Work Text:
One, slip out of bed after you’ve silenced your loud and obnoxious alarm.
Two, wash up.
Three, brush back that matted and knotted-up fur.
Four, slip on your shirt and tie.
Five, spritz perfume on yourself and your coat.
And six, smile.
Because you’ve got quite the number of patients and paperwork today, and no one likes a negative nancy!
Especially MIRA.
Blue trudges into Medbay with a freshly made cup of coffee, gripping it weakly. It’s about 7:30 a.m.
Although they’re usually fine with waking early, they’re always grouchy and irritable in the morning before their coffee. The cold glare of their visor is enough to tell.
Drinking it feels like clinging to a lifeline, something that keeps their crewmates from having to see this unfavorable version of themself before they’ve properly woken up.
By 8:00 a.m., the coffee’s magic has begun to work.
Of course, it doesn’t fix all the lingering exhaustion they’ve been masking.
Such as the fact that they haven’t gotten proper sleep in—
What?
Three days?
Maybe more?
But that’s fine!
They can just let the lingering tension and fatigue drift into the background and be perfect Doctor Blue.
Who certainly wasn’t neglecting their own needs for their patients or work.
What kind of doctor would do that?
Scribble, scribble, scratch.
They work steadily on another document, out of... fifty?
Wow.
Orange was certainly feeling nice lately.
Usually it was a hundred.
Their hand might be cramping by the time someone comes in, but this paperwork must be finished.
Blue glances down at their pen.
Their fingers are gripping it a little too tightly.
They loosen them. No need to be tense.
Now, a question Blue often entertains while they work, because it can get boring despite the workload:
Who will be my first patient today?
And that question makes itself known quickly.
——————————————————————————
The day passes in a flash, just like the days before it.
But today...
Even as optimistic as Blue can get, their spirits are shot down.
It would be an understatement to say the day is overwhelming.
9:00 a.m.
The captain comes in, stumbling with their foot.
Looks like they kicked the generator and got electrocuted.
Will they ever learn?
The captain’s pride is too much sometimes, and Blue can practically sense the jealousy they have toward them.
But alas.
They treat them.
“Hold still, please.”
A smile, a nice and professional one.
9:10 a.m.
Nothing notable.
Just as they’re treating Red, Green comes in.
They’re sweeping, but somehow manage to knock over a couple of breakable Petri dishes, watching them shatter.
Thankfully, no one is hurt, nor is the substance inside deadly.
Still, it’s hard to focus on cleaning up the mess when Green is freaking out and the captain is lecturing Green about the importance of sweeping the “right captainly way.”
Blue’s fingers tighten around their glass cleaner.
Their brow furrows.
For a moment, they imagine snapping at both of them.
‘Could you both just shut up?’
Their grip loosens hastily.
No.
It’s fine.
Green didn’t mean to do it. The captain is only trying to help.
It’s fine.
10:00 a.m.
There’s some peace despite the chaotic nature of earlier.
Blue had to redo the Petri dishes and put them farther from the door.
They’ve gotten back into a quiet rhythm with their pen and paperwork.
Except their back does ache a little too much sometimes.
They shift in their chair.
Just ignore it.
Keep writing.
Their visor dims for a second, fluttering shut. Blue quickly blinks back awake.
’Keep writing,’ they repeat as a mantra.
Then a gleeful voice comes in, much more on top of the world than Blue can manage.
Oh. It’s Orange.
“Hello, Orange. How can I help you today?”
Blue smiles smoothly as they turn.
Orange gives a nervous laugh, playing with the stress ball in their hand before placing another stack of paperwork on Blue’s desk.
With a polite but very MIRA-approved smile, Orange says,
“I’ve got some more papers for you to fill out. It shouldn’t be so hard, right? Only two hundred more to notarize!”
Blue’s hand stops.
Two hundred.
Their hand had already cramped when they reached fifty.
But now two hundred more?
“It shouldn’t be too hard, right?” Orange continues cheerfully. “Especially if you cut out a couple meals! It’ll be due tomorrow morning!”
Orange gives a cheerful goodbye before strutting away.
Blue stares after them.
Their grip on the chair tightens.
Just a little, then loosens.
Okay.
Time to go back to the never-ending mountain of paperwork.
A couple of hours pass.
Hunched over, visor focused intently, Blue works with precision as the light scratching of their pen fills the room.
Besides the dim hum of the lights and the occasional creak of their chair, Medbay is quiet.
Blue likes the quiet.
Quiet means they can work.
Quiet means nobody needs anything from them.
