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Description
Spoiler warnings for chapters five and six of the game!  Ye have been warned!

Trauma Center: Illness
Derek: Seasick

Derek had never been on a ship before.  Rafts and small fishing boats, sure, but an actual ocean bound ship was something entirely new.  He was never one for travel and he had already known he did not like planes.  The flights were always long and the couch was small and cramped.  Compared to that, plus the airline security and other hassles, he was somewhat looking forward to this means of traveling.  It certainly could not be any worse than flying, right?

Wrong.

“. . .Uhhhnn. . . .this . . .sucks. . .”

Derek grimaced as another wave of nausea overtook him.  Crumpled against the side railing of the deck, he placed a hand over his churning stomach and tried to keep his gaze fixed on the horizon.  Fresh air and watching the sea line was supposed to help with seasickness, but obviously not in this case.

“Dr. Stiles!  What’s wrong?”

Great . . . Angie saw him.  That had to look good; a doctor keeling over the side of a ship and about to vomit his guts out.  Not that he was expecting her to criticizing him for it, but he would have preferred to not have his assistant see him like that.

“Does your stomach hurt?”

“No . . . I just. . . . ug . .”

The hand that had been holding his stomach flew to his mouth as his muscles tensed.  He gripped the railing tightly with his other hand, leaning over it and fighting to keep down what his body was so desperate to reject.  Angie was at his side in a flash, rubbing his back gently as he continued to keep from retching.  Several minutes passed before the nausea finally subsided, leaving Derek gasping for air.  He slowly lowered his forehead against the rail, indulging as the cool metal provided some relief.

“Seasick, are you?”  Angie stated, as there was no question about the doctor’s condition.  He sighed and nodded as best he could from his position.  He closed his eyes as his organs continued to twist sickeningly inside him, but the feeling of Angie’s warm hand against his back eased that somewhat.  Continuing the impromptu massage, Angie said “I know you hadn’t left the country before we went to Africa, but I would have figured you had at least gone on a ferry.  You lived in California your whole life, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly,” Derek paused to grit his teeth as a cramp bit his stomach.  “I was born in New Mexico.”

“Hmm, you prefer land to sea, then?”

“Y-yeah, somethin’ like that . . . . ugh . . .”

There was no stopping this one.  The partially digested remains from lunch that day had come screaming up Derek’s esophagus before he even had a chance to fight back.  Angie continued rubbing his back as he threw up, sympathy written in her eyes.  After an agonizing two minutes, Derek slumped over the railing in clear exhaustion, but his innards refused to calm down.  His stomach grumbled irately in response to the nausea and having been violently emptied by it, but the dizziness had passed for the time being.

“Let’s get you below deck.”

Angie did not wait for a protest or affirmative response before draping Derek’s arm over her shoulder and pulling him up.  “Won’t that just make the motion sickness worse?” Derek mumbled but feebly followed Angie’s lead.

“Not if you lie down and close your eyes.  I’ve been on my share of ships, so I have a lot of experience with seasickness.”  For a brief moment, Angie had entertained the idea of taking Derek to the onboard infirmary, but decided the private quarters Director Miller had arranged for them would be a wiser choice.  It would not look very good for the only licensed surgeon on the vessel to be held up in the medical wing.  Once they made their way inside, Derek all but collapsed onto the cot.

“Are you okay?”

“Mm, yeah, just dizzy again.”

“Close your eyes and rest.  I’ll go get some ginger tea.”

Derek complied, closing his eyes and sighing as he heard Angie’s footsteps wander off to a corner of the room, then return to his bedside.  He heard her place something on the floor next to the head of the cot.  “Here’s a bucket, just in case.”
“. . .Thanks . .” he replied drowsily as her footsteps retreated towards the door.

-----

It had taken Angie a bit longer to return than she would have preferred.  Between finding the kitchen, brewing the tea, and the travel to and from, she guessed it had taken her about 45 minutes.  She made no effort to hasten her pace as the last thing she wanted was to spill the hot liquid, but she was hoping to get back to Derek before he got sick again.  As she carefully entered the room, she was relieved to see him just as she had left him and the bucket resting undisturbed at his bedside.

“Dr. Stiles, are you feeling better?”

