Summer Eyes and Good-Byes

Posted on Fri Aug 13th, 2021 @ 4:26pm by Lieutenant Cassian Pell

Mission: The Waiting Game
Location: Counselor's Office, Starfleet Medical Earth
Timeline: Day 84 - 1700 Hours

He has eyes like summer. Eyes that bring back memories of nubby blankets spread on the green grass near Lake Cataria. Bare toes and glasses of chilled wine. Soft breezes that carry the giggles of children playing along the shoreline. He smiles and there's a warmth that spreads outward as he speaks in that odd Terran accent of his. "How's it going, Cas."

"Better," Cas says and he means it because telepaths don't lie. Because he doesn’t lie. It’s a fundamental truth, bedrock belief born on a world where everyone slips in and out of your thoughts. "No dreams last night."

The questions line up in his mind. Cas can almost see them form, word by word, thought by thought. He comes from a place of shadows and sunlight where lies are common. He finds honesty to be refreshing but at the same time, hard to accept. Cas can see all of this and the knowing comforts him because that's part of being a telepath as well. He can’t imagine how it must be to never know what others are thinking. Life has its own song, a kind of background hum, that's comforting. Always there but at the same time, easily ignored when you have to concentrate.

Or it used to be.

"Ask your questions," Cas says. He speaks with a slight accent, always has, and a shock of black hair falls forward across his forehead as reaches for the cup sitting on the low table between them. He forgets those things. Haircuts and appointments. The work takes precedence and while it’s been nice, this time of quiet reflection he’s also glad it’s ending. Time to get back to work. Past time.

He smiles and now there are sparkles ripping through his summer eyes. He's never worked with a Betazoid before but then, Cas has never worked with a counselor before. "Well first, I wanted to ask how you're feeling. Now that the investigation has concluded."

Cas takes a sip of tea and considers the question because that's what he does. He gives real answers. Always has. "Frustrated, I suppose. They found nothing but then, it’s a world that has no experience with telepaths. They use more conventional means and well, those didn't work, did they?" He looks into those summer eyes, his own black and shadowed. "Not actually a crime on their world, either."

“I know you wanted a different outcome,” he says quietly, and the words come, buoyed up on a current of gentleness and compassion.

“I did,” Cas answers as he sets his teacup down in the same location as before so that there will only be one ring on the glass top and not two or twenty. “Do. But it is what it is. I’ve done the training on Vulcan and with your help, I think I understand it better.” Cas is stretched out in his chair, booted feet crossed at the ankles, looking out over the water as they talk. “You know your office is much better than mine.”

He smiles and a chuckle rolls out in his rich tenor. “Maybe,” he says, “but yours always seems to be in more interesting neighborhoods.”

“Also true,” Cas answers and smiles in return, the kind of smile that wells up and fills the depths of his eyes. “I think I’m ready. To answer that next question. Yes, I think I’m ready to get back to work.”

"So do I," he answers and now there's just the faintest trace of regret entwined around the words. "So do I."