Unbearable Vulnerabilities [18+] (Part 4 of 5)

Posted on 30 Apr 2019 @ 10:00pm by Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant & Lieutenant JG Matthew Plumeri

3,372 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Episode 17 - Crystal of Life
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 3, Counseling Office & Deck 7, Gym
Timeline: Various

Previously on “Unbearable Vulnerabilities” [18+] (Part 3 of 5)…

"Why does it have to be one or the other with you?" Lake asked indignantly. He held out his hands like a scale, palms up, weighing out science and belief. Clearly, this wasn't the first time Lake had had this argument with a patient. Clearly. "Either I approach my duty with a scientific method or I can care about my crewmates' well being. Science or belief," Lake spat out. "Are you telling me when you were investigating the ruins of Cheron, you lovingly caressed every piece to learn from it through touch alone? Or were you robotically following a checklist with no curiosity for what those artifacts meant to people, nor what the Federation could learn from them. Because apparently you can only do one or the other."

"No, no...I can do both those things. Don't call me a robot. I mean, it's not black or white. It's not like that. I'm not like that OK?" Uh oh, he was getting mad again. His mind raced and he hated the idea that other people thought he wasn't smart or that he couldn't do something as well as they could. He let out a sigh. If he had been a steam engine it would have been hot steam coming out with that sigh.

Then he suddenly stopped. Held his breath. Looked at Lake, "Wait a second. Cheron? 'Lovingly caressed'? Are you reading my log entries?”

And now the continuation…


[ON]

"Yes. Of course," Lake answered plainly, he stared right back at Matthew. His eyes were pools of obsidian, reflecting Matthew's own expression back of him as much as they revealed Lake's own thoughts. Lake explained,"I read your service record and your duty log entries. I read about your work with the diplomatic corps, with the Nimitz and Starbase 80.”

There it was. Again. For the second time now Matthew could recognize that Lake was being genuine with him. Lake may be a lot of things, Matthew thought to himself, but he wasn't a liar and this right here - right now - was the real deal. Lake was telling him the truth and it wasn't because he was ticking off a 'to-do' list. Lake had told him some unpleasant truths; things about Plumeri that he didn't want to hear but he told him anyway. There is a word for that, Integrity. Speaking the honest truth in the face of someone who clearly doesn't like you takes guts. The other idea is that Lake wasn't going to give up on him. Earlier, when he asked him, 'Where would you go?' demonstrated that in his own way, the Counselor cared about even this confused, irritating, profane, illogical, emotional...lonely crewman.

Lake said that he read the duty logs. Matt knew that as a Counselor, Lake could have read any of the logs. He would have the right to review them to try and determine the mental health of a science officer. But he didn't...and that idea struck him as...respect. Perhaps it was even more?

Not many therapists, Starfleet or otherwise, are going to choose that hard road out. There is simply not enough time. Matt reminded himself that he wasn't the only crewman with needs and problems. He *might* though be the only one giving Lake this severe of a headache.

The Fontalan/Human felt hot and he blushed. Matthew said, softly, "I'm sorry. I jumped to a conclusion. I thought you had maybe accessed my personal logs. I...would like to keep them personal. I mean private? No..." he shook his head and sighed. "...no, what I mean to say is...thank you for giving me space. Thank you for not putting my mess of a life under the counseling microscope." He felt awkward and the words didn't come easily for him. "It's not you Counselor. It really isn't." And finally, he said it, "I'm so tired of being angry all the time.
I took it out on you because...you dared to come close enough. And I didn't want your help. Because I knew I needed help. And I didn't think you could understand what it feels like...in here..." he indicated to his heart, "...where it hurts so much. All the time...all I have is Starfleet and this job. If you take that away from me; then what good am I to anyone?" He hung his head and then drawing his knees up close, he rested his arms and then his head on them, "I'm so tired. I'm tired of being angry and I'm so tired of being alone. And...I don't know what to do now."

