778: One Flew Over the Looney Bin

by Lara Valera Ryn
90215.00
Time: Days Ago...

-= Starfleet Health and Wellness Center, Psychiatric Ward =-

“Julian!” Her scream was so loud, so intense, that it woke Lara up.

She jumped from her sleeping position and sat up in the bed, the sheets viciously twisted around her legs. Her heart pounding from being awoken from the recurrent nightmare, Lara took a moment to take a deep breath. She then worked to untangle the sheets and found that they were, as usual, soaked with sweat. It was only when she had finished untangling herself that she noticed that she was not alone.

Lara looked over at the room’s other occupant. The lady was sitting in a chair near the door of the room, half blocking it and subtly reminding Lara that there was no escape from the room in which she lived, if living could even be used to describe her life over the past six months.

Looking at the lady in the chair, Lara asked, almost timidly, “What did you give me?”

The woman, Starfleet psychiatrist Alyce Haschen, carefully crossed one leg over the other. She did not bother to look over the information on the padd in her hand, which contained the medical information of the patient before her. “Just a mild sedative.”

The answer made Lara mad. No, it made one of the previous hosts mad --- at least the memory of a previous host that the slimy worm now inside of her pointedly reminded her. And that was probably what made this situation the most intolerable, deciding which was the lesser of two evils --- the doctor or the parasite.

“But I don’t need any sleeping aids,” she finally said, trying to maintain control over herself and the situation. “I would sleep just fine, if I weren’t here. I’m not crazy, Dr. Haschen.”

“The trauma you have suffered was severe on many levels.” Haschen, as always, spoke with an ‘I know best,’ tone. As usual, Lara found it insufferable. Haschen was the type of professional that Julian had hated, the one that Lara now found herself growing to hate, independent of Julian’s influence.

“I’m not traumatized.”

Haschen patronized her with a slight smile. It was one that Lara had grown used to, but one that she nonetheless did not like.

“I experienced a tragedy, and I am going to remember it vividly for the rest of my life.” With each word she spoke, Lara felt herself gaining confidence. But she did not know whether this confidence came from herself --- well, who she used to be before the invasion of the worm --- or from one of the worm’s previous hosts, not least of all its last host, Julian. “But keeping me here is what is driving me crazy, that is, if I have clinically passed the line.”

“That’s what I’m here to discuss, Lara.”

In the past, such a response would have raised Lara’s hopes. Now, after six months in the loony bin --- or as it was officially known, the Starfleet Health and Wellness Center, Psychiatric Ward --- she knew better.

“There are those who believe,” Haschen continued, her voice as clinical and professional and unemotional as ever, “that you will never learn to adjust unless you are able to associate with your own kind.”

Lara had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Her own kind. Was that some sort of sick joke? She was not naturally a cynic, but clearly one of the past hosts had been; she just did not know which one yet. Instead of tackling that issue head on, Lara tried another approach. “But you’re not one of those people.”

“No.” It was the most candid admission Haschen had ever made to Lara. Lara knew that it bothered Haschen that her patient had been deemed medically fit for months, which is why Lara had suspected the psychiatrist had insisted all the more that Lara remained locked up for psychiatric evaluation. At least that is what Lara told herself to convince her that she was still sane.

“So, are you going to transfer me to an asylum on Trill or Earth?”

“Neither. As of tomorrow, you are going to be released from the Center and are returning to duty.”

“I’m returning to a dig site. Where?”

“Nowhere. It has been determined that a different type of assignment would be most beneficial for your full recovery.”

Lara couldn’t resist scrunching up her nose. “Huh?”

“You’re not going back to archaeology, Lara. Those days are over.”

Now it was Julian and his influence that reared his ugly head in her response. “What is that supposed to mean? I am a fully trained archaeologist, and my head now contains my experiences, plus, thanks to this worm, the experiences of my predecessor.” It pained Lara to refer to Julian as nothing more than that, but she could feel his influence goading her to use him as such.

“You are also trained in anthropology,” Haschen continued, ignoring that Lara was rolling her eyes, “and botany.”

“Both of which serve me well on digs.”

“And both of which will serve you well on your next assignment, the Serendipity.”

Lara scrunched her nose again. “That sounds like a ship.”

“It is. And they have an opening in their science department, an opening which the board of this center has determined that you are going to fill. The necessary arrangements have been made through Starfleet Medical.”

“So let me get this straight. I have two choices: stay here or go there.”

Haschen stood up, a general indication that their meeting was over. “No, you have one choice, to go there. It will be an ideal setting for you to reprioritize your life. There are two full Trills serving aboard, and the Center feels that association with them will help adjust to your new life.”

Lara wanted to spit out, ‘Great, more worms,’ but her own symbiont twisted just enough inside her body so as to stop her from making the comment. It was becoming a common interaction between the two of them, and while Lara could suppress the grimace from showing on her face, it still hurt when the worm twisted.

Haschen walked toward the door, but then stopped before leaving the room. Almost as an afterthought, she said, “You’ll be released tomorrow after one final examination.” She knocked on the door, which was opened from the outside. It quickly shut behind her and locked.

Lara stared at the locked door, as she had every time that Haschen or another person had come or gone. Before, she had always wondered, when was she going to be let out of the room? Now that she was told she was going, and not to a place of her choosing, she wasn’t so sure that leaving was the greatest of ideas.

Flopping back down on the bed and pulling the sheet back up over her body, she mumbled to herself, or at least to the foreign thing inside of her body, “And there will be no comments from the peanut gallery today.”

LT (jg) Lara Valera Ryn
Science Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

NRPG: Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. We're thrilled to have you with us. ~ZL