I'm reposting the chapter because one of my reviewers found a logic error; Marty doesn't have a dog at this point in the story. Thank you blue dogs rock!
Here's a treat for you. I'm posting two days early!
Marty can't sleep and is getting discouraged that he will ever get back to the man he used to be. His nightmares send him into a downward spiral. Will his friends be able to help him?
I only own my original characters which include Mrs. Richardson, Samuel Deeks, David Herrera, Henry Cole, William Watkins, Brian Groves, Richard and Angela Osborne, and Michael McDonald.
All characters from the show are the property of NCIS Los Angeles. Sadly, I will never own the show or the characters.
Anything in italics are thoughts. Anything in bold type is a quote from one of the episodes of the show.
Reviews are always welcome. My minions and I are so pleased with the number of reviews, views, favorites and follows this story has. It's amazing. To my French reviewer: Je vous remercie de votre examen. J'espère que vous avez aimé le chapitre précédent qui a été publiée hier.
If you're enjoying this story, please leave a review.
Enjoy.
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CHAPTER 28: Depression
Marty spent several days in the ICU before his doctor was confident enough in his progress to transfer him to a regular room. He was slowly regaining feeling in his legs so the doctor felt he didn't need to remain in ICU. When Dr. Grieves told Marty, he was encouraged about getting into a regular room.
"Does this mean I'll be home before two much longer, Dr Grieves?" Marty inquired.
"Marty, I've told you before you have to be patient." Dr Grieves hated having to tell Marty he wasn't going to be leaving the hospital soon, but he didn't want to give him false hope. "You'll be in the hospital until you get back on your feet and can walk using a walker without danger of falling. That's going to be about two to two and a half weeks more. You're doing really well; you've regained quite a bit of feeling in your legs already, but you're not ready to get out of bed just yet."
"Yeah, I know. I was just hoping for some good news. I miss the beach. I really don't want to be here." Marty was losing his positive outlook on life the longer he had to lay in that bed. He hated being dependent on anyone and he could feel himself losing hope. He was fighting the feeling with everything he had, but nothing seemed to be working.
"Hang in there Marty, you'll be back on your feet before you know it."
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When Brian came by that evening, he could tell Marty was down. He tried to get Marty to talk to him.
"Hey Marty, why the long face?"
"I'm just tired Brian. It hasn't been one of my better days, I guess." Marty glanced at Brian and then quickly looked away. He didn't want Brian to see just how down he was. Brian was nothing if not observant and Marty really didn't feel like another pep talk at that very moment. He knew Brian meant well, but sometimes he was overbearing.
"You do realize you're getting better every day, right?" Brian asked.
"If you say so Brian." Marty grumbled. "No, wait, I didn't mean to say that. I know I'm getting better. I'm just missing the beach today. The radio said the swells were wicked but I can't be out there surfing right now. I guess it hit me harder than I expected, that's all."
Brian knew how much Marty hated being in the hospital. They had discussed a few of the times Marty had ended up there as a child. Every time Marty confided in him some small thing from that time in his life, Brian wanted to find his old man and bury him. He also could tell Marty was trying hard to stay positive about his situation. He was keeping most of his feelings hidden, but at least he had admitted to missing the beach. Brian was encouraged by that much openness on his part. "I know you miss surfing. I can't help with that but I did bring you the latest surf magazine. I thought you would enjoy reading it."
"Wow, Brian. That was really thoughtful. Maybe there's hope for you yet. One of these days, I plan on seeing you out on the water." Right at that moment in time, Marty didn't know whether or not he would be with Brian when that time came, but he quickly shoved that depressing thought to the very back of his mind. "I think maybe I'll save the magazine until tomorrow while you're at work, okay? That way, I have something to look forward to."
"Sounds like a plan my man. So, how much more feeling have you regained in your legs?"
"I have pins and needles in my knees now. It's driving me crazy if you must know. I really need a distraction. Did you bring your chess set?"
"Sure did. You ready to get whipped brother?" Brian fancied himself as a great chess player. He was good, but Marty was better.
"In your dreams Brian, in your dreams!" Marty quipped. His heart wasn't in it, but Brian didn't need to know that.
They played best three out of five games. Marty let Brian win one game just to make sure they could play five games. By the end, Marty had won three games to Brian's two. Brian noticed Marty becoming sleepy and decided to call it a night.
"See you tomorrow night, Marty."
"Yeah, Brian. Maybe we can play some more chess. You're getting better all the time."
