1x1 -- Curious and Stormy

[Curious]

Chyhir nodded quietly as he listened to Scott's musings. When the taller man laughed, his deep voice resonating in the compact medical bay, he bit his bottom lip. His voice was just...such a lovely sound, especially when he was laughing like that. He'd never laughed in front of him before and it was sweet--shockingly so. He didn't have any idea what he was missing out on. What's more, his words were just as sweet.
"Well...I'm...glad you think I'm alright, as is. I don't think I'm necessarily suited for this kind of life, though, and I don't doubt that I actually will end up growing naturally. I'm not exactly strong, either." Far from it. He was slim and slightly bony, with very little body fat or muscle mass. He'd been working on increasing the fats in his diet for a while.
"Do you want to sleep for a while? You seem pretty sleepy and I don't want to keep you up?" His almost motherly expression of worry returned yet again.

[stormy tom]

Scott sighed and lay back down, eyes lids already on their way shut as his body fought off whatever he'd managed to catch. "Don't worry, I'm sure there are a few things I could teach you. I can ask Halia to let you join in one of my lessons. We can do our best to give you some skills that might help you defend yourself. We will protect you though, Chyhir."
But Chyhir was right. He needed some more rest. He was absolutely exhausted, and his fever wasn't going to go down without a fair bit of rest, nor would his leg heal as quickly if he walked around on it.
Rest was clearly the best route to take right now, and there was currently no risk of anything going seriously wrong. They were a long way away from danger, as well as their next mission. Sam had the controls, and Chyhir was looking after Scott. The blonde was in good hands. He felt totally safe lying back down and getting comfortable under his blankets.

[Curious]

Chyhir watched as Scott grew sleepier and sleepier in front of his eyes. His eyelids resembled loading bars moving downward.
Okay, I can't resist it any longer, I have to do it. Who cares if it's embarrassing? He's practically unconscious, anyway.
He stood up and sat on Scott's bedside again, leaning over him slightly. He reached out, tentatively at first, and ran his fingers through his blond locks. His touch was light at first, likely very subtle on Scott's end, but with each stroke his fingers buried deeper into his hair. His hand swept back and forth, back and forth, fingertips brushing his scalp.
I probably look like a mother tending to her sick child right now. Oh well. Nobody else is looking and I doubt Scott minds it.
"Is this alright?" he asked in a soft voice as to not startle him.

[stormy tom]

Scott was vaguely aware of Chyhir approaching him, of the gentle touch than only aided his descent into the land of sleep. He mumbled his approval of Chyhir's touch, allowing him to continue as the he drifted off into a peaceful and deep sleep.

The captain slept for a few more hours, his fever peaking, but starting to gradually descend again, never once reaching a dangerous level, but a high number all the same. He slept peacefully, and mostly unmoving, as usual, his body taking full advantage of the rest.
The crew left him mostly alone, knowing the captain would generally be locked away in his room otherwise. Sam and Halia each popped their heads in once of twice just to check in, but returned to what they were doing, leaving the doctor to look after their captain. Clearly, the pair were quite content to be left alone together.

[Curious]

While Scott was resting, Chyhir spent his time tidying up the medical bay and cleaning some of the tools that clearly hadn't been used for quite some time as well as checking Scott's temperature now and then. As he sat disinfecting a surgical saw, he contemplated where his life on the ship would end up going. It could head in any direction, clearly, and he wasn't quite used to that sort of thing. In fact, he was more accustomed to the opposite, having lived a fairly predictable life thus far. Until he met Scott, that is.
Scott said he and the crew would look after me... I hope he meant that. I'm sure it's clear to everyone that I'm pretty helpless when it comes to self-defense, so at least I know they likely won't be leaving me to my own devices on missions in the future. I wonder what kind of people live on this ship and how they came to join Scott, especially Sam. They're such an odd pair and so close...I wish I had a friend like that.
He lifted his gaze from his work to the sleeping blond across the room.
I hope he'll be alright. The rest of the crew seems a little put off by how shaken he is, so he must not often be affected by missions to this extent very often. Tough guy, huh... Not that that's a surprise.

