertainly, "I don't know how to deal with this. I mean...I want to help, but this helps me too and I don't want to end up wanting to help her because of it. Because I might need whatever she does with her bite."

"Maybe you should tell her about it. So that she knows."

"How?" the teenager choked out, "she'll probably not do it again anyway. At least I don't think so..." They reached the room he shared with Nesh and he stumbled inside. "What was it again that I didn't want to tell out there"

"The blood on your mouth," Oren reminded, following Wintrow into his quarters with a tentative step. Wrapping his arms around himself as he entered the unfamiliar space, Oren looked around.

"Oh right." Wintrow gestured towards the couch. "Make yourself at home, there's no need to be uncomfortable," he suggested, unconsciously reading the man's emotions. "She had me drink some of her blood...a sort of bonding ritual, so she'd allow me to give her some of mine."

"Do you think that was safe?" Oren asked before thinking about it, accepting Wintrow's offer to sit down.

"I doubt she would've allowed it if it wasn't." Wintrow sat down next to him on the couch, folding his hands in his lap. "I didn't feel weirded out by it and she seemed to appreciate my willingness to do it." He turned his head towards Oren. "I owe her my life....if this is what I can do to help her once in a while, I won't complain."

Oren's eyes softened as they regarded Wintrow. Knowing what he knew about his past, he admired his ability to still wish to help someone. Despite all of the pain he'd endure, Wintrow had remained kind.

"I understand," he said, deciding not to tell him to be careful again. He didn't need someone coddling him.

"You do?" Surprise was reflected in the boy's eyes. "Why aren't you judging me for this? Everyone else would... drinking someone's blood...letting someone feed on you, willingly that is..."

Oren's lip curled into a small smile. "I try not to judge," he told him kindly. "I don't think there is anything wrong with drinking blood in itself, as long as it's practiced safely. You're a smart young man, I believe you know what you're doing."

"If this is a mistake I can only learn from it right? But I don't think it is...it felt right and it still does."

"See? You've got it all under control." Oren smiled at Wintrow knowingly. The Betazoid had a good head on his shoulders and Oren felt that all he really needed was someone to actually believe that. To believe in him.

Nodding, Wintrow leanded back. "I think I should go to bed....thank you for taking me home Oren, I appreciate it. I'll be alright for the rest of the night."

Nodding, Oren slowly stood up, allowing himself a few moments to stretch. After almost a whole day of work and very little sustenance, Oren was starting to feel the effects now. Luckily, he heard nothing crack as he finally settled his arms at his sides.

"I will see you around then," he told the boy. "I'll check up on Allyndra in the morning and let you know how she is in a message. Okay?"

"That's fine, thank you." Wintrow stood too, though a little unsteadily. "Good night Oren."

[OFF]

Cadet SO Wintrow Paragon
Helmsman
USS Galileo
[pnpc T'Vanna]

Oren Idris, Ph.D.
Archaeologist/Anthropologist
USS Galileo

RSS Feed