"Are you sure you don't need me to come back early?"
"I'm positive. Besides, we may need your testimony and you'd never be able to get here in time." Nathan sat on the couch in front of the vid-screen nursing another cup of coffee. He had been up all night planning his case with Noyce and some UEO lawyers. His eyes felt positively sore and he knew were probably blood shot and bruised.
"You should get some rest," said Kristin gently. "You've got time before the trial."
"I can't. Not while Lucas is locked up in THAT place."
"Well, you're not going to be making a good impression to the judge if you go into the courtroom looking like this. Take a nap, Nathan. I'll call you in an hour. In the mean time, I'll call Noyce again and verify what they'll be needing from me."
"Alright, Kris. You win." Nathan stretched out on the couch and was asleep before the connection finished disconnecting.
Back at the hospital, Lucas was just waking up. A pretty, young nurse came bustling into the room causing him to stretch and begin the groggy process of returning to the living.
"Well, you must be Lucas," she said as he sat up. He blinked at her sleepily nodding at her. "Here's your medication." She handed him a small cup with a familiar looking pill and a white one that he did not recognize.
"What's this?" he asked suspiciously.
"That's just Tylenol. We figured you might need a little pain reliever for your arm. The other one's your Zoloft. We wouldn't want you skipping doses, now would we?"
"Where's mine at, wench?"
"Right here," she said with a smirk dumping the cup of water over Ricky's head.
"Hey! That wasn't nice!"
"You should behave then." She refilled the cup then handed him his medication. "Bye, Ricky. Nice meeting you, Lucas," she said as she walked out of the room.
"Wow, who was that?" asked Lucas staring after her with a slight grin on his face.
"That's Rita. She's one of the new nurses. She's still working on her bedside manner but she sure is nice to look at."
"Are you and her?"
"Don't let her attitude fool you. Rita's real professional. She'd never get involved with one of us. She just knows which ones she can pick on and which ones she can't." Ricky shrugged with a grin. "I'm not complaining. She makes getting out of bed a lot easier." Ricky began getting dressed then noticed Lucas standing there. "Sorry. They brought you some clothes last night but you were already asleep. They're in that first drawer there."
"Thanks." Lucas opened the drawer pulling out an outfit that resembled a set of scrubs. He debated leaving on his current outfit until he noticed the bloodstains. 'These'll do until Bridger brings me something else,' he thought as he hurried to get out of what he was wearing.
"You look better," observed Ricky. Lucas glanced down at his clothes before looking back up at him in confusion. "Not your clothes. You just look better today. More grounded. Last night you looked kinds rough."
"Yesterday was a really bad day," replied Lucas quietly, remembering his thoughts as he had fallen asleep. "Today…today seems a bit more hopeful."
"That's a good thing. You hungry?"
Lucas thought about it for a minute. "Not really."
"Come to breakfast anyway. You're gonna need it when you see the Doc."
"The Doc?" asked Lucas nervously.
"He meets with all of the new patients. He's got to evaluate you to see what your treatment's going to be."
"But I'm not going to be staying here," protested Lucas. "Bridger promised he'd get me out." Ricky just looked at him sadly. "He is!"
"You still need to eat."
"Fine. Let's go get breakfast." Lucas crossed his arms, a bit angry that Ricky did not believe him about the Captain. If Bridger said he was going to get Lucas out of here, then he would get him out of here. Breakfast turned out to be soggy eggs and toast served in what might have been a waiting room had this been a different floor. There weren't many people in the room. For the most part, the hospital was merely a transition point before patients were moved to more permanent locations in the mental health system. Lucas kept his eyes on his plate as he pushed his food around giving the semblance that he had eaten something. He did not want to offend anybody by staring at them. Part of him kept expecting to see crazy people foaming at the mouth or wandering around all zombie-like in straightjackets but his hesitant peeks at the room through his eyelashes revealed only normal looking people. 'You've watched too many movies,' Lucas admonished himself. 'Why should they look any different just because they've got problems? You're here and you don't look nuts.'
"Ricky! I thought you were told you that Lucas was to remain in his room!" A flustered nurse hurried up to their table looking out of breath.
"I'm sorry, Mary. I forgot. We just came to get breakfast." Ricky glanced over at Lucas hiding a small grin. Although Lucas had forgotten, it was apparent that Ricky had not.
"I've been looking for him everywhere!" Mary turned to face Lucas. "Dr. Barringer wants to see you right away. He needs to complete an evaluation of you before your court appearance." Lucas nodded rising from his seat unsteadily. As he prepared to follow the nurse, Ricky touched him hesitantly on the arm.
