The psychologist is a bulky, bearded man, the opposite of the small, thin scholar that Mary had expected. However, he seems fairly adept. His voice is soft, and he goes to the beds of soldiers who need him, speaking quietly and scribbling notes on a little notepad.
He comes over to Matthew's bed. "Good morning, Captain Crawley," he says, sounding a little bit too cheerful to the situation.
It has been a quiet morning, almost a peaceful one, although Matthew has been sullen and hardly responsive. He barely lifts his eyes before muttering a spiritless "Good morning."
The psychologist turns to Mary and holds out his hand. "Mrs. Crawley?"
"Oh, I'm not..." Mary begins, and she can feel Matthew's eyes snap to her. "I'm not his wife. His cousin, actually. Lady Mary Crawley."
The psychologist blushes slightly. "Pardon me, Lady Mary. I shouldn't have assumed. In any case, I'm Dr. Carter."
"Thank you for coming," Mary says. The awkwardness of the discussion is causing Matthew to tense up, and Mary puts a hand on his shoulder to relax him.
"Of course," Dr. Carter replies, pulling up a chair. "Captain Crawley, Dr. Clarkson has told me you're having a difficult time coming home."
Matthew shakes his head. "That would be an understatement."
Dr. Carter and Mary raise their eyebrows in unison. "He diagnosed you with shellshock. Now, that's a tricky thing to diagnose, and an even trickier thing to treat. But I'm just going to talk to you for a while, get a sense of what's going on, and then I can see if I concur with Clarkson and we'll go on from there."
The notepad is turned to a new page, Mary notices, with a few words scribbled on it.
Captain Matthew Crawley, age 33
Diagnosed with probable shellshock
Suffers from nightmares and hallucinations
Matthew finally lifts his eyes to look at Dr. Carter. "I don't believe there's anything you can do for me."
Another note is scribbled on the notepad.
Hopelessness/depression
"You have such little faith in medicine."
"My mother is a nurse, my father was a doctor. It didn't save him from dying young, though. His heart gave out when he was just past fifty."
Cynicism
Dr. Carter pressed his lips together and says, "Tell me about how you got injured."
Mary notices the immediately haunted look in Matthew's eyes, and obviously, Dr. Carter does too, because the pen makes a scribbled note again. Thousand-yard stare "It was at Amiens," he says slowly. "But ...I can't quite remember what happened. I know I was in the dugout, about to go over the top, and then... I was in the hospital."
Memory issues.
"How was it for you, coming home during the war?"
Matthew sighs. "Not as bad as some. It was too quiet." He tries to blink away the haunted look. "It just... it doesn't feel real."
Augmented sense of reality.
"It doesn't feel real here?"
"When I was out there, I felt alive. It was an awful existence, but at least I felt like I was alive. It's hard not to, with the bullets whizzing by you and shells under your feet which could explode at any minute... Here, there isn't that feeling, that rush that reminds you that you are alive, however precariously."
"Do you think at all about what your life will be like? In the future?
" "I couldn't think two days ahead of myself when I was staring death in the face. I don't even know what the future is anymore."
"You mention death quite often... did your experience change your view on it?"
Matthew's eyes grow even more haunted than they were before. He stares straight ahead, unblinking, cold. "At the front, men pray to be spared, of course. But if that is not to be, they pray for a bullet to kill them cleanly. And to live, but to be reduced like so many who are injured are... sometimes you wonder if life is really worth it. Sometimes I think the only way we can escape the war is death. Otherwise, it haunts us in everything we are. Sometimes, I think it would have just been better if I had died out there."
Mary is chilled by his words. She is even more chilled by the words that Dr. Carter scribbles down.
Possibly suicidal
She almost can't breathe, listening to him, looking at the words. It hurts her, to think that after all that Matthew has survived, he might not want to survive.
"Captain Crawley, you do realize how lucky you are to have survived?" Dr. Carter asks. He does not look perturbed, but he is very gentle. He knows what he is doing and he does it well.
Matthew slowly turns his eyes to the psychologist. "I know," he finally says, in a strained voice. "It's thanks to William."
"William?"
Matthew begins to get choked up by emotion and he looks to Mary for help. Mary, despite her own emotion, says, "William Mason. He was Matthew's batman, and a footman at our house. He was injured in the same battle that Matthew was, and it appears that his injuries are not survivable."
"He was saving me," Matthew says, his voice little more than a whisper. "He is so young, he has so much life in him... and now he's dying because he saved me."
Survivor's guilt
Dr. Carter presses his lips together. This is, apparently, a sort of story he's heard before. He knows all he needs to know on that subject, and he swiftly changes course. "Captain Crawley, how have you been sleeping lately?"
"Not well," Matthew admits, sounding utterly defeated and worn out. Mary wants to send the psychologist away, to protect him, but she knows that he needs this diagnosis and this help. So she lets him continue on when he is prompted. "Whenever I close my eyes, it seems, I'm back there again."
Nightmares
"Do these only happen when you're sleeping?"
Matthew remembers the Lavinia incident of the day before and shakes his head.
