Avalon

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Fake It Till You Can't Make It

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I've got the same deep wounds as you,

My love can double as a weapon too

Say that you trust it and I'll set it free,

Turn it back on me,

Turn it back on me

Noel sat there at his table alone for once. He felt incredibly relieved his little minions weren't there yet. He needed this reprieve to center himself. His mind had been messy to begin with but in the port seeing the man with such a close resemblance to Nate had been the reason his thoughts couldn't get in order he needed. Also his legs and hand was giving unacceptable jiggles and that wasn't a good thing. His medical was due and so far he's been avoiding it all day long. Now he just had to make it through the night and flee the city the moment event was done and he could use the moment of everyone being tipsy to sneak out. Nobody needed to know that he planned to go off grid until his next mission. He would turn the comm off for his little vacation. After all he wasn't one of the main crew anymore.

After all his Commander days were over and the Lieutenant title was close to go too. It was only question of how long he had to wait until it happened.

He was placed in a position where he felt quite comfortable. He could at least drink as much as he wanted. So far crew were accepting his being on the ship this long. Before he used to jump ships a lot. Even systems as many ships flew all over the galaxy and more. He was okay with most of the dirty tasks as they put it while in reality it was mostly lending a hand in repairs and shipping supplies off from place to place. He luckily had this wide range of academic knowledge that Fleet saw valuable even when his health took a slow nosedive.

That had taken the first title away. It wasn't typical demotion so he didn't worry. But now he feared his position may become endangered in a way. His display at the port was unpleasant enough for them to make judgment out of that alone. And who said he'd be left to his own devices until next shipment was due.

His medical was basically tutting every time they saw his results. And that was another deep concern he usually tries to drink away until he had to face the day and engulf his mind with all the tasks he was assigned to.

Today he wanted to relax some more and endure whatever the great heads had in mind and then leave. He did put it in his log just in case. However he was still relatively free of usual ship ties. He could work on whatever ship. It wasn't uncommon either.

But now he was feeling his spasms starting to bother him again. Damn, he thought as he looked back at his slightly shaky hands. His med pack was there, on the back of his chair inside that backpack his lovelies so thoughtfully hung. And he did pack it fully. Though it seemed they kinda knew what they were doing as he wasn't the only wheelchair user in this place. And so far he believed they were trained to deal with disabled community. To which he still refused to count himself fully in. But he knew there will be time when his legs would give up and his body stop fighting against disability. His mind would crash badly and struggle for a while before he'll accept his fate and give up pretending.

Fake it till you make it, and then till you can't anymore. He's been there, done that, way before. Before he crawled out of that hole once and then for a while it was okay again. Until he crashed again, and again, and stood there still shaky for a moment. Yet he refused to let his mind accept it yet. Because he just knew, from experience and other people stories, that once you allowed just a sliver of a thought it's a lost cause. Yes, accepting and adapting was one way to go, but it didn't work same for everyone. He'd found his pace so for now it was what it was.