"Good luck," he whispered squeezing slightly.
"Thanks," smiled Lucas gratefully. He made a mental note to do a search for Ricky once he got back to the SeaQuest. Maybe they could keep in touch. "Bye."
"Doctor, Lucas is here," said the nurse stopping at an office down the hall.
"Send him in," came a deep voice from within the room. Lucas slowly pushed the door open easing his way into the room. The man looked nothing like the doctor from the night before. He was a large man with thick curly black hair and a graying beard. "Have a seat, Lucas. You can call me Barry." Lucas paused for a moment staring at his nameplate. "Yes, my parents named me Barry Barringer. They had a very sick sense of humor."
Lucas gave the doctor a wobbly grin as he settled himself into a chair. There was something about this doctor that did not make him feel so intimidated. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
"I've just got a few questions for you, Lucas. Please answer them as honestly as you can." Lucas nodded his mouth dry.
"First off, do you remember why you're here?" Lucas nodded.
"I cut myself," he whispered, bowing his head to stare at his bandaged arm in shame. "The lady downstairs…she wouldn't let me go home."
"Do you know why that is?"
Lucas shrugged. "She thought I was a danger to myself or something." He looked up to meet the doctor's eyes. "I'm not."
"Why did you cut yourself Lucas?"
"It hurt," he whispered wrapping his arms around himself. His eyes became unfocused as he stared at the desk. "It hurt so bad. I tried to call Bridger but they wouldn't let me through. I couldn't take it anymore. It kept building and building and I was afraid of what would happen if it got bigger than I could control."
"What could have happened?"
"Do too much damage by accident," he paused, "or on purpose." He shivered. "I couldn't take the risk."
"Does this happen a lot?"
"Which part?"
"All of it. How often is it this bad?"
"Not too often." Lucas closed his eyes in relief. He didn't think he could make it if he had to go through this all the time.
"You said you might do too much damage on purpose. Are times like this the only times you have suicidal urges?" Lucas shook his head. "Do you want to die right now?"
"I don't know. I don't really want to kill myself right now but if someone else came along to do it for me I don't know that I would protest too much." He glanced up at the doctor's expression. When he did not find the disgust that he expected, he continued in a stronger voice. "I'm not going to kill myself. It doesn't matter how much I may want to. I can't. I have too many things keeping me here."
"Would you be willing to sign a contract to that effect?"
"Sure." The doctor scribbled down a note in his chart.
"Have you ever required stitches before?" he asked with a nod at his wound.
"Once but that was a long time ago back when I was still in college." The doctor glanced up at Lucas in surprise. He grinned at him. "They didn't tell you I'm a genius? I've already got a Masters degree."
"I see. And how often do you hurt yourself?"
"Too often," Lucas replied ruefully. "It's probably not more than five or six times a year now. It's hard sometimes."
"So even though you don't hurt yourself you still get the urge to?" Again Lucas got a far-away look.
"All the time."
"What stops you?"
"Kristin and Bridger help me. They talk me through the rough times and help pick me up when I don't make it all the way through them."
"You aren't seeing anyone else?"
"I, um, I have a psychiatrist. I see him during shore leaves." He shrugged. "I don't know if the medicine's helping any."
"Tell me about Kristin and Bridger." Lucas's eyes lit up. He began to talk animatedly for the first time in the conversation.
"Kristin's great. She's like a mom to me. She's the doctor aboard SeaQuest. Captain Bridger's awesome too. He looks out for me. He always makes sure that I know I can come talk to him at any time."
"It sounds like they're very special to you. What about your parents? Do they serve aboard SeaQuest?"
"No," replied Lucas, losing all of his enthusiasm. "My dad's working on a project in Antarctica. My mom's vacationing somewhere in Europe."
"So you don't live with them. What is your relationship with them like?"
"We don't really have one. I mean, my dad loves me and everything but he's just so busy with everything else that I don't really fit into his life right now."
"And your mother?" Lucas shrugged.
"She isn't really the mothering type. I don't think she's ever known quite what to do with me. She much prefers the company of her consorts." The doctor glanced at the clock.
"Thank you for being so cooperative, Lucas. I believe I have enough information here to make a recommendation. Your Captain Bridger should be here any minute to bring you some clothes for court."
"Why does this have to go to court? Why can't you just tell me I can go home?"
"I'm not affiliated with the hospital. I was brought in to do an impartial evaluation for the courts."
