CHAPTER FOUR: SOMETHING'S GOTTA GIVE

As it turned out, Rachel didn't see Tom that night. When she came to tell Ashley and Sam a story at bedtime, Jed was the one in their room with them. The children didn't mention where their father was, and Rachel decided not to bring it up. It appeared this wasn't unusual for them.

She told two stories: one about traveling to Asia, which she knew would appeal to their curiosity about the world, and one about her own childhood nighttime traditions. She had fond memories of curling up in a chair with her father in order to hear him read a book or listen to music.

Soft snores could be heard from Sam's top bunk before she'd finished, and Ashley was also pretty drowsy by the end. "Will you come back tomorrow?" the young girl whispered.

Rachel smiled. "We'll see. I'll have to think of another story. Goodnight, luv."

"G'night."

Jed gave each of his grandchildren a kiss goodnight before following Rachel out into the hall. "Thank you," he told her as he gently shut the hatch behind him. "They were very excited about this."

"It was my pleasure… though I'd imagine their father would have just as many stories about traveling the world," Rachel pointed out.

Jed sighed. "Yeah, he does, but… Evenings aren't that good for him. The pain gets worse, so he takes the pills from the doctor, but they knock him out. Then he doesn't sleep well through the night... and the cycle continues."

Rachel bit her lip. "Has he spoken to Doc Rios about it?" Surely there was an alternative medication he could be taking or some other solution.

"No, he hasn't. And he'd wring my neck if he knew I was telling you…" Jed scoffed as he realized something. "I guess I taught him that - never show signs of weakness."

She wasn't quite sure how to respond; that seemed to be something ingrained in all of the crew. Their strength allowed them to do some of the toughest jobs on the planet, but also seemed to make it harder for them to admit when they or someone close to them had a problem. "It's fortunate for him and the children that you're here and can help take care of them."

Jed shrugged. "They're my family. All I got left now… You know, you're very good with them. The children. And that's not just lip service," he added when it looked like she was going to protest. "They trust you, feel comfortable around you. That's no small feat."

"Well, thank you." Rachel pursed her lips for a moment, contemplating whether or not to say what she was thinking. "I was a year older than Ava when my father died," she finally revealed. Jed hadn't known that about her and wondered if his son or anyone else onboard did. "I was Daddy's Little Girl," she continued in a low voice, her eyes downcast. "Always following him around everywhere... and then he was gone." Rachel took a shaky breath, blinking back tears. Even after all those years, the wound was raw. "I went into science because of him. Maybe I'm still trying to make him proud of me."

Jed smiled. "I can't see how he could be anything but."

Rachel wiped her eyes, taking a moment to collect herself. "I know Ashley and Sam look up to their father just as much. And I desperately hope that he gets better, for their sakes. They need him, especially now."

He slowly nodded. "What keeps me up at night is the idea that someday they'll stop trying. Someday they'll stop looking for a reaction or interaction with him because they've gone so long without getting one."

Rachel shuddered at the thought. "I hope it doesn't come to that."

"So do I..." Jed tried to smile. "Well, I don't want to keep you from your work just to listen to the ramblings of an old man."

~ % ~

As they said their goodbyes, neither of them was aware that someone else had been listening to their conversation. Tom had woken up and heard when they'd come into the p-way. He'd started to join them but then realized they were talking about him. So instead, he'd just listened through the slightly-open hatch. And he'd gotten an earful.

Tom sat back down on his bed and picked up the family picture on his nightstand. Their smiling faces taunted him. He'd never considered his father's big fear, but now the idea had him terrified, too. He'd been so afraid of making things worse for his kids... but what if he already was? Something had to give; they couldn't continue down this road.

In the morning, Rachel was in her lab bright and early. She'd had another nightmare about Baltimore, but was trying to push it from her mind. She had better things to focus on.

When the hatch's hinges squeaked lightly, signalling Bertrise's arrival, a smile crossed Rachel's face. "Good morning."

The teen gave a sheepish grin as she entered the lab. "Good morning. I'm sorry I'm late."

Rachel shook her head, dismissing the apology. "If you can't sleep in a bit on your birthday, when can you?"

Bertrise turned to her, stunned speechless. She'd had a hard time getting going that morning because she'd been thinking about the people she'd never share another birthday with. She didn't think anyone here even knew. But now she watched as Rachel picked up a small plate holding a muffin with a little candle stuck in the top.

"I'm sorry this was the best I could do for a cake," the scientist told her.

"H-How did you know?" Bertrise finally stuttered.

"I saw the paperwork that was done after you came onboard. So, how does it feel to be 17?"

Bertrise laughed, but a tear spilled down her cheek. "I don't know. Not very different, really." No one in their right mind would ever be glad for the Red Flu. However, Bertrise knew that if it hadn't happened - if she hadn't lost everything and everyone she'd ever known - then she wouldn't have Rachel and the rest of the Nathan James' crew in her life. They were the best second family she could have asked for. "Thank you," she told Rachel as she stepped forward and gave her a hug.

Rachel smiled. Looking out for Bertrise - taking care of her - was an honor that she'd taken even more seriously since Baltimore. Rachel refused to let down anyone else that was relying on her. "You're very welcome, luv. Happy Birthday."

