Dirges In The Dark by SecondGuess

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The next few days showed a marked improvement in Danziger’s condition. Though he was still in a great deal of pain, his fever had receded to a slightly elevated temperature that Julia felt confident was the result of his body‘s increased white blood cell production, and not the presence of an infection. True had taken to laying her bed roll on the ground along side him most nights, and she had been voracious in her desire to understand every single piece of equipment and procedure Julia employed.

In fact, she’d actually ‘assisted,’ against the wishes of her vehemently opposed father, during Julia’s final surgical attempt at recovering any additional motor activity in his irrevocably damaged left leg. True’s calm demeanor and sense of pride that she’d finally in some way helped her father on a physical level was more than worth the tongue lashing she’d received by a groggy Danziger when he realized his edict been disregarded..

To say he was lucky to be progressing so well was a gross understatement, the doctor mused as she sat with her friends in the Mess Tent, absently choking down a much-loathed Spirolina bar. In her days in Residency on the Council Med-Deck she’s seen men with far less devastating injuries quickly succumb to fatal infections even in the sterile atmosphere. More often than not, they never even made it off the operating table.

Now that a bit of distance had been established from the crisis, it seemed that Eden Advance had begun to take for granted just how remarkable John’s survival actually was. Perhaps it was the long months they’d already weathered, vexed by the elements but always comforted by the knowledge that when the going got tough, Danziger would always manage to fix what was broken, find what was lost and to push any and all ‘shove’ the group might come across.

Now that he’d presumably weathered the worst of it, it seemed that the entirety of camp we’re just sitting around, waiting for him to leap from his bed with a clean bill of health. They seemed to think nothing of the fact that Devon Adair herself had decided against moving John for an additional week, despite her haste to get to New Pacifica. While the majority of her cohorts weren’t exactly privy to the details of their friend’s injuries, Julia would have thought that at least one of them would have figured it out by now.

Danziger wasn’t ever going to walk again.

She’d done her best to repair the damage, but the crimson labyrinth of arteries and veins mapping his left leg had been damaged beyond recognition, never mind repairs. His right leg had been spared some of the vehicle’s weight, and while she’d been able to reinstate blood flow enough to recover most of the feeling in that foot, there had been significant muscle loss. And then there were the endless ivory shards of splintered bone, teeming in the muscles on his left side like beached schools of fish. His pelvis had been much easier to align and set, but due to her lack of specialized drug compounds and the equipment she needed to make them work, Julia had found herself reluctant to even consider administering a bone-healer vaccine. There was simply no means at her disposal to target a specific area for fusion, and it was out of the question to risk any treatment that could further damage his legs.

More surprising than the groups lack of concern over the future of their journey to New Pacifica with only the limited skills of their chief of operations, was Danziger’s own lack of interest in his prognosis. Now that it was clear that neither leg would need to be amputated, he’d been doing his best to ignore his predicament all together. Julia would normally prefer that from a patient; would rather that he concentrate his efforts on resting and keeping up his strength rather than worrying about the future, but knowing John as well as she did, this curious apathy troubled her.

He seemed like he was in good enough spirits, he spent a great deal of time sleeping, which was to be expected, but when he was comfortable enough to have visitors he would do his best to joke with his friends or play games with the kids. But while the others seemed content to take his condition at face value, Julia had learned over the long days and nights spent at his side exactly when he was pulling the wool over their eyes. John Danziger was many things, but an actor was not one of them, and she’d learned to recognize the tell-tale signs pretty early on: the slow chuckle response to one of Uly’s tall tales when he didn’t quite trust his voice to mask the pain; the scrunched brow as he feigned concentration regarding Cameron‘s plans to modify the solar converter when he could hardly keep his eyes open.

Finishing her breakfast, hoping that True’s cajoling had gotten at least a few bites of something into her father’s belly, Julia stood to go check on her patient when the little girl stomped into the tent, slamming the untouched meal of mashed Spirolina and fruit on the table in front of her.

“He’s acting funny.” She declared, plopping onto the bench and resting her chin in her hand, elbows on the table. Watching the girl poking at the olive green goo in the bowl, Julia tried for levity.