Shifting his weigh, Lake leaned into the bulkhead. He moved no closer to Matthew. Matthew would have to come to him. "The answer to that is simple," Lake said like he truly believed it. He looked at Matthew -- looked right at him -- and he waited for Matthew to be looking back at him. "Just keep talking to me. I don't want to take anything away from you. I need your attention for an hour from time to time. What else were you going to be doing with that hour?"

The silence that was created was awkward. Looking directly at Lake was awkward too. "Thank you. OK? Thank you. It's not that easy for me. I don't like what I see these days. And I have other...concerns." Matt didn't elaborate on that point and looked away. "Look, I know I'm contradictory. I mean more than usual. It's just...I think its the mission we're on. The long journey to get where we're going. All this stuff we already mentioned." He was quiet a moment and he made a decision silently. If one listened carefully one could almost hear the gears in his head 'click' as he rounded a mental corner. He kept his gaze on the floor, too embarrassed now to admit defeat. "I don't want to fight you no more", he said through his thick accent and not so elegant Standard. He could hear how he sounded and it frustrated him. "I don't want to...fight you any more." He put a hand to his head, "I need...some help OK." He said it more as a statement than a question. His heart hurt at the admission and silent tears flowed onto his cheeks.

---

Timeline: Two weeks ago
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 7, Ship's Gymnasium

Matthew was in the gym at this late hour. He was working on the chest press now. It felt good to workout. It felt good because it was something he could control. He did his reps until his abs and chest were sore and then stood up to take a breather.

When Matthew had been focused on pushing that barbell, Lake ir-Llantrisant had stepped into the compartment. He was wearing a Starfleet tank-top and running shorts of a bygone era, styled with archaic Starfleet arrowhead emblems. By the time Lake had taken notice of Matthew, he was far enough into the workout room that he couldn't simply turn around and run away. At this point, he would need to pretend he had forgotten something or fake an emergency comm signal. Or he could not.

Rather than distract Matthew from his workout, Lake continued on his path to the dumbbells. He made no attempt to draw attention to himself, nor to greet Matthew. Lake took a couple of lighter weights in his hands to stretch and to warm up before his workout. All the while, Lake kept Matt in his peripheral vision. He kept watch, because Lake supposed his position in the Counseling department, and the senior staff, came with certain responsibilities to every member of the crew -- regardless of their personal history.

When Lake saw Matt stand up for his breather, Lake turned to him and he said, "Good morning." Morning because of his team's rotation shift schedule. To offer Matt his full attention, Lake put his dumbbells aside. In the time that took him, he couldn't decide on what he should say to Matt. For lack of anything else to say, Lake asked, "Need a spotter?"

He saw Lake come into the gym but luckily, he was too determined to finish…this……rep! “UGH!” he said as he finished and stood away from the chest press. Matt was sure that Lake wouldn’t speak to him. He was sure that Lake, being Romulan and better than everybody, would have, by now, surely labeled Matthew as just another weak, highly emotive Human. So when Lake did address him first it was a bit of a surprise.

Working out gave him confidence and he felt more in control. More stable, more centered. Physically he felt good and mentally he felt clear headed and in control. So, when the old feelings of irritation came up, he was able to deal with them better. He looked at Lake and nodded, “Morning. Yeah. OK. Let’s see what you got. Counselor.” But this time, there was no poison in that word. There was no vitriol. Matt could respect one thing in “that Romulan” was that Lake would not give up. To a guy like Plumeri that was gold-pressed latinum. It was creds. Something real and you either had it or you didn’t.

Matthew also recognized that Lake was trying to be open and civil. His annoyance at the man was not like it was before. Lake had been vulnerable too, bared private feelings and some information that could be personally damaging to a senior officer. Matt, of course, would never use that to hurt him. But it was the fact that Lake had put it out there and in the recent weeks of their counseling sessions, Lake had shared things that no other Counselor had shared about themselves. It was that willingness to demonstrate that everyone has some weaknesses and some messy areas of their lives that Matt could respect. The other big factor was that Lake had shown Matt kindness, compassion and respect. Qualities that he never thought would come from a Romulan.