Quiet means—
12:00 p.m.
Lunch.
They’re on page fifty by now?
Wow.
They might have to skip lunch.
But at that thought, they can already imagine the two cooks coming in again to drag them out of their work stupor.
Blue sighs.
They put on a weak smile before walking out for lunch.
Maybe they can bring it back?
The thought disappears as quickly as it comes.
Medbay is no place for food.
At least, they learned that thoroughly in their studies.
1:00 p.m.
Lunch is over.
It took a while to get back to Medbay as Blue listened to the chatter of their crewmates, including some drama escalating between Red and Purple again.
Everyone talks at once. Everyone talks to them. Blue nods in all the right places and eats half of what's on their plate.
But Blue doesn't know the afternoon is going to get even more chaotic.
First, White finally comes in.
Blue has expected it.
They drank a lot yesterday, hungover yet again.
In the nicest way possible, White demands all of Blue’s pain medication.
Blue has to explain, once again, that it needs to be stowed in Medbay for anyone else who needs it.
Then Purple conveniently comes in after.
Needing pain medicine, looking not particularly well.
“Purple, have you had anything to drink today?”
It’s a common phrase Blue asks them.
Purple looks begrudgingly toward them, avoiding the question, and Blue sighs.
Dehydration yet again.
Purple is often dehydrated, and today they look close to collapsing.
Despite insisting they’re fine, that woozy look is not reassuring.
Blue takes a quick skin turgor test.
Then a voice comes from the doors.
“Blue, say, do ya have any antibiotics? I nicked myself with the cutter again.”
Yellow, with Brown right behind them.
Blue sighs.
“Okay, Purple, stay here. I’ll just—”
Someone else comes in before they can finish.
“Blue, I need more of those ice packs. Cyan left their rocks out again!”
Black exclaims in bitter frustration.
Yellow gives Black a small side glare before turning their attention back to Blue.
Everyone’s visor is on Blue. Always has been. And not just because they’re intensely attractive.
There’s those waiting looks and buzzing sound Blue can't swat away. A dozen small whines, all at once.
One.
Two.
Three.
Right.
An ice pack for Black.
A couple of Band-Aids and cream for Yellow, who insists they need them.
Purple gets water and rest.
Another glimpse to the doors, where Green is.
A bucket and mop.
Because of the many times Green has spilled it, Blue immediately gets up, waving a hand.
“Green, it’s fine. I’ll clean myself.”
They say it gently. They always say it gently. But inside, something twists.
‘I don't even have time to clean my own messes.’
Green leaves without much resistance.
Blue turns back to their desk.
Another paper.
Another patient.
Another problem.
And like a cherry on top—
The captain is back.
They kicked the generator once again. Or was it another door?
Blue can’t recall.
Just treat.
Fill out a patient form.
Back to notarizing paperwork.
Blue feels their head spin a little as the clock hits 4:00 p.m.
A light ding.
Right.
Two more hours until dinner.
Their body feels thoroughly exhausted, and they glance at their full water glass, which was quietly waiting for them.
Oh.
They forgot to drink much today, huh?
They take one sip, just one. Then put it back down.
Page one hundred.
Their shoulders ache.
Their stomach feels uneasy from rushing through lunch.
They wish they had properly showered yesterday. Or even counting the days before.
The faint perfume they sprayed on their coat and themself is covering up the fact that they haven't had much time to take care of themself.
But there’s no need to ponder such things.
Keep up the illusion and just work.
Like you’re supposed to.
Worry later.
Before dinner, Cyan comes chirping in.
Blue gives them a warm smile, but they can’t properly focus on everything they’re saying.
Before long, there’s another gem placed in Medbay.
Something about... keeping the peace?
This must be the twentieth one this week.
Blue doesn’t mind gems.
Really, they don’t.
But when they’re scattered all over Medbay, it becomes hard to work. And Green might somehow miraculously trip over one again.
Blue looks at the gem, at the messy floor,
Their smile falters, but only for a second.
Then it returns.
“Thank you, Cyan.”
——————————————————————————-
DING DONG DING DONG!
Blue wakes with a start.
Huh?
They’d...
fallen asleep over their papers.
Page...
One hundred and twenty now.
How careless of them.
They must be more exhausted than they thought.
Blue grumbles groggily, wiping their visor as they awaken.
For once, they don't immediately smile.
6:00 p.m.
Dinner time.
Blue can’t smile as hard this time for some reason.
Maybe the lack of sleep. Maybe the day’s long work.
Maybe all of it.
