The Bracco Files: Lieutenant JG Marwol

Posted on Mon Oct 23rd, 2023 @ 6:13pm by Lieutenant JG Gwenwyn Marwol & Lieutenant Jennifer Bracco, M.D.

Mission: On the Road Again
Location: Outside Doctor Bracco's Quarters
Timeline: Mission Day 4 at 0940

[Outside Doctor Bracco's Quarters]
[USS Sojourner]
[MD 4: 0940 Hours]

Marwol tried to slither his way out of the situation like someone from Neath, hoping for a medical emergency where his skills were or could be forcefully needed. But he was in a bind like the Devil who went to Georgia, he needed to seek Doctor Bracco.

The allocated time was fine, not pressing into work or personal, 20 minutes before his shift was to end, Xex knew what was happening with his staff and so let Gwen go. Strolling down the hallway, the surgeon noted the cabin numbers and came to a stop in front of Doctor Bracco's door, reaching forward to thumb the chime. Though the psychiatrist operated out of her personal quarters, Gwenwyn was here for business and only business.

"Come on in," a husky voice piped into the hallway via the comm.

As the doors swished open, the main sitting area of Bracco's quarters was visible. With a large picture window showing the vastness of space behind, two overstuffed, chintz armchairs occupied the center space of the suite, each accompanied by a small side table. Jennifer herself was seated in the left chair, a steaming mug of tea and a PADD situated on the table next to her. On the other table -- this one for her patients -- was a coaster for a drink and a box of tissues.

Rising from her chair, Bracco welcomed Marwol in and gestured him to the right hand chair. "Coffee? Something else?" the therapist wondered, offering to procure the surgeon something from the replicator. She was aware that he was coming off shift and, thus, might have a thirst. "Please, make yourself comfortable. May I call you Gwenwyn?" The question was innocuous enough, but the doctor would likely realize she was attempting to make things a bit more personal.

"Just water will be fine," Gweywn replied, he knew this song and dance so he had to take everything with a pinch of salt, sitting himself down, he kept looking into Bracco's chocolate eyes as if he was searching her soul to see if she would be merciful on him. "Anything is fine expert Gwen... It's a woman's name and the name of an ex-girlfriend." He said sitting, like a happy relationship communication was everything but it is the quickest exit.

"Water it is," Jennifer replied with a neutral smile, moving towards the replicator. After a few exchanged words with the device, she returned to the sitting area, handing Marwol the beverage he'd requested. "I can see how 'Gwen' might be off-putting given what you describe. It's kind of how I feel when people call me 'Jen,'" she added, gently lowering down into her own seat. "Promise you won't use that against me," Bracco smirked ever so slightly, both acknowledging the tension between them -- the potential for conflict over resented therapy -- but also giving Gwenwyn a weapon to make him more comfortable.

"How have you been doing, Gwenwyn?" Jennifer asked then, leaning back in her chair and reaching for her tea. She gently blew the surface of the hot liquid, cooling it for consumption.

"I'm fine," Gweywn said with confidence, being a doctor he knew how to actually fake things to Doctors. "looking forward to getting off duty, I've got some sleep to catch up."

"Sleep is definitely nice," Jennifer said agreeably, setting her tea back on the table and crossing her legs. Affixing Marwol with a neutral gaze, she innocently asked, "What does 'fine' mean in this case?" She knew the surgeon was, in fact, very much not fine -- at least according to Doctor Wang and some of the others who'd noticed a change in the surgeon recently.

"Okay," Gwnewyn replied knowing the context of 'fine' & 'okay' were the same with his best smile after a brief pause he continued with. "I'm worried about my patients, but when you're this far out of UFP space, you don't have a hospital to call for advice so you have to think outside the box. But I know a break is good for me, it'll let my head re charge."

"I definitely understand that," Jennifer nodded slowly. "We're pretty cut off out here. Kind of forces us to stay on our toes. A prolonged period of that would wear anyone down," the woman acknowledged. "Breaks can definitely be helpful, though, agreed. Are you taking some time off then?" She'd gotten limited information from Doctor Wang -- the question was meant to fill in the gaps about Gwenwyn's plan and maybe get some additional context for it.

