text (un: simmons)

[lifescience]

Hello everyone. This is Jemma Simmons. I don't come with any news or even warnings really, just more of a general reminder.

A reminder that whatever you do, please be careful doing it. Things are happening every day, and we still obviously have a lot to learn. This is an alien planet, and we have to assume that everything here will continue to try to kill us.

We've done incredibly well. But I know we don't want to lose anyone.

Anyway, that's it. As always, if I can be of any assistance, or if you're injured, please see me as soon as possible. Thank you.

Oh, and Clarke. I'm ready to get started at your convenience.

Comments

[lifescience]

[By the time she exhales, Jemma realizes her mistake. The voice isn't exact, neither is the face. A little younger, a little less...Ward, which has become an adjective all its own.

She reaches her hands out, empty.]

Of course. I'm sorry, I was...distracted. [Jemma shakes her head and smiles at him again.] It was all my fault. Please, come in. I don't think I caught your name.

[onewithfido]

[A-aha. Well, at least she's not still freaking out.

Come on, Mike, you're supposed to be a lady killer. He gives a little smile.]

The name's Mike. [... Ummmm. He glances down where he has his maimed hand tucked away, and then rubs his arm with his good one.] Was hoping to get penciled in for that doctor's appointment?

[lifescience]

Mike, please. Please, let's take a look at it.

[She gestures him closer, trying to put him at ease after she so obviously wasn't. It's enough to keep her glancing at him, but at least now she's looking for differences instead of similarities.]

You said you'd lost a couple of fingers?

[onewithfido]

[He gives a slight nod, hesitating for a moment. She's still kind of off around him, and he can't pinpoint why, but — well, he's at least distracted from that by the question. With a wince, he slowly pulls his hand out from where he'd kept it tucked away. It's still wrapped, but in light bandaging; it's been long enough that it's not swaddled anymore. It's clear that his left-hand pinky and ring finger are completely missing all the way up to the second knuckle, the hand shivering slightly. But the wounds are closed up, scar tissue pinkish and heavy and healing.

Mike's not a doctor, doesn't understand how it works, but...]

I think it's okay. I mean, I think it's healing, but I wanted to make sure it was healing right. It's been hurting a lot. Mostly when it's cold. And — it feels like all the fingers are crazy weak, you know...? Like, picking stuff up. It just feels stiff and weird. I don't know. I was worried there was a way for it to heal weird to make it cramp up like this.

[He's rambling, rubbing the back of his head with his good hand.

Up close, there's an obvious set of slashes across his neck, now shiny scars.]

[lifescience]

You did the right thing.

[His hand is a good distraction, a way of setting her back to normal. She guides him over to where the light is better and starts unwrapping his hand for a better look.]

There's no exposed bone. Doesn't seem to be infected. How long ago did you say this happened?

[Jemma looks up at him, and gives him a smile in hopes of reassuring.]

An injury like this could take months, even a year. But we can try some physical therapy. That would likely ease the stiffness and give us a better idea of any permanent nerve damage.

[onewithfido]

[Snort.]

Doing the right thing would have been keeping my fingers, but thanks.

[Stupid wendigo trap.]

It happened, um... about three weeks ago? Tried to keep it clean. One of the other doctor ladies around here helped me out with stitching and bandaging, and all that.

[The stitches are out now, though, so that's a plus? Right?

No infection trapped in there.]

It really jacks your hand up that much? Losing parts of a finger?

[He feels stupid. Of course it matters. Great.]