"I don't need to understand a single thing, Connor," the small woman said evenly, praying she hid the tremor in her voice. "And the only thing you have to understand, is that you don't have to [i]do[/i] anything. You tell them [i]'no.'[/i]" 

Devika had to turn from Connor, her deceptively delicate-seeming hands shaking as she reached for the cupboard above her sink. She did her damndest to slow her breathing while she grabbed an empty tub, some clean towels, and a large irrigation syringe. She set all her supplies aside while she filled the tub with tepid water, trying to give herself a few seconds to collect herself. 

[i]'I can't do this... God help me, I can't do this... '[/i] And it was the still-yet-living faces of the men and women she had not even known [i]existed[/i] before she woke, forced into the living death of stasis day in, and day out, who loomed in her mind's eye. It was those faces that haunted her dreams these past days, the unspeakable suffering, the misery etched into those visages that chased restful sleep far and away, and Devika thought she might be sick.

But rather than wretch up her meager breakfast, she snatched up a small tub, supplies and Steri-strips, and returned to Connor's side. Quickly, she pressed a bright green squishy ball into the palm of his uninjured arm. "Just a stress ball, go ahead and squeeze the heck out of it - usually works pretty well. Watch your hand there, or pick a painting there, while I clean this up."

"Now... Listen to me Connor. There is [i]no one[/i] who can [i]make[/i] you get an MRI. Your brain, your body, it's all your own." She wrapped a towel around the base of his arm, filled a large syringe with water, and began to sluice some of the water from the wound, wiping the bloody excess away with a sterile dressing.

"That doesn't hurt, does it? I need to see the edges, and if they're 'clean' enough? I can probably use Steri-strips instead of regular sutures - in essence, just pull the sides together, tape them in place, and there won't even be any need for lidocaine injections... Anyway... Yes, like I was saying - sure, our home doesn't exist anymore, but that doesn't give the biggest bullies in outer space the right to tell you [i]anything[/i]." Devika set the small tub and the soiled bandages aside as she inspected the cleaned wound. Her gloved fingers gently pushed the edges together, nodding to herself in approval. 

"You tell them that Devika Wilkes-Lane educated you about your right to refuse [i]any[/i] medical treatment or procedure you do not want. The 'science guys' can go fu- ... " Her voice trailed off, and Devika cleared her throat. "They can go get bent," the quietly furious little woman corrected herself quickly.