[Part I: Bernadette's Vigil. Prose Written by Bernadette.] It's been three days since Kevlan and Tamber's return to Ballybran. Kevlan is still awfully thin...although his skin seems to have taken on a more healthy appearance--at least it's not transparent, anymore. But he still isn't talking much. When he does speak, he stammers so badly it's hard to understand him. And he's still clinging to Bernadette as if he doesn't really believe she's real. Tamber and Jerrik visit often...the only two people Berni will really let into their suite. She's turned away countless other 'acquaintances' and a good number of medics. He's not really up to that sort of company yet. Only those medics specifically cleared by Guildmaster Maxwell, and one visit by a solemnly shocked Alexandra Behrens, have broken the quietness and solitude of the quarters. Glory! She's so tired. Her body won't let her get away with her little catnaps for much longer, but she doesn't want to sleep so deeply that she misses Kevlan's waking moments. She needs to take care of him...put his needs before her own, and that's exactly what she's going to do. "My dear girl, how long has it been since you've had some real sleep?" This question was recently posed to her by Tamber. She shrugged in response, muttering "I've slept some." But he wasn't satisfied. "Dear Bernadette, you can't help him very much if you don't take care of yourself! You must get some sleep," and he had looked her over from head to toe, "And put some food in your own belly, as well as Kevlan's. You're getting thin again." She remembers nodding off-handedly at the sorter, who'd given her a skeptical glance, but said no more on the subject. She's been eating. She doesn't know why he'd tell her to...On one of her brief jaunts to the bathing room while Kevlan sleeps, she looks at herself in the mirror. Well, okay. She _is_ looking a little thin...but she's been eating! She sighs and puts her fingers to the dark smudges beneath her eyes, making them look hollow and dark. She frowns. Her hair is disheveled, as if she hasn't paid it any attention in days...it's clean, but it's a series of snarls and tangles. Her frown deepens. She looks horrible. Peeking out into the bedroom to check on Kevlan, she sees he's still sleeping and takes a few minutes to straighten her appearance. She looks at herself critically in the mirror once more. Well, her hair is neat, but she still looks haggard. She shrugs and pads back out into the bedroom to keep vigil over her love. "B-Berni!" Kevlan's panicked cry jerks her awake from the light doze she'd fallen into. "I'm here!" she replies, instantly awake and on her feet. Kevlan's awake, alright, but his eyes seem vacant still, although at the same time, a little more "alive" than they have been. He clutches at her waist as she nears the bed, pressing his face into her stomach. "Don' leave me 'lone ag'in..." The words have become a chant he uses half a dozen times each day...and they make her wince each time. She strokes his hair now and mumurs "I'm not going anywhere, love..." then follows that with a suggestion. "How about some nice soup? And a soak in the radiant bath?" She's put a note of cheerfulness in her voice. She gets the same response she has everyday when she poses these questions: a flat, passive "O-O-Okay, B-Berni." She really wishes he'd start talking a little more. But she understands that he's suffered through quite an ordeal and is ready to wait and be patient while he recovers. She helps him into the bathing room and draws the bath for him, leaving him sitting wide-eyed and panicked-looking on the ledge of the tub while she runs to their catering unit to dial him up some broth. After seeing him fed and safely deposited into the radiant fluid, the harness safely around his shoulders, she kneels on the outside of the bath, one arm draped along the edge of the tub, her hand tightly gripped in Kevlan's. Shards, she's tired. She talks quietly to Kevlan while he soaks, talking about nothing of importance, but keeping the chatter up to help reinforce the fact that Kevlan is not alone. His eyes droop and she watches him fall asleep, still clinging to her hand. 