Flashbacks
"What do you think triggers these?" Matthew's face crumples and he shakes his head, trying to fight off tears. "Dammit, I don't know. I feel like an idiot, for being like this."
Volatile emotions
"One of them happened when he heard a pitcher drop and shatter yesterday," Mary says. "Another one happened when he saw blood on his hands."
Reactive to loud noises
Triggered by things associated with war
"How many of these flashbacks have you had?"
Matthew sighs, trying to compose himself again. "I've only been back at Downton a few days, but I've probably had four or five... Apparently, they kept me very sedated on the way back because every time I woke up I thought I was in France again."
Frequent flashbacks
"There's no common thread with all of these?"
"Numbness," he whispers. "If I let myself go numb, if I try not to care, if I try not to think, which is exactly what I had to do in the trenches, I'll slip back there. I did it to stay sane there, but fat lot of good it does me here. But it's so hard, when everything is so painful."
Numbness triggers flashbacks
"How do you feel about going back to civilian life?"
Matthew's eyes glaze over and his hands begin to shake. "It won't leave me," he whispers, his voice shaking as well.
Physical shakiness
"You're alive, and you're going to recover. In that, there's a way to leave behind the war, isn't there?"
"You weren't there," he whispers. "And the man I was before the war... he died out on the battlefield. I'm not the Matthew Crawley they all knew. I'm irrevocably changed by it. I'm different, I'm..."
Identity crisis
Mary puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "No. You're not a different person. You are him, maybe changed, but still him. And you know what? I'm determined to find that Matthew within you, bring him out, because I loved him." She is about to add, "I love you" but thinks better of it before she does. He bites his lip, his eyes welling up. "I feel so lost." "We're going to bring you back home."
Dr. Carter observes the exchange before scribbling down a note.
Support system in form of cousin?- could be immensely helpful
"Lady Mary, may I speak to you for a minute?" Dr. Carter steps away from Matthew's bed and begins to lead her out into the hall.
"Of course, what is it?" Mary asks, her heart beating in her chest.
Dr. Carter doesn't look her in the eye. "I apologize for earlier, it's just, you seem so close to Captain Crawley. Now, I'm not here to interrogate you about your relationship, and I certainly won't disclose anything you tell me. But I'd like to understand his family dynamics better. A lot of times shellshock is made worse by the families either being abusive or cloying."
"I assure you I am not abusive and I have never been accused of being cloying," Mary replies firmly.
"I figured as much." A little hint of a smile shows below the psychologist's bushy dark beard. "But I'd just like to understand."
Mary looks around quickly, to ensure no one is in the hall, and lowers her voice to a near whisper. "We were engaged... or almost engaged, right before the war. He proposed, and I... I made him wait too long. He was... he is a very patient man, but circumstances kept shifting and by the time I realized that I loved him, and that the circumstances didn't matter, it was too late. He left, went off to war, and came back engaged."
"And his fiancee? Are they still engaged?"
Mary shakes her head softly. "As of yesterday, they're not. I don't know if she's still here or not. He had a flashback yesterday, he believed she was a German, and he hit her. He was completely distraught afterward, and adamant that he couldn't marry her. She tried to protest but I think she agreed. She didn't believe she was strong enough to deal with it."
"Are you?" Dr. Carter asks.
"Me?"
"You seem to help him. You calm him, you keep him home and help keep his mind from slipping away. And you don't flinch while doing any of it."
Mary almost laughs, but it lacks humor. "None of that is... I'm just his nurse."
"Were you a nurse previously?"
She cannot say anything.
"I don't need to pry into your personal relationship, Lady Mary. But you help him, and I'm wondering if you're prepared to keep helping him."
"I suppose so..."
Dr. Carter smiles. "Good. Is there anyone else that he's close to, that you think will help him?"
"His mother. She came home from France yesterday. I don't believe she's planning to go back."
He nods and jots something else down on his notepad. "Good, good. Thank you. You see, what he really needs is a support system. I've seen it numerous times throughout the war; the soldiers who don't have family and friends to support them fall apart due to shellshock far more than the soldiers who do. Now, I'm going to speak with Dr. Clarkson and show him what I believe is the best course of action."
"Yes. Alright. Thank you, Dr. Carter."
"I can tell you care about him a great deal. That's good. He has a much better chance thanks to you." He turns and walks down the hall to Clarkson's office.
Isobel shows up right before Carter and Clarkson come out of his office. She looks exhausted, her eyes dark and drooping and her hair a mess, but she seems calmer than the day before, and more determined.
"How did it go?" Isobel asks.
Mary shrugs. "I'm not sure, honestly. He seemed alright when he was talking to Dr. Carter, if a little bit nervous. Dr. Carter said some odd things to me afterward, but I'm not sure if..."
The door opens in front of them and Clarkson pops his head out. "Mrs. Crawley, Lady Mary? Would you like to come in?"
"Me?" Mary asks.
"Dr. Carter requested that you be present." Clarkson looks as confused as Mary feels. She nods and glances at Isobel, who seems completely unperturbed.
"Let's go on in, then," Isobel says, placing a gentle hand on Mary's shoulder.
