PHD #305: Nice
Summary: Rejn suicide watch and detox. Day 1. Nurse Sawyer, Dr. Evan and Sofia the candystriper.
Date: 28 Dec 2041 AE (back scened on 1/7)
Related Logs: To The Future
Rejn Sawyer Evandreus Sofia 
Hangar Deck - Starboard - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus
Post-Holocaust Day: #305
This Hangar Bay is filled with boxes, crates and other various supplies that are needed throughout the ship. Most have been moved to one end and lashed with tarps to keep them out of the way. The place has gone from extra ship storage on one end and the ability to house over 450 people on the other end.

Marines guard this area 24/7. One area has been tarped off to the side, that holds canvas showers and sinks. As a small improvement in the standard of living and sanitation, the Head, showers, and sinks have been hooked up to running water and sewage.

Cots still fill the area formerly occupied by the Fleet's civilians, but with Sickbay out of commission they now serve as beds for patients with minor and moderate injuries. Medical staff have taken over the place and tend to those here at all hours, aided by volunteers who perform simple caretaker tasks, bring food down from the galley for patients, or simply lend an ear to those cooped up here for the duration.
Condition Level: 2 - Danger Close

Getting one's stomach pumped is a really unpleasant experience, even more so when you're a man formerly known for his dignity and gravitas. Well, maybe not dignity and gravitas — but the fact remains that Allan Rejn once held a cabinet-level post at the Colonywide level, and the fact that he's now tucked into a spare cot somewhere in the cavernous hangar-qua-Sickbay in a set of spare scrubs must rankle just a tad. Even the blanket he's been assigned doesn't quite cover him up: his toes — protruding from his black socks — jut out from beneath the forest green coverlet, turning colder and colder as he fades in and out of sleep. His dirty clothing is arrayed on the deck below his cot, or, more precisely, what's left of it. His iconic beige blazer has been shredded by an orderly's scissors before his procedure, and it's lying in tatters above vomit-stained pants and scuffed dress shoes.

Sawyer's on watch. Has been really, without much break save to go change her own clothes or use the loo. She's in a crappy metal folding chair near the head of his cot, her most vomit proof clothes now donned seeming how some of her own dry cleaning only duds were victims in this little debacle. Knees pulled up to her chin, she has her booted feet hitched on the edge of the seat and she's holding a magazine from the Rapporteur's own collection. A pair of reading glasses sits low on her nose while she thumbs through the ages old volume.

Evandreus's schedule doesn't allow for him to stand vigil with Soybean, as much as he'd like to. Double CAP, plus a jaunt over to Elpis borrowed off of a Provider who'd rather stay home in order to see the kids, a quarter-shift of time volunteering in Medical and, eventually, sleep of some kind. He's washed up from CAP, now, everything short of taking an actual shower, and has changed into the dusky rose-hued volunteer scrubs in preparation for helping out, but has popped by a half-hour early, having conveniently skipped the mess hall in favor of coming to stand behind Soybean, resting his hands on her shoulders in a gentle, silent greeting. "Hey, hon," he whispers. "How's he doing?" And a chaste kiss landed in Sawyer's hair for good measure— a grateful gesture, and a supportive one.

"Page forty-three." A rasping, cutting whisper emerges from somewhere beneath Rejn's bunk, sufficiently distinct from his snores that it catches the others' attention. "About — " And now it's clear the man's definitely awake, for more words are forestalled by a furious series of coughs. "About Adar," he mutters when he recovers. "They quote me."

Sawyer reads: 'You can't put lipstick on a pig, and you can't spin a fake nonproliferation initiative with no independent oversight into some magical new dedication to the cause of peace like Adar's tallywhackers are trying to do.'

"About like that." Sawyer mutters, making a vague gesture towards the olive drab clad mound that is Rejn. "Only with more snoring." There's a flip of pages as she switches to the one that Allan indicated. "Huh. I didn't think they'd print a word like 'Tallywacker'. How about that." She says blandly, twisting slightly to turn her head and give a vague smile up at Evandreus.

Evandreus slips his head to the side, eyebeams askance to look to the murmuring and coughing figure on the cot while he rests his cheek on Sawyer's head. When he stands up straight again, the cuddle having been delivered in full, he pulls his lips together. "Tallywacker?" he asks, unfamiliar with whatever dialect that word might be common to. "Good morning, Rejn," he then offers, gently, from his spot just behind Sawyer, though it may bear little relationship to morning in the Civilian world.

12 hours on, 6 off. Not a lot of time for snipe-ing it up! Especially not after helping lug some stuff back. Either way, Sofia eventually arrives on hearing that Rejn is about or awake or maybe she's just sneaking by to check. Either way, she has a small candy box with her and is in her off-duty greens. "Hehe, tallywhacker," She manages to stifle the giggle as she wanders in then - oh. People. "Um. Eep. Hi."