"Oh." Lucas stared down at the ground. He didn't want to go to court. He just wanted to go home. He'd thought that Dr. Barry could let him go home. He bit down on his lip, fighting tears.
"Don't worry, Lucas," said Dr. Barrister kneeling in front of the boy. "Everything will work out fine." Lucas nodded dejectedly following the arriving nurse out the door. It just wasn't fair. He bit harder drawing the salty taste of blood.
"Here you are," said the nurse, leaving Lucas outside yet another closed door. "Good luck," he said, giving Lucas a pat on the shoulder. Numbly, Lucas pushed the door open and laboriously forced his leaden feet to move. In side, Bridger was pacing anxiously.
"Lucas! Are you all right? Did they treat you well?" Bridger was immediately by his side. Lucas began to tremble as Bridger's arms folded him into their safety.
"I'm so scared," he whispered.
"I know. I know but we'll talk to the judge. You just have to trust that he'll make the right decision."
"What if the right decision is to lock me up?" asked Lucas looking up at Bridger with tear filled eyes. "Look what I did. What if- what if I'm not s-safe enough to take care of myself?" Lucas broke down into sobs clinging to Bridger.
"You're doing good, Lucas. This was just an unfortunate set back. You're getting better."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I messed up. I'm sorry I caused so much trouble. I don't know why you put up with me."
"Because I love you. We all love you, kiddo, and we'll do anything it takes to see you get better. We just want to see you happy."
"I don't know how happy feels anymore."
"I know and it breaks my heart but one day you'll know what it's like to be happy again."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Now let's get you ready for court." Lucas went through the motions of getting dressed allowing Bridger to guide his movements. He felt numb again. Distant. In a way, he welcomed the feeling because it protected him. It made it seem like everything that was going on was happening to someone else and he could deal with that better than having everything happening to him. At the same time, it was kind of scary. He felt like he could drift off at any minute. As long as he didn't fight it, it wasn't so bad but when he tried to keep himself from floating off it seemed like he just got farther away.
He realized he had missed something during his reverie. "What did you say?" His voice sounded tiny.
"It's time to go." Bridger watched Lucas worriedly. It hurt every time he saw him like this. He just wanted to wrap him up and make everything all better but there wasn't any magical answer for something like this. Lucas stayed stiffly by Bridger's side as they slowly filed into the hospital transport for the ride to the courthouse. He barely nodded at their lawyer as they took a seat to wait for the judge. Lucas felt like he was in some kind of movie as he stood up for the judge to enter the courtroom. This couldn't be real.
"You must be Lucas," said the judge with a friendly smile. He nodded wondering why everyone around him seemed to know his name. "Well, this isn't going to be anything like you see on TV so don't be frightened. Now, I've read the files but I would like each of you to explain why exactly I am here on my day off."
"The child was brought to Richland Hospital last night with a self-inflicted incision to his forearm. The psychologist on duty evaluated him and recommended that he be admitted for treatment. The child's guardian protested and he was made a ward of the hospital until this hearing could be arranged this morning."
"I see." The judge turned her gaze on the UEO lawyer.
"My client was involuntarily admitted to the psychiatric ward without due cause. He had a firm grip on reality. He was not a danger to himself or others. There was no reason for him to have had to stay there."
"Wouldn't you say the injury to his arm was proof that he was a danger to himself?" argued the hospital's lawyer..
"Absolutely not. Mr. Wolenczak has a history of self-mutilation but he is not a danger to himself. The cut alone does not warrant hospitalization."
"Allowing the child to go without proper psychological treatment is criminal. He needs help," protested the hospital's lawyer.
"Mr. Wolenczak is receiving treatment. He has an excellent support group aboard SeaQuest."
"Then why was he in the emergency room last night?"
"Enough!" barked the judge. She watched Lucas for a moment. "I'd like to hear the child's point of view." Lucas kept his eyes on the ground as he was led up to the stand. "Lucas, could you tell me everything that happened yesterday that led up to you being brought into the emergency room?"
"Yes, ma'am." He swallowed quickly then began a soft, emotionless rendition of the previous days events. "I started out in a bad mood. Bridger got called back to a meeting ending our vacation early. He promised we'd go to some amusement parks instead but I was still disappointed. He was in meetings all day so I was left pretty much to myself. I didn't really mind. I got some great code written. When I went to lunch, I overheard some guys talking about me. They were calling me stuff like SeaQuest's charity case. I know it's not true but it still gets to you, you know? I started feeling worse then but I probably would have been fine except my mother called. There are a lot of issues between us. A phone call from her can ruin even the best of days. It was like a black cloud covered everything when she told me not to plan on coming home for Thanksgiving."