“Is he acting funny as in ‘ha ha?’ Or funny as in strange?” She inquired.

“Funny as in ‘Grouchy Bastard.’” True informed her belligerently. She sighed, running her small hand through her hair, and unconscious habit she’d picked up from her father. “He won’t even try it! He says he’s not shankin’ hungry and if me you and Adair don’t stop trying to shovel stuff down his throat he’s gonna start crawling to New Pacifica just to get away from us. And I could hardly get him to open his eyes and look at me. He’s acting funny.”

Julia had found pretty early in Danziger’s recovery that it was nearly impossible to explain the pathology of pain to an eleven year old. He wasn’t dead, so True wanted him well, and she couldn’t seem to grasp the delicate balance of the situation. Her Dad would have days when he felt like a million credits, but then there would be days when he was tired and cranky and sore. Julia had tried her best to help True understand that she shouldn’t take it personally.

A blessing in disguise, the real go-between in this precarious dance between father and daughter seemed to by Uly. Even at his tender age, the boy had already found himself on both sides of the equation. He seemed to know when to drag True out to play and let John rest, or when to let the pair have some time alone. He even seemed aware that sometimes his mom and Mr. Danziger needed some privacy for themselves.

Now he’d gone with his mother for a much needed outing, looking for more fresh fruit, and Julia was stuck here with a sullen True and a crabby John, and there was no doubt in her mind that neither Danziger would budge an inch.

“Now True, your Dad wouldn’t want you to be using such language. Besides, maybe he just needs some more rest before he’s ready to try eating today. You’ll see, he’s just uncomfortable. He doesn’t mean to be so snippy. Why don’t I go see what’s bugging him, okay?”

“Suit yourself, I’m gonna go check on the vehicles. ‘Least I know the ‘Rail won’t squawk back.” She declared dramatically, storming out the way she came.

Making her way across camp, not for the first time feeling as though they’d been in the same spot for far too long, Julia watched Alonzo fall into step beside her.

“Someone’s cranky.” He commented lightly, and she turned to swat him.

“I am not cranky, I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Besides, there were no more seats at your table, and I don’t think I’m gonna be sitting on your lap in public just yet.” She chided, pinching his muscular bicep playfully.

“I could argue that point for sport, but I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about Danz. Just stopped in to say hello and he nearly bit my head off.”

Julia had been willing, even eager to take True’s complaints about her father with a grain of salt, but hearing the same report from Alonzo set off a twinge of concern deep in the pit of her stomach. Yesterday evening John had seemed to be in good spirits, and when she checked in on him very early that morning he’d been still sleeping soundly and all his vitals were good. Yes, he was almost due for another does of his “Junky Juice” as he’d begun to refer to the synthesized drugs, but there was no way he should be in that much pain. Besides, it wasn’t like Danziger to complain even if he was. Since he’d been more aware of his actions and in a clearer state of mind, he hadn’t so much as grumbled once. In fact, it was all she could do to tear a confession out of him when he was having a hard time.

What worried her more than the unavoidable pain was that Danziger’s hours of quiet introspection had begun to brush a bleak portrait of his uncertain future, and she had been hoping to beat him to the punch by openly and frankly having a discussion regarding his options.

He wouldn’t be trapped here like an earth pioneer forever, she planned to tell him, doing her best to rationalize in his stead. He could always return to the stations on the colony ship, fly home with his daughter and see what medical advancements the Stations had to offer. Of course, she didn’t want to dwell on the fact that the human body had it’s limitations, and by then his body would have made whatever adjustments were necessary for his shattered bones and torn muscles to heal. To reconstruct improperly fused bone and redirect muscle tissue growth would be vast undertaking, and even the best doctors on the stations couldn’t guarantee its success. More likely than not, he’d be light-years away from his friends, from the new family and the planet he’d come to think of as home and exactly where he’d left off, if not worse.

To stay on G889 would bring about it’s own set of hardships, and if it was nearly impossible for Julia herself to imagine Danziger going about his life without the strength and agility he’d built his existence upon, she couldn’t even imagine what it must be like for John. She’d hoped to have this conversation with him sooner rather than later, but it seemed like John’s accelerated curve of recovery had sped along his inevitable brush with denial as well.