'My poor Kevlan,' she thinks to herself, not for the first time since his return. Briefly, her mind recalls the last time she'd seen him... "You can't come with me, Kevlan! You'll die if I stay!" "I'll die if you leave!" She quickly shuts those thoughts away, but not before the horror touches her heart over how close he came to living up to that statement. She rests her forehead on her extended arm, and shuts her eyes against the memories...just for a moment. She doesn't hear the door chime. Nor does Kevlan. Nor does she hear Tamber speaking from the adjoining room. "Kevlan? Bernadette?" Tamber and Jerrik peek their heads into the bathing room, blink a bit in astonishment, then enter the room entirely. They exchange looks, both shaking their heads. "Would you look at that?" Jerrik asks Tamber quietly. "I see it," replies Tamber smoothly. Kevlan sleeps soundly in the radiant bath, steam still rising from the fluid around he's immersed in, one hand joined with Bernadette's, who is still kneeling on the floor beside the tub. Her head forehead is resting on the arm outstretched to Kevlan, her other hand lying limply on the floor next to her legs. She is also asleep...and judging by her failure to answer the door chime, deeply asleep. [Part II, scene change description: Jerrik is summoned to the Hangar, as yet another incoming sled requires his attention. Tamber opts to remain behind, and keep an eye on the two exhausted Singers. Checking the radiant fluid, Tamber finds it cold, and thus hauls Kevlan as carefully out of the tank as he can manage; Kevlan rouses long enough to utter small panicked cries, which briefly waken the exhausted Bernadette as well. But Tamber nevertheless gets Kevlan into his bed - without much effort, for Kevlan for all his height is still drastically underweight. The Sorter then refills the tank, and with the same care, puts Bernadette into the hot fluid so that she, too, can have a restful soak for a while. At last, filing a mental note to request a larger tub from Catering for Kevlan and Berni's suite, Tamber ventures out into the main part of the suite again, to quietly attend to business over the terminal. As he studies the current market values, he is alerted by a chime at the door... ] You hear a soft chime and an electronic voice announces that Michael is in White Quadrant and is knocking on the door to this suite. To White Quadrant, Tamber calls tiredly, "Yes?" >From White Quadrant, Michael calls out "It's Michael Turlough. May I come in?". To White Quadrant, Tamber calls out, "Ah... alright. Hold on...". You paged Michael with ''. Michael steps in from the hall. Michael has arrived. Michael looks at you for a moment. Tamber ushers you in, murmuring, "Softly... Kevlan sleeps." Kevlan lies curled up, barely visible under a thick down quilt in his bed. Michael nods, expressionless. "How is he?" Tamber himself looks rather tired, as he glances to the prone form. "He knows that he is home, at least when he is most aware. Sadly, that comes and goes." The Sorter looks more closely at you, and adds, almost smiling, "I am pleased that you have come." Michael allows himself a controlled half-smile. "It's a luxury for me. Generally when my friends have been tortured, there's soldiers waiting for me if I try to visit them." Tamber's green eyes don't darken, for they already are a darker, graver shade than usual. He simply nods quietly, and offers you one of the chairs. "Can I dial you up something? The Guildmaster has issued an order that anything dialed from this suite's caterer will be free of charge, for the time being - I fear Galahad needs all the food he can get." Michael nods distractedly, sitting. "Careful with it. If he's been starved too long there's much that willnae be good for him," he says automatically, not really noticing his own words. His accent is stronger than usual. Tamber nods quietly. "The medics, when they have not been delivering their insistence that he should be quartered with them, have prescribed a suitably" - his fine-lined nose wrinkles - "bland diet for him." Kevlan rolls over under the quilt, looking a lot smaller than he should as his face turns towards those out in the room. Michael might have chuckled at the characterization another time. There is something harder about him now than there once was. He simply nods, and looks over as the patient moves. Tamber automatically turns, moves, but settles again as Kevlan doesn't do more than make a tiny whimpering noise before subsiding again. Michael asks quietly, "What happened? Ruth didnae get much." Tamber then heaves a soundless sigh, wearing the expression of a man mentally flagellating himself. Tamber, still studying the sleeping Singer's too-thin face, says very quietly, "What can I say? He was taken... three or four days before the Passover began. Out from the very quarters the Hesperians had assigned us - I expect they drugged our food that evening, for I knew nothing until I awoke several hours later, to find him gone." Michael says "Who?" in a clipped, expressionless voice. Tamber shoves a hand through red hair which is, for once, not impeccably groomed. "I know nothing of them save that they did not wish the black crystal installation to proceed - and that they did _this_ to my friend." He scowls. Tamber adds grimly, "I never saw them. I think that Kevlan did - but there is so much bilge in his system that it is a wonder he is as coherent as he is." Michael says "What precisely *did* they do to him?" Tamber, still scowling, recites what is quite likely