"Xex is in charge of Medical, he runs the schedule with my input," Gwenwyn said still smiling like the Cheshire cat, hoping to appear healthy and sound but knowing he was in the long game with Dr Bracco. "I like to think so, I have a 1 free day and whenever the ship hasn't been assigned a mission, we get the week off... Including me."

"I'd never look that gift horse in the mouth," Jennifer quipped with an outward smirk. "But it sounds like you've been thinking of much more than just a week off, right? Something more...permanent?" If the pleasantries between them had been a bubble, the psychiatrist had just taken a needle to it. Yes, she knew. And despite keeping Xex's name out of the conversation, it was no doubt apparent to Gwenwyn how she knew. And while the Doctor telling tales on Marwol's intentions might be grating to the surgeon, the topic was now on hand and up for discussion.

The game was in Dr Bracco's favour, but she really did hold all the cards when Gwenwyn knew nothing to up his hand. "I'm leaving Starfleet, yeah." He said, expert the smile dissipated and turned into a frown, nothing followed except silence afterwards, as if both doctors didn't know what to say or waited for the other to speak but Gwenwyn spoke up, he was the gentlemen after all. "Being back in the Delta Quadrant has made me realize that I miss my family more... Majority of the Marwol's are in the family business, Marwol Intergalactic Circus... I was for a time, knitted puppets and put on shows for the kids during the breaks while I waited for my acceptance letter to Starfleet."

"I can certainly understand wanting to be closer to family," Jennifer acknowledged. "It can be difficult being so far away from those who love us unconditionally. It's a big jump, though," she commented, "from sewing puppets to stitching up people." The psychiatrist let the observation hang in the air for a few moments, a subtle but apt observation on all the work Gwenwyn had put into becoming a surgeon. "Will you rejoin the family business, then?" she wondered through another cooling blow before taking a sip from her tea cup, leaning back a bit in her chair.

"For awhile," Gwenwyn said with no colour in his tone. "I don't see my aunts, uncles, cousins and in-laws so I'm going to spend time with them. But I was thinking of the IME (Interspecies Medical Exchange), I'm still an MD... Unless you declare me unfit." He jokily chuckled.

"That's the million slips of latinum question, isn't it?" Jennifer asked neutrally, crossing her uniform-pant-suited legs. "My understanding is that you've been having a lot of difficulties as of late. Difficulties that might prevent you," she gently said, "from being a reliable caregiver, whether that's with Starfleet or the IME. Maybe you could tell me more about how you've been struggling?" At the end of the day, it wasn't Jennifer's goal or job to keep Marwol in Starfleet if he didn't want to be there. But she could certainly help him explore any inciting incidents leading to his thinking of leaving: whether he stayed or went, the root issues could still be potentially addressed.

"I'm not struggling, Xex is... Just overworked." Gwewyn stated that as a doctor he knew the one thing of kind hating was not getting their questions asked. "I've just been thinking of surgery," he had hoped she had time to review his file "Seeing Booth getting murdered and with Dr t'Nai's presence, I keep thinking what if... What if I still had my surgical license? Would still be here?"

Jennifer chose to let the redirect to Xex pass without comment. Instead, she focused on the comment regarding a surgeon's skills helping to prevent what had happened to Booth. "Witnessing that had to have been extremely difficult," the psychiatrist said, imaging -- not for the first time -- what Booth being ripped apart by one of the panther-like creatures from Shaddam looked like. "From the accounts I've read and heard, though, it sounds like it all happened very suddenly. What more could you have done with a surgeon's hands?

"Saved him," Gweywn straightforwardly stated, he was no emergency medical specialist but the stomach (where Booth's injuries were) was the area Gweywn specialised in. "I had a medkit, so apply-" He stopped himself, now the fog had lifted, and he knew painkillers via hypospray wouldn't have any effects. But he continued, he didn't want to be impolite. "Apply pressure, with the engineering kit with the team we could have easily stabilized him."