They can only halfheartedly listen to their crewmates talk, offering a polite smile.
They do genuinely care about their crew. They want the best for all of them. But everything feels mushed together.
And now Orange is arguing with the cooks again about another violation.
Blue can't even tell what it's about.
They quietly eat their peas.
7:00 p.m.
Great.
Green has another bruise.
From all the grueling jobs Red gives the poor unpaid intern, it’s a wonder they’re not here all the time.
7:30 p.m.
8:00.
9:00.
Paperwork.
Paperwork.
Paperwork.
Or, at least, it was supposed to be.
Brown comes in this time, needing treatment for a mild burn mark.
Another scribble and scratch of Blue’s pen on paper.
Another interruption.
White wants another dose of pills with urgency.
Orange asks, insistently with a bright smile, if Blue has finished the paperwork yet.
‘It's not due until tomorrow morning,’ Blue thinks irritated but doesn’t dare say it.
‘I’ve been working on it since 10. You don’t have to pry me’
Blue smiles back, giving them an answer they want to hear.
"Almost."
And of course, like usual, there’s a little flirting here and there from their patients.
Blue usually tunes it out.
They never want to use their appearance intentionally to control or manipulate anyone. It just happens.
But tonight, in their exhaustion, it irritates them more than they realize.
‘Just leave me alone,’ they think, or
‘Seriously? Again?’
The thoughts are buried almost immediately as the smooth-talking voice takes over.
“Of course. Let me take a look.”
Blue smooths down a flyaway tuft of fur on their cheek without thinking, straightens their coat, and smiles gently.
A moment later, Cyan comes prancing into Medbay, a small cut across their palm from handling ore.
“Sharp rock,” they explain sheepishly.
Blue cleans it, wraps a quick bandage around their palm, and sends them on their way.
Before leaving, Cyan places another piece of ore on Blue’s desk.
”I sensed a disruption in your aura! I have another, just in case!”
Blue stares at it.
Their smile twitches.
“...Thank you, Cyan.”
Another patient.
Another problem.
Another smile.
And like usual, Red.
Seriously?
This time, they’re whining about their hands cramping.
Blue knows they’ve been playing video games, even if they tried, and failed, to keep that secret.
Blue could clench their fists.
But their own hands ache right now.
So with a sigh, they assist the captain.
Their visor flutters again, tiredness clinging at them. But Blue persists, blinking hard to keep going.
By eleven, the clock dings.
When had it become eleven?
Blue looks down at their paperwork. The stack is finally finished.
Their tense shoulders sag with relief.
For a moment, they just stare at it.
Then they try to flex their hand.
Their fingers barely cooperate.
They slowly uncurl them from around the pen, one by one. Their knuckles ache, their palm throbs, and their fingers feel stiff from hours of writing.
Blue rubs their hand with the other, wincing slightly.
They'd been writing since ten this morning.
After a moment, they neatly shuffle the papers, and that’s when they hear it.
The vent behind them, there’s a very prominent rustle.
A familiar face pops out.
Lime.
Right.
Blue had been insistent they get their weekly checkup today.
Lime steps out, surprisingly.
Usually, Blue has to coax them out.
As Lime would say, “with their bewitching siren looks.”
Blue barely has time to turn before they feel a brief tap on their shoulder.
“Doc? Hey, I’ve been calling your name. You good?”
Lime asks.
Blue turns in their chair.
How did they miss Lime’s voice?
They put down their paperwork and pen.
“Yes, of course, Lime. My apologies. I’m just a little tired.”
Lime looks at them suspiciously.
Blue continues to smile. A small and polite one that’s set on their face automatically.
“Alright. Please sit on the cot. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
The words fall out naturally. They’ve said that phrase hundreds of times.
Lime does not sit.
Instead, they lean against the wall, hands folded, studying Blue with open skepticism.
“Don’t give me that. You look like you’ve been smacked hard and put away like a wet sock.”
Another strange euphemism.
Blue looks at them in confusion.
Their smile comes back, tightening by a fraction.
“Lime, I assure you, I’m fine.”
Blue reaches to adjust their shirt collar and tie, to bring back their composure. They reach for the pen on their desk.
"If you'd just sit, I can check your—"
"Your hand's shaking.”
Blue stops.
Looks down.
It is.
They curl their fingers into their palm, as if that could hide it.
They set the pen down, a little too carefully.
“You think I can’t see the pain in your face? Your body? Still smiling, huh?”
Lime tilts their head.
“Impressive. I think most would’ve collapsed by now.”
