Our Minds and Hearts to Heal

Mary Elliott

Chapter 1

The first clue Chip Morton had that Seaview's Skipper was on the boat was the thump of a bag dropping on the deck from the spiral staircase. He looked up, startled. He hadn't been informed of anyone coming aboard. Thus he was surprised, to say the least when he recognized the battered grey duffle. Lee wasn't due back on board for several hours yet.

Chip took one look at the face of his captain and friend and knew something had gone terribly wrong on the ONI mission. Seaview had not been needed this time to come to the rescue, much to the relief of the crew. The XO had taken this as a sign they would be getting back their Skipper in good shape; now he wasn't so sure. Lee was pale but it was the look of torment in his eyes that worried Chip.

"Status of the boat, Mister Morton?" queried the captain in a taut but steady voice.

"Supplies are loaded and all crew members have reported for duty. We were just waiting for your arrival from Washington, Captain. You're early, sir."

"Yeah, got lucky, somebody didn't show up for the first flight." Lee swept his eyes across the control room and said, "Very well, prepare to get underway, increase speed to 30 knots after clearing the breakwater. Set our initial course bearing 258 degrees and keep her at 90 feet."

Lee turned and started to leave. Looking up from the charts, the XO did a double take. There were stitches on Lee's hairline, and as the captain bent up to pick up his duffle bag, Chip could see several healing scabs on his hands. He lightly placed a hand on Lee's sleeve. "Are you all right?"

At first, Lee acted like he hadn't heard him. Then, he sighed and said, "Come to my cabin after you've set the watch, Chip."

An hour later Chip was knocking on the captain's door. Entering the darkened room he unconsciously flipped the wall light switch and was surprised to see his friend not at the desk. Chip noticed the unusual sight of the compulsively neat Lee's uniform jacket tossed half on a chair and half on the floor. Turning his head slightly he found Lee laying on the bunk, his right arm hanging straight next to his side and his left arm draped over his eyes. Chip pushed the Skipper's legs aside and sat down.

"Okay, spill it, buddy. How bad are you hurt?"

It was a well-known fact that his executive officer could be tenacious regarding his captain's well-being, so Lee reluctantly removed the arm from his eyes, squinting against the glare of the ceiling lights.

"I have a pounding headache, the result of a concussion. The doctor didn't approve of my leaving the hospital but I promised to stay off duty for 48 hours. You and O'Brien can handle the boat for the next two days. It's only a standard supply run to Sea Lab 2."

Chip looked at him in disbelief.

"You're staying in bed for two days without Jamie or the admiral threatening you? It must be one hell of a headache. Why don't I believe there isn't more to the story? By the way, have you checked in with Jamie?" Lee started to get out of bed but Chip pushed him back. "I thought you said 48 hours."

"Doesn't mean I have to stay in bed. Besides, the headache is starting to go away. It was the rushing to make the plane and then the actual flying that aggravated the concussion. No, I haven't talked to Jamie; don't worry, the doctor said he was contacting him. Guess he didn't trust me. I'm surprised Jamieson hasn't tracked me down already."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the cabin door. They smiled at each other, and then Chip got up and opened the door to let in Seaview's doctor. He grinned as he motioned to the bed.

"Lee's being a good little Skipper, relaxing in his bunk just like the doctor ordered. He's already informed me I'm in command for the next two days. So you can save the lectures, Jamie. He's fine, except for a headache."

Seaview's medical officer mimed a double take. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Captain Crane?"

Lee weakly smiled at the lame old joke.

"My head hurts and I'm too tired to fight you this time, Jamie. I'm going to rest without an argument."

Dr. Jamieson crossed over to the bunk and looked down at the young man.

"If you are really going to stay in your cabin without a fight you must be in worse shape than Doctor Kimber reported. I want to examine you. Chip, why don't you come back in half an hour?"

