The day had passed, finally. It was just one long drone for Rodney. He couldn't ignore the glances he'd gotten from everyone he passed. He had a briefing first thing in the morning, and the others had acted like he wasn't even there. Rodney didn't do anything to change their attitude; he sat there quietly and didn't give any input. They never asked him, and he never offered any suggestions. The rest of the day he was in the lab with Zelenka. Rodney was just as quiet; he only spoke once he actually needed someone else's help or attention, and even that was in an uncharacteristic hushed and gentle tone. He had ignored any attempt to bait him, ignored the insults, and had left on time for once. He barely looked anyone in the eye, but that wasn't so unusual for him.
Strangely, Rodney had felt increasingly tense while working. He was just doing maintenance of the systems, nothing that was taxing or the least bit challenging. Yet, as the day wore on, he felt more and more anxious. He of course tried to hide it from his colleagues, and had gotten rather annoyed at himself for it being a problem in the first place. Nothing he did seemed to abate the feeling of dread. He found himself staring at the clock in the end, just waiting for his shift to be over so he could escape back to his room. He felt he couldn't breathe for the last hour, and had left the lab gasping for air. He was sitting on his bed, trying to control his breathing.
No one died today. There were no incidents. I did nothing wrong… Rodney repeated to himself. Why was he so anxious? There had been nothing to bring about this near panic attack. The scientist sighed to himself, the overwhelming sadness washing over him. That, at least, calmed him down. This must just be my life now. Maybe a punishment? He thought. He preferred the feeling of being hollow and filled with ice over the feeling of dread and panic. He hung his head in his hands.
"I'm falling apart." He uttered to himself. "… and I deserve it." He sighed deeply, feeling the pain of the emptiness radiate through his body. Pain… he deserved that as well. He thought that maybe if he caused some more pain, something physical, it would be easier? Or it would distract him for a bit at least?
"Carson, may I speak to you for a moment?"
The doctor looked up from the microscope to see Radek standing near him.
"Radek, of course! What's up?" Carson said cheerfully as he spun in his chair.
"I don't know if I should exactly be saying this, but I am feeling a little worried about Rodney."
Carson's stomach dropped. He had hoped Rodney's first day back on the job would go smoothly and he'd just ease back into his old self, putting everything else behind him. It may have been a bit presumptuous.
"I think I know what you're talking about, I've had my eye on him for the past week."
"Oh, that is good, you probably don't need me talking with you then." Radek said, and made to leave.
"Radek wait!" Carson said before the scientist had taken two steps. "Please, have a seat."
Radek pulled up the chair next to Carson.
"I think it might be a good idea to have this conversation. First, what was it that you noticed about him?"
"Well, he wasn't acting at all himself. He was being … pleasant. Not overly friendly, but he didn't insult anyone and just kept to himself. He didn't even respond when people poked their usual fun at him. He just kept his head down and focused on his own things. No shouting… it was like he didn't have the heart for what he was doing. He left right on time, but had been acting funny for a time before that."
"Funny how?"
"Oh like sighing and breathing irregularly. By the last 10 minutes he was panting, but I don't think he thought we noticed."
Carson thought that it sounded like a panic attack, and of course one that Rodney would try to hide. He took a deep breath. This apparently wasn't going to be as easy as he hoped. Radek might be able to help though.
"Radek, I know it's hard to believe, but he's actually going through a rough time right now. I was hoping getting back to his old duties would help but it sounds like it isn't. I can't really tell you the details, but he's not ok. No one seems to be interested in how he's been handling things since the incident."
"Well no, he was being a -"
"Yes, well, it's in the past now. He puts on a … an outgoing and confident personality, let's just say… to try compensate for his insecurity."
Radek was skeptical, having only known the abrasive Rodney. But he was still a friend, and so Radek listened further.
"I want you to just try be kind to him. And tell me how he's going during work."
"I can do that, Carson. Believe me, after what I've had to put up with in the past, I can be kind to this less aggressive Rodney."
Rodney took out a knife from the kitchen. He poked the tip of his finger, not enough to cause any harm, as he walked at sat at the table. He looked at the knife, and at his finger that he held out in front of him.
"This is stupid." He said and put both his hands and the knife on the table. Well, it was only going to be a little prick, just to see if it did work in distracting him…
"Ok, just a prick." he told himself and steadied his hand, the knife hovering over his middle finger. He breathed deep and jabbed the pointed end into the side of his finger. He felt the adrenaline rush through his body at the shock of it - just what he'd hoped. He looked intently at the small bead of red that leaked out. It was just so … meaningful. To see blood was to see the hurt. If only it were as simple to see the hurt inside him as it was to see blood. He sighed and put the knife in the sink. He thought he'd feel even worse about harming himself, but it did in fact, in some strange way, make him feel better. Maybe it was the control? The visual undeniable proof that there was something wrong? As a scientist, clear proof was a comfort to him, and being in control was also a comfort… so it wasn't really as surprising as he'd thought.
