The Sickbay, after the Battle

"He's awake, is he?" A tired looking Crozier approached to stand on the other side of the cot, searching the lieutenant's face. "Mister Leat, do you know who I am?"

Phil drew back a bit, out of the way of the doctor, and muttered his answer to the question. "Aye, sir, just woke up. Confused, sir, and he didn't know where he was."

He shook his head, desbeleiving, but not unduly surprised or worried. "doesn't remember being clubbed, neither, sir." he fidgeted a bit, wanting to stay and find out more, but not wantign to get in the way at all. They were all tired, and that was always a good time to bank on getting in trouble.

"I was clubbed?"

Well, that would go some way to explaining why his head hurt so much...

"Do you know who I am, Mister Leat?" the surgeon repeated patiently. "Do you know where you are?"

"Yes, you're the doctor and this is Terpsy's sickbay," Leat said irritably. His throat felt incredibly hoarse and dry. "M'Clure told me. Please, might I have a drink?"

The exhausted Crozier gave them both a wry grin. "Then that was cheating. Yes of course - Bridgens, some water here." He turned his attention back to medical matters, examining the lieutenant's eyes closely. "How is your vision?"

"Hurts," he said, eagerly turning his attention to the mug of water that was being passed his way. "My whole bloody head hurts."

He did his best to drink slowly, but he still hardly paused for breath as the water washed down his gullet. The sudden cold made his head throb even more, and he winced; though restrained himself from crying out.

"Have you seen Emily at all?" he asked the doctor, once he had swallowed the contents of the mug.

"I think I saw her in the orlop when we cleared for action, probably looking for a quiet place to hide. She may still be down there, or she may have come out now that it's quiet. I'm sure she's fine. Animals know how to stay safe." He peered into the man's eyes again. "Your eyes hurt? How well can you see?"

Leat though was not so certain of that statement.

"Some needs to find her," he said, his worry clear. The doctor's question did not seem to bear any significance. "She won't have been fed, or she could be hurt, or have strayed onto the Frecnhman..."

Philip sighed and took the cup. "I'll go, sir, if ye can spare me." it would be a break from close, bloody, quarters, which, while interesting and useful, had a habit of leaving you tired and aching.

Crozier frowned. The lieutenant's mind was addled, probably concussed. "Yes, very well Mister Leat. I will send someone with food at once. And Mister Bush is aboard the Frenchman, so you needn't worry about her safety if she's there." Though that was unlikely. What would she have done - crossed the yardarms in the heat of battle? Swung across on a grappling line? "I'll go see to it now. Excuse me just a moment. M'Clure?" He signaled for the assistant to follow him into the dispensary.

Obediatnly he followed, keeping hold of the cup and stepping carefully to miss everyone.
"sir?"

Crozier measured out the drops of laudanum and stirred the glass. "You may as well go and find the cat and bring it here. I'm sure it's fine, wherever it is, but his mind seems distressed thinking about it. This will help him sleep, which I think is the best thing for his recovery. And then you can go. I think everything is under control now." He gave his assistant a rare and weary smile of commiseration. "Thank you. Well done."

Philip smiled back, "Thankyou sir."

Carefully he put down the empty mug and turned to go, turnign shyly to add, "err....ye did...well terday, sir." flushed, he rushed from the room to find the dratted cat.

(ooc- and so do I, rush, that is, to an exam. till some time much much later.)

Crozier was too tired to notice his assistant's shyness or flushing, but simply nodded in acknowledgment. He returned to the sickbay carrying the glass. "Mister Leat, M'Clure has gone to find your cat, and all will be well. You need to rest though, and close your eyes. Your left pupil is strangely dilated, so your vision may be a bit strange and bright light may be painful, for a few hours or perhaps a day. Though I'm sure you have enough pain already that you might not even notice. Here, drink this please."

Leat's expression brightened a little, relieved that somebody would go looking for Emily; but it darkened once more as he looked suspiciously at the glass.

"What is it?"

"It's a physic. It will lessen the pain and help you sleep, which is exactly what you need now."

Leat took the glass hesitantly, looking at the liquid as if he did not quite trust it; but he drank it down in sips - unable to do so any quicker, for fear of choking in his prone state. Whatever it was tasted bitter, and he could not help but grimace.

Crozier took the glass, nodding in approval. "Good man. M'Clure will be back soon with your cat, but until then you must rest with your eyes closed. Do you want some more water?"

"Please."

He fetched the cup from the dispensary and filled it again, watching with a critical eye as the lieutenant downed it. It was strange that the safety of his pet cat should be first and foremost in his mind, but then his mind was unsettled. With luck he would sleep and later awake more recovered in his wits. No need to burden him with talk of the battle until then.

"Very well, lieutenant. You must rest now. Bridgens and I will be close by if you need anything more."

Leat was already feeling unnaturally tired - the laudenum taking effect quickly on his empty stomach and slender frame - and he murmured an unintelligable reply to Crozier before closing his eyes. Rest. Rest would be good now...

Crozier watched with satisfaction and something of envy. Rest certainly would be good. Not to sleep, of course, but to rest his head and close his eyes, just for a moment. There were no immediate pressing needs with his patients, for he had done all he could do at present. But it was probably time to change Torrington's bandages, and was that Spencer waking up? Crozier decided that Spencer and Torrington and the whole sick bay could manage without him for just a few minutes. There were no empty hammocks, but he slumped into the little wooden chair, cradled his head in his arms on the operating table, and fell immediately asleep.

He was wondering if it were at all possible to strangle the wretched cat without anyone noticing. It wasn't particularly impressed about being woken, and dragged back. But he reckoned that she'd have ter be at least seen, if not touched, by their patient. At least there wasn't much blood coming from them nasty claws.
'shut up ye beastie' but it was said gently enough, and she calmed down enough to have him get in through the door. And wasn't that the pits? Everyone asleep, it seemed, but Torrington, who certainly needed a bandage or two seen to.
He looked round, lost for a moment, trying to work out where best to put another living object. a few steps and he placed her, gently as he could, ontop of Leat. She dropped off again.