That was of course, if he wasn’t just having a plain old bad day.

“I don’t think it’s anything but a case of the blues.” She feinted, leaning over to kiss her beau squarely on the lips at the entrance to the Med Tent. “Why don’t you give me a few minutes alone with him, and I’ll see what’s going on.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d be getting jealous.” The pilot teased, catching her by the waist for a deeper, more thorough kiss. Taking a moment to absorb his good spirits, Julia finally pulled away reluctantly, turning him forcibly around and swatting his cute behind to get him moving.

“Don’t flatter yourself, fly boy.” She ribbed. “And, hey! Save me a seat at lunch!” With a coy, over-the-shoulder smile, Alonzo headed off to the direction of the other Edenites.

The Med Tent was dark and cool, thanks to a portable refrigeration unit Magus and Denner had rigged to help keep Danziger comfortable during the long, sweltering days. From the entryway, it looked to Julia that Danziger was napping again, but as she made her way to the workbench to retrieve her DiaGlove she could see from the clenched jaw and too-still eyelids that it was a counterfeit slumber. He had the covers pulled up high, leaving only his head and his untethered arm free, the tubing from his line snaking it’s way under the covers loosely.

She knew from hard earned experience that he wouldn’t simply tell her what was bothering him, but she also hoped that their recent closeness would help him open up to her as his physician, if not a friend.

“I’ve been getting complaints about you all morning, big guy.” She informed him dryly, not surprised in the least when she didn’t receive a response. “You know, I realize you don’t have much of an appetite and your stomach’s upset from the drugs, but you really have to try to eat something, Danziger. You’ve lost a lot of weight, and I’m starting to get concerned.”

Still nothing.

“C’mon, John, quit playing possum.” She requested tiredly. After John Danziger, she couldn’t imagine ever complaining about a patient in the future. He would eternally be the comparison to which all others paled.

“I’m sleepin‘.” He growled, reminding her so much of True. Heredity was funny in that sense, she mused, how it seemed to work both ways. Or maybe it was simply that the Danzigers shared a deeper bond than any parent/child relationship she’d ever come across.

She moved to the foot of the bed, perusing each monitor to check that morning’s reading history of his vital signs. While the glove could do all of these tests quickly, Julia had rigged one of her data converters to constantly monitor and record his stats, and to alert her to any inconsistencies. Everything looked to be within normal parameters consistent with his injuries with the exception of his blood pressure and heart rate. Both were slightly more elevated than she would have liked. Something was upsetting him all right; he was either in pain--which was pharmaceutically impossible--or he was fuming.

“I don’t know how your parents put up with you when you were a kid, Danziger.” She quipped, pressing a series of buttons and waiting for the readout.

“They didn’t.” He responded gruffly, icily. A shocking answer, a test designed to either shame her into silence or dare her to continue. Julia was having none of his brow-beating.

“Well, I’m not sure I’m going to either.” She parried back, just as pointedly, unhappy with his white blood cell count. “What’s going on, Danziger? Talk to me.” She demanded with her infamous brand of clinical detachment. She moved to his side, typing a command into the DiaGlove’s keypad.

“Get that goddamned piece of junk away from me, Julia!” He snapped, his eyes suddenly open and alert, brimming with distress. Julia’s hand stopped short, startled by his fierce demeanor. She counted slowly to three in her mind, conscious of the paradigm shift from anger to rising concern in her analytical survey of them man lying before her.

Something was definitely not right.

“Danziger, I’m your doctor and I’m going to examine you.” She informed him quietly, though she made no move to employ the glove.

“Can’t a guy get some peace and quiet for five shankin’ minutes? I just want everyone to leave me alone.” He moaned, a genuine whine. She hadn’t heard that tone in his voice since the day of his accident, when she’d been unable to find the right formula to ease his pain.

“John, you scared True this morning, and you’re scaring me right now.” The quiet confession caused a flinch in his otherwise expressionless demeanor. “Now I want to help you feel better, but you have to tell me what’s going on and you have to let me scan you.”

