Hey all, here is the next chapter for this fic. For this chapter, I decided to take a chance and write out a diagnosis for our beloved Jamie. Keep in mind, that I am not a doctor in any shape or form; so, if you feel like nit-picking this chapter, by all means...go for it. I think it is a nice addition to the story and helps moves things along. Also, I know in the show that they said PTSD was changed to PTSS, but I didn't change it here, because I wrote this a while ago and I think it's fine the way it is. Phew, now, I hope you enjoy and please review! Happy reading. x
All rights go to the owners of Criminal Minds, except for my original character
Not Like This
Chapter Nineteen: The Diagnosis
December 18th, 2014
The clock on the wall was abnormally loud. The ticking seemed to get deeper with every stroke of the hands and along with the constant tapping of Jamie's heeled boot, she felt as if she would go crazy. It had been two days since the team had gotten back from Atlanta and much to Jamie's protest, she had been put back on desk duty, courtesy of Hotch. The team was away on a local case, but even then, Jamie felt as though she was missing out. She never thought that being hit by a single bullet would have this much of a negative impact on her. Sure, she had read and heard stories about the effects it had on others, but she wasn't them. Being her own person, Jamie felt the need to show that she could overcome the setback, even if it was taking its toll on her mental health.
The clock was still going and her boot was still tapping. Jamie sat in a cushioned seat in an empty hallway, waiting to be called in for her evaluation. Her surroundings were bleak and it only added to her anxiety. She knew that she wouldn't be asked the same questions as before, so she couldn't prepare any answers beforehand. Her eyes moved down to her watch, seeing the hands placed at three-twenty-four. Six minutes to go and it felt like a lifetime. Her hands rested in her lap, thumbs twirling around one another. The echo of somebody's footsteps from down the long hallway registered through her ears, but they didn't distract her from her thoughts. There were several moments within the past couple of days where Jamie considered skipping her appointment, but she knew better than that. If she skipped out on her evaluation, she would be in deep trouble and she wouldn't be able to return to the field. There was no telling what she would be screened for, but she had an itch.
The door to the office opened and a woman popped her head around the corner, looking the opposite way before turning in Jamie's direction. "Agent Carter, I'm ready for you."
Jamie nodded and stood to her feet, smoothing her jeans before walking into the room. It was the same room as she was in before. The walls were red and the furniture was different shades of brown. Jamie sat on the couch, across from the large chair where the woman would sit and ask her a variety of questions. When the door shut, Jamie could hear her heartbeat in her ears.
"Agent Carter, my name is Dr. Ross. I'll be performing your evaluation today." The woman smiled, stepping around the table to shake Jamie's hand.
Jamie shook Dr. Ross's hand and gave a small smile, "Please, just call me Jamie."
"If you insist," Dr. Ross collected papers and a clipboard from her desk, stacking the papers neatly. She sat down the in chair across from Jamie and let out a small breath. "So, are you ready to begin?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"You seem nervous."
Jamie shifted on the cushion and licked her lips. She shrugged one shoulder, "I just don't know what you're going to ask me, that's all."
Dr. Ross nodded and took out her pen, clicking the top and writing something down on her clipboard. "Okay, why don't you tell me why you came in for another evaluation."
"Um, it wasn't my idea, really. My boss, Agent Hotchner told me that he would put in a request for another evaluation, so…here I am."
Dr. Ross's pen wrote quickly on the clipboard and Jamie couldn't help but wonder what she was writing. She hadn't even been in the office for five minutes yet.
"That's not what I mean necessarily," Dr. Ross began to clarify. "There had to of been some sort of event or reason that brought you back for another psychological evaluation."
Jamie chuckled lightly and bit the inside of her cheek, "There's a lot of emphasis on the word psychological there, doctor."
"Why don't you tell me why you're here, Jamie."
Jamie crossed her legs and cleared her throat. She sat in front of the slightly intimidating doctor, asking herself where she should even begin with her explanation. "My team and I, we were on a case in Atlanta and we had to go to a crime scene. There at the crime scene, there was this, uh, pool of blood in the middle of the sidewalk. Um, I was one of the people to observe that particular portion of the crime scene along with three other agents..."
