Heated Debate, Sunday afternoon

He blinked, feeling the air right against his face, as fast as the door was closed on him there. Near had his nose nicked by that too. He bit at his lip, to keep his mouth shut even if he'd have wanted to say something. How ungrateful they were. Sure he'd spoken out, but it was for them and here they were..

He felt upset as he turned from the door. His pride had a blow, which his nose did not, well enough.

Bridgens scowled at the lad. "So ye should be. But that one still ain't allowed in the dispensary. Them's Doctor Crozier's rules."

He set to finding the right key, trying to look as if he was used to handling the expensively beautiful mahogany case every day. When he finally managed to unlock it, he pulled open the sides with scarcely disguised reverent fear. "Now, ehm, which one was it?"

Oxley frowned. It wasn't one of those bottles, he knew that much. "He did summat to it," he said, coming over and looking carefully, moving his hands behind his back. "He took it out the back or summat. Some sort of panel or somethin', 'cause it ain't one of them." He risked pointing. "I think it just slides open," he said, putting his hand back almost as soon as he'd pointed at the panel in question.

"Oh, aye, it does that," Bridgens said knowingly. He had seen the surgeon operate it before, but he himself had never been given access to its secret. After struggling some moments with pushing, pulling, tapping, and trying different keys in the lock, he had the idea of feeling the interior for a catch. Perhaps there was a catch behind one of the drawers... And as he pulling it open with his left hand, his right hand encountered a metal rod in the upper portion of the box. "Well hello. There it is!" And the panel was loose. He slid it open and swiveled the box around, asking, "Now which one is it?"

"That one, second left," Oxley said, without hesitation. "The round glass one. He had a dropper out -" it was still on the table, in fact "-but he just had some straight out the bottle. Didn't use the dropper at all."

Bridgens frowned. Now that he knew what it was, he could just barely read "tinc opii" and the number 30 in Crozier's scrawl on the page of the Day Book. "Did he write in here before or after he drunk it?"

"Um, after, I think. Though he told me he couldn't see straight - 's why he needed me to help in the first place. He asked me to read the numbers to him out of the Day Book - can't read writin' like you - only I don't think he heard what he wanted, 'cause he just dosed hisself. And then I helped him back to his cot in sickbay and went to find Doctor Matterin." He looked apologetically at the older man. "I'd've gone for you or Mister M'Clure, only I didn't know where you were and didn't want to hunt the whole length of the barky in case he got up again while I was gone."

Bridgens narrowed his eyes but did not respond. Instead he closed up the medicine case with the utmost reverence and tenderness, locked it and placed it back on its usual shelf behind a protective rail. "Out with ye now," he said, opening the door. "I'll tell it to Mister M'Clure."

"If there's anythin' else I can help with, I'll do it," Oxley said, crossing to the door. "And... will you tell Mister M'Clure I said sorry? Unless you think I ought to do it my own self."

"I'll tell him," Bridgens said grudgingly. Best not to let too many visitors come and go in the sick bay for a while. "Be off with you now. And keep your friend outta trouble!."

"I'll try to. And Doctor Crozier was askin' for his picture from his desk... an' I'm real sorry 'bout tyin' him up, too, though I know it's to make sure he don't get up again."

And if he apologised much more, Bridgens was going to think he'd gone soft in the head. He managed to smile wanly and turned to find de Guarde. One last apology, maybe two, and they could go and have a bit of fun like they'd planned.

De Guarde waited outside. He been standing by the doctor a while ago, just observing him and then removed himself fully from the sickbay. He watched the door resentfully and had later turned, sat himself down and fingered the paper that he'd brought, leaving the ink bottle by his side, corked safely.

He regretted not bringing a pencil with him but he hadn't thought that he would have to wait, while being hauled out the door. And to think that doctor could do it all and have them kneel and bow at his feet. Tch, he thought, that was disgraceful at the very least.