“Later, please.” He begged, tiredly raising his forearm to cover his eyes, as though if he concentrated hard enough he could make her disappear. Julia had to smile a bit, having seen this behavior from Uly when he’d been feeling bad, back when they’d first crash-landed all those months ago. The man was a mystery, but she was going to scan him whether he liked it or not, and she didn’t see how he could realistically put up much of a fight. Danziger’s caustic words had no effect on her, and she knew as sure as she drew breath he would never lay a finger on her. Her gaze fell to his large hand, an instrument capable of such brute force and equal amounts of tenderness, and she was startled by what she found.

His fingertips were stained with blood.

There wasn’t much, as though he’d tried his best to wipe it away, but it was there plain as day, caked under his fingernails, smudged into the groves of his fingertips. Instantly alarmed, she knelt by his head quickly.

“John, why is there blood on your hand?” She asked, hoping the jagged panic of her jackrabbit pulse did not translate into her voice.

“There’s not.” He mumbled, even as his body went rigid.

Ignoring him, she gently took his arm, moving it away from his face. He attempted to jerk it away, but he was in no condition to put up much of a fight.

“What happened, Danziger? Answer me right now.” She demanded as she studied the garnet colored smears quickly. It was dry, had been for at least a few hours, but there was no mistaking it hadn’t been there yesterday. There was no sign of even a single scratch on his hand that could account for such residue.

“I’m fine, Julia, really. I promise.” He consoled, a tinge of compunction in his tone. Julia began quickly typing in the code for a Blood/Ox scan, wondering if the remorse in his voice was from guilt over his behavior or dismay at being caught.

“You’re not fine.” She countered simply, concentrating only on her scans. She didn’t like what she saw.

“Doc, honestly, there’s nothin’ wr--”

“Damnit, Danziger, cut the crap!” She interjected angrily, standing quickly to retrieve a readily mixed bag of plasma from a cooler by her work station. “Your white blood cell count is too low, your temperature’s up and my Nerve-Receptor scan is showing increased hyperalgesia.”

“In English?” He asked, bashfully, eyes squinted shut against the oncoming storm.

“You’re in pain, John! A lot of pain! So why won’t you just tell me what happening so I can treat you and not waste everyone’s time playing these guessing games!” She scolded, attaching the plasma bag to the vacant catheter above his head and angry tugging down the blankets to expose his attached arm.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“John, what did you do?” She asked gravely, staring at the sight before her. The Dermiport had been roughly removed from his arm, leaving a ragged wound that was rapidly bruising as blood pooled beneath the surface of his skin. It was roughly bandaged with a scrap of material identical to the coarse linen he was currently lying on, and each of the thin plastic tubes had been shoddily tied off at the end, leaving tiny shimmering trails of amber liquid on the iridescent surface of the solar flannel.

“Julia, it’s not what you think! I’m not goin’ crazy--” He started, tugging his arm away when she began quickly removing his make-shift tourniquet.

“It is crazy, John! My god, do you have any idea what you could have done? You could be comatose right now, you could have gone into cardiac arrest--”

“I’m okay, Doc, I can handle the pain--”

“This isn’t about pain, John!” She shouted angrily, disinfecting the area and promptly tugging at his arm to get a clear shot at one of his basilic veins. “This is about infection and fever, dehydra--”

“No, Julia please, you can’t put it back in, I’m runnin’ out of time!” He begged, pulling his arm violently away from her grasp, even as it sent a wave of pain-induced nausea through his system.

“John, please! You’re making yourself sick--these medications are what’s keeping you alive, you’re not thinking clearly.“ She pleaded.

The last thing Julia wanted to do was to sedate him, it could dangerously compromise his blood-oxygen level, but it was obvious that she’s grossly over-estimated Danziger’s emotional well-being. She had to find Alonzo or Walman, anyone who was strong enough to keep Danziger still while she started a new line and got his vital signs under control. She just didn’t understand how something like this could have happened! He hadn’t been alone for more than a few minutes that morning- how long had he been planning this?