“Do you even lift man?” Matt asked. He put on his best poker face; he tried not to let a grin creep onto his face but he was a terrible liar. His eyes betrayed him. The ‘barb’ was a poke; his way of saying, ‘Yeah- brah. OK.’

Although Lake wasn't familiar with the cultural reference, he could understand the literal meaning of the words. Lake breathed out through his nose and he shrugged at that question. "What else is there to do," Lake asked, flexing for Matt briefly, "aboard a starship at night?"

Matt's grin broke into a smile and a snorted laugh. Lake was cut, lean and muscular. He filled out his retro gym shorts and old style t-shirt nicely. "You got some guns on you counselor" he said as he wiped his hands and met him for the walk over to the weight bench.

Losing himself in thought for a heartbeat, Lake narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. As he followed Matt's footsteps, Lake shook his head to disagree with some part of Matt's assumptions. "Who said I've always been a counselor?" Lake asked, mostly rhetorically.

Matt smiled broadly, he felt like he could jest with Lake a bit. Walking to the weight bench he looked over his shoulder and teased back, "No one, I figured you prolly started training at dickhead, moved up to asshole before graduating into Counselor." All the while he said it he was grinning. He walked "cock-of-the-walk" as he looked behind him for a moment with a grin on his face.

"What I mean," Lake said, neither acknowledging nor chiding Matthew for his crude barb, "is I've been in a place, in a mindset, where my body felt like it was the only thing I could control. I came to the Federation as a refugee. Even when I earned my citizenship, I had no real education to speak of, no references. I worked out to distract myself from the futility of my meaningless existence, and create some small illusion of agency." Too easily, Lake fell back into old patterns of being, as he moved to stand behind the weight bench.

'Futility' and 'meaningless' were words that resonated in him. Matthew stopped when he reached the weight bench as he caught up to what Lake had said. "Yeah...I've felt that way before. Sometimes I feel like I'm nothing more than a talking monkey around here. Sometimes, that's how I feel. Working out, keeping myself in the best shape I can.
It's...one of the very few things I can control." He looked up at Lake a moment and saw and registered a connection. It was kinda scary. He looked back at the bench and said nothing for a second. How badly had he misjudged the man?

"It is the only thing I can control. For the most part I mean" Matt said as he picked up a weight and racked it onto the bar. He reached for another weight on the other side, "Don't get me wrong though; I'm not a control freak.I just like to be able to choose my own path. The stars were here long before me - and they will be here long after I'm gone. So, all's I gots is the here and the now." He racked another weight bringing the bar to 65kg (143 pounds).

Nodding lightly, Lake said, "I respect that. I respect that a lot. I'd say that features as a cornerstone of my own philosophy as well. ...I think we're pretty fortunate aboard Galileo. There are more of us than you'd expect who feel that way. At least that's the impression I got from our launch party."

Matt laid down on the bench and raised his arms to take the weight of the bar. He lifted it off the rack and asked unexpectedly, "That was a fun party. How come..." he lowered the weight until his upper arms were parallel to the floor - he had good form - and then raised them up and pushed the bar up. "...you didn't want to hook up that night?"

Scoffing at the question --not because it was asked, but because of what it assumed-- Lake secured his posture with an athletic stance and held his palms out under the bar. "Are you kidding me?" Lake asked, although that was a Universally Translated adjustment to a traditional Romulan exclamation. "I wanted to drag you somewhere private and have my way with you. I told you I wanted to hook up," he said, using Matt's colloquialism. "You then thanked me for the drink and wandered off to dance."

