It’s often said that Doctors make the worst patients. Lavender Haigh was, fortunately not one of those patients. After taking on the chiefdom of the Denver’s Medical Department Captain Talon had told her to speak to a counselor about her experiences in the Jem’hadar prison and after what happened with Arin, it seemed like a fairly good idea, not even beginning to mention that it was something Lavender was going to do anyway.

“Computer, time?” 

“The time is now thirteen fifty five hours.”

Lavender rose from the chair in the C.M.O.’s office, her office, and made her way out of Sickbay.

“I have a meeting,” she explained to the senior doctor on duty. “Call if there’s an emergency.” 

Lavender couldn’t help wondering about the content of her forthcoming session with the Counsellor as she was wondering the corridors of the Denver. She hoped rather than expected it to be impactful, not because of a lack of efficacy on the part of the Counsellor, more that Lavender felt she was very broken indeed. This would probably take some time but it was a start and it covered her ass should things go to hell. She pressed the door chime immediately upon arriving.

Emimi Qetax rose from behind her desk when the door chime went off. The desk was not as big and impressive as some of hers had been over the years, but then again those were not her desks any longer. They belonged to past hosts, and their memories were entirely irrelevant to the desk at hand where she was setting down a PADD.

”Come please,” she said knowing that based off the timing it was likely the Chief Medical Officer a Doctor Haigh. Qetax’s department was separate but related, and so the two had opportunities to discuss patients and their files, but did not know each other socially.  The doors slid open and Qetax smiled at the Doctor, “Hello, glad you could make it.” 

Lavender moved quickly into the room and waited for the doors to woosh closed before speaking. She even watched them close. She had no particular scruples about being seen entering the Counsellor’s office but she definitely wanted the content to remain private. This was the slightly toned-down work version of Lavender, no lip rings, a more neutral dark shade lipstick and eyes and her hair in a messy bun, up out of the way of proceedings.

“I could use your help,” she said thoughtfully, straight to the point as ever. “Do I sit? Lie down? What do I do here?”

”Whatever makes you most comfortable. I could bring in climbing equipment, I believe you call them ‘jungle gyms’ for some reason,” the Counselor smiled. She sat in a comfortable chair and gestured to the couch, “But sit down Doctor, or lay down if you prefer. You seem less… vibrant than you usually do more stereotypical, or am I just imagining things.” Lavender took a chair and crossed her legs, rotating her flying ankle in a nervous motion.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Lavender smirked. “I tend to tone it down for duty shifts, for the patients, don’t want to scare the little darlings now do we…? The lack of lip rings at work is more for me, nothing grabbable or snaggable.” Lavender made a face, imagining the result.

”Well it’s a good thing you’re not a pediatrician,” the Counselor said and smiled, imagining children being always grabbing whatever shiny thing that was in their line of sight. She studied the Doctor and leaned forward slightly, interested. Doctors, they said, made the worst patients. That was likely true, because while she would never try to mend her own arm, a doctor felt themselves qualified to muck around in the head on occasion.

”Now please Doctor, tell me what brings you in today?” she asked. Lavender read off her symptoms like a checklist on a patient’s medical record.

“Post-traumatic stress from my incarceration by the Jem’hadar. Nightmares every night of being thrown in solitary, daytime flashbacks usually brought on by aural or visual stimuli, general anxiety, increased alcohol consumption, irritability, self-imposed social segregation, the usual.”

The Chief Counselor nodded. She had read of her colleague’s time at the hands of the Jem’hadar, and she hoped that the woman was not looking for an easy fix. There were no quick fixes, not with something as delicate like that.

”I believe in the healing power of talking Doctor,” Qetax explained, “So tell me about, well let’s begin with the visual or aural stimuli. What sort of things, and be as exhaustive as you’d like, bring about flashbacks?”

Lavender nodded and girded her soul for the recount.

“Um…” this was not a word Lavender used often. “Doors closing, metallic noises, sudden noises, if things are too quiet, sudden or unannounced touches, shouting… cleaning my teeth… I think that’s most of it.”

Qetax smiled sympathetically, “I could see how that could be difficult. Particularly on a starship like this. I will ensure I announce any touches I do. Now when are you most at peace, calm?” Lavender thought about this.

“I mean… I’m not? Really…?” She responded. “When other people are around I guess.”

So people were both a major reason she was having, what stuck Qetax as post-traumatic-stress-syndrome and the cure for it. Such contradictions were not unheard of.

”I’d to try a calming exercise, and I promise I won’t touch you. But Doctor, can you close your eyes and take some deep breaths for me, and just relax a bit,” Qetax said. At the very least if she could help the other woman feel comfortable.

“Alright…” Lavender did as she was told. Her long, false eyelashes closed on her pale cheeks and her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. She listened to the hum of the life support system.

The trill had theories on what was the issue with Lavender but she needed to talk to her more. She did not think that the other woman was holding back, just not fully aware of what was going on. “Now when you open your eyes imagine we’re having a chat in the forward lounge. We’re surrounded by people, your friends who make you most comfortable, most relaxed. They can’t hear us, it’s too loud in here, but you can imagine they’re here, okay?”