He went to bed rethinking his teen years. He'd known of self harm, known people who did it, but never understood it. He'd always thought them weak, or obnoxiously calling out for attention in a selfish manner he had a distaste for. But he realised he never actually understood it, and doubted that anyone who didn't feel as he did now would be able to understand. That's why he decided to keep this hidden from everyone, even (his boyfriend?) Carson.
On cue, the door opened and Carson entered. A sudden panic rushed through Rodney at the thought of how close he'd come to being seen - he decided to be less open about it next time.
"Rodney?"
"In here." Rodney responded from the bed.
Carson entered the room, and again sat on the bed.
"How was your day? Did things go ok?"
"Reasonable."
"What were you doing?"
"Maintenance."
"Alright. Was your team happy to see you?"
"I doubt it."
Carson nudged Rodney's leg with his hand.
"Oi, what was that for?"
"Because I'm sure you're being too hard on yourself."
"Pfft, no, I just don't think they were happy to have to deal with me again."
"Were they unkind?" Carson enquired, pretending not to have spoken with Radek at all.
"No they were fine. I've just always shouted at them in the past, they don't have much reason to want me back."
"Oh you never know." Carson said, wanting to end the conversation about Rodney's shortcomings. He cleared his throat before continuing. "Did you feel alright? Just between us."
Rodney sat upright and looked at Carson. He sunk into himself and looked about. He wanted to tell Carson at least about the problems with anxiety he'd been having.
"Well … just between us, I had been feeling rather… anxious. I don't know why, we weren't doing anything even slightly difficult or dangerous. But I found myself getting more tense as the day wore on and by the end I couldn't breathe."
"Hm, well, depression and anxiety often occur together - yes, Rodney, as a doctor that is my diagnosis - so it's not that uncommon. I could start you on some antidepressants?"
"No."
"Rodney, it's alright to be on medication…"
"No. They affect your mind, and that's what I'm needed around he for. I won't jeopardise that unless it's absolutely necessary. As it is, I'm going alright aside from those panic attack things. Just give me something for those instead if you must."
Carson sighed and looked at his … partner? They should have a conversation about that later on, he thought. It wasn't really standard practise to prescribe antidepressants before a month of symptoms, but these were different circumstances. It wasn't recommended to prescribe the medication Rodney was asking for even for patients that had used antidepressants for years without incident… there was too much of a chance of becoming dependant on them instead of sorting the issue itself out. But in all honesty, there wasn't much of a chance to sort out the issue. Even if one was solved, another took its place… such was the nature of their predicament. And Rodney was right: he was needed.
"Carson?"
"Aye?"
"Nothing, you've just been sitting there not talking for a while."
"Sorry, love. I was just thinking about your request."
"Request?"
"The type of medication you want isn't something generally given for this problem this early."
"But?"
"But I think I will allow it. But there are some conditions."
Rodney looked about. He wasn't sure if he even wanted it to begin with, now he had to agree to conditions?
"First, is that they are for emergencies only. Not to be taken just whenever you feel like it… you have to be actually staving off a panic attack. Second, you will need to talk with me or Dr Heightmyer fairly regularly until you're back to not needing them. Third…it's more a request than a condition… let Radek know."
"I can concede to the first. And I'm only going to talk with you, I don't want anyone else involved. Which is why I won't do third."
"Rodney, it would ease my mind a lot if I knew you had someone else that knew even a little that is around you more than I. Please."
Rodney sighed. He found it very difficult to argue with the doctor when he was looking at him with those pleading blue eyes. Rodney really didn't want anyone else involved, but if it meant he would get something to help that awful suffocating feeling that interfered with his work, he would concede.
"Fine, I'll tell Zelenka something. Not everything mind, just to be aware of needing the pills."
"Good. Now, come to the infirmary and I'll get you some. Then would you like to go to the mess and have dinner?"
"Yeah, sounds good."
They got up and left for the infirmary. Carson pulled a key out of his jacket pocket, and opened a large cabinet filled with an assortment of medications. He flicked around a few before finding one he wanted. He opened the box, one of many, and pulled out a single strip. He closed the cabinet with the key, and slipped it back in his jacket while turning around to Rodney.
"Now, these are benzodiazepines. These are rather strong, so take only one when you feel overwhelmed by anxiety. There's 10 there, and I don't expect you to need more for around another two weeks."
Rodney said nothing, and nodded, taking the strip and putting it in his pocket.
"Dinner?" Carson asked cheerfully.
"Dinner." Rodney said, returning the smile.