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10:20 PM
[When she wakes....no. That is incorrect. She was never asleep. It all rushes in with consciousness, one fell swoop of being aware and remembering and the sudden surge makes her want to scream. Her outer eyelids peel back, and a moment later so do her inner ones. She clenches her jaw shut tight, and for a moment she wishes she were on Enterprise. At least waking up in this kind of agony would make sense in his sickbay.
But she knows everything. Captain Rogers' body. His shield. Its weight on her arm and his friend's knife finding her heart. How did he know? Her thoughts immediately head in that direction, he must have known, it was perfectly aimed to put down a Vulcan. She was wrong to think the Terran Empire had no sway here, it doesn't matter if they come from worlds with slavery or without, because in the end they're all Human and that is little better than monster.
She doesn't scream. She learned long ago not to give anyone the satisfaction of her pain. But she does start to push herself up to get a dizzying view of the infirmary, ignoring the way it spins and twists in her vision. She'll stumble out of here if she has to.]
[Spam for Dean, forward dated]
[By all rights, she should still be in the infirmary. She should, at the very least, continue resting in her quarters. But the idea of sitting in there for hours, staring at the steel of her ceiling, laying in her blue sheeted bed, surrounded by the largely undecorated, plain, Human Starfleet issue room makes her want to scream more than the pain ever did. So she reports for duty on the dinner shift more than a couple days early. Her skin prickles, her anger hovers in the air around her. It makes her feel less brittle. It makes her feel strong.
All thoughts of suppressing her emotion are slipping away. Around any corner may be another Sergeant Barnes. Around any corner may be whoever killed Captain Rogers. May be another Human. But why give way to fear or paranoia when she can slip into rage like a second skin?
(Fear is always the root. Surak said, Dakh pthak. Nam-tor ri ret na'fan-kitok fa tu dakh pthak. Cast out fear. There is no room for anything else until you cast out fear. But fear so easily turns to other things, and she follows those threads without a single thought for Surak's teachings. All they ever did was teach Vulcans to lay down and die.)
She cuts onions without her eyes reddening or tearing, inner eyelids safely shut. She slams the knife down too hard, clenches her fingers around it tight enough that green blood pools to her finger tips, leaves her knuckles white. It's so different from her usual state of being, and only so much of it can be attributed to the death toll's lingering effects.]