He hadn't noticed Oxley returning, too lost in his thoughts as he was. His face was, atleast for the moment, nearly like what his old expression had been. The sour faced, belitteling look. His hand had released the papers, that lay in his lap and began to tug at the sleeve of the shirt, till he willed himself to stop. Not on this shirt.

Oxley saw de Guarde sitting there by himself and came over. He frowned a little as he saw the younger boy's expression and wondered if he'd prefer to be left alone. "Hey," he said quietly. "You all right there?"

De Guarde jumped a little at the sound of Oxley's voice and then slowly turned to the boy. He shrugged, stood up, adjusted his shirt, had his hand again from the cuff of his sleeve and stead placed it to the sides of his slops.

"..yeah." He didn't sound convinced or convincing as he noticed his papers have scattered around his feet. So he'd forgotten they were there when he stood. He bent down, then knelt rather and began gathering each of them - for he'd taken a few just in case - into his hands. "Got the ink n' papers." He murmured, his gaze
avoiding Oxley till then - ever since looking at him the first time of course -, and now turned to rest on him. His expression has cleared a little.

The very same was shown in the tone of his voice and the manner of speaking: "If we're to write up on deck, I might need yer , that is if I dun find a proper space ter write, yer back. Ye know, somethin' t' support me papers, else it'll not write good at all."

"All right. An' I'm sorry 'bout what happened jus' now, only I don't think Bridgens is very happy, an' it's one of Doctor Crozier's rules that only him or Mister M'Clure or Bridgens goes in th'dispensary, usu'lly. I just went 'cause I needed to show Bridgens what bottle it was that the doctor dosed hisself out of." He shrugged helplessly. "Where d'you want to go t'do the writin', then?"

"Didn' need ter near take me nose off, with t' door." He muttered and shrugged.

"Up on deck, where we'd said we would. S' better light there." He added simply and checked that he had both the ink and quill with him too. Couldn't have either left on the floor where it could be taken by someone else.

Oxley couldn't help grinning at that. "Well, he didn't, so it's all right then, ain't it? An' up on deck it is, then." He led the way topside and found an out-of-the-way corner. "This do you?" he asked, waiting for de Guarde's opinion before sitting down.

"Well enough, yes." He nodded and waited for the boy to get seated before he could set himself down alongside him." There, so what did we think of writing again. Do you need to give yer warning first? 'bout wot' Doctor Crozier drank? Might be a fair start." And it would ease some of what they had to write just after.

"Um. I tole Bridgens what he took - 's why I was in there when you come back, see, like I said. So mebbe it'd be good to tell him I told them, as well. Only, I don't want him gettin' cross with them again." He rolled over to lie full-length on the deck on his stomach, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. "An'... well, might he get angry with them for not tellin' him?"

"..that's gettin' more complicated than it's worth t' pain o' it. If that guest doctor had had any better sense n' mind, we might not be sittin' 'ere thinking and worrying about it neither. " Be damned if they wrote it, and if they didn't someone would certainly be damned again.

"..Well they didn't know now did they. Though... does t' doctor need ter know?" And he continued :" 's dependin' really. If they know enough ter be sure our Doctor Crozier is safe.. then we best not tell this Maturin. But if they don't.. n' Mr. Crozier'd be in danger from it, well then we'd have ter tell him so he makes sure that t' man don't die on us."

He placed the ink bottle to the left of him, and held the quill in hand.

"How ter not get him cross..." Though perhaps he did want him to get cross with those men again. After all, the door in his face was a fresh memory. "..well, we have ter tell, I think. Few hurt prides are a fair small price ter pay, if it means our doctor keeps his life." It was just too confusing, and if he thought any more on it, he was sure he'd be starting to have a headache.

"So, we write it, n' we say them have been informed a'ready. Then wot'.. " He didn't even know how he wanted to word his letter.

"Do we write fer each of us. Since.. yer not sorry for me ter have spoken wot' I did, and I can't be sorry for you walkin' t' doctor around neither.. Unless we write we're just sorry for what we did n'all, ..should we ask that he don't talk to the officers about it?"

