Looking down at my hands,
“Why aren’t they shaking?”.
My usual cocktail of amphetamines and muscle relaxants had long worn off and I felt clear headed. So why weren’t they shaking?
The recent events on Deadwood had been taking up all my attention. Giving me something to focus on, other than my own problems. I had figured a way, long ago, to suppress the shakes. I was always good in a lab and chemicals were my forté. In a lab I was Invincible. In a lab, I could do anything.
Mac would occasionaly look at me with “that look” she does. When she thinks I am going to slide, she knows the signs. She would sedate me, or lock me up and one time she even knocked me out. Oblivion was better than remembering.
“Why aren’t my hands shaking?”
It was good to work in a lab again, coming up with the fake plague for the captain was fun. Like the jokes we used to play on medical students back at St Lucy’s on Ariel during my internship. It was good to do something for the crew.. I feel bad about Zen though, he’s a solid guy and I feel bad, not telling him about the aerosol. He still thinks we saved him from the plague. We all keep up the pretense, but sometimes it’s hard not to smile…. especially when he thanks us for getting to him in time.
By the time I got back to the ship, the last of the chemicals had worked their way out of my system, my “mother’s little helper”, my redemption cocktai, all gone. I was sober. I hadn’t even noticed.
“Not a tremor”,_
Everyone’s in the breakroom, laughing about the narrow escape on Deadwood. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sight of the captain in a dress, I have to ask him how he was able to run in those heels. He seemed well practiced in that regard. Hell, I need a coffee, I think it’s time to lay off the hard stuff for a while. Time to sober up. I have a crew that needs a doctor.
“Look at that, steady as a rock, not a murmur… “,
Another round of laughter from the other room, I think I’ll join them grab a coffee.
It’s good to be home…