memorized straight off a medical chart: "The patient is suffering from extreme malnutrition, aggravated by his symbiont's Passover demands. He shows heavy traces of both sedatives and hallucinogenic drugs in his system, and demonstrates symptoms of both physical and mental abuse... " Tamber then adds, his voice uncharacteristically rough, "Or so says his current chart. What little I have gotten from Kevlan himself suggests they cared very little for the well-being of their captive. He's had nightmares every night since he was returned." Michael nods almost before the recitation is finished, as though none of this were unexpected or unusual. "Hallucinogens can be ignored, but he wouldnae know how. I take it Ruth's handling the residual drug effects; she called home for permission to use our formulae." Tamber smiles wearily. "Ruth and Nathan have both been splendid, thus far. I could not have desired finer medical attention for him. But you are correct; Kevlan has no experience with such things." His smile fades. "I fear that all this may well have shattered him. When he is awake, he cannot bear to be alone, and clings to Bernadette as though she were a favorite toy." Michael shrugs. "No way to tell for the present. I've seen trained men shattered by less and children come back from worse. Generally mental symptoms willnae begin to fade until after the physical has been cleared up, so anything he does now isnae particularly indicative." Tamber quirks a dark eyebrow, studying Michael's face, hearing the tones of one who seems to know his business. Slowly, he nods. "Jerrik, Bernadette, and I have been keeping him constant company... tell me, what else might you recommend?" Michael says dryly, "It'd be easier if I could see him when he were awake. Ruth can handle the physical trauma better than I can -- she's dealt with torture subjects plenty -- and it's hard to get a sense for the mental damage second-hand." Tamber considers this, and says reluctantly, "I will wake him, if you wish... I trust you to handle this carefully." Michael says "Is he getting enough sleep to spare it physically?" Tamber smiles thinly. "He has done little except sleep and eat and cling to Bernadette, in the last three days... I will make sure he rests properly, do not fear." Michael moves near-silently to the bedside. "Let me. I want to see how he handles it." Tamber frowns a little, clearly not liking that idea... but he does trust Michael. He allows the other Singer to approach, but remains very nearby. Michael touches Kevlan's shoulder gently, saying the instant the man moves at all, "You're safe, Kevlan. Don't be frightened, you're safe." His voice is soft but carries the absolute assurance that children and animals reflexively understand as truth. Kevlan comes awake startledly, uttering a hoarse cry, as he looks frantically around. Kevlan whimpers, fumbling at the sheets, "Be-Berni? W-w-w-w-where's Berni....?" Michael repeats firmly, "You're safe. Berni's safe, she's nearby, and she'll be here soon. Don't be frightened. It's Michael -- you know me. Can you look at me? " Tamber settles down on the edge of the bed, near Michael, letting Kevlan see him, putting in gently, "Bernadette is soaking, dear boy, in the very next room." Kevlan focuses on Tamber and nods slowly, plaintively. He slides back down under the quilt, looking rather like a little boy trying to hide from monsters under his bed... but Michael's tone catches his attention. Tamber keeps a hand clasped gently on Kevlan's blanketed side, and looks searchingly between the other two men. Michael nods approvingly. "Good. Nothing will hurt you. I'd like you to keep looking, at me or at Tamber, either one. Can you say hello to me?" Kevlan frowns a little - a brief blush crosses his face, which might have been barely noticeable if he had anything resembling his normal color. As it is, even that momentary flush is clearly visible. Kevlan's mouth works without noise for a few seconds before he finally stammers, his accent so thick as to be barely understandable, "H-h-h-h-h'lo M-M-Mach'l... " Tamber straightens a little, suddenly looking hopeful, even as Kevlan shivers, curling the blanket tightly about himself. Michael nods. "Good. I'm going to ask you a few things -- not too many. I know it's hard answering, and I know it feels bad to have it be hard answering because it's not something that should be hard, but it's all right. Will you try anyway?" His own accent has almost disappeared; he's speaking carefully. Kevlan swallows hard, and rapidly blinks, his gaze shooting to Tamber. The Sorter promptly assures him gently, "It's alright, dear boy. Talk to Michael." Kevlan starts to look down, seeming mightily ashamed of himself... Michael says firmly, "I'll not ask you to do anything you can't, Kevlan. And I'll not think the less of you for what you can or can't