"Boys." The word's drawn out as long as Rejn's breath holds, but it fades into silence as he licks his overly dry lips with his tongue. "Tally — hah," he confirms after another moment, shivering under the sheets. If he knows the identities of those around him, he doesn't quite show it. "Adar," he says again. "New proliferation initiative. Bullshit."

'You can't put lipstick on a pig, and you can't spin a fake nonproliferation initiative with no independent oversight into some magical new dedication to the cause of peace like Adar's tallywhackers are trying to do.'

"Boys. That's precisely what it means. Or rather what makes a boy a boy." Sawyer explains to Evan the meaning of tallywacker, then adding in a stage whisper, "PENIS." Her eyes go back to the magazine and she flips the page, finding an advertisement. "Oh, look at that. Turquoise is the 'in' color this fall." Meaning 2040 when the issue was actually published. Above the rim of her glasses, she follows Sofia's approach. "Um. Eep. Hi to you too. Behave." The last seems aimed at Rejn. Then, "No politics." Pause. "And no candy." She makes a gimme gimme motion at the Snipe to intercept.

Evandreus' head tips upward a little, lifted as if by his eyebrows, mouth opening for a moment before, "Oh," is all he says, in regards to the vocabulary lesson, though he makes a mental note to try and use it in a sentence later on. "Hello," he adds, for Sofia, before he asks, of Soybean, "No politics -or- candy?" Almost petulant. Almost. He finally steps to the side and up past Soybean's chair, coming to stand alongside Rejn's cot, proper. "I, for one, have missed hearing you lecture on politics, Rejn. You and I will have to visit the library together soon, and you can enlighten me."

"She brought me candy?" Rejn's piercing eyes flicker open. He looks strangely naked in the absence of those trademark yellow glasses he's almost never seen without. When he smiles, his face looks almost ghoulish in the hangar's dim but even lighting. "I always knew there was more to Chesty than her funbags." He tries to laugh. He stops. Because shit, that hurts. "So what's the occasion?" he manages after recovering. "Am I late to a funeral or something?"

Sofia pauses. She rubs the back of her head. Then a giggle at the stage whisper. "Um. Did I walk in at a bad time?" Sofia looks concerned as shee tries to catch up, eyebrows furrowing. "Ack, no candy? No one told me. Sorry about that," She frowns and dutifully hands it over. It's a box of jelly beans and a cuople of lollis. Likely old, but well meant. Sofia tilts her head. "I'm not much for politics anyway," She admits quietly, holding up her hands. "I was just worried and hadn't seen many of my civilian friends lately. Busier than a three legged puppy at a well." She pouts.

"Yes. Your own." Sawyer replies dryly to Rejn's funeral comment. "Until he's cleared for anything more than clear liquids: no candy. And until his body heals: no politics. He's already done a number on his stomach without adding an ulcer to the mix." Magazine is placed aside and she unfolds herself to accept the box of candy, opening up to inspect it as if expecting a bomb. "I'll keep these safe in the mean time." But not before taking a jelly bean tax from the mix.

"I saw that," rasps Rejn from the cot. Sotto voce, of course.

"We just stopped by to see how you were getting along, Rejn," Evan persists in calling the man by his surname alone. "You had us kind of worried." Though he doesn't look particularly worried, now. Bright-eyed and almost beaming, he reflects the deathly smile with a bright and reassuring one.

"Must be getting old." Rejn's quip is a feeble one. From the look on his face, he knows it, too. "Should have seen me back on the ranch. Wouldn't have recognized me then, knowing me now. I blame the — " He pauses to pick out the proper word. "Vitiating effects of bureaucracy." A rueful little chuckle and an attempt to sit up signals that he's now fully awake. "You're wondering whether this was on purpose, aren't you."

"Ooooh, I'm sorry," Sofia looks mortified now. "Now I feel like an ass," Sofia closes an eye. She does grin as the jelly bean tax is collected. "Okay, thanks. I really do feel bad about that," A pout. "I'm sure you got to wear more hats on a ranch too," She considers. There's a long pause. "I was mostly worried about you and um, my civilian pals. I feel really bad I hadn't gotten to come out more but I've been spending more time fixing stuff than not." She blushes. "It's good to see you all. I hope you're getting better or doing okay?"

"I put you in bed and walked away to get you some aspirin. When I came back five minutes later, you had washed down a bottle of those sleep aids with whatever was left in your flask. I don't need to wonder." Sawyer says simply, just stating fact as if she were preparing her notes on a news article. There is one more jelly bean snagged before she tucks the box away under her chair, so it's out of sight and out of mind. "I might not be there next time."

Evandreus was, perhaps, aiming for a more tactful approach, but Soybean's bluntness pretty much does the job of answering the question, so he just bites down on a little bit of the inside of his lower lip, mouth scrunching in an expression of meek apology, as if he'd already found out about a surprise party and were admitting to it in a silent and bashful glance of social awkwardness. "But you don't have to worry about that, now, okay? We're not mad with you." He speaks for the group, as though he had full authority to do so. "We only want to help, eh?"

