Author's Note: This chapter contains Mentions of Self-harm
Chapter 4:
"It helps." I whispered.
His mandibles moved as he looked back down at my arm.
We stood there silently for a couple of minutes, until his hand slid along the bandage to my hand, gently pulling me to the couch.
I wondered if he felt the sparks. He seemed unaffected, and it hurt both of us- Gen whimpered.
He waited for me to sit, before going to the bathroom and grabbing one of my first aid kits, coming back and kneeling in front of me.
"Let me see."
I hesitated, but eventually decided against arguing and unwrapped it.
Long lines, straight across. Twelve of them, the last one being across the frail skin of my wrist. If it was anyone else doing it, the damage would've been bad, but me? I would heal quickly, no matter how deep the cut was. Sure, it would've taken longer, if it had been deeper, but it still would've healed far quicker than a normal human's.
Great, now I was mentally rambling.
I pulled myself out of my thoughts and realized he was reaching into the kit for the alcohol.
I made a face. "That's not necessary. I know how to keep my instrument clean and how to disinfect a wound."
The look he gave me made me shut up, my eyes dropping to my arm. Watching silently as he did his thing- the alcohol on the swabs hurt like a bitch- and rewrapped it with a clean bandage.
"Thank you." I murmured, barely audible.
With his hearing, he caught it. "You're welcome."
He disappeared into the bathroom, putting it back.
Coming to stand by my feet, he watched me put the hoodie back on.
"Why don't you want Bailey knowing?"
"The last time, he said if I did it again, he'd get me admitted." I said, my voice soft. "I don't want that."
"Can he do that? You're an adult."
"An adult that's 'a danger to herself'." I quoted. "He could. Especially since he's captain of C-Sec. His word holds a lot of power."
"Do you... Is there anyone else who knows?" He sounded frustrated.
"My therapist, and two of my friends. Not Say." I rushed to add. "Please, don't bring it up around her. She's too sweet and innocent."
"You have a therapist?" He sat, close enough my toes were touching his thigh.
"Yeah. I have to, for the bipolar. She's great, really helpful. Helps keep me sane. Realize things I hadn't thought of before. I'll introduce you, the next time. We do virtual visits, so no need to go anywhere."
My alarm went off, signaling it was five. I jumped up and rushed to my room, popping the pills faster than I ever had before.
"How long before they kick in?"
"Within half an hour, but it'll take a day or two for it to get back in my system fully. For some reason, Latuda doesn't like being skipped. It acts like I've never taken it before, when I accidentally do. It sucks."
Another alarm went off, and my eyes widened.
"Shit!"
"What?"
I raced past him, turning on my computer and wishing it would hurry up. As soon as I could, I joined the call.
"Ah, I was just about to call you. It's not like you to be late." My therapist cheerfully said by way of greeting.
"Sorry. It's been... a day." I pulled a face. "Not a good one, mentally or emotionally."
"Ah, okay. Do you want to talk about it?"
I glanced over my shoulder, motioning for him to come over. He obliged, stepping into my little cave so he was in frame.
"This is Garrus Vakarian, my guard from C-Sec. Garrus, this is Sarah McLendon, my therapist." I went to sync the computer with my ear piece as they exchanged pleasantries. "Okay. I'm gonna have my session now. It doesn't bother me if you overhear, just so you know. It's not like I'm going to be saying anything bad about you." I joked.
Once her voice was in my ear, I launched into everything that had happened since the last time we'd talked.
The other officer, the latest pictures, the drugging.
She hummed at that last part.
"Do you think you could've been drugged that night, the one with the pictures?"
I... It hadn't crossed my mind.
"That... makes sense." I said slowly, thinking it through. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"You might've been too afraid to connect the dots, consciously. Once is one thing, twice? That's a wholly other. I'm sorry, Andromeda."
I then realized I was crying, looking down at the tear spots on my desk.
"Andromeda?"
"I'm here. Sorry. I just... Why is this happening to me? I don't understand. What did I do?" I was full-on sobbing now, my whole body shaking with the force of the emotions I was feeling.
"You didn't do anything, Andromeda. Okay? You did nothing. This is on whoever is doing it. This is their fault, not yours. You wouldn't blame a victim, so why are you blaming yourself? You are a victim in this."