do. I've been as badly hurt myself; I know what it's like inside." His voice is quiet, but every word carries weight. Kevlan hesitantly looks up once more, his expression haunted. He doesn't nod, but as the other Singer speaks, he regards him forlornly, as if seeking assurance from the words. Michael looks back directly at Kevlan, and allows more than usual to show through the controlled mask of his eyes. "I *have* been hurt that badly, Kev. And recovered from it, though it took a long time and left some scars. Do you believe me?" Kevlan nods very slowly, the motion childlike. Michael says in the same firm, even tone, "Will you try to recover? You don't have to do it all at once, it can be as long as you need." The words seem to matter less than the fact of question and response, and Michael maintains eye contact deliberately. Kevlan starts looking troubled, a confused frown curling his mouth. Even as he starts to look frantically at Tamber, his friend rubs his arm soothingly, and once more assures him it's alright. For several long moments the young man seems to struggle to try to get a thought out; he blurts at last, "Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah cain't...!" Michael doesn't blink at the response. "Will you try? It doesn't matter whether you succeed or not, Kevlan. Nothing will happen if you try and it doesn't work. Will you try anyway?" Tamber frowns, but only momentarily, eyeing Michael to see how he proceeds. Kevlan clutches at the pillow under him. His blue eyes glimmer damply under his tangled bangs, as he groans, "'S'all gone... Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah cain't.... " As he mumbles, his gaze seems to turn unseeing, as if Michael's words are touching off something in his mind. Tamber murmurs, very softly, "He has not said this before." Michael's voice is just sharp enough to catch attention -- not sharp in a startling fashion, simply crisp and cutting through the tangled web of thoughts. "Kevlan. Look at me again." Kevlan trembles, but reflexively looks up. Michael nods slowly. "Good." A quick half-nod as well, meant for Tamber's attention; the reflex is a good sign. He looks around quickly to make sure there are four or five random small objects within reach of the bed, then says, "I want you to do something, Kevlan. I want you to reach out and pick something up. It doesn't matter what; whatever you want. You can." There is no room for questions; the certainty in the last is absolute. Kevlan, plainly confused, stares at Michael in anguish for a few moments, then at Tamber. He starts to whimper and slide under the blanket again, but Tamber tells him benignly, "Come on, now, Galahad." Michael says, "You can," again, without moving. He doesn't make it any easier, and he shakes his head slightly at Tamber for pushing it. Kevlan blinkblinkblinks, but at Tamber rather than Michael. His half-focused gaze wanders to some of the shelves set in the wall near the head of the bed; there are books there, one or two small holos. Tamber flicks Michael an unruffled glance in response, a bare hint of a smile suggesting that the man believes he knows what he is doing. Michael watches closely, the set of his mouth registering faint approval as he sees some degree of focus and a choice being made. Kevlan shivers visibly as he very nearly curls his entire body around the pillow. Awkwardly, he reaches out with one hand, though. His fingers shake and fumble around the shelf until he knocks a holo of a kind-eyed woman off onto the mattress. Michael watches without reaction. It's still on the mattress. It *can* be in a hand. Kevlan utters another little whimper, grabs at the object, which promptly vanishes, along with his unsteady hand, under the blanket. Michael nods, again approving the disappearance as well as the mastery. "Good. You keep it there; you've taken it for yourself, with nobody's help. You keep it with you." He doesn't bother watching to see if the words have been understood; he knows they will not be, yet. But the holo will stay there regardless since it takes another act of will to get rid of it, and the words will remain in unconscious memory for later. Tamber smiles, a little sadly; recognition flickers through his gaze as he registers which holo Kevlan chose. But he says nothing. Kevlan peers timidly over the edge of the blanket. Michael waits silently until the shaking has died down a little and Kevlan's eyes have turned toward the world again. "That's well done, Kev; I know it wasn't easy," he says gently. "I'll not ask you to do anything else for now. Rest; I'm going to talk to Tamber. Right here; he'll not leave the room." He looks up at Tamber with a quick nod and goes to take a seat across the room again. Tamber, to that, nods to Michael, and promises Kevlan, "I shall not be out of your sight, I assure you." He rises, and moves