Before Chip had a chance to answer, Lee exploded in anger. "NO! Just leave me alone, Jamie! I told you I'm tired and have a headache; there's nothing else wrong with me," he cried out in an agitated tone, abruptly rising up to a sitting position,pressing his hand against the bulkhead wall as awave of dizziness hit him.

The sudden and violent outburst startled everybody. Dr. Jamieson raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, can I just do a quick neuro exam? Two minutes tops and I'll stop pestering you."

"GET OUT! Leave me alone!" Lee burst out again, grabbing his head with both hands. He groaned and fell back on the bunk in pain, turning his back on both officers. "Please, just leave!" he implored.

Jamieson tossed his bag onto the bed and opened it as he directed Chip to pull up Lee's sleeve. Quickly filling a syringe, he tried to swab the arm with alcohol. With Lee attempting to pull away, Chip held the arm still.

"Come on, Skipper, don't fight us. This is the same medication they gave you in the hospital. It will relax you and help with the pain."

Lee stopped resisting and after the injection, Jamie rubbed Lee's arm in a soothing manner. "The shot should work very rapidly, just lay back and let the meds work their magic."

The doctor felt the tension ease from Lee's overwrought body. Jamie checked Lee's pulse and satisfied, he picked up his bag and motioned Chip to leave.

"Lee, if you need anything, just give me a holler."

Lee didn't look up. "Thanks, Chip. I'll be fine."

You don't look or act fine, Chip thought. He was heading for the control room, but a meeting with Jamie first was definitely in order. He'd wait.

Jamie had a few more instructions to give before leaving himself. "Okay, Skipper. I'm going to let you be. I'll check back with you later. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, pain's letting up some," Lee said, his voice flat. "Sorry I jumped down your throat, Doc."

"I'll overlook it this time. Try to get some sleep, it's the best thing for you. You know the drill, eat and rest, and that means no paperwork, at least not for today. Chip will give you the report on the boat's status when he brings dinner. If I find out you are not obeying orders you get the joy of an IV, clear?"

"Chip is already in command so why don't you get off my back! I don't need you smothering me, constantly trying to control my actions! I just want to be left alone - can YOU understand that!"

"Captain, I think we all know this isn't normal behavior for you, so I'll let that slide. Take a shower, get into bed and I'll see you later in the day. I'll send Frank along just to make sure you're following instructions."

"Jamie, I don't need a babysitter."

"Then act like it."

Chip had the words out a second after Jamieson closed the cabin door. "What's going on with him, Jamie? I've seen Lee in bad shape, but never like this. What exactly is wrong?"

"If I'm correct in my diagnosis, this could be really serious, Chip. Lee needs to rest, and not get upset. If he continues to ignore his symptoms his career could be over."

Chip let that sink in, his thoughts in a whirl. Trying to make sense of it all, he said, "But Lee's had concussions before, so have I."

"Have either of you ever overreacted the way you just saw? I'll know more once I talk to Dr. Kimber. He has all the films and was able to perform a thorough examination."

"What do you suspect, Jamie?"

"He's showing all the classic signs of post concussive syndrome, or PCS. Many patients with PCS have trouble just getting out of bed. It could last six months or six years, it could beach him permanently. Wait, wait, I'm not saying that's what's going to happen," Jamie added as Chip rounded on him. "There is one drug, amitriptyline, that has shown to be helpful but unfortunately one of the side effects is increased depression, insomnia, nightmares, that sort of thing. Kimber said that Lee refused to talk to him about this last mission. I'm going to need your help with that."

"I had a feeling when he came on board that something really bad happened on that last assignment. So his shrugging it off as nothing could be because something else is going on, something we don't know anything about," Chip mused. "And nightmares to boot. Great."

"It's going to be tough. You've got to walk a thin line when you try to draw him out. He's already upset with you being in temporary charge. He's going to hit the roof when I tell him he's unfit for command for the entire cruise."