Mary doesn't know what to do, but she follows Isobel in. She sits down in a leather chair next to Isobel, across from the doctors. Her hands are primly in her lap, and they sweat. A lady doesn't sweat, of course, but in this moment, Mary is not quite a lady. She is anxious and confused and worried. She wants to get back to Matthew, to make sure that he is alright. No doubt the earlier evaluation dragged up some memories that he was trying so hard to suppress.
"I suppose I'll get straight to the point," Dr. Carter says, his words brusque but his voice kindly. "Based on my evaluation, as well as Dr. Clarkson's notes and what both of you have told me, Captain Crawley is shellshocked. I expected as much, as I know you did."
Mary and Isobel nod. Mary feels Isobel's hand reach for hers, and she takes it.
There is a note in Dr. Carter's voice that tells them he is not yet finished. "The extent of the psychological damage is harder to assess," Dr. Carter continues. "Particularly as there is no standard with which to assess the damage. The only standard is where the shellshocked soldier is not sent back..."
"Are you saying he might be sent back?" Mary asks, before she can think. Isobel squeezes her hand to calm her.
"Lady Mary," Dr. Clarkson interjects, "I don't believe Captain Crawley will be sent back because of the injury to his leg. The bone and ligaments were badly damaged and I don't believe they'll heal enough for him to be sent back to the front."
Mary isn't sure whether to sigh in relief or despair.
"No, I'm not concerned about him being sent back," Dr. Carter continues. "If there were not another injury I would be, but he's home now. But, as I said, it is hard to determine the severity of shellshock oftentimes. Because of that, it is often difficult to determine a course of treatment too. Now, for severe cases often the patient is sent to an asylum..."
"No," Isobel interrupts flatly. "You are not sending my son to one of those places. He may be troubled, but he is not insane. He still knows his own mind, he is still very intelligent, and I can't watch him be broken by one of those places."
"I was not planning to suggest that. Personally, I don't believe asylums work very well to rehabilitate the patient, but in cases where the patient is a danger to himself and to others, it is our only choice. Other times, with shellshocked patients, we send them to a convalescent home, as long as home is somewhere quiet and peaceful where they can relax, escape the war, and be surrounded by people who care for them. There are a few homes especially for shellshocked soldiers but I believe that Captain Crawley will be surrounded by enough support in being sent home with you that he should recover."
Isobel nods, but she does not seem convinced.
"I will have a more specific set of instructions for you when he is discharged, but I don't believe any of them will come as a surprise to you."
Mary glances at her lap and then looks up again. "I don't understand why you're telling me this, though. I don't live with him."
Dr. Carter smiles, although it does not comfort Mary much. "You help him immensely. And you care for him. So I figured you should know."
When Mary leaves the room, she is prepared to make a beeline straight for Matthew's bed. However, there is someone in the way of that.
It is Sybil.
Sybil seems anxious and lost, and is clutching her hands. "Mary," she nearly yells when she spots her sister. Another nurse has to remind her to be quiet. "Mary, you need to come home now."
"I need to..."
Sybil doesn't leave any room for argument.
"Now. I'll explain in the car." Mary wants to protest, but there's something in Sybil's face that doesn't allow her to. She simply sighs and follows Sybil out the door.
"What is going on?" Mary asks angrily as Sybil opens the door of the car.
"I'm needed back at the hospital, this better be important."
Sybil silently holds out a piece of paper.
Mary takes it and scans it quickly before stepping in. She is stunned into silence. She pulls Sybil away from the car, along the side of the building. It is not quite private, but it is quieter. I deserve this, she reminds herself, but the letter is so harsh, so self-congratulatory, so awful that she can't help but think that even she doesn't deserve this. "He's publishing," she whispers, although in the back of her mind she realizes that Sybil already knows. She must have read the letter. "He's publishing tomorrow. He sent the draft of the article."
"Bastard," Sybil says, under her breath.
After scanning the article, Mary sighs. "It's been done. Within society, my life is over."
"Couldn't you sue him for libel?" Sybil asks.
"It's all true..." Mary replies, choking on the words.
Sybil snatches the article and looks over it. "You didn't ...kill him, did you?"
"No, not intentionally. He was in my bed and he just... died. I didn't know what was happening. For a long time, I thought it was my fault."
I deserve this.
Sybil shakes her head. "No, this is not your fault."
"Papa will say otherwise. He'll tell me I've brought shame on this family. He might even disown me. Who knows? I probably deserve it anyway."
"Please don't say that."
"Why not?" Sybil puts the article down. "Because you don't deserve it. That man is evil and publishing that story about something that happened when you were very young and very naive and holding you responsible for the outcome is completely unfair. And anyone who cares about you will see that."
"What about Matthew?"
"What about him?"
Mary realizes what she sounds like, so she shakes her head. "Nothing. It's just... I realized that I'll have to tell him."
Well, that text came into the document as one big chunk so I had to spend a while dividing it up into paragraphs (especially since most of my paragraphs are short, especially in this chapter... the curse of being a dialogue heavy writer). So anyway, after all that work I hope you appreciate and enjoy the chapter! Thank you so much for reading, and if you could, please leave a review? It would really make my day!