A/N: Hi Everyone! It was confirmed by one of the readers that the Private Messages, indeed, do not get notifications vie email anymore. I have no idea why; it might be a glitch or something.
So please check your accounts for any private messages, especially if you reviewed. I try to answer all of them, unless they are from Guests, where I can't physically do that because there are no accounts to PM at.
Anyway, enough of my rambling. On to the story!
Barnacles was in his room. It was daytime, so the windows did not scare him nearly as much. Sometimes, it still overwhelmed him; and he had to go to the hallway. Other times, like now, he would be ok. He could see danger. It was just night, when he couldn't see, that overwhelmed him every single time.
Barnacles pondered pensively as he lay on his bed. Couldn't they think of him as not the Captain? He reached up, as if trying to get something that he had lost a long time ago. But then he let his arm fall, crashing down, onto the pillow next to his head.
When was the last time they had just called him by his name? Not "Captain Barnacles," or "Cap," but just "Barnacles." He knew they didn't mean anything offensive by it, and it was a bit flattering that they trusted him so much. But he wasn't only a leader. He wasn't perfect.
He shut his eyes.
But it felt like he had to be.
He winced as he thought of Kwazii's and Peso's voices, when they thought he believed they couldn't save the manatee. Barnacles had to always smile, be the calm one, never phased, when all he wanted now was to crawl away and fade. Yet, he couldn't really do that. He made a promise to protect others with his life, and this was the place where he was most needed. So with a deep breath, he got up. He would have to keep going.
Yet after his mental exchange, he felt even more faded than ever before. And the feeling only increased.
Lunch started.
Barnacles started to play a little game. It had to be that, because otherwise it was too horrible. The game was "sneak how little food you can eat without it being unacceptable." The goal was to get no one to notice. That was always the goal in his life, it seemed.
He found that leaving half of a plate was good, as long as he piled it in such a way that it looked like it didn't cover much of the plate.
Even then, he still wasn't hungry.
He sighed, shame filling him again.
He could easily eat seconds, before. But it was always before, wasn't it?
Anger flared, but he breathed it out.
Hey, at least he didn't have to worry about gaining weight.
At this point, he would take any silver lining.
He would frequently get tense during meals; maybe a line of You're stupid or You messed up on the conversation! would pass through his mind and make his muscles taught and anxiety spike. He would then discreetly put his paws underneath the table and, putting one paw a little bit under the sleeve, dig his claws into his forearm. It was only the part next to his wrist, so he didn't have to pull the sleeve back much. He did it discreetly, face as serene as could be, while he inwardly focused on the pain and try to calm down. Or punish himself for any mishaps, whichever the situation popped up first.
He always made sure he didn't bleed. With his claws and polar bear strength, he always had to be careful with that. Later, when he was alone and could see his arm undeterred, he usually saw nothing. The marks would usually go away, hours later after they finished a mission. But sometimes- sometimes, he could still see the indents, pink and hot and unhappy. He would cover them again with the cold suit and go on his way, another brick on the pile of shame. But he never could seem to stop, and he was too tired to fight it all the time.
He just wanted this to end.
Tunip noticed that the Captain did not eat as much as he used to.
Hey, it was his job. They had to anticipate how much food they had to prepare per meal, after all.
It had taken the yellow Vegimal by surprise. He took a good, long look at the Captain. He didn't seem different. Sure, maybe a little tired - there were bags under his eyes- but he still seemed jovial, talking warmly with the crew.
Tunip furrowed his brow.
He's gonna have to keep an eye on that.