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Jonas had had many close encounters with sea creatures over his years of being a deep-sea diver in the Marine Corps, but he had never experienced anything like this: just him and the meg in the middle of the fucking ocean, him only attached to the boat with the rest of the Mana One crew by a thin spool of wire. The adrenaline from coming face to face with a 75 foot shark as he was hauled back onto the boat still pounded in his veins, and it wasn’t until Jonas and the entire crew were back at the underwater base that Jonas realized he had suffered several injuries. He cataloged his wounds to the best of his ability and noted several ribs that were bruised or maybe fractured, a long gash along one bicep that would likely require stitches, and a ringing headache with blurred vision and nausea that suggested a concussion of at least minor severity.
Staying upright while he let Mac and DJ shepherd him into the medical bay was all that Jonas could manage, and as he sat down on the cot he had to take several deep breaths to prevent himself from vomiting on Dr. Heller, who had entered just behind Jonas. DJ stepped away and left with a nod to Jonas, but Mac clapped Jonas gently on the shoulder and looked over his injuries before giving him a sympathetic glance and leaving, leaving Jonas and Dr. Heller alone.
Dr. Heller was busying himself with rifling through the cabinets that lined the walls and was setting a number of bottles and bandages on the counter. After several minutes he turned, hands full, and walked to Jonas. Placing down the bottles (Jonas recognized lidocaine, sterile water and iodine), bandages, a syringe, and surgical thread on a rolling tabletop, Dr. Heller pulled the table and its contents over with him and sat down in a straight-backed plastic chair beside Jonas’ cot, putting him at a similar height to Jonas.
“I need to check you over, Jonas. You took a nasty blow to the head, I can tell from the way you’re breathing that your ribs are giving you some trouble, and I can see that that cut on your arm needs to be cleaned and stitched. We need to get that shirt off so that I can make sure those ribs will set right on their own. Do you think you can do that yourself?”
“Of course I can do it myself, Heller,” Jonas said as he stood up, reaching for the hem of his shirt. He winced as his bicep set stabbing ripples of pain up and down his arm, then felt his ribs scream as the pain stole the breath from his lungs. The second time he attempted to remove the shirt from the back, reaching behind his head with his good hand and grabbing the collar of the shirt. He pulled for several seconds before stopping when his shirt stopped moving, stuck as it was on his head and elbows. After wiggling around for several seconds and attempting to extricate himself in vain, Dr. Heller cleared his throat.
“Let me help you with that before you hurt yourself.” Heller coughed in a failed attempt to hide his chuckle. Jonas huffed and muttered to himself but offered no other response as Heller carefully maneuvered the shirt around Jonas’ broken ribs and wounded arm. After a few minutes, Dr. Heller dropped the shirt on the cot next to Jonas and sat down in his chair. Jonas sat down, his face red as he avoided Dr. Heller’s gaze.
“It’s the ribs on my left side. The bottom three feel like they’re stabbing me,” Jonas said, looking down and off to the side at the floor. Dr. Heller nodded as he gently ran his fingers over Jonas’ ribs, pressing lightly and noting the grimace and unsuccessfully restrained flinch it elicited. He peered at Jonas’ side for several seconds, studying the bruising quickly forming just beneath the skin over the ribs.
“They should heal fine on their own, as long as you rest and keep ice on them. But if you get hit there again… we’ll need to do something else. What next? Perhaps your head?” Jonas nodded and immediately winced as the motion created stars of pain in his vision. Dr. Heller went through the neurological exam, nodding and noting several things as he gathered the results.
After he finished his tests, Dr. Heller turned his attention to the gash on Jonas’ arm. “ Alright, let’s have a look. I’ll give you some pain medication afterwards, though I know you are quite reluctant to use any medication except your chosen poison.” Heller could hear Jonas grinding his teeth at the badly concealed contempt, and Dr. Heller immediately regretted his words. After letting them hang in the air as he sutured Jonas’ wound, Dr. Heller spoke again.
“I’m glad you didn’t suffer more grievous injuries, Jonas. I’m sorry for what I said about the medication, that was crude of me. And I apologize for doubting your sanity; I let my own biases get in the way of helping you, as was my duty, and I am truly sorry for the effect it had on our friendship.” Heller saw Jonas’ eyes flick to his and hold his gaze for several seconds before looking away again. “ I can’t imagine the stress you were under when you had to make that decision, and I know I couldn’t have done it. I truly am sorry, Jonas, and I hope that you can forgive me.” As he talked, Dr. Heller finished his stitches and set his materials down, and let his hand come to rest on Jonas’ own.
When Jonas didn’t move away, Heller looked at Jonas' face and waited for Jonas’ eyes to meet his. When he finally did, Heller held his gaze and waited for Jonas to break it. The eye contact lasted for several seconds before they simultaneously surged towards each other and pressed their mouths together. They stayed pressed together for several seconds before Jonas pulled back, breathing hard, when he heard the sound of several glass bottles crashing to the floor. Dr. Heller groaned quietly, first at the bottles and then at the approaching footsteps that could be heard from the hallway.
Mac burst through the door, slightly out of breath, skidding to a stop once he saw Dr. Heller already bent down to mop up the lidocaine that covered the floor next to his table. After taking in both of the mens’ flushed faces and loud breaths, Mac snorted to himself, sent a wink towards Jonas, and turned on his heel to walk back out of the medbay, closing the door behind him. Jonas grumbled, rubbing his face and groaning quietly to himself before standing up and awkwardly stepping around Dr. Heller, who was at the moment still positioned right in front of the cot.
“I should go and- yeah. I’ll see you in the lab sometime soon. That was- yeah.” Jonas unconsciously passed his hand over his mouth on his way out of the door.
Once outside, he immediately saw Mac leaning against the opposite wall with a large smile on his face. Jonas groaned quietly but made his way over anyway. Mac pushed himself off of the wall he leant against and walked to meet Jonas.
“I see you and Dr. Heller made up, huh? Congrats, man, we were all taking bets on how long it would take you two.” Mac chuckled and elbowed Jonas gently in the arm. “He kept talking about you, you know, after you left. Anytime anyone mentioned your name, he would start going on about how you needed PTSD treatment, regardless of whether you had pressure-induced psychosis or were attacked by something. He said he didn’t care what happened to you or what you did after you left, but he still kept bringing up how you were probably drinking yourself into the ground and how you needed help. Wouldn’t have expected Heller to be sentimental, but I think he actually cares about you, Jonas.”
“Well, I’m not looking for anything serious, and to be honest I’m not even sure what the hell happened, so piss off,” Jonas sputtered, going red despite his claims. Mac just laughed in response and gave him a thumbs up and a big smile before walking off in the direction of one of the decks. Jonas stared after him for several seconds before shaking his head and following after Mac, though he stopped just before he left the hallway to look back at the door to the medbay.