"I'll do my best, Jamie but we both know how pigheaded Lee becomes regarding his health. Let me know as soon as you have a definite diagnosis."

When Frank arrived at Lee's cabin, he got right to the point. "Do you want to take a shower or just go to bed, Captain?"

"Bed with a pit stop to the head," Lee decided, slowly rising from his bunk. Frank stepped to his side ready to help if needed.

Angered, Lee snapped, "I think I can it handle this on my own, if you don't mind."

"Okay, I'll lay out your pajamas; just don't lock the door in case you fall flat on your face, sir." The tone was light, teasing; the doc had emphasized upsetting the Skipper as little as possible.

Soon Lee returned and glared at Frank, daring him to just try to undress him.

"Standing by if needed, sir," the corpsman commented with exaggerated military formality.

Lee didn't have much trouble removing his shirt and putting on the pajama top, but his sense of balance being off, the pants were a different matter. He could not understand why the problems were happening now. He'd left the hospital and flown back on his own with no troubles. He didn't want to admit it but besides the dizziness, the headaches were increasing in intensity and frequency. Surrendering, he held the offending garment out to the corpsman.

Frank got the Skipper's feet through the openings and pulled the legs up to the knees letting the Skipper finish the job and keep in command of the situation. Wisely, he didn't comment on the numerous black and blue bruises that appeared on the Skipper's chest and back, but the doc would be getting a detailed report.

"Okay, Captain, I need to get your vitals and do a quick neuro exam then I'm out of here. I'll be by every couple of hours to check on you." Frank efficiently completed his tasks, took the tray from the desk and left. Before he had turned off the lights Lee was asleep.

He tossed and turned in his sleep as the images invaded his dream.

Pete, it's a trap! Get away, run … damn, too late.… Where's the screaming coming from? Girl, no! Don't stop… no… Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know.

"Peter, help me… give me cover... Jesus, where are they? Pete, for God's sake lay down some cover fire... cover me!

"COVER ME!"

Lee jerked up screaming, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. Finally able to stand on shaky legs he made his way to the head to splash cold water on his face. He filled a glass and emptied it in rapid gulps. Lee struggled out of his top and left it on the floor where it fell. The pounding in his head was at a frantic pace as he stumbled back towards the bed, collapsing facedown on it, one foot dangling off the side. The medication and exhaustion sent him to sleep almost at once.

Frank returned for the first check and found the light on in the head and pajama top on the floor. He managed to arouse the Skipper significantly enough to put on fresh clothes and assure himself Lee was all right. Frank got his patient into a more comfortable position, covering him with a blanket. He debated leaving but the Skipper was apparently resting peacefully for the time. He would report to Dr. Jamieson, suggesting hourly visits.

The doctor paused momentarily before knocking on Lee's door. He knew the usual game the two of them played following one of the captain's injuries would be more intense this time.

"Enter!"

"How are you feeling, Skipper? Anything hurting other than your head? I see you're following my orders to rest and take it easy. It'll also help to heal all those bruises sooner than later."

"I'm fine, just fine. Obviously, Nurse Frank has been running his mouth off again," Lee growled. No way was he telling Jamie about the nightmare, especially with what the doc knew about the other injuries. Besides, he remembered only snatches of it himself. "I keep telling everyone over and over. But nobody will believe me and I'm getting a little sick and tired of it. After all, I was able to travel from DC all by my little 'ol self. Don't know why I have to be laying down all the time."

Knowing that Lee would probably continue with his tirade, but determined, the doctor spoke in a quiet but firm voice. "Skipper, with all due respect, how can you say you're alright? Sure you made the trip, but at what cost? Do you realize how strong that earlier injection was? I'm amazed you are coherent already. You need to relax. Dr. Kimber stitched you up some, it's easy to see that, but you've managed to keep the rest pretty well hidden - your usual M.O. If I had known you were injured, I would have sent the flying sub to bring you home, rather than let you run around airports, aggravating your concussion. I'm concerned about your behavior. You're not acting like yourself, Lee. Is something more going on with you then the head injury? It's the mission that's got you in such turmoil, isn't it? If you don't trust me at least talk to Chip or the admiral. Getting it off your chest will help."