Dr. Ross nodded as Jamie spoke, also noticing her hesitation as she stopped explaining. "Go on..."
"So, we're looking at the pool of blood and we were given gloves by the medics, just for precaution, you know? We all had our gloves on, but I couldn't help but stare at the victim's blood on the ground." Jamie rubbed one hand over her face, exhaling as she did so. "I bent down to the ground, to get closer and when I did that, I took my fingers and I dipped them in the blood."
"And why did you do that?"
Jamie shrugged and narrowed her eyes, "I don't know. There was just…something about it that I couldn't let go of. When I brought my hand back to see the blood, it was like my eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the sight. You know, I-I remember sitting there and watching the blood trickle down my fingers and it was like I was trapped in some flashback."
"Okay," Dr. Ross said, writing down notes on her clipboard. "tell me about the flashback."
Jamie kept eye contact with her for a moment as she scratched her neck. "It was a flashback of when I was shot. We were on a case in Texas and there was a major shootout. I stepped into the line of fire to pull an officer away and…it backfired."
"Tell me more about it."
"I think you're going to need to be a little more specific for me."
"Tell me more about your injury," Dr. Ross told her. "Tell me about how it felt, what did you see, smell, hear, tell me everything."
"I knew I was hit when I felt a pain in my left shoulder. It hit right under my collarbone," Jamie gestured with her hand to her place of in jury. "and then it felt really…almost white-hot and then I remember hearing my name being shouted through everything-the constant gun fire, the shouting, the police sirens..."
"And who was calling your name?"
Jamie rubbed her hands together, combing back through her memory. "Spencer-excuse me, Dr. Reid. He's part of the BAU team as well."
"What happened after that?"
"I was carried away from everything."
"By Spencer, correct?"
Jamie nodded, tucking hair behind her ear. "He carried me away and then he put me on the ground. It was cold and it was wet and I remember seeing his face…the look on his face."
"What did it say?"
"It said panic," Jamie responded quickly. "There was a lot of blood. He was trying to stop the bleeding, but it kept coming through. I was spitting it up and it kept running down his hands. It was all over…then everything just went black."
"Do you think that was the trigger for your flashback at the crime scene?"
"I do believe so, yes."
"Okay, now I need to ask some more specific questions, Agent Carter. They're made to be simple yes or no questions, but if we need to go further than that, we will." Dr. Ross flipped through her papers and came across a new one, replacing the one she had previously written her notes on. "Have you experienced or witnessed a life-threatening event that caused intense fear, helplessness, or horror?"
Jamie gave a confused expression, "Um, I think we just discussed that. Did we not?"
"We did, but you need to come to terms with the event you were partaken in."
"…yes. I've experienced a life-threatening event."
"Does the past event cause you emotional or physical distress when you are exposed to elements that remind you of that event?"
Jamie though for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I don't think so."
"That doesn't sound too sure, Agent Carter."
"You don't have to keep calling me Agent Carter," Jamie insisted. "Um, okay, I guess a little emotional distress? I was kind of snappy towards some of my teammates while in Atlanta."
"So, that's a yes?"
"Yes."
"How about actions or feeling as if the event were happening all over again?"
Jamie scoffed lightly, "You mean…a flashback?"
"Yes, I mean a flashback."
"Then, yes. You already know that."
Dr. Ross regarded Jamie's tone, then wrote down more notes on her other paper. "Have you been avoiding thoughts, or feelings, or any conversation about the specific event?"
"I suppose, if I'm being completely honest with you. I felt like I was being coddled and I told my teammates to knock it off, not to worry about me, because there was nothing to worry about."
"Was?"
Jamie was taken aback by Dr. Ross's single word. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You said there was nothing to worry about. Does that mean there is something now?"
Jamie moved her head from side to side, thinking about what Dr. Ross had just said. Well, I wouldn't be here if there wasn't something to worry about. So, to answer your questions, yes. I do avoid talking about it."
"Do you avoid activities, places, or particular people who remind you of that event?"
Jamie shook her head abruptly, "No, not at all. That would mean avoiding my job, avoiding my teammates who are good friends of mine. So, no, I don't."
"How about your emotions? Do you feel that they're restricted?"