She carefully placed the cup on a nightstand, frowning slightly when he did not respond.  “Dr. Stiles?  Are you awake?”  He remained silent, breathing slowly and steadily.  He was unmistakably asleep.  Angie sighed slightly as she covered the cup with a cloth to keep the warmth in.  He fell asleep with his glasses on.  After a quick debate as to whether or not she should risk waking him, she carefully removed his glasses.  She felt her heart skip a beat as his soft bangs brushed against her fingers.  Her face heat up as she swallowed and placed the glasses on the table.  Wh-what am I blushing for?

Angie found herself unable to answer as she continued to watch Derek’s sleeping form.  She did not know why she was staring at him like that, watching his barely parted lips slowly drink in shallow breaths.  She had not seen him sleep so soundly since he had passed out from using the Healing Touch one too many times.  She recalled that day, remembering how her body filled with panic as she and Dr. Kasal watched him crumple to the OR floor.  Greg quickly checked his vitals and ordered Angie to retrieve a floor doctor and a gurney.  She had rushed off in a flash, her professional experience failing her as she frantically flagged down assistance.  She could barely decipher the flurry of actions that followed as she lead the medics back towards the OR and they wheeled Derek to a vacant hospital room.  Once the dust had settled from the chaos, she could clearly remember standing by his bedside just as she was now, watching him breath slowly.

It was three days before he opened his eyes again.  Angie felt a smile tug at her lips as she recalled when he had finally awoken.  He was surprised when Dr. Kasal had told him how long he had been unconscious but Derek’s concern was not directed towards himself, or what he had missed while he slept, but rather towards his patients.  Just like a real doctor . . .

Since that day she had felt her trust and respect for him grow.  Through the hardships they faced, she found herself seeing him as more than a doctor and colleague.  He was a friend.  A good friend.  He was there for her in her greatest time of need, and . . .

My heart’s racing!

Angie did not even notice her hand moving until she felt her fingers gently brush through Derek’s hair.  She tensed, feeling her face ignite and heart rate explode, but her hand continued to tenderly pet his locks and Derek did not so much as stir.  She sighed and relaxed slowly, then not-so-reluctantly conceded as well.  She smiled and brushed his bangs back to admire his face sans glasses.  He almost looked like a different person without them.  She lifted her hand slowly, letting his hair pour through her fingers, and carefully moved to stroke his cheek.  She bit back a small laugh as she felt the tiniest hint of stubble scrape across her fingers and crouched beside the cot.  Looks like you’re going to have to shave again soon, Derek.

Angie continued to brush her fingers back and forth over his face, feeling herself grow lightheaded as her body took in deep but silent breaths.  She froze without precursor, feeling her breaths become more rapid.  For several minutes she could only stare at the man resting before her.  She felt her lips part longingly, slowly moving in . . . .

No . . .

She jerked away as quietly as she could and stood up, forcing her body to calm.  Remember where you are, Angie.  You have a serious mission ahead of you.  She turned towards the opposite wall and controlled her breathing.  I should let him rest.  I’ll check on him again in fifteen minutes to make sure he’s okay.  Hurried footsteps took her to the door as her heart continued to hammer.  Besides, I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that.  He’s a surgeon and I’m his assistant.  He’s my friend . . .

The blush began to bleed from Angie’s face as she reached the deck.  What was she thinking?  They were on their way to get rid of Delphi and GUILT once and for all.  There was no time for this . . . foolishness!  Dr. Stiles was seasick and he would not be able to operate if he were still ill by the time they arrived.  She had to help him get better, not  . . . . do whatever it was she was doing!  “The ginger tea will help him.” she said to herself, calming her nerves.  “I should probably make sure he eats something before we move in.  Wouldn’t want him operating on an empty stomach . . .”

That’s more like it.  Act like a nurse!

She made her way towards the railing and gripped it tightly.  Holding back emotions was hard, but she could not allow them to compromise the mission.  She had managed to hold together during the confrontation with her father.  This should have been nothing in comparison.

“I told him I wanted to be here for him, as his assistant, and today, that’s all I am.”  She sighed.  “His assistant . . .”

She could not think of him like that.  After all, he was only a friend.

A good friend . . . .