“I am thinkin’ clearly, Julia, I’m the only one in this whole shankin’ camp who is! It’s been almost too weeks now, we’re fallin’ too far behind schedule. Besides, I’ve only got a limited time window.” He was frantic now, willing her to understand his nonsensical words as he stiffly tried to hide his right arm under the bulk of his body, shivering at the pain each movement brought.

Unwilling to hurt him further, the doctor let out a growl of frustration stood quickly to call out of the mouth of the tent.

“Alonzo! Cameron! Could someone strong please give me a hand here?” She requested nonchalantly, hurrying back to Danziger’s cot, where he was clutching on to his own arm for dear life and murmuring anxiously, eyes closed against the pain.

“No, we don’t need them, you can’t do this to me Julia, I can’t live like this!” He fought off her feather-light attempt at coaxing his arm away from his side. Deciding against distressing him further, Julia knelt beside him carefully and instead placed a soothing hand on his forehead.

“Why don’t you relax and tell me what you’re talking about, okay?” She asked, her voice growing thick with sorrow at the sight of her friend in such turmoil. Sensing a momentary victory, Danziger collapsed backward in a huff, panting wildly. “The medicine is what’s making you better, Danziger. You won’t have this IV forever, but right now it’s very important that you--”

“I need that vaccine, Julia.” He demanded weakly, still cradling the arm in jeopardy.

“What’s up?” Walman stuck his head in the flap suddenly, alarmed by the sight that awaited him. Julia turned quickly and waved him away.

“Give us a minute, Walman, will you?” She informed more than asked. Knowing a precarious situation when he saw one, the brawny crew member was outside in a flash. Thankfully his instincts kept him just outside, ready to return at the slightest word.

“Now try and calm down, Danziger, and tell me what vaccine--”

“The bone healer vaccine, Julia, quit talkin’ to me like I’m twelve.” He berated in a quiet rush. “I read the damn medical waivers along with everyone else, hell, I even spent my last two paychecks on a dose for True just in case.” He was winding down now, his breaths getting deeper and more regular. “You have to administer the vaccine in advance because there’s only a small time window before the fracture starts to set on its…ah, shit! Shankin’ legs!” He groaned, tossing his head back listlessly.

“Oh, Danziger…you should have told me, we have to talk about this.” Julia spoke tenderly, the mechanic’s rash behavior suddenly making too much sense.

In order to correctly absorb the bone healer into one’s system the patient in question was required to have a completely clear Tox Screen. Back on the Stations, Medics usually even recommended that anyone scheduled to receive the vaccine should abstain from even the most mild pain blocks, as well as caffienated foods and beverages for maximum effect. John had been leery of her reluctance to discuss his prognosis and so he had taken matters into his own hands. She had completely underestimated him once again.

Placing one of her hands gently on his battered arm, he flinched, ready to struggle away. “Shhh, I won’t do anything just yet. Let me clean you up.” She coaxed, and sensing she would be true to her word he allowed her to ease his arm gently into her lap. “I’m so sorry, John. This whole thing is my fault. I know I haven’t exactly been forthcoming with your options, but I thought it was best to wait until you were more comfortable.”

“There’s no time to discuss this, Julia. As soon as my system’s clear I want that vaccine. My body, my decision.” He demanded, resigning himself to discomfort he’d brought upon himself.

“John, I…you have to realize that the Tox screen is the least of our worries. There’s nothing I would like more than to synthesize you a vaccine, but it’s just too dangerous, Danziger. I’ve realigned the pieces of bone that weren’t too damaged, but I still had to remove a great deal of tibia in both legs, and your muscles are- shin bone-” She backtracked slightly at his look of frustration. “- And your muscles are still riddled with shards and splinters. I’m going to have to go in and remove later, once the muscle tissue has begun to heal a bit more.”

“Yeah, but the pelvic fractures aren’t so severe, right?“ He asked, calling her bluff. “Just give me somethin’ for that, at least I’ll get some mobility back, so I can--”

“Danziger, it could kill you.” She came clean, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder until he met her eyes. “There’s a good chance that the gaps in your bone structure would be at least partially filled in by the healing compound, but the injury is so extensive. John, one millimeter off and you could end up with even more damage, permanent damage worse than you‘re currently facing. Any one, one of those practically microscopic shards of bone could shift in place cause catastrophic internal bleeding in seconds.”

