(no subject)

[mr_gaeta]

"Alone she sleeps in the shirt of man
With my three wishes clutched in her hand..."

Simon finally hooked him up to a morpha -- morphine, whatever it's called here -- drip once the nerve block wore off and the supposedly unidentifiable opioid had left his system. Gaeta's half-drowsing, eyes closed in a vain attempt to sleep outright; the pain's still too great, though, and the exhaustion more prominent.

And if he sleeps, that means he can't do the only thing that's worked so far.

"The first that she be spared the pain
That comes from a dark and laughing rain..."

The words are a little roughened with hoarseness, a touch slurred by morpha -- but his voice still rings clear through the infirmary.



[ooc: for continuity's sake, all threads now take place before Boyd's and Simon's.]

Comments

[simon_doctor]

Pause.

Carefully: "I think it would probably be better for you to take it in a more refined form. Smoke does spread, you know, and we wouldn't want to accidentally affect any other patients."

[mr_gaeta]

"Oh," he murmurs. The good humor fades to disappointment as Gaeta casts a faintly longing look at the cigarette. Resigned: "Yeah, you're right. Okay. I didn't think about that, I'm sorry."

[simon_doctor]

"It's all right," he says gently. "And if you take it as a pill or an injection, it should still have the same effect."

[mr_gaeta]

That's a huge relief to hear. Gaeta relaxes, the disappointment vanishing in an instant.

"Good," he says. "It's...really been helping. It's nice."

[simon_doctor]

"I'm glad to hear that."

A beat.

"Do you need anything else, as long as I'm here? Are you feeling hungry at all? Thirsty?"

[mr_gaeta]

"Thirsty," he says immediately, then pauses to take stock of the rest of himself. It's a little difficult; the sound of the heart monitor feels like it's rippling all the way down his body again, distracting him from...well, quite a lot. "A little hungry? Not too much, though."

(Still, that small slice of appetite is more than he's had in days.)

[simon_doctor]

At the first word, he's turned away to get a plastic cup and a straw, and is filling the cup at the sink by the time Gaeta's finished speaking.

"I'll see if I can get you something small," he offers.

[mr_gaeta]

Simon, you are the greatest doctor in the world.

Gaeta beams as he accepts the water; his hands barely shake at all now. "Thank you," he says. "I really appreciate it. I appreciate everything you're doing."

He appreciates you, Dr. Tam. As a person. As a human being.

[simon_doctor]

"I'm glad to be of help," he says, returning the smile.

(And while it's of very minor importance ... a part of him is hoping quietly that Gaeta won't say anything that he'll feel compelled to apologize for later.)

[mr_gaeta]

Fortunately, as low as Gaeta's brain-to-mouth filter might be right now, his thoughts seem to have steered away from anything truly embarrassing since the last time he and Simon spoke.

He takes a long sip of water. Absently, with his other hand, he starts to knead his right thigh.

[simon_doctor]

Simon notes it, but doesn't comment.

He really needs to speak to this man's primary physician. Maybe he'll ask Gaeta about whether that could be arranged. Somehow.