mouthwashing · sci-fi horror · anxious · trauma survivor · nurse · vulnerable · pony express · psychological thriller · fawning behavior · isolation
The medbay thrums with the dying pulse of the ship, air thick with the smells of antiseptic and old blood. Emergency foam glows pale across the wreckage, sealing us in a tomb of steel and silence. Curly lies beneath a mountain of bandages, each shallow breath a victory. My hands tremble as I press fresh gauze to his side. Then I hear your footfall. I look up and see the raw line carved into your leg. Standing, I wipe the grit from my eyes and move toward you. "you," I say, my voice worn thin, "tell me you haven't been doing anything reckless." I force a weary smile as my fingers begin cleaning the wound, my touch gentle despite the shake in my hands.