Grinding his teeth against the agony, he grunted: “So we take ‘em out first.”

“That’s impossible, Danziger, even when I do go back in to clear up the worst of them I’ll still be leaving dozens of tiny shards behind.”

“I don’t care, Doc, it’s worth the chance.” He insisted, but his voice had softened, as though she hadn’t changed his mind but had succeeded only in making him more terrified than he already was.. “Even if it doesn’t work, it’s still worth the possibility that I might be able to…even if it’s not…Julia, I can’t spend the rest of my life in the damn ATV or an ElectroGlide Chair! How can I protect True like that? How can I get us safely to New Pacifica?” He sighed, letting out the smallest of whimpers as his throat worked to swallow a moan. “How am I supposed to look Adair in the eye knowing all she can see is a cripple Drone? I promised her I’d always look after her kid.” He professed softly. “I promised myself I’d always look after her.”

Julia’s life had been built on absolutes. She was programmed to err on the side of caution, and whenever the odds were not in her favor she’d been steadfastly taught it was wiser not to gamble at all. Looking in John’s glassy eyes, however, she realized that Danziger was right. At the end of the day, he had a right to decide what medical procedures he chose to receive. But she didn’t have to make the decision any easier for him, and she refused to let him make it alone.

“Danziger, I want you to listen to me for a minute. I’m going to give you a small dose of your ‘Junky Juice’ with my Hypogun, okay? It’s just a one shot deal to take the edge off and help bring down your heart rate, cause I’m not going to even entertain this notion of a bone healer vaccine when you’re lying there trying to give yourself an aneurysm.”

She didn’t get a response, not a quip, not a refusal. There was just the slow steady hiss of John’s breath being forced through clenched teeth in small staccato pulses, and she knew his pain must be tremendous. With a weary sigh, she rubbed her hand gently over his chest, quickly retrieving the loaded instrument.

“This was really stupid, Danziger.” She reminded him once again, placing the gun against his jugular and quickly pulling the trigger.

“Yup.” He whimpered in agreement, bringing a smirk to Julia’s face.

“You know, you can talk to me about anything, John. As you’re doctor I’m sworn to secrecy and as your friend I will personally smack you senseless the next time you decide to perform your own medical procedure.”

The medication had begun to radiate throughout John’s body, in reality a much bigger does than Julia had made it out to be. Danziger’s locked muscles slowly liquefying into a tranquil puddle, he cracked open an eyelid and took the doctor’s hand in his own.

“Julia…’m sorry.” He slurred, his angry-ocean eyes swirling with regret and guilt.

“Shhhh, Don’t be, Danziger.” She assured him, loading up the gun again with an Immuno-boost, patiently waiting for him to nod off so she could administer it without hysterics.

“Please don’t put it back…please.” He mumbled, his eyelids fighting against gravity.

She gently rubbed the spot where he’d so roughly pulled the device from his forearm, tracing comforting circles as a way to reassure him he had her word.

“I’m going to call Devon and tell her that there’s something we need to discuss, all of us, you, Devon, True and myself. If you’re going to risk this course of action then I think it’s important that they understand the risks involved.”

Danziger’s brow furrowed and he stirred, as if trying to remember how his tongue worked.

“Disagree and you’ll have to find yourself another physician, John.” She reminded him cheerfully yet menacingly, and he snickered breathily.

“Doc, tell True I didn’t mean to…be a grouchy bastard.” he murmured thinly, wiggling his fingers in her grasp experimentally. Julia had to laugh, both at his spot-on diagnosis and at the palpable relaxation he was exuding.

“Oh, she’s got your number, Danziger. I don’t have to tell her twice.” She assured him.

“Didn’ wan’er ta see.” He garbled, and Julia shushed him again, swinging her gear eyepiece into place to hail Devon even as her ever-active DiaGlove registered Danziger’s neurotransmitter activity was conducive to sleep.

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