"I mean, I've never been one to be all mushy-gushy about my feeling, but they're expressed when they need to be."
The pen met the paper on Dr. Ross's clipboard once again. "So, you feel confident that you're able to let others know how you feel when it comes to what you experienced?"
"I haven't talked about it, to anyone."
"So, your emotions are restricted?"
"Only because I make it that way…" Jamie slouched back onto the couch. Closing her eyes as Dr. Ross continued.
"Do you have problems sleeping?"
"No."
"Irritability or outburst of anger?"
"No."
"Are you sure?" Dr. Ross questioned. "You mentioned earlier that you were snappy with some of your fellow team members…and as of right now, the tone I'm hearing sounds a little short-tempered."
Jamie opened her eyes and stared into the white ceiling above her. "I wouldn't call it an outburst of anger, really. I was just tired of everyone asking me if I was doing alright. As for what you're hearing in this very moment, I am a tad irritated."
"How come?"
Jamie sighed deeply, making sure to let Dr. Ross know she was grumpy. "For starters, you asked me questions you already know the answers to."
Scrawling could be heard throughout the room, indicating more mysterious notes from Dr. Ross. "Back to your team members now, you were quick to become irritated, would you say?"
"Yes…" Jamie said, her tone harder now. "Yes, I was made irritable fairly quickly."
"Do you have problems concentrating?"
Jamie's eyes stayed glued to the ceiling. With that question, her mind went back to the night at the club when Viper was blabbing on and on about chemical connections. She had let her eyes wander the room, eventually spying Spencer who wasn't too far away from where she had been. They shared smiles, but she had to be brought back into reality.
"…Jamie?"
"Yes, I have trouble concentrating."
"What about an exaggerated startle response?"
"Yes."
"Any changes within your sleeping or eating habits?"
"No."
"More days than not, do you feel depressed?"
Jamie laughed to herself and sat up on the couch, moving her hair back with her hand. "My whole job is depressing," she claimed. "The things that I've seen, most people only see that crap in the movies."
"I need a yes or a no answer."
"I say no."
"Alright, how about being disinterested in life?"
"No. I know I just told you that my job is depressing as hell, but I've been working towards this pretty much my whole life."
More pen to paper. "Have you been using any substances?"
Jamie scoffed, loudly this time. "…no. I work for the FBI, Dr. Ross. If I was abusing any kind of substance, I would be terminated. I'd never be able to work for the bureau again."
"Okay, now I want you to go back to the night of the shootout, one more time."
"Wha-why?"
"Agent Carter, it's essential as the last part of the evaluation. So, please, allow your mind to go back to that night."
"…fine." Jamie sat still, hands clasped together on her lap. "What do else do you need to know?"
"What was the last thing you remember seeing before you lost consciousness?"
"It was Spencer," Jamie thought bac, confident with her words. "He was covered in my blood."
"And who is Dr. Spencer Reid to you, Jamie?" Dr. Ross questioned.
"Uh, what do you mean?"
"It's simple, really. The last thing that you saw before you fell under was Spencer and he was covered in your blood, correct?"
"Yes, I just told you that."
"So, in that moment, how were you feeling?"
Jamie scooted to the edge of her seat and didn't hesitate to give the doctor a hard look. "I felt like I was dying."
"What about Spencer?"
"What about him? What does he have to do with this?"
"Agent Carter, I'm going to ask you this question and I need you to answer it honestly. Do you feel a tinge of guilt for putting your colleague in that situation?"
"Are you serious?" Jamie asked her, voice flooding with irritation. "What are you suggesting here, Dr. Ross?"
"Answer the question, please."
"It's not like I got shot on purpose!" Jamie shouted, not bothering to contain her attitude any longer. "Spencer just happened to be the one by my side and carry me away from the shooting! I feel guilty, because he shouldn't have had to go through that, not after what I already put him through!" Jamie was on her feet now, chest heaving and eyes wide. She had wanted to defend herself against whatever suggestions Dr. Rodd had been making, but something else came to the surface. When she realized what she had said, Jamie's face fell and she felt like an ass for yelling at someone who was only there to help her. Coming to terms with something that she didn't even knew lied underneath all of her other baggage, hit her like a brick. She sat back down, slowly, letting her head drop into her hands.