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It took two weeks before Marty was able to get out of bed to begin the process of relearning how to walk. Having to be catheterized for days and then having to use bed pans until he could get out of bed with help contributed to his deepening feelings of not only helplessness but hopelessness. Even after he was out of bed using a walker, he wasn't allowed to go to the bathroom unless a nurse was there to help him navigate the walker into the room. For a man as proud and independent as Marty was to have to have help to go to the bathroom was galling. He wasn't allowed to shower without help which not only embarrassed him since most of his nurses were women, but pissed him off as well. His feelings of hopelessness increased and pushed him into a downward spiral. He began to feel like he would never be able to walk normally or be independent again. That brought on fears of becoming disabled and losing his career as a cop.
Feeling helpless brought back old demons from his childhood. The terror he had felt as a young child began to invade his mind at all hours of the day and especially at night. He began replaying old beatings in his mind no matter how hard he tried not to think of them. He remembered all the times he had been in the hospital and then returned to the horror that was his childhood life. His father's cruel words to him as a child when he would beat Marty while screaming at him that he was worthless, a pansy or that everything that happened to him was his fault began playing like a broken record in his mind.
The memories began tearing at the scars on his soul making them turn into open sores which weeped many of his old nightmares instead of blood; nightmares that he thought were behind him. They began haunting his sleep and making him dread the coming night as he watched the sun slip below the horizon each evening and the day turn dark and foreboding. He began fighting sleep because the nightmares woke him up every night; sometimes several times a night, screaming. The screams would bring the nurses into his room to try to soothe him which only made him more embarrassed and depressed.
The lack of sleep deepened his depression as he continued focusing on losing everything that he thought most important in his life. He came to believe he would never again be the man he once was. He began snapping at his nurses to leave him alone every time they came in his room.
His doctor and the nurses taking care of him were becoming very concerned about his health as the days passed by. He quit eating because nothing looked good to him and tasted flat, almost stale. Once he quite eating, he began losing weight he couldn't afford to lose becoming weaker while losing the ground he had already gained since waking up in ICU.
He wasn't sleeping at all if he could help it because of his nightmares. He was terrified every time he had one and he would wake covered in sweat if not screaming out in terror. His doctor prescribed sleeping pills in the hope they would help him sleep, but instead of helping him, they only made the nightmares worse; preventing him from waking from them easily. When he was finally able to fight free of a nightmare's grip, he found he would be screaming and unaware of where he was. He would be curled up in a fetal position in the bed with his arms covering his head rocking back and forth and trying to convince himself that they weren't real. The problem was they were real horrifying memories of his childhood; memories that were beginning to completely take over his mind.
If Angela happened to be in the room when he woke from one of his nightmares, she would be able to soothe him by hugging him tightly and whispering reassurances to him that he was safe and she would watch over him. The problem was that she couldn't be there every night. He began thinking he was going insane, so he refused to take the sleeping pills any longer. When Dr. Grieves tried to convince him to continue taking them, he threw the pills and the water across the room while screaming at him to get out.
As his depression deepened, he quit trying to walk. No one could get him to try. Even Brian had no luck. He lay in bed and wouldn't even try to get out of it. Once Brian pushed too hard to get him to try walking and the results weren't pretty.
"Marty, come on, stop acting like a child and get out of this bed. I'll help you, you just have to try." Brian didn't realize he was just making matters worse. Marty wasn't in the right frame of mind to hear 'stop acting like a child' or 'you just have to try'.
His temper went ballistic as his anger exploded and Brian was the target. "You don't know shit Brian! You have no idea of what I'm feeling or thinking. I'm not a child, I'm crippled! You just don't get it, do you? Get the hell out of my room and leave me alone! I don't need your pie in the sky attitude. Just get the hell out!"
Brian was rocked back on his heels at Marty's word and tried to repair some of the damage he knew he had just caused. "Marty, I'm only trying to help you. Can't you see that?"
"Get out! I don't want your help and I don't want you here!"
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No one could get through to Marty. A few days after he quit trying to walk, he quit talking as well. At first he would turn his head away whenever one of his friends came into his room so he wouldn't have to look at them. No matter what they said or did, he would ignore them. All of his friends were worried but Brian blamed himself because of the fight they had had before he quit talking.
They tried everything, but nothing they said seemed to get through to him. As his depression deepened, Marty would either pretend to be asleep or simply ignore their presence whenever one of his friends came to visit him.
As days passed with Marty completely silent, Angela became afraid he would become suicidal. She was beside herself with worry about his state of mind. Nothing she did seemed to help. She talked to his doctor and his nurses to see if they had any ideas, but what they would suggest were things she had already tried. She could see him slipping away from everyone more every day. She did everything she could think of to get him to realize he was getting better every day, but he couldn't see it. She would hug him and rub his back while whispering reassurances in his ear. She would tell him about her kids and what was going on outside of the hospital. He would at least look at her instead of ignoring her like he did everyone else, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. It was like he had forgotten how to talk or interact with people. The most she could get out of him was a smile that didn't reach his eyes. She 'snuck' in home-cooked food for him, trying to tempt him to eat but he would only take a bite or two just to please her and after a while he wouldn't even do that anymore. Hank and Wat weren't having any better luck when they visited.