"I tried to call Bridger then. I was kind of upset. But the secretary refused to let me through. I tried to find somewhere safe but I kept finding potential instruments in every room. I was afraid to pick one up because I'd be more likely to use it on myself than to move it out of my sight. Each time I tried to call Bridger I became more and more desperate until I couldn't take it anymore. Almost immediately afterwards I panicked and called him again. This time they delivered the message. He came home and bandaged me up and took me to the hospital."
"And you've attempted suicide before?"
"No!" exclaimed Lucas. "I've never tried to kill myself."
"Ma'am," began the UEO lawyer. "Self-mutilation is a coping mechanism. They respond to unpleasant psychological stimulation by inflicting damage on themselves. In Mr. Wolenczak's case, the damage is almost always minor."
"This doesn't look minor," replied the judge glancing down at a picture of the gaping wound prior to being treated.
"Mr. Wolenczak's physician is prepared to testify to the nature of his wounds."
"I'd like to hear her testimony. Lucas, you may return to your seat." Lucas returned to his seat ignoring the proceedings of the courtroom. Bridger gave his hand a slight squeeze as he slid down in beside him.
"She obviously has no experience with this kind of case," whispered the lawyer. "We have grounds for an appeal if the decision should go against us."
"Well, let's hope we don't have to use the appeal," muttered Bridger while they waited for a vid-screen to be called in for Kristin's testimony.
"Dr. Westphalen, could you state your name and your relationship to Mr. Wolenczak," ordered the lawyer.
"I am Dr. Kristin Westphalen. I am the primary doctor on SeaQuest where Lucas lives. He's also a colleague and a friend of mine."
"Have you treated Mr. Wolenczak for self-inflicted injuries during your time on SeaQuest?"
"Yes, I have. On five separate occasions."
"And can you describe these injuries?"
"All five were small cuts approximately three to five cm in length, superficial in nature, and found on either his arms or his legs."
"Did these injuries need professional medical attention?"
"No, sir. Lucas could have easily taken care of them himself. It was part of our agreement that he let me treat any cuts he may happen to make."
"Can you tell us about this agreement?" asked the judge with interest.
"Yes, ma'am. After we learned of Lucas's problem with self-injury, it quickly became apparent that sending him off of SeaQuest was not an option nor was bringing a psychologist to him. We were able to get him evaluated by a psychiatrist who's been treating him for about six months now. With his help, we've come up with a process that we hope will teach Lucas less destructive coping mechanisms. We haven't asked Lucas not to cut but we do ask that he comes and talks with us first. Most of the time, talking takes care of the problem. Sometimes talking wasn't enough."
"And what do you do when he does hurt himself?" asked the hospital lawyer.
"I treat his injury then we talk about why he did it," she said looking at the man as though he were an idiot. What else did they expect her to do when he cut?
"So you reward him with attention?"
"No, we address the problem."
"If you've been addressing the problem, Dr. Westphalen, why are we here today?"
"Your honor!" protested Lucas's lawyer.
"That's enough," admonished the judge with a glare. "Thank you for your time, Doctor," she continued.
"May I make one more statement before I go?" asked Kristin. The judge nodded. "I know you're going to make a decision based on what you think is right for Lucas but regardless of your opinion on him staying on SeaQuest, placing him in an institution against his will isn't going to help him. The statistics are clear that hospitalization does not necessarily help self-injurers. In many cases, it makes matters worse."
"I'll keep that in mind," promised the judge. "I believe I have heard enough testimony. Let's take a lunch break while I look over the testimony and the recommendations from Dr. Barrister one more time before making my decision."
"Is that good news or bad news?" asked Bridger as they filed out of the courtroom. Lucas remained silent by his side.
"I think we made a good impression on her. The hospital doesn't seem to be making much of a case."
"Why should they?" mumbled Lucas. "It's not like they care about me." He pulled sullenly at the collar of his shirt wishing he could change out of the suit. They walked across the street to a small café.
"What would you like to eat?" Lucas glanced through the menu on the table. "Never mind. We'll have three of the day's special," said the lawyer as the waitress came to take their order.
Lucas picked at his food while Bridger and the lawyer discussed the case. Nothing made him feel more invisible than when people talked about him like he wasn't even there. Sighing, he excused himself from the table. He hurried into the restroom and leaned against the stall closing his eyes. He couldn't do this. 'I can't,' he thought. 'I can't. You have to.' Tears of self-pity leaked from his eyes. How pathetic. Like he hadn't done enough crying the past two days. Stop being so stupid. Snap out of it. When the tears eventually stopped, he quickly washed his face to remove the evidence. He slid back into his seat at the table without the other two even giving him a glance.