smoothly after the other Singer. Kevlan watches the two men plaintively, as he slides down under the blanket again. Michael looks over at Kevlan. "We're right over here, Kevlan; both of us." Remembering the effect of certain drugs he's faced himself, he reiterates firmly, "You're not alone. You'll not be left alone." Tamber nods his agreement, deliberately seating himself where Kevlan can keep a constant watch on him, as long as the young Singer is awake. He then looks at Michael mildly. Michael sighs, pitching his voice low enough to be out of even a Singer's enhanced hearing, from across the room. "Bad, but I've seen worse recover decently. There's choice there still, if not initiative, and if he's able to realize he ought to be able to do things more easily his mind's working a great deal better than I'd expected even if it can't communicate very well." Tamber considers this, and smiles sadly. "That is a holo of his mother; I cannot say I am surprised." He shakes his head a little, murmuring almost to himself, "It has been too long since I have had to deal with such things... " Tamber then seems to settle himself, and he returns his green-eyed regard to Michael. "I already possess the recommendations of the medics; what are yours?" Michael considers his phrasing. "At this point, I'm not so concerned about his feelings," he says slowly. "They're the lesser half of a vicious cycle, which is why I said generally that aspect doesnae start to clear up until after the rest is already nearly well. The worst of his problems are the mental blocks that keep him unable to act naturally, to think clearly, or to be independent at all, which then destroys his confidence even more." Tamber frowns quietly, listening as Michael speaks. "He clearly knows something is amiss with him... yet, he is convinced he cannot do... something." Tamber half-smiles. "And I was making such progress with him, before the Passover, with his lessons." Michael nods. "That fear's at the center of the knot. We can't touch it yet; I'm trying to unravel the sides. That means pushing him to do the things he can, though; I think more than you've been doing. Whatever he thinks he can't do will be easier to find if he begins to do other things, and it willnae be so paralyzing for him if it's isolated a bit more." Tamber nods briskly, glancing over at Kevlan; Kevlan's eyes have dropped closed, as he dozes off yet again. Tamber observes, "His symbiont has kept him sleepy, as it heals him." He then adds, "Jerrik and I certainly can do as you suggest, and I expect you are quite right. Bernadette shall have to be convinced, however. I can barely separate her from his side." Michael says flatly, "Then don't. My sister never left mine for more than a year. But get her to encourage him to move, speak, look. Stand somewhere not directly in front of him when you talk, so he has to turn his head and focus on you; ask him what he'd like to eat and make him answer; tell him things and then ask him questions about them. Hold things within his reach, but make him reach for them. The important part is to get him used to taking action again, not simply suffering passively whatever's done to him. That holds too many echoes -- even if you're kind and his captors were cruel, being the passive party holds too many echoes. He'll never recover his sense of himself till he breaks out of that mold." Bernadette shuffles out of the bathing room, rubbing at her eyes. She stops in the doorway with a mild look of surprise, as she glances between Kevlan, Tamber and Michael. "Hello, Michael," she says quietly as she walks farther into the room. Tamber looks up, lifting an eyebrow, as he sees Bernadette emerge at last from the bathing room. He smiles quietly at her, and beckons her over. Michael nods to Bernadette, not unkindly but curtly; his mind's on his business. "Berni. Hello." Kevlan lies with his face turned out towards the room, either clutching the blanket around him or something under it. His eyes are closed. Tamber says mildly, "Are you more rested, dear girl?" Bernadette frowns a little as she pads over to Tamber. "I heard a noise..." Tamber says wisely, "An experiment, my dear, which if I read our visitor correctly seems to have gone according to his intentions...?" Tamber gestures to the shelf at the head of the bed, where the holo of Kevlan's mother is now no longer occupying its accustomed space. Michael says "We woke Kevlan briefly; I wanted to talk to him. He's asleep again now." Bernadette frowns. "You woke him?" She passes Tamber and squats down by the side of the bed, gazing at Kevlan with concern as she gently brushes her fingers through his hair. Kevlan stirs a little but doesn't wake; the blankets are loose about him, for once, and he shifts onto his back. He's clutching something to his chest under the quilt. Tamber says solemnly, directly, "Michael