We spent the rest of the time talking about the other officer and the pictures. How they made me feel. How the drugging made me feel. How it felt to be constantly under surveillance- which I honestly didn't mind. It was nice to have company, which I told her. Even as pathetic as that sounded.
I was lonely.
My schedule didn't leave much room for socializing. I was either in class, going over notes, or sleeping. I wasn't exactly great company, given that my attention was almost always on school.
She reminded me that I was doing this- going to school- for a reason and to hold onto that reason whenever I felt like this.
She also reminded me that what I'd done today was just another coping mechanism. That no one should judge me for it- that she didn't judge me- and that it was what I'd found to work.
It always made me feel a little better when she said that. Made me feel like less of a pathetic failure that couldn't do anything right.
There's my demons again.
I chuckled humorlessly.
She tilted her head, curious.
"Sorry. I was just listening to the demons. They're having a field-day. Missing my meds is never fun because of it."
We chatted a bit more, trying to boost my mood, then scheduled our next appointment.
Turning off the computer, I let out a noisy gust of air, before pushing to my feet and going out into the living room proper.
"Do you want anything to eat?" I asked. "I'm gonna just order something."
"What were you thinking?"
"Pizza." Without missing a beat.
"Yeah, sure."
He gave me his order, and I put my own in.
"Half an hour."
With that, I grabbed a drink from the fridge and curled up on the couch with my iPad.
"I'm sorry your life is like this." He murmured quietly. Sincerely.
I glanced over at him, meeting his eyes. "I... Thank you." A half smile.
I took a sip from my drink before remembering.
"Oh, right. My therapist thinks I was drugged, the night of the photos. It would've been a smaller dose, since I was able to get to bed and everything, but it would make sense." With my heightened senses, not that he knew that. "I, uh, I remembered that I found a piece of candy. Left over from the last bag of fan stuff my manager gave me. It must've been that."
"It does make sense." He fell deep in thought, and I was forgotten.
Sometime later, there was a knock at the door, and he got up, getting the food.
He handed me my little box, a plate on top of it, and I gave him a grateful smile.
"You didn't have to. I have to get a fork and knife, anyway."
His head tilted, amusement clear on his face. "Fork and knife? For pizza?"
I blushed. "Yeah. It's a texture thing, with the grease."
He went back to the kitchen, and I heard him go into the silverware drawer. Coming over, he held them out to me.
"You don't have to wait on me." I rolled my eyes. "I'm not an invalid."
He rolled his, too. "I'm just doing something nice. Calm down."
I felt the heat rise up. I hated that.
Calm down.
Calm down.
I hated that phrase.
My eyes dropped to the box as I moved the plate aside very carefully. I didn't want to break it on accident in my mood swing.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't like being told to calm down." I replied quietly, keeping my gaze down.
He shifted and walked over to me, crouching. His hand grasped my chin and tilted my head up. My glare was turned on him, now.
"I'm sorry." Genuine. "I didn't mean to upset you. Especially after all you've been through. And therapy earlier... I'm sorry."
The fire left me, draining away under his touch. I was embarrassed at how quickly I'd gotten angry.
"It's not your fault. You didn't know."
His eyes searched mine, and I gave him a questioning look, my head tilting slightly.
"Sorry. I..." He shook his head, looking dazed. "I don't know. I... I feel so strange when I'm this close to you."
My eyes widened. He did feel it. I wasn't sure how it worked with aliens. I'd never heard of it happening before.
He blinked, his own eyes widening. He looked appalled.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He jerked away, getting to his feet and backing away. "I... I don't know why I said that. I understand if you want Bailey to get another officer here."
"Garrus." I said quietly, smiling softly. "It's okay. You don't seem the type to act out like the other guy."
What I really wanted to say was, "I feel it, too", but I just couldn't bring myself to do that. Not when he didn't know anything.
MEDA!
I know... I'm sorry...
You're killing me, here.
I know. I don't know what to say, though. How do I... I can't just blurt it out.
A sigh. I know.
I pulled myself from the conversation, finding him watching me curiously. Still horrified at what he'd said, but there was also curiosity.
"You zone out a lot."
"It happens. The bipolar." I flashed a weak smile. "You know what, I think I'm gonna go to bed."
"You haven't eaten." He pointed out, disapproving.
"I ate lunch. It's okay. I'll have this for a midnight snack, I'm sure."