AN: I don't own seaQuest, yada yada yada. I know I didn't actually follow the scene, but this is what happened as I was writing. Don't blame me. Blame Henderson.

Character: Lonnie Henderson

Scene: Getting yelled at by Hudson.

There are things in this world which are out of our control. Sometimes we like to blame ourselves for them so we can try to make sense out of them. –24

"Lieutenant Henderson, could I please see you in the ward room?" Hudson's voice crackled over Lonnie's com unit. Lonnie sighed. She had been expecting this, but she had just sat down to lunch with Jonathan.

"On my way, sir," Lonnie replied, standing up.

Jonathan gave her a sympathetic look. "Don't worry," he tried to reassure her. "Everything will be fine."

You don't know that.

Lonnie gave him a shaky smile. "Sure," she said, before turning and leaving.

Because her nerves made her steps quicker, Lonnie arrived at the ward room in record time. She took a deep breath before entering.

You deserve whatever happens.

Hudson was standing at the head of the table. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chairs. Lonnie sat down. For a moment, he just looked at her. Lonnie, unsure of whether or not she should look him in the eye, darted her glance between Hudson and the wall behind him.

Finally, he spoke.

Lonnie braced herself.

You deserve whatever happens.

"Are you okay, Lieutenant?"

Huh?

Lonnie stared at Hudson in confusion. Where was the yelling? Where was the speech? Where was the part where he tried to make her feel worse than she already did?

"Excuse me, sir?"

"I asked if you were okay." As if sensing her confusion, Hudson continued. "I may not know you as well as the rest of the crew, but I know that transmitting a message on the wrong frequency is not a mistake you would normally make. Especially when you are on a stealth mission in enemy waters."

And when doing so nearly got you and your team members killed.

"I have noticed that you have grown more and more distracted over the past month. So I will ask again: are you okay?"

"I – I don't know, sir," Lonnie admitted. "I am distracted. I can't focus. Half the time I don't know what I'm doing. I can't stop thinking about –" She stopped, unwilling to admit even to herself what was troubling her.

"About?" Hudson gently prodded her.

Lonnie stared down at her hands. "About Jim," she finally said. She looked back up at Hudson. He did not seem shocked or surprised. In fact, he seemed to expect that answer from her.

"Henderson, I know you feel that you are to blame for Brody's death. No matter what I tell you, or Commander Ford tells you, or anyone else tells you, you can't seem to stop blaming yourself."

"If I hadn't –"

Hudson held up his hand, stopping Lonnie's words. "I'm issuing you a medical leave of absence. Two weeks." Lonnie started to protest, but again, he stopped her. "It's an order, Lieutenant. I want you to see a doctor I know. I think he can help you."

"A psychiatrist?"

Hudson nodded. "I think it will help. I've already got a launch ordered to take you as soon as you've packed."

Lonnie's head swam. She never thought she'd ever need a psychiatrist. She didn't know how to react. "Thank you, sir," she said, unsure if she actually was grateful. She headed for the door, but just before leaving, she turned back to Hudson. "Captain, what happens at the end of the two weeks?"

"We'll see how you are then."

Lonnie nodded, accepting the answer. "Yes, sir." As she left the ward room, only one thought echoed in her head.

You need this.