Blue sighs.
Their patience is thinning.
“Lime, I don’t have time for this. Please sit so I can begin your checkup.”
“No.”
Blue pauses.
Then slowly stands.
“Lime, I’m not in the mood for our back and forth talk. So I will not gonna ask again.”
“I’ve been in and outta the vents since lunch.”
Lime's voice drops. Quieter now. Not teasing.
”Nobody's asked you how you are today, have they?"
Blue's mouth opens.
Closes.
Nobody has.
Not once. Not in the whole day, the whole week, maybe longer.
Something bubbles inside them.
"I'm fine—"
“Fine? Perfect Doctor Blue? Don’t make me laugh.”
Lime scoffs, saying it like a title. Like something printed plainly on a door.
"Never tired. Never cranky. Never needs anything. Don’t give me that bullshit. I know you’re not fine, Blue.”
Lime pushes off the wall they're leaning on.
"'Of course, let me take a look.' 'Of course, no trouble at all.' Two hundred pages, no sleep, no lunch, and you said 'of course.' Do you even hear yourself?"
"Lime—"
"Who does that?"
Blue's jaw tightens.
"Someone who has a job to do."
"Someone who's scared."
Silence.
Blue flinches.
Small. Barely there.
Lime catches it. Of course they do.
"There it is."
They step closer, and a finger jabs against Blue's chest. Once. Right over the coat.
"What happens if you slip? Huh? If you snap at Red, if you skip one stupid form, if you say 'no' once?"
"Stop."
"Does the whole ship collapse? Does MIRA come down on you?"
"I said stop."
Blue's breath comes out sharp.
"No."
Lime's voice isn't teasing anymore. It isn't gentle, either.
"I'm not done. I'm never gonna stop until you say something real for once."
Blue's hands are shaking again.
They don't hide them this time.
Their chest heaves, short and ragged, like something cornered.
Lime’s voice becomes firmer.
“So I’m asking. Give me one thing. One thing today that made you really want to scream. To break something!”
Blue is silent for a long moment.
Their fists begin to curl at their sides, even as pain shoots through their tired fingers.
“One thing?”
Their voice comes out, a little colder.
“Yeah. Come on Doc. Tell your patient.”
“Tell you?”
Blue laughs, really laughs for once.
Once.
Twice.
Then more, sounding almost like a snarl.
“Oh, okay!”
Blue finally stands directly in front of Lime, letting out a long, frustrated series of laughs.
"Yeah! Go on," Lime says, still baiting. "I see you holding back. Well, show me! Or are you just afraid?"
Blue clenches their fists tighter, barely noticing the pain in their aching hands.
Something inside them breaks.
“DAMN IT, OKAY! I’LL TELL YOU!”
Their voice echoes through Medbay, with an intense, suffocating yell.
Anger finally comes spilling out all at once, fast and uncontrollable.
“ONE! I haven’t slept properly in DAYS!”
Lime startles.
But Blue keeps going.
“TWO! My fur’s all messed up because of these stupid, insistent emergencies, which, might I add, AREN’T EVEN EMERGENCIES TO BEGIN WITH!”
Blue drags a hand through it, roughly, and doesn't smooth it back.Their voice comes out breathless now.
Their expression no longer composed nor pleasant.
Just angry.
“THREE! I hardly have time to rest in between with ORANGE’S FUCKING PAPERWORK!”
A curse.
It comes out bitter and harsh.
“SO ORANGE, IF YOU WANT TO KILL ME, JUST TELL ME WHILE YOU’RE BREATHING DOWN MY NECK! Because my head is spinning, I feel sick to my stomach, and I CAN’T TAKE IT!”
The numbers fall apart.
Lime backpedals slightly, but they don't interrupt.
“Yeah?” Lime asks.
Their voice is surprisingly calm.
“Tell me more. What else could be wrong?”
Blue grumbles.
And then they start listing.
Everything.
Not just today.
This week.
White and Purple. Always hungover. Always dehydrated. Always coming in for pain medication after ignoring their own limits.
Orange and their damn paperwork.
Green and that mop bucket.
Cyan and their gems.
Yellow and Brown. Always kitchen cuts, little scratches, even the occasional mild burn.
And Yellow is so vocal about it.
Always disturbing Blue when they're engrossed with another patient.
Black...
Black is just Black.
As much as Blue tries to get on good terms with them, they still manage to make some crude remark about them or Cyan under their breath.
And Lime.
Lime themself.
Blue cares about them. Really does.
