Work Text:
Despite Julian’s best efforts, it takes over a month to get Major Kira to stick around in sickbay long enough to give her a real physical. Full medical records are a requirement for all personnel, and the information in Kira’s file is spotty at best, abysmal at worst. Almost no medical history, no allergy documentation whatsoever. The first entry in her immunization record was made when she was twenty-four years old.
Kira’s dislike of the Federation clearly extends to receiving medical attention — either that, or Julian made an even worse first impression than he thought — so strongly that she’s only showed up in sickbay for treatment a single time since Julian arrived on the station, and even then she was finding an excuse to flee before he’d even found a place to set down the dermal regenerator.
This time he doesn’t think she’ll be quite as fast, given that Odo’s taking most of her weight as he nearly carries her in through the sickbay doors.
“Constable!” Julian straightens, alarmed, striding to meet him and help Kira down onto the closest bed. There’s blood on her face and down one of her arms, but she’s definitely conscious. “What happened?”
Kira groans and tries to swat at Julian’s hand when he moves in with the tricorder, a motion equal parts frustrating and reassuring. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he pushes her good arm back down, gesturing at Odo to hold it in place. Odo grimaces but obeys, muttering at her to hold still as he grips her arm at the elbow.
“She was helping clear out the rubble on one of the old mining decks,” he says gruffly as Julian squints at the readings in front of him. The damage isn’t so bad, actually. No concussion. It’ll mostly be an issue of skin regeneration, to make sure that line down to her jaw doesn’t scar. “It must have been booby trapped.”
“No one else was injured?”
Julian’s surprised he didn’t hear about it, if it caused Kira this much grief. Surely it couldn’t have been only her? But the rest of sickbay is pretty quiet, as it usually is at this hour, and no one’s commed him about any type of emergency. A few civilians have been seen by the night shift nurse for minor aches and pains, but other than that, tonight there’s been very little to do. Julian himself ought to have left hours ago, only he got distracted by some casework and forgot to check on the time. Lucky timing, Julian thinks, although he isn’t sure Kira would agree.
“The Major was off-duty,” Odo says stiffly — always stiff, this one. A strange contradiction, given that the man can melt at will. “There was no one else in the vicinity.”
Julian frowns distractedly. That doesn’t sound like the kind of thing Sisko would sign off on.
“I was cleaning up a bit, that’s all,” Kira groans, hissing as she shifts a little, resettling herself on the table. “It’s a mess up there.”
“Does Commander Sisko know you were there?”
Kira and Odo shoot him twin glares, visibly hostile enough that Julian raises his hands in a brief gesture of apology before sliding the tricorder down to take a look at her arm instead. The damage there is worse than her head; he finds a fracture to the wrist, and lacerations on her fingers and palm. She must have tried to block whatever collapsed on top of her, and it’s good that she did. A fractured wrist is much easier to mend than a shattered skull.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, there’s evidence of older breaks to the hand, damage to the ligaments that never healed properly. It’s the kind of thing that would only take a few hours to fix; he’s surprised Kira never thought to have it dealt with.
“Alright, Major,” he says briskly, nudging Kira until she’s lying down properly. “Let’s get that cut on your face seen to first, shall we?”
Kira’s still frowning, but she doesn’t try and stop him as he does a quick pass to clear off the blood, careful around the delicate skin under her eyes. She stays silent while he heals her face, careful not to move her lips when he moves lower with the dermal regenerator. Odo hovers next to her like some sort of strange overseer. Julian’s surprised he didn’t clear out as soon as he got Kira on the bed; Odo seems to distrust sickbay even more than Kira does, if that’s even possible, and he definitely doesn’t seem like the type to offer moral support.
“How much longer, Doctor?”
Ah. There’s the Odo he’s come to expect. Julian smiles a little as he leans in closer to ease the regenerator around the curve of her chin, stepping back to admire his handiwork when he’s done.
“We’ll have to use the osteal regenerator for that hand, I’m afraid,” he says, addressing the words to both of them even though Odo is the only one who asked. Kira’s mouth twists into a frown.
“But do you know how long that’ll take?”
“You’re off duty, correct?”
Kira’s eyes are still narrowed in suspicion.
“Yes,” she says slowly.
“There’s existing damage to the hand and wrist,” Julian says, peering at the screen in front of him. “It looks like some old injuries were probably set incorrectly?”
Odo makes a funny grumbling, coughing noise. Kira only huffs a little, impatient.
“What’s it to you?”
“I’m your doctor,” Julian points out, quite reasonably. “It’s in my line of work to ask, I’m afraid.”
“It’s fine,” Kira says impatiently. “It was a long time ago. It healed fine.”
“It didn’t, as a matter of fact, and it could cause problems later on if not corrected now,” Julian says, ignoring her protest. “Chronic joint pain and arthritis are highly likely.”
Kira opens her mouth to protest and then stops; closes it and sets her jaw as she thinks it over instead.
“How long will it take?”
“A few hours, give or take,” Julian says, smiling hopefully. “And you’re already here.”
