A/N: This chapter has references to the episode "The Octonauts and the Marine Iguanas."
Barnacles arrived in the kitchen through the Octochute. He felt a bit uncomfortable; his cold suit was more loose than normal. He had already tightened his belt. He mentally sighed and looked down at himself. He was always at a healthy weight, before. At this point, he knew for sure that his lack of appetite was getting out of hand. But he forced himself to stay composed, smile, and keep going. No one was noticing, so it could not be that bad.
The polar bear did his rounds, walking around the kitchen and talking to the Vegimals, seeing if everything was alright. They needed some new cutting boards. He wrote that down; they'll order it as soon as possible.
He looked across the room at Tunip, who was at the counter on a stool. The chop chop of carrots seemed to draw him to the spot, and the glint of the sharp knife kept his gaze.
He had always wanted to fade away...
It took a few moments, but he forced himself to look away.
Later that night, Barnacles was in the kitchen, when everyone was asleep.
Barnacles looked down at the knife in the drawer. He considered it, but then briskly turned away and paced, hitting his head as he went. Stupid, don't think like that! He pulled up his sleeves and scratched his arms. With his fur, not all of the scratches were visible, but he could feel the stinging sensation.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" he whispered angrily in time with the scratches. It was so tempting to scream his frustrations, but he needed to make sure no one would wake up, would hear him. He almost wished he could truly be alone, so he didn't have to keep it all in.
Maybe then I could even make myself bleed...
With great effort, he put a stop to that train of thought. It's tempting, but he had told himself that he wouldn't go that far. He wouldn't cross that line.
If that's the case, then why would you jump right past cutting yourself and consider suicide, you hypocrite?
His heart seized in panic at the thought of not having the chance to escape this world, of having to stay here.
I don't have the self discipline for that, he thought flatly, though he couldn't find it in him to be upset about that. This was probably a bad sign, that he was thinking about death like this; but he didn't really care. He was too worn out.
He looked back at the drawer. Though he felt this way, he knew it was wrong to put an end to himself. He still had it in him to resist, to fight; and he would.
And, he thought, closing the drawer and walking out of the room, if it doesn't get better, then I'll do it. Then I'll escape.
"I think we need to make a new safety protocol," the Captain said one morning.
"Protocol?" Dashi asked, following him into the kitchen.
"Yes," he said, and pulled out a drawer. Inside were the utensils and knives. "I was thinking about that one time," he continued, "when marine iguanas snuck into the Octopod and stole our seaweed. They could have gotten in here and hurt themselves. I think these should be locked up, and the Vegimals should be the only ones to have the key."
Oh yes, that happened during their second annual seaweed feast.
"That... makes sense, Captain..." Dashi said, but something seemed off.
One, that happened countless months ago, way before the -she internally shuddered- Bánaithe Serpent Incident.
Two, the marine iguanas hadn't even gotten close to opening that drawer. She was certain they probably weren't capable of it. Of course, if any other creatures snuck in here, then there was a big chance they would be able to open drawers. So she guessed that made sense.
Three, this would be a job of maintenance, which was what Tweak is in charge of. For some reason, the polar bear asked her, not the rabbit.
But fourth...
The Captain seemed off. She couldn't figure out exactly what, but she could feel it. Something was definitely wrong.
"I think the Vegimals shouldn't be the only ones with a key," Dashi said, still not pinpointing what it was. "You should probably have a spare key, just in case they lose it. There is a high chance they would, actually," She would have smiled fondly at that, if it wasn't for the troubling atmosphere.
"I won't need it," Captain Barnacles said, "since I'm on missions all the time. But if you or Tweak would like, then you could have spare keys. You stay in the Octopod more often."
Although it was logical, it was strange that he wouldn't keep one himself. As much as Dashi was puzzling over this, she never came to the real conclusion.
"Alright, Captain. If you say so," Dashi said uneasily. "I'll get to it straight away."
He put a paw on her shoulder, squeezed it gently, then left the kitchen.
Of course, this will be harder to escape, he thought to himself. But that was the whole point.
When he had successfully slept for a couple hours and entered the HQ earlier that morning, it did not seem as dire as it did last night. He was not kidding himself; the desire was still there, lurking in the back of his mind whenever he wasn't distracted. But the desire was weaker, and he was able to get a hold of himself and start to think clearly, at least a little bit, to do something to prevent his own end.
With locking up the knives, at least it would be easier to resist the urge. It would be a fail safe; he would have to go through the other crew members to be able to pull it off and kill himself.
Kill himself.
He shook his head and continued on. He was taking precautions; that was all that mattered.