"Don't mention him talkin' to any officers at all. If he's goin' to, he's goin' to, and if he don't think of it, best not to give him the idea to," Oxley said. "Hm. How's about summat like... 'Doctor Matterin, sir, we thought you ought to know that Doctor Crozier dosed hisself earlier. We've tole Mister M'Clure an' Bridgens an' they can tell you what he had.'" He looked up at the other boy. "Well, it ought to be 'we', really, 'cause I dunno that he ought to get two letters at once. Only, I dunno how else to say it, to show what I want to say, an' what you do."

"..mm.. he'd have said it if he wanted...but then ." Why were they writing if the doctor could say it anyway. He'd decided after some thought that he would not look through the whys but rather concentrate on writing the letter well enough. He sat up and found his legs not to be the best place to write, nor was the floor since it looked rather uncomfortable to try. A table would've been good, but there wasn't one waiting to be had.

"Oxley, can yer sit up, n' lean forward. Jus' so I write this. Won't stain yer shirt none." He said, debating what options he had for it. If the boy said no, he'd just have to find another way.

"n'..lesse." He began: "t' first part's more or less good I think. Don't need ter say we fergot ter tell. Else he'd jus' get 'imself into another big fit!" He shook his head at the thought, the man my well die from all that stress alone, if he won't keep himself calmer.

" So, then.. I meant, not two letters, silly. Jus' that I could've written, that you was sorry for havin' t' doctor go about n' not calling him sooner or summat. And me bein' so for t' other things. Or we can jus' write.. We're also sorry for what we had done, which had upset you. We regret our deeds on both accounts,..." But he didn't like that at all.

"Or.. jus' stop at t' upset. N' add that if he'd want us ter say sorry in person, we'll be here n' here at t' time or that he can jus' say when he'd want ter... or summat." He shrugged. "...I dunno. Could do either, say fer each of us, in t' same letter, or jus' say it like that. Alltogether not referrin' ter anything we did either."

Oxley sat up, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees, with his chin in his hands. "That do for you?" he asked. "I think we prob'ly should say what each of us is sorry for, or he might get the wrong sort of idea. I mean, I'm sorry for lettin' the doctor get up in the first place and I never meant for Mister M'Clure or Bridgens to get in trouble when I went to fetch Doctor Matterin." He thought for a moment. "What d'you think about summat like 'Oxley says he's real sorry that he let the doctor go anywhere and he never meant for anyone else to get in trouble when he come to find you'?"

"Jus' splendid, aye." He moved the paper to Oxley's back along with the quill.

"Mm, t' firs' part would interest t' doctor I think, but t' second you'd have ter be saying ter Mister M'Clure n' Bridgens, not him. He'd have been right angry if you didn't call him and something happened to Doctor Crozier. So saying sorry fer callin' you could do him wrong. I think." Though Oxley didn't mean the latter either though he got them in trouble by not finding them first, but then they were to blame too for not being there in the first place anyhow.

"Just saying, Oxley's very sory for letting the doctor get out of his hammock when he shouldn't have, would've been alright. Unless yer want ter say t' other too. I can write it either way!" Even if he thought it wasn't the boy's fault after all. He just did what he was told and helped the man to his best knowledge. Which was better than watching him wobble about on his own. But then Maturin of course would've seen it different!

And he did first their introduction that they've already agreed on, dipping the quill into the ink every so often so that he could write the next few lines. "Don't move either, else we'll have ter start again."

"Well, I did go and fetch Doctor Matterin, but I didn't mean to get Mister M'Clure or Bridgens in trouble by doin' that.I mean, I couldn't help it that they wasn't there, but I didn't go for to get them in trouble. And that prob'ly don't make any sense. But I want him to know that I didn't intend for that to happen, though I c'n say it to them, too, of course. And the Doctor was already out of his hammock when I got there. I'm sorry for lettin' him do anythin' that might've made things worse, of course, an' I did try to get him to go back to bed, but he wouldn't have it."

He was holding as still as he could. It felt sort of strange to be used for a writing-table.