"Candy, contempt, pity." Rejn's thick finger moves from Sofia to Sawyer to Evandreus like the second hand of a clock. "Yeah. Tits McGee definitely wins the golden apple. Congrats, babe, you're the fairest of them all. And I don't suppose you'd believe me if I told you I thought the pills were aspirin." Which, given his state, might not be such an implausible explanation after all, though he doesn't bother contesting the point any longer. "But to tell you the truth, guys, I've got to admit I'm still a bit confused." Color hasn't returned to his cheeks, but at least he's managed to talk out the rasp. "Because if you were me and I were you, I probably wouldn't be standing here right now."

A faint blush. "But you can't even eat it and Miss Averies is really pretty and um, I guess he is for a pilot too." Fidget. Sofia seems flattered, although her face twists at the nickname. Some things NEVER change. "Thanks though, I'm glad you like it." She rubs the back of her head. "Why are you confused? Er-" And then he answers. She looks a bit puzzled by the answer and looks to the other two. "Sorry. I'm confused now. Not that that's hard but…"

"Aspirin don't come in pretty little amber bottles with script labels on them. Just saying." Sawyer peels the glasses off her face now that she's no longer reading and props them on top of her head. "If you were me and I were you? I wouldn't have chased the white rabbit in the first place." Being labeled as having contempt doesn't seem to faze the reporter. "If I truly had contempt, I would have left you to die in your own unconscious vomitous state." In an effort to maintain her calm, she fishes out a cigarette. "You miss your wife, you miss debating government action or inaction from the safety of a podium, you miss being able to go to a cigar club and having a glass of whiskey with the boys. I could ask you 'why', but deep down we all have our laundry list of rasons that starts and ends with the Cylons. So if you want to give up? Then give up on trying to off yourself, because I will drag your ass to medical as many times as it takes." Said all as cool as a cucumber.

Evandreus looks back to Soybean with a wistful look that warms with a heartfelt, if thin, smile when she pledges her dedication to the man, then looks back down to Rejn himself, eyebrows edging up his forehead in a humorous tic. "And medical is kind of swamped under as-is. Maybe… after this… you could give them a little break, and see how it goes for a little while," half-jestful, after his usual fashion, but warm-hearted, no less, one hand coming to rest just at Rejn's knee.

It takes a lot to silence Allan Rejn. Even news of the Holocaust didn't get him to shut up — not even when the casualty figures arrived. And yet silence is precisely what ensues after the man hears and internalizes the reporter's little speech. He wiggles his toes in an attempt to get them back under the blanket; he draws his knees — and Evan's hand with it — closer to his belly to get just a little bit more warmth; he closes his dry eyes because it hurts to look at things for more than a few seconds at a time.

And from this curiously childlike state he stirs only a full minute after he first falls still, smiling a secret little smile. "It was nice," he murmurs, "wasn't it."

Sofia is quiet too, though it's not hard to get her to shut up. Her eyes are wide at Sawyer's words. She nods, smiling after awhile too. "Yeah… they're really right," She takes a deep breath. She tilts her head at his last statement, though the snipe is baffled faintly, but smiling. Why not? She simply accepts it.

Sawyer slips from the chair, if only to take a few steps away so she can light up her cigarette at a respectful distance. "Being around you for an extended period of time where you didn't insult anyone? Yeah, it was bliss. Too bad you were unconscious." It's a vague attempt at a humor, considering the tension of the moment.

Evandreus pats the knee, once, gently, and gives it a little squeeze before he draws a step closer to the foot of the cot, assiduously and with a tender care tucking the blanket around chilly feet. He doesn't endeavor to guess what Rejn's talking about, giving the joking business over to Soybean for the moment while he waxes fussy and maternal, making sure the blanket is properly arranged from toes to torso and then looking to the man's eyes, one brow lifted in a silent invitation to expound upon the topic that's got him smiling.

"I meant Libran," says Rejn, head turned into his pillow to get rid of the throbbing ache near his temples that suddenly threatens to overwhelm him. He inhales sharply through his teeth as he tries and fails to fight it off, but his desire to clarify compels him to speak on. "Mary. The job. All of it. It was nice," he repeats, pausing as if the taste the words in his mouth. "But — well — 'Our repentance is not so much regret for the ill we have done as fear of the ill that may happen to us in consequence,' I think is how it goes."

And we're all still paying our dues.

"Yet be that as it may, what I mean to say is — " Rejn swallows a lump in his throat he didn't realize was there. 'Sorry' is the word he intended to pronounce. "G'night," is the word he says, voice fading out once more.

"Good night," Sofia murmurs and smiles. She seems relieved. "I'm glad you guys were here, you have ways with words I can only be jealous of." She really seems pleased. "I didn't know you liked jelly beans either," She admits quietly to Sawyer. "I'm glad to see you both," Then quietly she looks between the two and ponders. "I should go be quiet now." Beam.

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