When Marty had been silent for almost a week, Dr. Grieves took action. As his attending physician, Dr. Greaves talked to Marty's friends and laid out all of the concerns the doctors and nurses who were involved in Marty's care had. He told them if Marty didn't start eating and sleeping he was going to have to intervene and try a different approach which would include a tube down his throat to supply some nourishment to his system. He told them he was seriously thinking about transferring Marty to the psych ward for his own protection. Everyone was concerned he might become suicidal if he didn't pull out of his depression. Since Brian was designated as Marty's next-of-kin, he was elected as the spokesman for Marty's friends. He was able to talk Dr. Greaves out of immediately transferring Marty to the psych ward and told him he would get through to him somehow. Brian asked him to hold off for one day and assured Dr. Greaves that if Marty didn't come around and show significant improvement in that time, he would sign any paperwork necessary to get him the help he needed.
Brian had already made the decision to intervene before Dr. Greaves talked to them all. He had watched as Marty become more and more depressed and felt helpless. Feeling helpless didn't sit well with Brian and he was still feeling guilty for what he said about Marty acting like a child just before Marty quit talking. He thought it was his fault and that he had pushed Marty over the edge. He hadn't realized how scared Marty was of being a cripple and a burden to his friends and he thought he should have.
After leaving the meeting with Dr. Greaves, Brian and Marty's other friends discussed what approach he should take. Various ideas were put forth and discussed, but the only one that seemed to be agreeable to everyone but Brian was for Brian to try to get through to Marty by approaching him as somewhat of a drill instructor in boot camp.
Brian didn't want to but after all of them talked it over, he agreed that it was the best plan they had. He would have to get even tougher with Marty to make him see that he was not only hurting himself but his friends as well. Marty was wallowing in self pity, even if he couldn't see that, and was being an absolute pain in the ass to everyone trying to help him before he quit talking. Afterward it was like he had given up, and it couldn't be allowed to continue. He had thrown more than one tantrum when the doctors tried to get him to do something he didn't want to do, throwing things and screaming for them to leave him alone.
Brian walked into Marty's room to put the plan they had come up with into motion. Marty wouldn't even look at him when Brian tried to talk to him. Instead he turned his face away, causing Brian to lose his temper spectacularly. Elizabeth had been sitting with Marty trying to get through to him when Brian went off on him.
Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing her brother say. She told everyone later that it was epic. She had never seen her brother that angry.
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"Goddamn it to hell Marty! What did I tell you, you dumbass! You're getting better every day and its time to man up and quit acting like a spoiled brat!" he yelled while standing right in front of Marty and glaring at him. "I know you're scared. I would be too. In fact I am scared. All of us are. We're scared you're giving up. You should see Angela; she's out of her mind with worry about you. How can you do that to her of all people? I know you hate being here in the hospital and having to depend on others to help you do everything, but it's what family does. We're all here to help you if you'll only let us."
Brian looked at his sister and motioned for her to leave the room. "I've been elected to talk to you. We all discussed it and you can consider this an intervention if you want to. I'm not going to let this continue Marty. If I have to, I'll get physical with you if that's what it takes to get through to you."
Brian wasn't going to give up until Marty finally admitted how he was really feeling. He had sent his sister out of the room earlier because he didn't think she needed to be there to see Marty became emotionally distraught and he was sure by the time he was done, Marty would be. Marty still wouldn't look at Brian or talk to him. He continued laying there staring at the wall as Brian tried to get through to him.
Brian continued talking; trying to convince Marty that he was going to get better; in fact he had already made a lot of progress, but he couldn't see it. As Brian continued talking, Marty started running his hands through his hair and picking at the IV site. Brian reached over and grabbed his face trying to get Marty to look him in the eyes. "Marty, look at me…come on look at me!" Brian begged. When Marty continued to look anywhere other than at Brian, he bent down and looked into Marty's eyes while continuing to hold Marty's face so he couldn't look away again.
As soon as he had Marty's attention, he continued "Talk to me, please. Like I said, I know you're scared and depressed, but believe me, it will help if you get it off your chest man. No one else will ever know what you say right now if you don't want them to, not even Angela. It will be just between you and me. We're brothers. I love you and it's killing me to see you like this. You have got to help me help you, you dumbass. Come on; let me help, please." Brian continued begging.
"Leave me alone Brian, please, just leave me alone. I'm not worth it. I should never have been born" Marty whispered as he finally met Brian's eyes with a haunted look on his face. His voice was rusty with disuse, but Brian could understand what he was saying. "I'm not worth it…my old man was right…I'm worthless, a waste. I'm useless. What happened to me is my fault. I should never have been born," he repeated.
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