"We should be heading back over to the courthouse," said the lawyer checking his watch. He paid the bill and they walked back in silence. Lucas looked around him making sure to take everything in. He knew that this might be the last time he saw the outside world for quite some time. If the prerequisite for being discharged from a mental institution was being cured, he wasn't sure he would ever get out again. He didn't think there was a cure for someone like him. He wished for the numbness to return as he stood trembling while the judge entered the courtroom. Suddenly his world hung precariously on her every word. Reality was looming over him in a terrifying rush of stark clarity. This was it.
"I've made my decision," she started without preamble. "While I believe that the hospital made a justified decision in keeping the child overnight, I do not feel that he needs to be admitted for more long-term care." She glared at the hospital's lawyer daring him to protest. Lucas sagged against Bridger in relief. They weren't going to lock him up. He was safe.
"I do have a few conditions," continued the judge, "in accordance with Dr. Barrister's recommendations. The child is to continue receiving treatment from his psychiatrist. He is also to begin treatment with a psychologist. Due to the unusual circumstances, you may wish to choose one that specializes in sessions through teleconferencing."
"We can do that," replied the lawyer.
"Lastly, Lucas, I would like you to promise me that you will not do anything to harm yourself in the future."
"I can't do that," he replied hanging his head. He blew it. She was going to change her mind and send him back to the hospital. Why did she have to ask something like that? Why couldn't they understand that it wasn't that simple? The judge was silent for a moment watching him. Maybe she just didn't want to see him committed or maybe she realized that she had asked the wrong thing.
"Can you at least promise you'll try not to?" she asked finally. He was silent for a moment.
"Yeah, I can promise that." She smiled at him kindly.
"Good." As they left the courtroom for the last time, Lucas's burst of jubilation slowly faded into fatigue. It had been a rough two days. He felt as though he could sleep for a month.
"Are you going out to celebrate?" asked the lawyer shaking Bridger's hand.
"No, I think we're just going to go back to the hotel room," replied Bridger watching Lucas stifle a yawn.
"Well, sir, its been an honor meeting you. I'm just glad everything worked out well." Bridger pulled Lucas close thinking of all he almost lost. Lucas snuggled against Bridger inside the cab. Safe. Warm. Good. Surrounded by a soft bubble of content, Lucas drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, Nathan was sitting watching Lucas sleep when he heard a soft knock on the door. He wanted to ignore it. He didn't want to leave Lucas's side. He looked so fragile and innocent lying there asleep. When the knock came again, he forced himself up.
"Hey," said Kristin smiling softly.
"What are you doing here?" he asked shocked. "You're supposed to be in England visiting your mother."
"She understands. You need me here."
"But how?"
"I left as soon as you went to sleep this morning. I did the conference from the shuttle."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know," she smiled at him softly, letting a hand caress his cheek. "I wanted to. How's Lucas?"
"He's been sleeping since we left the courthouse." Nathan couldn't keep the note of worry out of his voice.
"It's to be expected. He's had a rough time." She moved to stand so that she could look down at Lucas.
"I know." Nathan wrapped his arms around her burying his face in her hair. "Kris, we almost lost him."
"But we didn't." She turned around to face the pain in his tear-filled eyes. "We didn't lose him. He's going to be OK. We're going to get through this. We just have to take it one day at a time."
"One day at a time." Together they turned drawing strength from each other and the beautiful vision of Lucas sleeping peacefully.
The End
Author's Notes: While this story was not based on actually events, many of the instances brought up are very real. A trip to the doctor can be a very scary thing to someone living with self-injury. The person may encounter people who do not have any experience coping with a patient that hurts themselves. It can be frustrating for the doctors and some may take it out on the patient by refusing to numb the wound before stitch or being unnecessarily rough or even refusing to treat the injury at all. People have been committed against their will because the evaluating psychologist did not know enough about self-injury to judge whether the patient was a danger to themselves.
In an effort to protect the self-injurer against instances such as these, the Self-Injurer's Bill of Rights was created. I ask everyone to please read the Bill of Rights ; The more awareness we can bring to the problem, the more chances we have of doing something to stop it. If you ever have to go to the ER/ A&E for a self-inflicted injury, take a print out of the Bill of Rights. It may help. You might also want to visit ; It's another helpful site about what to expect if you have to go to the emergency room.