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It's some time before Sariel leaves Tanya. the other woman is a mess, physically and mentally, and if it's one thing Sariel knows it's that you don't leave anyone in a state like that, regardless of their association to you.

If it's another thing she knows, it's that looking after a fellow officer is only one of her reasons for staying.

she tries not to let it get to her, tries to keep the sympathetic sick shivers at bay until she's up the staircase, and once she gets through her door she's careful to find the desk chair rather than the bed's edge first. Even if

bright light

sleep were

scars beneath her clothing

the least bit inviting, she wouldn't

shadows and restraints and cold alien blades against her skin

dare submit to it unless absolute necessity were driving. She looks at everything but the bedspread, everything but the lights, everything but the inches of uniform fabric she knows are covering fine white lines carved into dark flesh. and she doesn't bother fighting the chills that leave her shuddering, clammy-handed and goosebumped and staring at the nearest wall.

just like rats in a cage, like mice in a cage - no care, no mercy

It's a long time before they're entirely gone.

Sariel is certain, when she finally does leave her room and rejoin the patrons downstairs, that she'll be as much, or as little, of a support as Tanya needs for as long as she does. Friendship is only part of the equation; the other woman didn't say just what had happened - she couldn't, in the condition she'd been in - but still.

sometimes it really does take one to know one.

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Ensign Sariel Rager

December 2017

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