Doc Rios was used to making 'house calls' to the Captain's quarters; he'd made several over the past few weeks. However, he was accustomed to doing them on his own schedule, not being summoned.

That morning, when he arrived, Tom was sitting up on the edge of his bed, waiting. "What can I do for you?" Rios asked as he sat in the Captain's desk chair.

Tom's gaze shifted away from the doctor, looking down at the floor. "I... I need help," he quietly admitted. "I don't want to be feeling the way I do right now, but I'm not sure what to do about it."

Rios slowly nodded. "How are you feeling?"

Tom sighed, clenching fistfuls of his blanket as he forced himself to get through the conversation. "Angry. At everything... Guilty... Useless... Sometimes I can barely make myself get through the day; I just want to block everything out."

"You've been through a lot," Rios tried to tell him.

"We've all been through a lot," Tom snapped. He didn't want to make excuses for himself. Not everyone was falling to pieces. "I just... I don't feel like me. And that's gotta stop. For my kids' sake, it's gotta stop." He suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting the doctor's. "I don't... I don't know how to fix this." It was one of the hardest and most humbling things he'd done in his life - realizing he had a real problem that he didn't know how to solve.

Rios sat forward in his chair. Circumstances had forced him into playing the role of psychiatrist a lot recently. They'd had a couple cases of PTSD make themselves known since Baltimore. He suspected more were lying in wait like bombs that could go off at any moment. "Well," he told the Captain, "The good news is that now you don't have to figure out how to fix it by yourself."

Tom shook his head, looking down once more. "I should be better than this."

"Well, unfortunately, Captain's insignia don't make you invincible," Rios commented. Tom's gave him a sideways glance. "We're all mere mortals. So we'll see what we can do and where we go from here. For starters..." He looked to the pill bottles on the nightstand and grabbed two of them. "Let's make some changes with these."

Rios reached into his bag and retrieved a new container. He'd had a visitor late the night before - Dr. Rachel Scott - who had given him a heads-up that trouble was brewing with the Captain. He'd planned to come switch out Tom's medications that day, even if the other man hadn't wanted to talk to him. Besides apparently wreaking havoc with his sleep schedule, the strong painkillers had the potential to cause or worsen depression as a side effect. But now that the Captain realized there was a problem, Rios felt more confident that they'd find a solution. There was only so much he could do for patients who weren't ready to help themselves.

"Try taking these instead for the pain," Rios suggested as he handed over the new pill bottle. "If taking two isn't enough, talk to me and we'll figure something else out."

Tom nodded, knowing the key phrase had been 'talk to me.' It wasn't his usual way but for his family's sake, he was willing to try anything. "Thanks, Doc."

That evening, Tom shaved and gave himself a haircut. In the morning, he tried to start a normal routine again, getting up at a decent hour and going to wake his kids. He still felt like he was in fake-it-until-you-make-it mode, but Rios had suggested that getting back to a regular routine and healthy habits could help him. Tom had also had a long late-night chat with his father. It had been relieving to get some things off his chest and he hoped that, going forward, Jed could help him.

"Ash, Sam, it's time to get up," he told his kids as he turned on the light in their room.

"Don't wanna," Ashley grumbled, rolling over away from him. She'd never been a morning person. Sam, however, realized that there was something unusual about their wakeup call - the person making it.

"Dad?" he wondered as he sat up on his top bunk.

"Morning, pal."

"Where's Grandpop?"

"He's getting ready for the day, and you two need to, too."

Ashley had also sat up by now, and the siblings gave each other a skeptical look. Their father hadn't been there to wake them up since before he deployed to the Arctic. On some mornings over the past few weeks, it had seemed like he didn't even want them stopping by his room to say hello before breakfast. Having him actually come to them was new and different.

"Are we in trouble?" Sam wondered.

That question threw Tom for a loop. "Should you be?" he countered. Sam thought about it for a second, then shook his head vigorously. Tom couldn't help a little smile. "Okay, good."

Ashley got up and started trying to pick out clothes. They didn't have many options, just a few things that had been picked up on shore stops. Both children had been wearing too-big Navy t-shirts and shorts to sleep. However, Ashley still liked trying to match her clothes to her mood. "Will you braid my hair?" she asked her father as she rifled through her dresser drawer.

He sighed. "You know I'm near hopeless at that, Ash."

"I know... but can you try?" Even if he wasn't successful, it would still be time they spent together.

"Okay, I'll try. Sammy, climb on down; you gotta get dressed, too." The little boy was still perched on his bed.

He obliged, but instead of heading for the dresser or getting their toiletry kit, he walked straight to his father and wrapped his arms around him. Unprepared, Tom almost lost his balance on his crutches.

"What was that for, pal?" he wondered.

"Good morning, Dad," the little boy declared with a smile.

Tom returned it. "Morning, bud. How are you today?"

"Good. How are you?"

No matter what else happened, he had to be there for his kids. His father had been doing a fantastic job, but they needed more. They deserved more. "I'm working on being good."

TBC...

A/N: Parts of this story were inspired by friends of mine and the battles they fight every day against depression and other mental health issues. I wish that everyone who is struggling with these issues could have someone to go to for help and never feel ashamed or alone.