A ship like this has many uses for a healer. Even a nurse of small rank has more than one use on board a freighter. Oh, there's the usual, of course; the patching up of crew and passengers as and when they need it, even when they're pretty insistant that they don't. But there are other uses for a medic out here in the black.
Someone to talk to, who won't tell the rest of the ship your worries and fears and hopes. Someone who'll sit and listen, for hours if necessary, and be ready with a smile and a warm hug when your words run dry.
Someone to field the tensions on board, to break the hostility with a laughing comment or light-hearted joke. Someone who has no fear of jumping in the middle of an altercation, who'd rather be hit than have to stand by and watch her crew, her family, hit on each other.
Someone to give you a sense of purpose, who pesters and badgers at you until you promise to teach her a little of what you know. Someone who can fill the hours in the black with clumsy little mistakes that endear her, rather than make her ridiculous.
Someone to tease you, to fill the hole in your heart where your family used to bide and ease the way for you to make family of the rest of the crew. Someone to like you, even if others don't, and make you a brother, above a friend.
Someone to like you enough that most of her time is yours, if you are at a loose end as well. Someone who'll curl up next to you during the long cold hours of night when you cannot sleep, who'll laugh and joke with you, who'll give you the unquestioning affection she believes you have earned.
Above all, someone who doesn't ask searching questions without knowing that the fallout may be harsh for both the listener and the speaker. Someone who has a happy word for everyone on board, whose door is always open if you need her. Someone who took to the Nighthawke like a child to a new home, and made the crew family to her, even if they weren't family to one another.
Yes, there are many uses for a healer in the black. She knows this, and so do you. And that is why you answer her smiles and put up with her clumsiness. For without a healer, where would you be?
Someone to talk to, who won't tell the rest of the ship your worries and fears and hopes. Someone who'll sit and listen, for hours if necessary, and be ready with a smile and a warm hug when your words run dry.
Someone to field the tensions on board, to break the hostility with a laughing comment or light-hearted joke. Someone who has no fear of jumping in the middle of an altercation, who'd rather be hit than have to stand by and watch her crew, her family, hit on each other.
Someone to give you a sense of purpose, who pesters and badgers at you until you promise to teach her a little of what you know. Someone who can fill the hours in the black with clumsy little mistakes that endear her, rather than make her ridiculous.
Someone to tease you, to fill the hole in your heart where your family used to bide and ease the way for you to make family of the rest of the crew. Someone to like you, even if others don't, and make you a brother, above a friend.
Someone to like you enough that most of her time is yours, if you are at a loose end as well. Someone who'll curl up next to you during the long cold hours of night when you cannot sleep, who'll laugh and joke with you, who'll give you the unquestioning affection she believes you have earned.
Above all, someone who doesn't ask searching questions without knowing that the fallout may be harsh for both the listener and the speaker. Someone who has a happy word for everyone on board, whose door is always open if you need her. Someone who took to the Nighthawke like a child to a new home, and made the crew family to her, even if they weren't family to one another.
Yes, there are many uses for a healer in the black. She knows this, and so do you. And that is why you answer her smiles and put up with her clumsiness. For without a healer, where would you be?