02. I have not Served a Patient to the Utmost of my Ability

[bestsir]

[ Within an hour or so of the ship being restored, this goes up. Harry writes quickly, particularly when he feels it's urgent. ]

I do not deserve it, but I humbly beg Forgiveness of each of you, for subjecting you to the Horrors of my own Guilt made manifest in that most dreadful of Nightmares.

I am sorriest in particular for what I, possessed by a Nightmare Soul, perpetuated against Mr. Dorian Gray and Miss Trixie, and I do not know what manner of Amends I may make. Mr. Gray was tortured terribly at my hands in the Pursuit of Scientific Inquiry, which in no way excuses my Crimes and indeed only renders them all the more Reprehensible. I treated Miss Trixie in a cold, High-Handed manner that she did not deserve, for she was only attempting to come to my Aid. It is She I have to thank for restoring me to my Senses, and I believe all should be grateful to her for that.

To everyone I owe some manner of Explanation.

My brother and I were students of one Dr. Robert Knox, notorious in Edinburgh for his association with the infamous Murderers, Burke and Hare. My brother always believed him Innocent of any Complicity, and perhaps he was, but I think I always harboured a certain Dread that one day my own Passion for Knowledge would overtake my Morals, just as may or may not have occurred with Knox.

Before I woke here, in this Dream-world, I was in the last extremity of the Arctic expedition, and there I committed certain Deeds that I regret to this very Moment. I permitted myself to be coerced into desecrating a Body at the behest of a Villain of the highest degree—the purpose being to prepare the poor man's flesh for Consumption—after which I engineered my own Death so as to also encompass that Villain's Destruction as well. When the Tuunbaq attacked us last week, I believed it was a Punishment for which I had been waiting all along. I dare say that it has been apparent to all that I have not been well since then—since some time before then, perhaps. In the depths of my Guilt and Self-Recrimination, I believed I had become that which I feared—a Beast on the order of the one who destroyed me, a Monster without Humanity.

Whilst I still have much to Repent, I believe I see Matters more clearly now. I am sorry—most deeply sorry—for not having sought Help before, and for inflicting the Events of the last Three Days upon you all.

If there are any Questions you would like to ask, I am at your disposal.

Sincerely and with great regret,
HDS Goodsir
Surgeon, HMS Terror

[ After writing this, Harry resists the natural urge to hole up in the sick bay again and instead ventures out into the galley, ready for anyone who wants to talk to him. He is also fully expecting Dorian Gray to beat him within an inch of his life, and while he'd prefer if that didn't happen, he can't really blame the man. He just hopes that someone will be around to at least stop him from getting murdered outright. ]

Comments

[brushoff]

That's not enough.

[ And that's all Dorian writes to Harry! Because the moment after he writes that, he sets down his journal and storms off, intent on finding Harry, with a look of absolute murder in his eyes. ]

[bestsir]

Harry hears him coming and takes off his glasses and puts them on a shelf where they are unlikely to get smashed.

[brushoff]

When Dorian finds Harry, he gives the man a tight and tense smile. And then, without saying a word, he storms over to the surgeon and swings a punch directly at his face.

[bestsir]

Harry is sitting at a bench in the galley in full view of anyone who might be watching. This may be a self-protective measure as much as anything else. At Dorian's approach, he gets to his feet, resigning himself to the inevitable.

He's no fighter, but he expected the punch and gets his hands up to try and deflect the blow. It's not wholly successful and the punch gets him hard on the cheek, making him see stars sending him sprawling to the floor, where he instinctively curls up to protect his face and body as much as he can. What he isn't doing is resisting or fighting back. All he really cares about at this point is that his teeth stay in his head.

[brushoff]

Dorian also isn't a fighter. But what he lacks in fighting skills, he makes up for in sheer viciousness and determination. When Harry goes down, Dorian doesn't stop. He kicks at Harry, hoping to kick him in the solar plexus but honestly fine as look as his foot meets flesh.

[bestsir]

The kick hits Harry in the stomach, making him curl up more tightly on himself like frightened isopod.

[kingsroads]

[ blissfully unaware of all the drama, Strange chimes in to offer support! ]

There is no need to apologize. You did not choose to change the ship, ergo you did nothing wrong. Besides, it hard to realize when one needs help. I daresay it is easier for an outside party to realize and harder for the afflicted person to accept the truth.

J.S.

[bestsir]

I am most grateful for your Understanding. I know your own Knowledge has been hard won in turn. Thank you.

HDSG

[kingsroads]

You are welcome. It is knowledge that I could not have achieved without the patience and steadfastness of others. The least I can do is share the same with you.

Though I do wonder. If I may be bold, it seems that your change of the dream was due to your fears. Mine was due to my desires. I wonder what other ways there are to change the dream so thoroughly?

J.S.

[bestsir]

Perhaps any powerful Emotion will affect the Dream. Fear and Desire we now know. I shudder to think of the Effect that Hatred might have.

HDSG

[kingsroads]

Whereas I hope that when this inevitably happens again, we enter a dream based on Love.

J.S.

Private

[heyboss]

Mr. Goodsir, I should give you an apology of my own. I saw that you were unwell, like most of your friends did, but it was too late, I think. But know that you have many here who support you, and you can rely on them for it.

Re: Private

[bestsir]

Thank you, Dr. Sheehan. Please believe I bear you no Ill-Will—I doubt there was very much that any one person might have done.

Re: Private

[heyboss]

No, no. But please tell me that you'll keep in mind what I said. It's the same advice I offered to Mr. Strange. Rely on your friends. Your relationships here. They are stronger than you believe them to be, and they're the only thing we have that's consistent.

Re: Private

[bestsir]

I understand. It is true: I have Isolated myself very much these last several Weeks. I shall be sure not to now.

Private

[goingtobeunwell]

You are no beast, and I am grateful that you finally see it that way, Mr. Goodsir.

Re: Private

[bestsir]

I understand now what you were trying to tell me in the Camp at the end.

No man is only his own Worst Deeds.

Re: Private

[goingtobeunwell]

Yes, Mr. Goodsir, that's precisely it.

Re: Private

[bestsir]

Speaking of Foul Deeds—I expect you are aware by now that Mr Gray and I Are at Odds?

I could not be more sorry for what happened to him, but I do not begrudge his Anger. I shall keep as clear of him as I can.

Re: Private

[goingtobeunwell]

I've already spoken to him, and been reassured that he does not intend you anymore harm. However, I do think it wise to stay away from him as best you can.

[spookylikeafox]

Hey, Doc, that was a wild ride. But where are you in time? Do you still use opium? Laudanum? Cocaine? Because I got shot and I'm all out of aspirin. I think it'll be fine, but if you've got the hard stuff, I won't complain.

[bestsir]

[ What even. ]

If you have been Shot, come to the sick bay. I shall treat you there.

[spookylikeafox]

Mulder had mostly been joking, but he did need something to take the edge off. And so he limped down to sick bay, hoping to find the doctor doing something.

Hey Doc?

[bestsir]

He'll find Harry sitting at his desk; there's a nasty bruise below his left eye that is turning into a proper black eye, and even though his collar is up and neckcloth straight, there's some reddish marks just visible on his neck. Nevertheless he rises to greet Mulder.

"Let me see—what happened?"

[spookylikeafox]

"Shot," he explains, looking over at him carefully, taking in the bruises and marks. "And then a very tall man with rough hands and absolutely no bedside manner dug the bullet out. But it doesn't seem infected." A pause as he sits and pulls up his pant leg to reveal the bandaged calf. "What happened to you?"