Bracco listened intently, then made a show of calling up a report of the incident involving Booth. "According to Commander t'Nai's account, there was a pair of creatures: one ran off after Lieutenant Margarar, giving chase...the other remained behind with Booth's body, threatening the rest of the away team. I understand," she licked her lips to wet them, "that Booth's...head," she said a bit uncomfortably, "was removed during the initial attack? I don't see how you could have stabilized him, even if the other panther had run off as well," Jennifer noted, folding the PADD back up in her arms.

There was an elongated pause, it was like an elderly pollination giving a speech. Then came the truth. "I don't recall much of the attack," Dr Bracco was winning. "I admit, under the stressful situation with me just being back from medical leave, brain fog is expected."

"Memory loss is sometimes a byproduct of trauma, as well," Jennifer noted after a slow nod. "Sometimes our brains repress memories as a way of protecting us from mental harm," the psychiatrist explained softly. "But that's why we talk through these things together...to help us navigate the fog, fill in the blanks, and get to truth. Gwenwyn," the woman said, "does knowing Booth was already gone and his body inaccessible change your view of things at all?"

"Yes... I remember," Gwenwyn said, he remembered the attack, the more he talked the quicker the fog was lifting which made him wonder. Was he really sick?

Jennifer surreptitiously made a note on her PADD while offering Gwenwyn an encouraging nod. "Keep with it," she urged with a note of support, knowing that recalling the details -- no matter how painful -- would help to pull the memories front and center and allow Marwol to explore and process them. "What else do you remember?" she asked. "Sights, smells...anything that comes to mind. If you can recall it, we can confront it," the psychiatrist explained.

"I remember growling," Gwenwyn stated. "I turned around and... and had already killed Booth then another appeared." All this time, all the way from Starfleet medical to the Delta quadrant he wondered if it was too early to return to the frontline.

"Yes," Jennifer nodded, pushing up the bridge of her glasses, "the second panther," she said, for lack of a better term, "seemed to be protecting a den of sorts -- or so Commander t'Nai thought. A den you had all stumbled unknowingly into..." the psychiatrist trailed off. "What happened then? After Booth could not be helped and the second panther appeared?" The question was meant to accomplish two things: cement for Marwol that the security could not be saved, yes, but also focus him on moving forward back then...and moving forward now.

Scratching his brow first before words left his dried lips. "There was no evidence it was a den," Marwol said correcting what he he saw. "The engineer recovered the data and we ran into fallen down walls."

Scans of the site had indicated a lot of bone piles, both of old Kazon and modern-day avian sourcing. Paired with the various tracks and the fact that the panthers brought kills back to that place, t'Nai's assessment of a den made sense. But Jennifer chose not to challenge the doctor's assertion. Instead, she simply nodded.

"I understand we're reviewing that data now," the psychiatrist said. "Hopefully it will yield some helpful insights into that place and its former occupants." Unspoken by Jennifer was the hope that the data was worth the price they'd paid for it. "So you ran. While one creature chased the Lieutenant," she referred to the Antican, "and the other stayed behind with its...meal, what was that dash back to the Waverider like?"

Every part of Gwenwyn's body was on fire but he didn't know if he should put that into words. "We ran as fast as we could. Always together, always looking out for each other. The Starfleet way." He said, they ran like cowards not looking back, not even thinking of what they were running away from.

"It sounds to me," Jennifer said neutrally, "like you did all of the things you could, including protecting your teammates on the way back to the ship. That's commendable...even if it was incredibly difficult." Sitting back in her chair, the woman reached again for her tea, though it had cooled significantly by this point. Taking a sip of the tepid leaf juice, the psychiatrist consulted her PADD before setting the cup aside. To Marwol, she said, "I'm going to prescribe something to help you sleep. I'm also going to give you another medication to ease the anxiety and help you weather your feelings with more control."

"I understand," Jennifer continued, "that your future in Starfleet is in question. At least until you've made a decision one way or the other, I'd like to continue meeting and talking through how you're feeling. Would once a week be alright?" she asked, the question appended with a hopeful, upwards lilt. She clearly wanted the doctor to agree but didn't want to have to make it an order. She would, of course, do so if she had to, though.

As a Doctor himself, he knew all the unique ways they used to have a patient sit down with them. "That would be fine," Gwenwynly replied, standing up and making a brake for it. Stubborn wasn't a trait of his but he saw himself as a healer not one who needed healing.