"You so did...wait? What? Why didn't...wait. I thought that's what you said. I thought you were offering....I don't know....I thought you wanted to suck me off and that you were offering." He raised the ar up again and grunted. Then he lowered it for the third set. "But when I heard that you were a player. Then...I was like. OK. No big deal. It's just sex. I was good for a free blowjob and a quickie." He looked up at Lake's upside down face from his perspective. "Why were you being such an ass about it? I thought you wanted to..y'know...do the nasty and then you were all talking about how you're not all an easy lay. It' didn't matter a fuck-all to me man. I just figured you lost your nerve or something." He lifted the weight for the fourth time and his arms started to shake.

"That-- that-- that's a lot of information," Lake said, blinking heavily as if that might help him better follow Matt's verbal stream of consciousness. He cupped his hands closer to the bar, but he allowed Matt to push under his own strength. "You were still the one who walked away," Lake said; "What was I doing that came across like an ass to you?"

"Ugh!" he said as he lowered the bar, still keeping really good form. Shoulder muscles, his traps and triceps were feeling hot. He held that and then pushed up. "Be-cause...I am still new...here." The bar was at full height He gritted his teeth and lowered it. His form wasn't so great now and he wasn't parallel to the floor. "The party was my first....UGH!...exposure to the crew. I didn't want to get a reputation as 'just another lay' of the....studly...hot looking...counselor!" He pushed it back up but he was wavering now. "And...you are an ass...sometimes." He slowly lowered the bar, beads of sweat formed on his brow. He wasn't going as low and he wasn't holding the pose. He tried to correct himself and his arms and shoulders were stressed. "Plus, everybody...likes you. All the ladies...looking at you. And you know it. They were watching you...while we were talking and.."

The palms of Lake's hands were fully touching the bar now. He wasn't applying any pressure, but he was ready to catch it if need be. Disregarding any of Matt's assumptions about what exactly Lake thought or knew, Lake was mostly inspired to say, "I have to admit, I'm curious about something you said. Just another lay. Those words imply a form of a measurement, perhaps of time, perhaps of value. Do you have qualitative or quantitative classifications you use to describe your interpersonal interactions?" --When Matt's form went uneven, Lake tugged at the bar lightly to even it out-- "Is there a numerical scale you use to describe your sexual behaviour?"

Grimacing as he pushed the weights up he made a face. He pushed and grunted and groaned, "AaaaarrrGGHHH!!!!" but he made it. He finished that set and aimed the weights for the rack above his head. His muscles were sore. He was grateful for the help. He said, between breaths as he sat up. Blood veins in his shoulders and along the pecs and down his arms bulging out at having been pressed and stressed. His breathing was hard, "No...it doesn't....imply a 'form of measurement' at all!" Matt said as he used air quotes to show that he was quoting Lake. "And no, I don't quantify, count or mark off my friends or the number of people I go to bed with!" He got up and reached for the water bottle and cast Lake a stare. He took two gulps of water and took a walk-about in front of the weight bench. "See? This is what I mean about you being a prick about things. And for your your information, not that I count or take note of these things anyway.
On a scale from 1 to 10 with 10 being mind-blowing, orgasmic, call in sick the next day and walk funny to sick bay? Yeah, if I were assigned a number for sex? It'd probably be a 10." He glared at him and then, surprisingly he added, "And you are a good spotter. So thank you!"

"You're welcome," Lake replied. The words came out quickly, as if he were already thinking about something else. His gaze had become lost in the middle-distance between them. "It's interesting," Lake said, finally reaching his conclusion with clear fascination, "As much as you like to talk, you appear to bristle at having to explain yourself.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, "C'mon Lake! Give it a rest. Don't be a counselor OK?" Matt said it in a non-condescending tone of voice and he had little annoyance to it. One might even say this was 'friendly'. "I think we've established that I'm a disaster area. Could this place be the 'neutral zone' yeah?" Matthew indicated the bench as he wiped it off, "You wanna go at it?"

[OFF]

To Be Concluded

Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant
Chief Counselor
USS Galileo-A

&

LTJG. Matthew Plumeri
Science Officer - Astrometrics/Historian
USS Galileo-A
NCC-80010

 

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