Description
Spoiler warnings for chapters five and six of the game!  Ye have been warned!

Trauma Center: Illness
Derek: Seasick

Derek had never been on a ship before.  Rafts and small fishing boats, sure, but an actual ocean bound ship was something entirely new.  He was never one for travel and he had already known he did not like planes.  The flights were always long and the couch was small and cramped.  Compared to that, plus the airline security and other hassles, he was somewhat looking forward to this means of traveling.  It certainly could not be any worse than flying, right?

Wrong.

“. . .Uhhhnn. . . .this . . .sucks. . .”

Derek grimaced as another wave of nausea overtook him.  Crumpled against the side railing of the deck, he placed a hand over his churning stomach and tried to keep his gaze fixed on the horizon.  Fresh air and watching the sea line was supposed to help with seasickness, but obviously not in this case.

“Dr. Stiles!  What’s wrong?”

Great . . . Angie saw him.  That had to look good; a doctor keeling over the side of a ship and about to vomit his guts out.  Not that he was expecting her to criticizing him for it, but he would have preferred to not have his assistant see him like that.

“Does your stomach hurt?”

“No . . . I just. . . . ug . .”

The hand that had been holding his stomach flew to his mouth as his muscles tensed.  He gripped the railing tightly with his other hand, leaning over it and fighting to keep down what his body was so desperate to reject.  Angie was at his side in a flash, rubbing his back gently as he continued to keep from retching.  Several minutes passed before the nausea finally subsided, leaving Derek gasping for air.  He slowly lowered his forehead against the rail, indulging as the cool metal provided some relief.

“Seasick, are you?”  Angie stated, as there was no question about the doctor’s condition.  He sighed and nodded as best he could from his position.  He closed his eyes as his organs continued to twist sickeningly inside him, but the feeling of Angie’s warm hand against his back eased that somewhat.  Continuing the impromptu massage, Angie said “I know you hadn’t left the country before we went to Africa, but I would have figured you had at least gone on a ferry.  You lived in California your whole life, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly,” Derek paused to grit his teeth as a cramp bit his stomach.  “I was born in New Mexico.”

“Hmm, you prefer land to sea, then?”

“Y-yeah, somethin’ like that . . . . ugh . . .”

There was no stopping this one.  The partially digested remains from lunch that day had come screaming up Derek’s esophagus before he even had a chance to fight back.  Angie continued rubbing his back as he threw up, sympathy written in her eyes.  After an agonizing two minutes, Derek slumped over the railing in clear exhaustion, but his innards refused to calm down.  His stomach grumbled irately in response to the nausea and having been violently emptied by it, but the dizziness had passed for the time being.

“Let’s get you below deck.”

Angie did not wait for a protest or affirmative response before draping Derek’s arm over her shoulder and pulling him up.  “Won’t that just make the motion sickness worse?” Derek mumbled but feebly followed Angie’s lead.

“Not if you lie down and close your eyes.  I’ve been on my share of ships, so I have a lot of experience with seasickness.”  For a brief moment, Angie had entertained the idea of taking Derek to the onboard infirmary, but decided the private quarters Director Miller had arranged for them would be a wiser choice.  It would not look very good for the only licensed surgeon on the vessel to be held up in the medical wing.  Once they made their way inside, Derek all but collapsed onto the cot.

“Are you okay?”

“Mm, yeah, just dizzy again.”

“Close your eyes and rest.  I’ll go get some ginger tea.”

Derek complied, closing his eyes and sighing as he heard Angie’s footsteps wander off to a corner of the room, then return to his bedside.  He heard her place something on the floor next to the head of the cot.  “Here’s a bucket, just in case.”
“. . .Thanks . .” he replied drowsily as her footsteps retreated towards the door.

-----

It had taken Angie a bit longer to return than she would have preferred.  Between finding the kitchen, brewing the tea, and the travel to and from, she guessed it had taken her about 45 minutes.  She made no effort to hasten her pace as the last thing she wanted was to spill the hot liquid, but she was hoping to get back to Derek before he got sick again.  As she carefully entered the room, she was relieved to see him just as she had left him and the bucket resting undisturbed at his bedside.

“Dr. Stiles, are you feeling better?”