Kira nods, slowly. Next to her, Odo is very still, waiting for her response.
“Fine,” Kira relents, not looking particularly happy about it. Julian smiles at her anyway, pleased to have met relatively little resistance.
“Let’s get started on that wrist, then,” he says, and then, remembering Odo’s presence, he turns towards him. “There’s no need for you to stay, Constable, if there’s somewhere you need to be. It’s a simple procedure, but it can be a little time consuming. I’m sure it will be quite dull for you.”
Strangely, Odo doesn’t take the excuse right away. His eyes flick to Major Kira’s, instead, as though searching for her permission. She smiles up at him; it’s small, but it’s the first smile Julian’s seen from her that night. He hasn’t seen her smile much at all, he realizes, watching as she reaches with her good hand to pat at Odo’s sleeve. It softens her face considerably.
“You go on, Odo,” she says, still smiling. “You heard the doctor, I’ll be fine here.”
“If you’re sure,” Odo says gruffly, hesitating a moment longer before taking an awkward step backwards. “I’ll check on you tomorrow morning, make sure you’re all right.” He offers Julian a nod, then, before turning and making his way out of the infirmary. Kira watches him go, a fondness in her expression Julian’s never seen before.
He clears his throat and the warmth in Kira’s expression melts away, face tightening as she focuses back on him.
“Right,” she says, lips pressing together like she’s bracing herself for something. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I feel I must ask, Major,” Julian says a few moments later, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the low hum of the regenerator, one eye on the screen to monitor its progress. “When are you planning to come in for your physical? You’re the only member of the senior staff who has yet to make an appointment.”
The look Kira fixes him with is downright murderous. He’s got her trapped, though, her arm encased in the regenerator, so Julian steels himself and pushes on.
“As Chief Medical Officer I really do have to insist,” he says, as firmly as he can. “I’d hate to have to escalate the issue.”
Kira’s still scowling, muttering something no doubt unflattering under her breath before finally huffing out a breath. She turns her head towards the door for a moment, away from Julian, the line of her jaw tense.
“Just do it now, then,” she says, finally, surprising him, turning back to look him right in the eye. “While I’m already here.”
“I may have to ask quite a few questions,” Julian warns her. “If you’re too uncomfortable — ”
“I’m fine,” Kira says briskly, cutting him off. Julian doubts that very much; she hadn’t let him give her anything at all for the pain, said she wanted to keep her head clear. He recognizes the determined look on her face, though, as one that means she isn’t going to budge.
“Alright,” Julian agrees, because it’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing — he really didn’t want to have to bring the issue to Commander Sisko. He taps at the screen of the regenerator, changing the settings so it’ll alert him when the current phase is finished, before reaching for another PADD to pull up Major Kira’s file.
“There’s a lot of information missing here,” he says, wincing as Kira immediately bristles, offended. “I understand the reasons, of course,” he adds hastily, before she can say anything. “But I was hoping you could go through it with me.”
Kira chews at her bottom lip.
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” she says, finally, not as belligerently as before. She shrugs. “It isn’t as though I was going to an infirmary regularly, Doctor. Most of the time if I got sick I just pushed through it.”
“Just as you did if you broke your hand,” Julian fills in dryly. Kira nods, smiling a little.
“Dislocated, I think,” she corrects. “But yes. That was the only option I had.”
Her voice gets defensive towards the end, as though she’s anticipating pushback. Julian’s treated enough Bajorans over the past month to recognize Major Kira isn’t any different from the rest of her people. Most of them are just as sensitive about it, too; especially the mothers, who wanted badly to provide care for their children but had very few options available to them. Julian took more than one verbal beating before he learned to start phrasing his questions more delicately, giving the nursing staff more than a small amount of amusement.
“I understand,” he says, now, smiling at Kira as benignly as he can. She eyes him with slightly less open distrust than she had a few minutes earlier, which Julian takes as a success. He turns back to the padd and immediately lets out a startled sound at the readings in front of him.
“Your bloodwork is simply awful, though,” he says before he can stop himself, ruining the temporary peace between them in the process. “What sort of meals have you been eating? These are the levels I’d expect to see from a patient who was still starving. You should be showing more significant improvement by now.”
“I’ve been eating fine,” Kira snaps, defensive again, but Julian shakes his head.
“Are you even menstruating?” he asks, scrolling through the results with a frown.
“Yes,” Kira says immediately. Julian raises an eyebrow at her, skeptical.
“When was the last time?”
“A few months ago,” Kira admits. “But it’s always been irregular.”
“Due to nutritional deficiencies and physical stress,” Julian asserts, not letting her get away with that. “Not your body’s natural pattern.”
“What would you know about my body’s natural pattern?” Kira snaps, obviously nearing the end of her rope, but Julian only holds her gaze.
“About as much as you do, I suspect,” he says, lowering his voice into something less confrontational. She’s a patient, he reminds himself. Just like those Bajoran children. Just like their worried, defensive mothers. “Have you been replicating proper meals? A nutritional guide was sent out to all Bajorans on the station, I oversaw it myself.”
