Challenge #02275-F085: To Share Caring
An Alien crew of Havenworlders tries to help their security-officer (a Human) to cope with PTSD-Flashbacks, Anxiety and Panic-Attacks. -- Anon Guest
The ship's Human had been sedated after the Upset. They lay now in the darkened recovery room with gently glowing screens displaying the words, You are safe, in the Human's home tongue. They would wake, eventually, but the trepidation amongst the Leseu crew was - what had happened to their Human?
Pack-bonding can happen in both directions.
Doctor Slysse faced a group of concerned, reptilian faces. "Human Hen is sleeping for now. Having consulted the reference material, I... I have to give the diagnosis of post-traumatic stress."
They didn't know precisely what it meant, but it definitely sounded bad. Th'ssi asked, "How did it happen?"
"Some traumas are especially shocking to the Human mental system," said Dr Slysse, dumbing it down for her audience. "From what we could decipher of Human Hen's vocal outcries, this particular trauma stems from the surprise meteor shower in Ankhthos V."
The crew winced. They'd all lost their tails in that one, and their Human had carried more than half of them into proper shelter, shielding some with her body as she went, but... "We all survived that," noted T'tenk.
"Humans have a natural inclination to recall bad incidents. This... This was apparently too close a call for Human Hen."
Hisses of alarm. A few frills raised in agitation. They had had no idea. Of course they didn't, because Humans had a bad habit of concealing their hurts until the last possible instant.
"We're going to be working with her to identify the list of triggers and potential calming maneuvers. The finished bulletin will be going out on shipwide comms."
Humans were supposed to be indomitable. When they broke, Humans broke hard. It took a lot to kill them, physically, but their minds could be more of a weak point. Sometimes, Humans could break without so much as a mark on them.
Human Hen could still be as strong and agile as ever, but certain things could trip her horrible memories of a worst day of her life. Descending whistles, for instance, or unannounced bass impact noises. Even a sharp crash of breaking china or glassware could get her leaping to cover the nearest Leseu from imagined danger.
The entire crew of the Scenting Tongue loved Human Hen and didn't want her shipped off to a therapy complex.
So they changed their ways for her. They changed all whistle-codes for long-distance and urgent communication aboard the ship. They recycled all glass and china in the matter disassemblers and replaced them with more resilient materials. Metal trenchers and cups, with insulation layers where necessary.
Most importantly, members of the crew were more demonstratively grateful to Human Hen, giving her more than the requisite eight positive touches. They would ask, of course, and thank her for her bravery.
It worked.
Little by little, their Human was healing. It was never a straight path, there were bad days and there were excellent days, and they always took care to heed Human Hen when she fretted aloud about their relative safety.
It's the little things, she would later tell them, that meant the most.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / GMPhotos]
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Aww what a sweet bunch of adorable lizards! ^_^
Family can be a bunch of lizards and their ship's Human.