"Have you spoken to him about this?" Dr. Ross questioned.
Jamie shook her head, her face hidden by the curtain of brown hair. "…no."
"I take it you didn't even know that you felt that way? You buried it under all of the other stressors you're feeling."
Jamie lifted her head to look at Dr. Ross, "Sure, whatever you say." She put her head back into her hands, rubbing along her hairline. The noise of the pen being dragged along the paper could be heard and Jamie didn't even care what Dr. Ross was writing anymore.
"Okay, that's all I needed from you today, Agent Carter."
Jamie stood up and attempted to fix her composure. She wore a fake grin as she shook Dr. Ross's hand and thanked her for her help. When she left the room, a heavy weight lifted off of her chest, but she didn't feel better in the slightest. Jamie walked back down the long hallway, down to the bullpen so she could gather her belongings and leave. She could finish her work at home, she didn't need to be in the office setting to write out reports.
Entering the bullpen, Jamie walked casually to her desk. It was covered in paperwork, which she scooped into her hands and placed the crook of her arm. She grabbed her purse from her drawer and dug out her keys. Leaving the bullpen, she could've sworn she felt eyes on her, but she knew better than that. She felt paranoid, exposed after her evaluation. The elevator come quickly and Jamie stepped on, closing the doors before anybody could stop it. The ride down to the parking garage felt long, but in less than a minute, Jamie was making her way to her car. When she reached her car, Jamie got into the driver's seat and let her stack of paper spill over into the passenger's side. Keys in hand, she didn't start the engine, she just sat there.
In the dark of the parking garage, Jamie Carter felt lost. A part of her wasn't sure who she was anymore. She had always felt so confident (or at least she played it that way) and sure of everything she did. She wasn't a big believer in "everything happens for a reason", but now, she had no clue. Jamie knew she would be okay, eventually. Feeling lost and unsure is just a part of life and finding your path, right? She was positive that she would get past whatever it was she was going through. Except, she knew exactly what she was going though. She didn't want to ask during the evaluation, but it was easy to catch on to. The questions she was being asked, the kinds of responses she had been giving, it all pointed to one thing.
She was being screened for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Later that night, Jamie sat on her couch, accompanied by a glass of red wine that she barely touched and piles of reports. She hadn't attempted to go anywhere or speak to anyone, especially since she was still on edge from her evaluation. When she got back home, all of her attention was put into focusing on her reports and making sure they were up to good standards. She had breezed through them, finishing all eight of them. Now, she sat back on the couch, no noise to disrupt her self-pity-party. It was around eight o'clock and Jamie was going to wind down, turn in early for the night. Then, to her dismay, her phone lit up, sounding its ringtone.
It was Hotch.
Jamie grabbed the phone and looked at the screen, seeing her boss's name on its bright surface. If she didn't pick up, it would cause her more trouble than it was worth. Sighing, she answered the call, pressing the phone to her ear.
"This is Carter."
"Carter, I know it's getting late. I hope I didn't disturb you."
Jamie laughed silently to herself, looking at her reports. "No, I was just finishing my reports."
"Do you mind coming down to my office?"
"Um, right now?"
"Yes. I would prefer if we discussed this now instead of waiting."
"Okay," Jamie agreed, getting up from her position on the couch. "I can be there in about fifteen."
"See you then." Hotch said, ending the call on his end.
She picked up her coat from the closet, sliding it on and grabbing her purse. The reports were collected, ready to be turned in and she got her keys from her kitchen counter. Leaving her apartment, Jamie locked up behind herself and got into her car, gently placing the neatly organized reports on the passenger's side. The ride to the office wasn't far for her, so she knew she would be there sooner than fifteen minutes. She only said that to give herself more time. When she arrived at the security check, she scanned her badge, allowing her entry into the parking garage. She pulled her car into a parking space on the ground floor and cut the engine. With the reports in her hands and her purse on her arm, Jamie walked into the field office, went to the elevator and pressed the number six.
