#Hospital – November 25, 2018

This logfile is imported from aitelogs2 and may contain errors or wrong timestamps.

Oxaris is, as ever, propped up in bed with her traditional stoic look to hide the boredom that threatens to creep up onto her face. She’s been wounded before, of course, but being laid up this badly is slowly beginning to whittle away at her nerves. And she’s barely been in here anytime whatsoever. With a resigned sigh, she flicks to yet another channels on the holoscreen, mandibles flicking in irritation. “How do

people watch this crap?” She mutters to herself.

Zaylus | Once the Redrock debrief adjourned, Zaylus did not linger long, floating hazily from the building and at once making his way to the hospital. Upon arrival he goes through the motions, navigating patient visiting with increasingly familiar hospital staff. Eventually he crosses the threshold of Ox's home away from home away from home, and tosses the normal curtesy of being invited in

and simply trudges across the floor to his normal chair, dropping into it with a long grunt. "Hey." He finally offers, dryly, while his free hand rubs over his eyes.

Oxaris glances to Zaylus and perks her brow plate in rare and genuine surprise. “Well, good to see your manners are intact,” she says with a dry laugh, turning down the volume of whatever soap she flipped to. She grunts as she carefully adjusts herself to sit up a little straighter before focusing on the young Turian sat besides her. “Have you been sleeping enough, Zaylus?”

Zaylus peeks out from behind his fingers in tired exasperation. "Has anyone?" He presses in barely more than a strained whisper. "Spirits, Oxaris." He continues in a normal volume. "I can't believe you can think of anything else right now. I'm kind of stuck on bug faced bullshit over here."

Oxaris hums softly as she folds her hands in her lap. “Language,” she says almost out of instinct, before continuing on. “I’m going to be in here awhile, Zaylus, I need something else to focus on. And if that’s the well-being of my squad mates, then that’s fine by me.” Her voice gets a little softer, more concerned as she tilts her head to put herself more within his vision. “So talk to me.”

Zaylus holds the stare for a few moments, in waning disbelief, until he slumps forward in defeat. He sets his good arm on the unused real estate at the edge of the bed, gently resting his head on top. "Unbelievable." He mutters with a dry chuckle. "Did you always mom your soldiers into submission? Or is that a new thing." He murmurs less than seriously, taking brief comfort in ribbing the

injured woman.

Oxaris lets out a soft laugh, before she winces and gingerly places a hand over her chest. She clears her throat and gives him a concerned, but stern look. “I’m worried about you.” She sighs softly and adds, “You’re not a trained soldier, it’s easy enough to see that. And what we saw on that ship is enough to shake even the most hardened of veterans. So instead of avoiding talking about it, why don’t you just

get it over with and talk to me.”

Zaylus remains still for several moments, and for the life of him, just can't deflect any longer. Maybe it's the gentle mom energy in the room or just the act of slowing down for a minute, either way, when he brings his head back up his face is choked with emotion. "I need help writing a letter." He murmurs, his voice strained and breaking as he brings up the page of drafts on his omni tool.

"I've never written one, and I need it to be good. Can you help me?"

Oxaris manages a soft smile and, a gentle chuckle. She nods and motions him to shift his chair a little closer to her bed. “I’ll gladly help.” If anything, she did not expect assisting him in writing a letter, but it must clearly mean a great deal to him. “Who is it to?”

Zaylus repositions so he's sitting more alongside her, so she too can easily see the text he's brought up. "I don't know yet." He sniffs. "I haven't gotten any information back, I'm just... trying to figure out what to say." He explains, holding out his message and looking expectantly at her to read.

Oxaris reads the letter, taking only a moment due to how short it is at the moment. She sighs softly and gives Zaylus a look of understanding. "It's difficult. It always is..." She reaches over to place a hand on his shoulder. "If it's any help, would you like to say what you should write and you just copy it down? It's... how I learnt."

Zaylus looks up miserably at her, forcing himself not to shrink under the friendly touch. "I try to just write whatever I'm thinking but I keep ending up in a corner." He explains softly. "I...I want them to know the truth, but not make it more painful for them. I don't have the tact to walk a fine line like that." Pulling his features in bitterness, he continues. "Maybe I shouldn't bother.

Hearing this from some stupid kid is the last thing these people need."

Oxaris watches him in silence, her eyes flicking from his face down to the message on his omni-tool. She could imagine the turmoil spiralling around within him, the desire to give some explanation, some nugget of truth to the family but equally fear what it could do to them. To receive a letter from the person who their son died for, it’s... difficult to come to terms with. “Or maybe receiving a letter from the life

saved by their son’s sacrifice will help them come to terms to it. Zaylus, no matter how you word it, it will always be painful. Always. But what you can do is at least give them additional closure, so that they know that their son’s sacrifice was not in vain, that the life he saved will go on and honour the man who gave him another chance at life. Just... write. Worry about altering it after.”

Zaylus stares down at the bedspread, unable to meet her eye as she speaks his hopes to him. After a brief silence, he closes the interface on his omni tool and turns his body to look at her. "Do you really think that's true?" He says in a low tone, clarifying after a beat. "That it wasn't in vain? I didn't even know the guy but I'm sure he was a better man than I ever was." He muses miserably,

his voice steeped in resignation as he finally verbalizes the thoughts that have plagued him since the ship. "What if the truth is he made a stupid trade, his life for mine, and now the universe is worse off for it?"

Oxaris she reaches over to gently raise his gaze to hers, her hand falling back to his shoulder afterwards. "He made the choice. He thought you were worth saving. Now it's time for you to start believing that." Her mandibles twitch as she leans back onto her bed, the strain of keeping her body turned like that wearing her out. "You have the choice of wallowing, or making something of the life you've been given again. And

you can start by writing that letter."

Zaylus doesn't resist her gentle leading, focusing on keeping his emotions restrained as she calms his existential worries. Her words lift the weight that had settled in his chest and give him a foothold, just one step to start that arduous uphill climb. But it's a start. Exhausted in every sense, he leans over the edge of the bed, setting his head down again with a weary sigh. "You've been

in here too long. I'll have to tell the doctor the boredom is making you delusional." Despite the comfort he had taken from her sentiments, the cynical part of him needs to diffuse the vulnerable tension with a less than enthusiastic joke. Still, a small smile betrays the gratefulness he has for the older figure.

Oxaris snorts softly and, with his head bowed down, she manages to lean over and give him a little flick straight to his brow. "Stop it," she chides with a little laugh. "I'll stay in here as long as I have to. But... admittedly it is rather boring. I've seen six different human soaps now and I don't understand any of them." She gives a weary sigh and once more folds her hands onto her lap. "But, Zaylus, you're far too

harsh on yourself. You need to stop trying to keep yourself in the mud and start looking up."

Zaylus lets out a little startled growl at the flick, returning right to a grin at her laughter and displeasure with human entertainment. He nods slightly against his good arm, wanting to believe he has it in him to do just that. "I'll try." He concedes, before quickly adding. "As long as you get your rest and get the hell out of here on time. No matter how many human soaps it takes."

Loading suggestions...