The captain unsteadily got to his feet and started to pace back and forth, not looking at the doctor. He had to stop as the anvils inside his head resumed pounding. But they weren't loud enough to drown out Drake's last words to him: You did what… you had to do. Lee… I messed up ... you're a good friend ... I really messed up … It's not your fault... I'm sorry..."

Lee came back to the present trying to push away the haunting memories. Leaning against the desk and with his back to Jamie, Lee answered in a dead voice. "It was a tough one, Jamie. Some people lived, some people died."

He didn't want to talk to Jamieson or anyone else, not until he could push the pain of the betrayal to the back of his mind. That had included the shrink at his debriefing. He had given the psychiatrist the standard answers, the ones they always wanted to hear so he could be sent out on another mission. He did what he had to do, the security of the US, perhaps that of their allies, dictating his actions.

Sighing, Jamie shook his head. "I think there's more to this story than that. But I know when I'm not getting answers. You can't be responsible for everything. It is an unfortunate fact good people sometimes die violently, no matter how hard you try to prevent it. There's a lot of evil in this imperfect world of ours."

Crane whirled around and faced the other man. Anger, bitterness and resentment flashed quickly over his face. Lee could feel his control slipping once more, as the harsh words gushed out of his mouth like lava spewing out of an erupting volcano.

"Drop it, Doc, just drop it! Nothing happened that you need to concern yourself with. I keep telling everyone that I have a headache and I'm tired. Why won't anyone listen to me and just let me alone? This is what you always want, isn't it, Jamie? Trying to lock me away in my cabin; not allowing me to do my job!"

Jamie looked stunned at the ferocious outburst, and took a step backwards. Lee, ashamed of his words, immediately regretted the Jekyll and Hyde reaction. If he couldn't quickly get a grip on himself, the doctor might truly consider locking him away; at least, order him to Sick Bay on a 24–7 observation. The violent verbal outburst sounded almost paranoid to his own ears. Rubbing his temples in pain, the excruciating headache at critical stage, he stumbled over and sat down in the desk chair. His command of military discipline had enabled him to keep control over his emotions until he'd left Washington; why was it letting him done now?

"I'm a little light headed, and my head's killing me, are you happy?"

"I'm not the enemy, Lee. I'm just trying to help. Take this and get back into bed, that's the best place for you right now."

Responding to the quietly spoken words, Lee swallowed the two Tylenol tablets Jamie placed in his hand. "I know, Jamie, I know you are." He returned to the bed hating what Drake had taken away from him.

Chip had not enjoyed the briefing that Jamieson gave him. After his latest confrontation with the captain, Dr. Jamieson had spoken with Dr. Kimber, and they both agreed Lee was showing all the signs of post-concussive syndrome; severe headaches, dizziness, and the bad temper. The only good sign was the tests Dr. Kimber had ordered while Lee was at Walter Reed Hospital showed no skull fracture or intracranial bleeding. Lee had downplayed his symptoms, tricking the doctors into releasing him early. They didn't know him as well as Seaview's doctor did, Jamieson noted wryly.

Now was not the best time for Admiral Nelson to be at Pearl Harbor for meetings, fumed the XO. Jamie agreed not to call the admiral until morning, after he had again talked with Lee. Only then, would he be able to give a complete picture of what they were facing.

Lee had an extraordinary sense of duty; he always felt responsible if events did not go as planned. Chip had experienced the captain's brooding over past assignments. He knew Lee would be racked with guilt if innocent people had lost their lives on the mission. Now with the complication of PCS, that guilt would be magnified. Once more, the XO cursed Admiral Johnson and the ONI for dragging his friend into another one of their messes.