The elevator opened and Jamie was greeted with the smell of coffee and printed papers before even stepping foot into the bullpen. She reached the glass doors, opening it with a hard tug and walking through the threshold. On her way to her desk, she smiled and made eye contact with a few other agents who were no doubt staying late to finish their reports. At her desk, Jamie dumped off her reports and her eyes wandered over to Hotch's office. The light was on and the door was ajar. There could be anything waiting for her on the other side of that door, the worst being termination, but that was unlikely. Slowly at first, Jamie began walking up the catwalk to the office, attempting to get her nerves under control, her pace picking up to normal. When she reached his office, Jamie knocked lightly, popping her head around the corner to show it was her.
"Jamie, come in." Hotch said, gesturing with his hand for her to enter. "Close the door, please."
Jamie entered, her back to the door as she closed it. When she heard it click, she approached his desk and stood there.
Hotch didn't look up from his paperwork when he spoke to her. "Sit, please."
That sent a tinge of worry through Jamie and she sat down, placing her bag on the floor and wondering why he couldn't wait until tomorrow to speak to her. She knew it was about of evaluation, she just didn't know how bad it was.
"I take it you want to speak to me regarding my evaluation?" Jamie asked, keeping her eyes on her boss to show she wasn't nervous, when indeed, she was.
"Yes," Hotch answered, digging though papers to pull a black file from the stack. "These are Dr. Ross's notes and she provided you with a diagnosis as well."
"Let me guess, I'm suffering from a mild case of PTSD, right?" Jamie tried to joke, but received no such expression from Hotch.
"Here," Hotch said, handing her the folder. "take a look at that."
Jamie took the folder, eyes still on Hotch as she opened the file. When she looked down at Dr. Ross's handwriting, she noticed her scrawl penmanship. Her eyes went over the notes that said she was self-ware, but anxious, easily irritable and defensive, things of that nature. Turning over a few pages, Jamie came to the final page and her eyes immediately went to the bottom of the paper, where Dr. Ross had given her diagnosis.
"I, Dr. Elise Ross, the consulting expert on Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in the case of Jamie A. Carter, have come to a diagnosis. Currently, Ms. Carter suffers from an acute case of PTSD in the light of recent events. It would be in her best interest to continue working, but to be aware of not only what is going on around her, but also be aware and very attentive to herself. I do not recommend that she stays clear of any or all field activity, but Ms. Carter should not indulge all at once. I consulted the previous doctor, Dr. Wyatt, who gave Ms. Carter her first psychological evaluation, and we both agree that she did not show any immediate signs of PTSD due to her wishing of returning to the field, only three weeks after being released from the hospital. I advise Ms. Carter to be vigilant and to be open with those around her when she is feeling overwhelmed to help attempt to minimize any flashbacks."
Jamie looked up from the file, seeing Hotch staring at her as she read. Biting her lip, she closed the folder and handed it back to Hotch. He took it, burying it back under his current work.
"…jokes on me, right?" Jamie asked, regarding her crack at her possible diagnosis only moments earlier.
"I had asked you before we went to Atlanta if you were ready for a case."
"I know. I was and I still am," Jamie tried to reassure him. "I took time off from the field, because you asked me to. I complied without any argument. What do you want me to do, Hotch? Sit at my desk and write up your guys' reports for another three weeks? You might as well add on more weeks, then."
Hotch folded his hands on top of his desk and gave Jamie a stern look. "I could give you more time away from the field," he began, sending slight dread through the agent in front of him. "but we both read the report and that's not what's being recommended."
"So, I can join the team on the next case?"
"Yes, but I need you to start being honest with me. If something feels off, if you feel like you cannot handle it, I need you to tell me."
Jamie nodded, "I understand, but you and I both know that this isn't going to go away instantly."
"I'm very aware and I'll be here to help you see it through…we all will."
Jamie released a sigh, "Thank you, Hotch."
"You're welcome. Now, go home and get some sleep. I expect to see you to be at your best tomorrow, ready to go wherever the next case takes us."
"Absolutely," Jamie picked up her purse and rose from her seat, exiting Hotch's office. She stood on the catwalk for a moment, staring down at her everyday surroundings. This was it, this was what she wanted. There might be a bump in the road and there would certainly be more in the future, but here and now, Jamie knew she would make her way over the first of many.
Oh boy, was she in for a bumpy ride.
Thanks for reading and please remember to review! I would really appreciate it.