[stormy tom]

Scott awoke many hours later, looking much better. He was still a little warm, but seemed to have mostly recovered. The blonde sat up and pushed the blankets off of his body, swinging his legs around and placing bare feet on the floor. He took an experimental step, unbalanced by his fever and injured leg. Very quickly the blonde reached for the support of the bed.
The captain reached for his blankets and wrapped them around himself, bleary-eyed but coming around. He gave his eyes a rub, and felt his forehead while he was at it.
Ah, Chyhir, he suddenly remembered the smaller doctor, quickly hopping back into the bed so he could get the clear to get up from him instead of self-diagnosing as he usually did. "Sorry, doctor, wasn't thinking," he muttered, touching his leg. It was a little stiff, but that could be walked out when Chyhir deemed the injury to be healed enough.

[Curious]

Chyhir perked up at the sound of movement, setting his surgical saw aside and standing.
"Hey, Scott, no walking, come on," he scolded lightly, "I told you this already."
He walked across the room with his arms folded over his stomach, watching as he settled back into his bed.
It didn't occur to him at that time, but he would later think back on that moment and remember how obedient his own captain was to him, as though he held some sort of position of power over him outside their ranks. Respect, perhaps?
"It's alright, you're still recovering and your brain is probably kind of fuzzy right now." He knelt down to inspect his leg. "It looks like you're doing good! I don't recommend walking just yet, but you'll be back on your feet soon, in a few days or so, I'd say."

[stormy tom]

Scott reluctantly lay back, wincing at the movement. If he'd had things his way he'd be limping around the ship like a trouper. He forced any negatives to being confined to a bed out of his mind, replacing them with gratefulness. Chyhir was just trying to look after him and make sure healed properly. It would take some getting used to.
"If you won't let me out of bed would you find me something to eat?" Scott pleaded. "Anything will do." His stomach had finally caught up to him, realising it was hopelessly empty. He wrapped the blankets tightly around his body, getting comfortable again. More rest couldn't be too bad.
Scott was used to moving almost constantly, but it was good practise to keep still for a while. An unfamiliar practise under these circumstances, yes, but everyone had to start somewhere.

[Curious]

"Sure thing. I'll be right back."
Chyhir swept out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. He scanned the selections of food. He wasn't familiar with some of the items there, but he did recognize the Earth fruit that both he and Scott enjoyed. Settling on a couple of those, he headed back to the medical bay with one in each hand.
"I don't know what else you would like, so I got these. If you want something else or something more, just let me know." He strode over and set the pair of fruits in Scott's lap. "What were they called again? I'm not sure if you told me...but I remember liking them."
Chyhir sat down across from him again, crossing his legs as usual. He had a habit of sitting like that since he found the position most comfortable. Even while sleeping, his legs had the tendency to curl around him. Perhaps it was an instinctual thing, to preserve what little warmth his body provided.
"Would you like me to ask Sam to visit you or something, by the way? I figure you must be getting tired of only having my company."

[stormy tom]

Scott waited a short time for Chyhir to bring him back a couple of apples. He smiled and got to eating straight away. "Apples," he reminded Chyhir. Adorable.
"I don't mind your company at all," Scott replied. "Sam's probably busy anyway. He knows more about flying ships and navigation than I do. I wouldn't mind making sure everything is doing alright up there however."
Scott hated to be carried but he wasn't sure if Chyhir would let him out of bed to pop his head into the cockpit. Maybe if the smaller man supported some of his weight so he didn't have to strain his leg, but he was quite sure the doctor would prefer he not walk at all. And that meant calling Sam to scoop him up and take him where he needed to go.
"Maybe some more pillows if you don't mind," he added. "You can take them from my room. It's not locked." Scott wouldn't mind being propped a little higher instead of lying so flat. He had to sit up anyway to eat his apple, and the dramatic change of elevation didn't help his headache. Scott didn't even like to sleep on his back, and certainly not for so long. It made his neck, hips and knees sore, especially so right now with his leg injury. "Unless it would be better to just transfer straight to my room," he suggested. "But I'll take your recommendation."
He didn't mind wherever the doctor wanted him. He wouldn't even mind if Chyhir kept him company in his room either.