felt that it was needed... and I did, as well." Michael looks up at Bernadette. "I've been in condition very similar to Kevlan's before, and helped to treat a dozen others who went through similar experiences. I wanted to find out how bad the damage was." Bernadette nods slightly, as she notes the bulge of whatever Kevlan's got clutched underneath the quilt and carefully lifts the covering to see what it is. Kevlan hugs the tiny holo of his mother to him, with evident determination even in his sleep. Tamber leans back in his chair, and murmurs, "Michael surpasses me in these things; he has had training." Bernadette lowers the covers again and shifts, so that she's sitting on the floor beside the bed, looking at Michael now. "How bad is he?" The question is asked hesitantly, with a bit of a tremor in her voice. Michael looks back directly, not blunting the truth. "Bad. He's in a cycle of helplessness right now and it's very hard to heal at all while that's intact. I've seen men in worse condition recover, though, with time and help." Bernadette blinks rapidly a few times, tears her gaze from Michael to look up at Tamber, then at Kevlan. She sits quietly for a few moments before asking "How can we help?" Tamber says "Michael has recommended, my dear, that we work to get Kevlan to react and respond to the world around him." Michael shakes his head. "More than that. I don't just want him reacting; I want him acting in his own right. Too much is being done for him, I think. It's keeping him helpless in practice, and so long as he is he remains helpless in his own mind and paralysed." Slowly, the words clearly falling from experience, "He's been the inert object at the hands of his tormentors. He can't be the same at your hands, no matter how kind you are." Bernadette nods in response to Tamber, still looking at Kevlan. She murmurs "Maybe he'd realize I'm real then..." Almost too quiet to be heard. Bernadette looks up at Michael, "But...he's weak right now...he can't do a lot for himself just yet..." she protests quietly. Michael nods. "Aye, I know that. I don't mean to stop you from doing for him what he needs done. But make him a participant. Even if it's only to make him look at you while you speak, to make him decide for himself what he wants to eat or reach with his own hand for what you hand him instead of having it held quite so close. It's all the difference in the world to someone who's been an object that way." Bernadette frowns, but nods slowly, as she looks at Kevlan once again. She sighs softly and gets to her feet to take a few steps away from the bed and sit in one of the beanbag chairs, still frowning. "I still can't believe anyone would do something like this to him.." she mutters, shaking her head a little. Michael shrugs. "You havenae lived where people are desperate," he mutters coldly. Bernadette glances sharply at Michael. "No, I haven't. Still doesn't make something like this right." She folds her arms across her chest, and stares moodily at the outline of the holocube on top of Kevlan's chest. "I didnae say it was right," Michael observes quietly. It's as near as he will come to am apology. Tamber watches the exchange between the two, eyes darkening, his finely lined features uncharacteristically grim. Bernadette glances at Michael again briefly, before getting to her feet again and pacing to the catering unit. She seems to be having difficulty sitting still. "Can I get anyone anything?" she offers quietly, not looking at anyone for the moment. Michael closes his eyes for a moment. "Aye. Something strong to drink; I don't care what," he says in a worn and aching voice. Tamber essays a smile, and shakes his head. "No thank you, my dear, I have eaten recently." He adds after a beat, frustratedly, "I was unable to unearth much information on Hesperia, while we searched for Kevlan. And I pride myself on my... information gathering abilities." Tamber gives a bit of a weary smirk. Bernadette dials up the strongest alcoholic beverage she can find on the catering unit's menu and hands it to Michael silently. She nods at Tamber's refusal and dials herself up a Yarran. She turns to lean against the wall beside the unit, listening to Tamber. Tamber continues, a slight scowl on his face, "All that I was able to determine was that there is a faction on Hesperia who wishes to keep that world isolated - and evidently, they have pull with the government, for they achieved their goal of preventing the installation." Michael drinks what he's handed without appearing to notice it. "Ask Colonel Bethel," he says distractedly, almost automatically. Bernadette frowns as she takes a drink from her beaker. She shifts her gaze to Michael. "Colonel Bethel?" Tamber raises his eyebrows, the question apparent enough in his inquiring glance without his having to vocalize it. Bernadette drags