But with how stubborn they can be, especially with their checkups, it infuriates them.
“And our captain? Oh, I could talk about them for days, weeks! First of all, stop sending Green all over the Skeld! Always tripping and bruising! You know I have to clean up after them!”
“And then you come in after kicking the generator again!”
Blue's voice cracks.
“For what?! It’s the third time this week, you stupid dumbass!”
They breathe heavily.
“God... that really was the cherry on top.”
Silence.
Blue's voice lowers.
”It’s like living in a goddamn swarm. All of you are always buzzing around me, like I’m some sort of fine delicacy? Like I’m just a piece of meat for everyone to pick apart. You can’t solve your own problems, so you come running and crying to me, even for the stupidest little things.”
Blue's voice takes on a mocking, exaggerated tone.
“‘Oh, Blue, help! They were so mean to me!’” They pitch their voice higher, mimicking someone childish. “‘Oh Blue, kiss me, touch me, hold my hand. Praise me, or just look at me just once today so I can fantasize about you!’”
Their voice drops back down.
“‘Blue... I scratched myself yet again!’”
A bitter laugh escapes them.
”And I can’t even swat any of you away, because it’s my job.”
Their voice comes out pained.
”Because it’s who I’m supposed to be…”
Their fists slowly unclench.
“Everyone looks to me. Talks to me.”
Their brow furrows.
“But no one asks how I am.”
They look down sadly.
“They flirt, and I smile, and I'm just... a face.”
A pause.
"I haven't even showered properly in what? Five days? I've been spraying perfume on this coat to cover it up."
Their voice cracks.
"And nobody noticed. They just keep flirting.”
“An attractive coat to them?”
Their voice cracks even more, failing them.
“I'm so tired Lime.”
Blue swallows.
“And I'm so... tired of smiling about it.”
The anger leaves their body almost as quickly as it came.
Their fists unclench completely.
Their shoulders sag.
They stare at the floor.
For a moment, neither of them speaks.
Then—
“Holy shit...”
Blue hears Lime mutter.
Oh no.
Their body goes cold, their face pale.
It hits them a horrifying second later.
No, no, no. This was bad.
Very bad. What were they thinking?
They shouted.
They cursed.
They yelled at a patient so vulgarly.
They showed anger.
How could they?
Blue looks toward Lime, much more afraid.
But Lime has the biggest smug expression Blue has ever seen.
“L-Lime, I’m... I’m terribly sorry. That was very unprofessional and immature of me to raise my voice. I don’t know what I was thinking, and I—”
Their shaky voice starts going a million miles a second.
Until Lime places a finger against their lips.
Blue startles.
Lime hardly ever touches them.
But...
They don't mind it.
“Thanks Doc.”
Lime is still grinning wide.
“You said just what I wanted to hear.”
Blue stares in utter confusion.
“What…?”
“Yep.”
Lime removes their finger.
“I’m damn glad I baited ya.”
They pat Blue lightly on the shoulder.
“You really had all of that inside?”
Lime shakes their head.
“I’m surprised you didn’t crack sooner.”
Blue doesn't know what to say. They were okay with that?
“You're... not upset?”
“Course I’m not upset.”
Lime gestures toward the cot, sitting down.
“Now sit down before you fall over. You look like you’ve been sent to hell.”
Blue hesitates.
“My checkup can wait.”
After a long, anxious moment, Blue reluctantly sits beside them.
For the first time all day, they don't try to smile.
“I’m sorry,” they murmur.
Almost second nature.
Lime sighs and shakes their head.
“Stop apologizin’. I told you... it’s fine.”
They look away.
“I don’t mind when you’re angry.”
Blue pauses.
That surprises them, but they accept it.
And even as they tiredly lean against Lime, Lime doesn't push them away.
Their visor, which has been fighting to stay open all day, finally drifts shut.
They try to relax into the softness beside them.
Letting the anger finally seep out of their body.
“Lime, can I...?”
Blue asks tiredly.
They really want a hug.
But they don't want to make Lime uncomfortable.
Lime sighs.
“Just... come here.”
They hold their hands out, glancing to the side with a hint of nervousness.
Blue slowly hugs them.
They bury their face into Lime's shoulder, closing their visor.
Their coat is rumpled against Lime's shoulder, fur a mess, perfume faded.
And they don’t fix it.
They don't have to smile.
They don't have to pretend be Doctor Blue.
Maybe, just maybe...
Anger wasn't something they had to keep pushing down insistingly.
Maybe it was safe to show, to know their own limitations.
Safe to be something other than perfect.