Part VII - From Here

Posted on Sun Feb 2nd, 2014 @ 1:47pm by Lieutenant Commander Horatio Hawke & Lieutenant Commander Ciaran McIntyre

Episode: Trauma
Location: Pike City, Cestus III
Timeline: 13 November 2390

[ON]

Horatio stepped out of Counselor Toma's office feeling ... he didn't know how he felt, to be honest. Was that a breakthrough? Where to from here?

Toma had said he would continue seeing him weekly while he was on Cestus, but then his ongoing counselling would be handled by the ship's counselor of his next assignment.

"You're passing me fit for duty?" he had asked, a little bewildered and a lot excited.

"Not yet," Toma said. "But I will, so long as you continue to have regular sessions with a counselor."

They had discussed the treatment pathway, which frankly Horatio thought was a bit undignified; he hated talking to counselors. Nevertheless, he went with it. Just talking about the ongoing treatment untied that knot in his stomach and quietened his heart.

The pain was still there, but it wasn't taking control. He felt more like himself than he had in weeks.

As he closed the office door behind him, Horatio was shocked and relieved to see a familiar face.

"What are you doing here?" he asked McIntyre, who was sitting on one of the waiting couches next to a window that overlooked the street.

"What do you mean?" He asked indignantly, regarding Hawke dismissively. "I come here all the time, they do a great risotto."

The clinical surroundings of the Counselling Suites were about as far from a plush Pike City restaurant as it was possible to get. McIntyre's barb covered over his concern for his friend. His own worries had been placed to one side upon experiencing the cloud which had hung over Hawke ever since that day in The Brew House.

"What are you doing here?" He jabbed a long finger at him as a wide smirk crossed his face.

Horatio smiled as relief washed through him; the last thing he wanted was for his friends to treat him differently, or give him a wide berth. He’d definitely done enough to earn it, but to hear Mac cracking wise at him like old times was the sign of a true friend.

“Oh, you know,” he said, absently waving back to Toma’s door, “just required counselling and stuff …” he paused. Mac was here, he deserved more than flippancy. “You knew?” he asked, his voice carrying his embarrassment.

"Yeah." McIntyre replied flatly. He placed a hand firmly on Hawke's shoulder guided him toward the exit. "Happens to the best of us, bud. Happens to the best of us."

They stepped out into the vibrant bright light and pouring rain of Pike City. The curious thing about its atmosphere was its almost translucent cloud cover which allowed natural light to stream down, even in the worst weather conditions.

"Where to?" McIntyre asked.

Horatio looked up at the skies and cringed at the rain. He was not a fan of rain, having avoided it most of his life. He stuck his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I just want to go home, Mac,” he said, referring to his apartment. That wretched apartment.

"As you wish, Squire." McIntyre replied quietly, almost drowned out by the hammering of the rain on the pavement. "Want me to walk with you?"

“Sure,” Horatio replied. A week ago he might have regarded the offer as suspicious, of evidence that Mac was reading too much into his state of mind. Not this week, though. He knew what was going on and was grateful for the support of a friend.

They strolled the streets of Pike City toward the apartment block in Prescott Hill. The walk would take them only about ten minutes and they both had umbrellas to shield them from the rain.

As they walked, something niggled in the back of Horatio’s mind. “I’m afraid they’re going to kick me out,” he said. Then added, “Or worse.”

"Why the hell would you think that?"

“I’ve seen it happen before,” Horatio said continued, remembering other officers he’d seen wrecked after traumatic incidents. They tried to continue, but ended up either leaving or being forced out. He didn’t want that to happen to him. “Counsellor Toma reckons Starfleet is very tolerant and I’ll get all the support I need …” he shook his head slowly. “The problem is … they’d have zero tolerance if that support doesn’t get results.”

"It's nice to have the old Hawke back." McIntyre chuckled under his canopy. "Always looking on the bright side."

They walked in silence for a moment, weaving to avoid a pack of school kids screaming down the pathway. Finally, Horatio said, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to be more optimistic. For every failure, there has to be a success, right? I’d be nothing if I didn’t have Starfleet! I really want this to work, man. I need it to work.”

"Well, given the way you were a few weeks ago, I'd say it's working pretty well so far." McIntyre thought back to the day when Hawke had given the cadets jip in the Brew House. "Starfleet aren't going to abandon you. None of us are."

Horatio couldn’t help but smile. Knowing he had people in his corner was the greatest support he could hope for. Even after the walking calamity he had been for weeks, people like Mac still stuck by him.

“Thanks, man,” he said after a brief pause. “That means a lot.”

They were soon in front of Horatio’s apartment building. He looked up through the rain toward the roof and took a deep breath, reflecting on how close he might have gone.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked McIntyre suddenly, quickly turning his mind from the dark road it almost wandered down. He needed to get back into a healthy routine and he had plenty of leave to play with. He suspected Mac was in a similar position.

"Pike City are playing Lakeside Wanderers at home. The quality's pretty crap in comparison to the big leagues but I was going to head along to that. You're welcome to come with if you like?"

“Perfect!” Horatio felt a jump of excitement at the thought of going to a real match. “I’ll buy the beers.”

"Oh, I know you will." McIntyre replied with a wicked grin.

As Horatio turned, his attention was drawn by something glimmering in the bed of the garden next to the building steps. He recognised it straight away and reached in to pick it up. He dusted some of the soil off and held it up. The commbadge was clean, the blood having long been washed away by the downpour of the past day. The silver and gold device shone in the ambient light of a rainy Pike City day and Horatio smiled remembering everything for which that symbol stood.

“I thought I’d lost it,” Horatio said absently, possibly referring to more than just the commbadge he held. A smile crept across his face and he put it in one of the pockets of his coat.

Turning to McIntyre, he said, “See you tomorrow?”

"Definitely."

[OFF]