“Of course you did,” Kira mutters, which doesn’t actually answer his question.
“Have you been following it?”
He watches closely as she makes a face, mouth pursing and then releasing, a muscle in her jaw fluttering with tension.
“No,” she says, finally, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“May I ask why not?”
“Too busy,” she tries, but Julian doesn’t buy it. Not when she still won’t look at him properly.
“Major,” he says softly, silently willing her to turn her head.
“I don’t know — ” Kira starts, and then she snaps her mouth shut again, shaking her head roughly. “It’s nothing,” she says, then.
“Would you feel more comfortable speaking to one of the nurses?”
“No,” Kira laughs, ugly and raw. She finally looks at him, the anger and sorrow on her face so powerful that Julian’s the one who wants to look away, this time. “I wouldn’t.”
“Major,” he repeats again. “You have a replicator in your quarters, do you not? If there’s a problem with it, I’m sure Chief O’Brien can — ”
“There’s no problem.”
“So then why…?” Julien lets the question trail off, looking at her helplessly. He made a very stupid oversight coming out here, he knows now: he assumed all his patients would want to be helped. But he doesn’t know what to do with this stubborn defensiveness, this tough outer shell.
From the lost look on Kira’s face, she doesn’t know what to do with it, either.
“This could lead to much more serious problems,” Julian says, filling the silence with facts, for lack of anything better. “Loss of bone density, loss of muscle, even heart failure. You could have issues conceiving, in the future.”
Kira snorts.
“That’s not — ” she starts, but she doesn’t finish that sentence, either.
“You’re young,” Julian reminds her hesitantly. “Obviously there are other methods, but your mind might change. You won’t always feel the way you feel right now. It’s good to have options.”
“I don’t know how I feel right now,” Kira says. Julian stares at her, surprised she’s willing to say something so — vulnerable, almost. She is young, he realizes, looking at her. He knew, obviously, from looking at her file, but knowing and seeing are two different things. She seems as though she’s lived so much more than him, but they really aren’t so far apart in age. “That’s not something I ever let myself think about.”
That makes sense, Julian supposes. He doesn’t imagine the place where Kira grew up was particularly well-suited to raising a child.
“Things are changing now,” he reminds her. “You have more options, if you want them.”
He watches, fascinated, as Kira wrestles her own expression under control.
“Right,” she says dismissively. There’s still an unmistakable thread of tension in her voice.
“You can’t survive off ration bars forever,” Julian says. It’s a guess, based only off of her bloodwork and her behaviour, but judging by the look on her face he’s hit the mark. “Replicate some meals, alright? Or start going to Quark’s.”
Kira grimaces for real this time.
“The replicator is fine,” Julian assures her hastily. “But see that you use it, won’t you?”
“Fine,” Kira says, voice flat. There’s a pause, the silence broken only by the vague rustling of the night nurse doing inventory in the back, and then she shifts on the bed, wincing a little. “Is this almost done?”
“Twenty more minutes,” Julian says, focused back on the padd. “How do you feel about coming back in for an allergy test next week?”
Kira fixes him with a dull glare.
“I’ll want to do a full body scan as well,” Julian barrels on, ignoring her expression completely. “I’m sure there’s damage from other old injuries to be repaired.”
“Repaired,” Kira says flatly. “Right.”
“Healed,” Julian amends, not sure that’s really any better. “To make you more comfortable.”
“I’m more comfortable than I’ve ever been,” Kira snaps, only she doesn't make it sound like a good thing. Julian wavers, a little, at the angry look on her face. There’s something else underneath all that rage, he realizes. It almost looks like fear, but — surely not.
Either way, he doesn’t know what to say to it. He doesn’t think she’d take it well if he recommended a Starfleet counselling program.
She seems fine with the long silence that follows, at least, or as fine as she’s capable under the circumstances. She turns her arm obediently when prompted, and she doesn’t make any more comments.
“Take it easy on that hand,” Julian advises her when the regenerator beeps to signal it’s finished, lifting it up from where it had been covering her to probe at the skin, testing the muscles and ligaments underneath. Kira submits to the examination, but her whole body is strung tightly, as though ready to pounce. Julian steps back as soon as he’s finished, gesturing for her to stand up.
He hands her a padd before he lets her head for the door.
“You can’t help others if you don’t help yourself first,” Julian reminds her. “I’ve included the replicator codes for several vitamin complexes, as well as a copy of the recommended nutritional guide for Bajorans. I expect to see you back next month to follow up.”
Kira only barely falters before taking the padd and tucking it under her arm.
“Right,” she says in a curt voice, nodding briskly. She looks steadier, now, closer to her usual self. Julian wonders what her upcoming schedule’s like. He’ll have to send a message to the Commander, if she’s due on the next shift.
He wonders if she’ll come back on her own, or if he’ll have to track her down. The first one, he hopes. He’d like to see things getting easier for both of them.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says as she leaves.
She nods her acknowledgment, at least, so that’s something.
He hopes.