Chapter Text
Now that he was in the privacy of his office, Alistair took off his gloves and held up his hands. He sighed in annoyance as they began shaking again. They had been doing it intermittently for the past couple of hours, since the firefight with the latest group of aliens who had decided to try something nefarious on Earth. At least his hands weren’t in any pain, only discomfort aside from the trembling.
It wasn’t nerves or anxiety, certainly. He’d learned to get over that quickly in his military career. No, this had to be the result of one of the aliens’ firearms hitting his hands somehow. With all the exchanged fire, it would’ve been easy for that to have happened, and with adrenaline, he could’ve not noticed it right away. It hadn’t left a visible mark, but now he knew it had left some sort of damage.
He sat in his desk chair, and watched his hands for a moment longer. He wasn’t going to entertain the possibility that it was actually a result of both things. The fight had been bad, yes. He’d lost a couple of his men, yes. But they’d won in the end. And what was left to do now, the paperwork reporting about it to his superiors, didn’t deserve that kind of anxious reaction. It was a purely physical reaction.
Alistair had reports to fill out and write, but all he could do was stare at his shaking hands. And was it his imagination, or was the tremble getting worse?
No, it definitely was. He clasped his hands together in an attempt to stop it, but then they simply shook together.
Maybe he should see a doctor about it, before it could get any worse. Not the Doctor, since he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Not that kind of doctor, he would say if Alistair asked. Although he would probably try anyway. In fact, Alistair knew he would, and he smiled a little at that thought.
Alistair quickly dropped his hands to his lap at the knock on the door. “Come in.”
Benton opened the door and stepped inside. “Is there anything I can do, sir?”
Alistair glanced down at the papers on his desk. Without thinking, he brought his hands up to move the pages aside as he glanced through them. After a moment, he determined, “No, but thank you, Sergeant.”
“Are you alright, sir?” Benton asked.
“Yes, of course I’m-” Then Alistair remembered his trembling hands, and clenched the one not holding a sheet of paper. He sighed, wishing he hadn’t forgotten for that short moment. “I’ll be alright, Benton.”
Benton watched the Brigadier’s hands for a few seconds more, and looked as though he was about to pursue the matter further, but decided against it. “Very well, sir.”
Alistair knew he didn’t have to ask Benton not to mention it to anyone. “Dismissed, Sergeant.” He would get it looked at, if it didn’t stop for good by the end of the day.