“Okay.” Lavender didn’t have much in the way of friends these days. Most of them were long gone, in the far reaches of the fleet, or dead. But she imagined Arin on a nearby table entertaining some people with her Irish charm.

”Your friends are a source of comfort to you, so relax and tell me about one or two of them,” the Counselor said, “Just the good things, what makes them so important to you?”

Emimi Qetax was hopeful that if not a cure, a cure was not something she typically aimed for, she could at least help the woman build a scaffolding of support, a way of navigating the world and dealing with the pain and stresses that she felt and continuing on.

“One or two is right…” Lavender said quickly. I’m not exactly popular, I give it to people way too straight for their egos to handle. Of those who didn’t hate me and called me ‘friend’, most of them were on the Manitoba. That… exploded,” Lavender swallowed. Her voice wavered as she said the word. “…and… I have some old acquaintances… this is confidential, right?”

Qetax nodded, “Unless you’re presenting a danger to yourself, this crew, or this ship it’s confidential and I don’t see anything that would lead me to think that any of those situations are in any way a factor here.”

She knew that often people could be more open once they understood both her rules around sharing the information they gave her, and her few obligations. While Lavender did not seem to be a danger in the event that it seemed clear that she was presenting a danger to the ship Qetax could need to tell the Captain. That had never occurred in all her years doing this. Lavender nodded.

“Well if I’m telling you about people who make me comfortable, I’d tell you about Arin Jones. She and I are… something… to one-another. She’s pretty much the only person in the galaxy who’s still alive and more than an acquaintance. And who I actually like of course.” Lavender switched which leg was crossed over the other nervously. Relationships between officers wasn’t against regulations to her recollection but it was a delicate subject and the two of them hadn’t got much past the fact they liked one-another.

”Sometimes it helps having a person who is special to you around,” Qetax said, “As Emimi I’ve never had that, but I’m seen people who learn to draw strength from someone close to them. A different kind of bonding. There is not a right way to get over something like this, so in some ways you must find your own source of strength. I can and will help you but ultimately it is you who must take the first and hardest steps towards healing.”

”This is an imperfect start, but an imperfect start is still a start,” the Trill said.

Lavender nodded and closed her eyes again, imagining the setting Emimi had detailed. The lounge, a comfortable place, Arin nearby being Irish and charming. She took a deep breath.

“Arin… is important to me because she sees me. Really sees me, not just the makeup and the bravado but she sees the reason behind it all and she doesn’t judge it. She knows that it comes from pain, it’s a badge of honour, it’s very personal, she’s been judged her entire career and so have I. She takes the piss out of it, me and everyone and so do I. She’s fun and she’s hot and she’s not got a stick up her ass. Good combo.”

Qetax nodded, not wanting to interrupt. It had been lifetimes since she had a friend like that, but that was not the point, she was not the subject of this meeting. It was good that Lavender had someone like that in her life, but the trouble with a war was no one person could be your source of strength, since it was too easy to lose them. Even during peace time such a proposition would be worrisome, but this was was brutal and the Dominion did not care about civilians or Starfleet, or whatever.

”It sounds like a great combo,” she said agreeing, “how do you feel when you’re around her versus now?” Lavender dook a deep breath.

“When I’m around her I feel confident, supported, a little apprehensive but… more at ease. When I’m not… anxious. I… don’t want to be alone.” This last phrase was stated with some emotion, it was a statement more important than those that had preceded.

”Well you’re not alone,” Qetax said, “And while I can’t promise you that Arin Jones will always be within reach, as long as you’re on the Denver with me I’ll be there. I probably can’t fill her shoes, but I’ll listen and I’ll be there for you.”

”I am sure there are many on the crew who would tell you the same thing,” Qetax said. Lavender exhaled a little too quickly.

“Thanks,” she said. She was sincere, but being there for a colleague was one thing, a friend quite another. Images flashed in her mind, of colleagues past, now gone, of friends now dead, of the wreck of the Manitoba as she had flown away from it, of course she had never even seen the wreck, it was morbid curiosity that had driven her to watch the security footage from the ship that rescued her. Lavender scrunched her eyes for a moment and tried to vanish all thoughts of the ship from her mind.

  “To set expectations this is not something that gets cured in a single session. This may not be something we ever ‘cure’ in the medical sense of the word like a broken arm. But with work we will learn, together, how you best manage it and move forward,” Qetax said, “Do you have any questions or anything else we should address?”

Lavender shook her head.

“No, no, just the crippling scary nightmares and flashbacks,” she said with her usual sarcasm and wry manner.

The Trill nodded and smiled, clocking the sarcasm in the statement, “Well all in due course. Thank you for visiting with me today, I look forward to speaking to you more.”

“Right…” Lavender nodded, frowning. “Yeah me too. Seeya.” She pushed off from the chair and headed out of the door. “Have a good, afternoon, day, whatever,” she offered as she moved out into the light of the corridor and was gone.