a beanbag along behind her until she's beside the bed again, nearest Kevlan, whereupon she settles herself into it quietly. Michael nods, still mostly not-there. "Phaedra Bethel; she has connections high up within the Zevite military. They're often allied with worlds which have rebel problems of their own; she may be able to get more on Hesperia than you can." It all comes out in a monotone, without sentence breaks. ============================================================================== Finger information for Phaedra ( Phae ): ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Position: Crystal Singer, class 2007 Gender: female Location: Phaedra's Suite (#5378R) Email: Ask if you need it. Planet: Phaedra Sappho Beth-El is from Zevi. Age: 37.7 years Preferences: !code !flirting_ooc !rl !tinysex angst ic roleplay tinyplots Unread +mail: 2 Phaedra was last connected Mon Feb 13 15:01:14 1995. ============================================================================== Tamber's eyebrows climb higher, as he evidently recognizes the name. Bernadette continues to frown, the name meaning nothing to her. She says quietly "I'd just like to know whos' responsible." She shrugs and looks at her beer. Michael, in none too good shape himself, appears to take this as an acusation and snaps, "I'm doing all I can, damn it." Tamber frowns, leans over, and looks at Michael earnestly. "Dear man, your assistance has already been invaluable." He almost smiles. "For you getting words out of Kevlan just now, for that alone, I consider myself in your debt." Bernadette blinks and reels a bit, as if she'd been slapped, her face reddening as she says quietly again "I don't doubt that, Michael." Michael half-smiles, strangely. He doesn't appear to hear Bernadette, and he doesn't look at Tamber. He lifts his glass to take another sip, and puts it down when nothing comes from the empty glass. "Words....." he murmurs as though it's a private joke. Bernadette frowns as she listens to Tamber again, looking obviously disappointed that she wasn't awake to hear Kevlan speak. She lowers her gaze again to her glass. Tamber adds, one elegant eyebrow airily quirked, "I shall contact her at once." Tamber turns to the desk terminal, and begins quietly tapping in a message. Bernadette turns away from Tamber and Michael on her seat, facing the bed and Kevlan instead, simply watching Kevlan sleep. Tamber murmurs, seeming almost pleased, "I pray that she will recall her experience with him... " as he glances over at Kevlan, then returns to typing. Michael stares into the distance, not saying anything. He lifts his empty glass again automatically and puts it down again. Bernadette remains silent and can't seem to keep herself from brushing Kevlan's hair off of his face with a light touch. Tamber then sends off the message, and looks up at Michael with a somewhat clearer gaze. He says gently, "It shall help us all, to help Kevlan. Thank you for joining us in the effort." Bernadette nods absently, hearing Tamber on some level, and murmurs "Yes, thank you.." Kevlan turns his face slightly towards Bernadette. A barely audible whimper creeps out of him, but subsides at her contact, and his brow smooths a little. Bernadette's eyes soften and a very small, very tender smile graces her lips for a moment. She lets her hand linger, keeping her fingers lightly on Kevlan's forehead. Michael brings himself back with an effort. For a moment he seems as lost as Kevlan, but his strength is far greater now and his discipline better. He nods silently, taking the words from Tamber and Bernadette and spinning them into sense until he can speak himself. "No thanks, please," he says softly. "It's as much my job as yours." He stands up more than a little unsteadily. "Please let me come work with him again?" Tamber nods readily, touching Bernadette lightly to draw her attention to Michael's question. But a wry, dry smile curves Tamber's lips, and he adds, "Though, if all goes well, it should be Kevlan himself that decides." Bernadette looks up at Michael, a wary expression on her face, as if she doesn't want to move away. Michael half-smiles. "When Kevlan can decide that he'll not need me anymore," he murmurs in agreement with Tamber. To both of them, "I'll be at home and I'm just next door. If you want me, or he does, or you'ev something to ask me, please come. Mar --" he winces and turns white on the spot. "Rhianna will understand, at whatever hour," he finishes without hearing himself. Bernadette blinks and frowns a little as she nods at Michael. Tamber nods solemnly. If he notices the slip of the Singer's tongue, he gives no sign, and simply says smoothly, "We will remember that you are near." Michael takes one long look back at the young man lying half-wasted on the bed, then turns and goes. Michael steps out into the hallway. Michael has left.