She carefully placed the cup on a nightstand, frowning slightly when he did not respond.  “Dr. Stiles?  Are you awake?”  He remained silent, breathing slowly and steadily.  He was unmistakably asleep.  Angie sighed slightly as she covered the cup with a cloth to keep the warmth in.  He fell asleep with his glasses on.  After a quick debate as to whether or not she should risk waking him, she carefully removed his glasses.  She felt her heart skip a beat as his soft bangs brushed against her fingers.  Her face heat up as she swallowed and placed the glasses on the table.  Wh-what am I blushing for?

Angie found herself unable to answer as she continued to watch Derek’s sleeping form.  She did not know why she was staring at him like that, watching his barely parted lips slowly drink in shallow breaths.  She had not seen him sleep so soundly since he had passed out from using the Healing Touch one too many times.  She recalled that day, remembering how her body filled with panic as she and Dr. Kasal watched him crumple to the OR floor.  Greg quickly checked his vitals and ordered Angie to retrieve a floor doctor and a gurney.  She had rushed off in a flash, her professional experience failing her as she frantically flagged down assistance.  She could barely decipher the flurry of actions that followed as she lead the medics back towards the OR and they wheeled Derek to a vacant hospital room.  Once the dust had settled from the chaos, she could clearly remember standing by his bedside just as she was now, watching him breath slowly.

It was three days before he opened his eyes again.  Angie felt a smile tug at her lips as she recalled when he had finally awoken.  He was surprised when Dr. Kasal had told him how long he had been unconscious but Derek’s concern was not directed towards himself, or what he had missed while he slept, but rather towards his patients.  Just like a real doctor . . .

Since that day she had felt her trust and respect for him grow.  Through the hardships they faced, she found herself seeing him as more than a doctor and colleague.  He was a friend.  A good friend.  He was there for her in her greatest time of need, and . . .

My heart’s racing!

Angie did not even notice her hand moving until she felt her fingers gently brush through Derek’s hair.  She tensed, feeling her face ignite and heart rate explode, but her hand continued to tenderly pet his locks and Derek did not so much as stir.  She sighed and relaxed slowly, then not-so-reluctantly conceded as well.  She smiled and brushed his bangs back to admire his face sans glasses.  He almost looked like a different person without them.  She lifted her hand slowly, letting his hair pour through her fingers, and carefully moved to stroke his cheek.  She bit back a small laugh as she felt the tiniest hint of stubble scrape across her fingers and crouched beside the cot.  Looks like you’re going to have to shave again soon, Derek.

Angie continued to brush her fingers back and forth over his face, feeling herself grow lightheaded as her body took in deep but silent breaths.  She froze without precursor, feeling her breaths become more rapid.  For several minutes she could only stare at the man resting before her.  She felt her lips part longingly, slowly moving in . . . .

No . . .

She jerked away as quietly as she could and stood up, forcing her body to calm.  Remember where you are, Angie.  You have a serious mission ahead of you.  She turned towards the opposite wall and controlled her breathing.  I should let him rest.  I’ll check on him again in fifteen minutes to make sure he’s okay.  Hurried footsteps took her to the door as her heart continued to hammer.  Besides, I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that.  He’s a surgeon and I’m his assistant.  He’s my friend . . .

The blush began to bleed from Angie’s face as she reached the deck.  What was she thinking?  They were on their way to get rid of Delphi and GUILT once and for all.  There was no time for this . . . foolishness!  Dr. Stiles was seasick and he would not be able to operate if he were still ill by the time they arrived.  She had to help him get better, not  . . . . do whatever it was she was doing!  “The ginger tea will help him.” she said to herself, calming her nerves.  “I should probably make sure he eats something before we move in.  Wouldn’t want him operating on an empty stomach . . .”

That’s more like it.  Act like a nurse!

She made her way towards the railing and gripped it tightly.  Holding back emotions was hard, but she could not allow them to compromise the mission.  She had managed to hold together during the confrontation with her father.  This should have been nothing in comparison.

“I told him I wanted to be here for him, as his assistant, and today, that’s all I am.”  She sighed.  “His assistant . . .”

She could not think of him like that.  After all, he was only a friend.

A good friend . . . .