A/N: Okay, I feel like I should give you guys the heads-up…this chapter goes into self-mutilation and cutting, so if you're squeamish about those things or if those are triggers for you, you might want to consider skipping this chapter. It's pretty short, so you won't be missing much. Sorry it's so short, I've been going nuts between work and home, haven't had much time to work on any of my stories.
Chapter Five
Zack felt uneasy as he returned to his quarters for lunch, takeout in hand. Amy had taken the news from Sinclair hard the night before, and he'd been reluctant to leave when he had to report for duty that morning; technically, she was still on suicide watch, even though she hadn't made any move to harm herself, but so much had been revealed in the past two days that he worried for her.
When he opened the door to his quarters and walked in, his sense of foreboding increased tenfold; Amy was nowhere to be seen, but the doors to the bedroom were closed. Holding his breath, he set the food down on the counter and walked to the double doors, then quietly opened them.
Amy was sitting with her back against the wall, a lost look in her lifeless eyes. As Zack's feet carried him to her without conscious thought, he took in the details and shuddered inwardly…her left hand held a knife from the kitchen, and the inside of her right forearm was cut in several places. Her eyes were focused loosely on the blood dripping from her arm, which he thankfully realized was surprisingly lacking in quantity. She didn't look at him until he pulled the knife out of her hand and put it safely out of reach, and when she did, she had tears in her eyes.
"Why?" he asked softly, even though he felt completely stupid asking such a question. She gave him a sad attempt at a smile.
"Balance…physical pain makes the rest easier to deal with," she said simply, not moving as he ran to get a towel from the bathroom, then wrapped her injured arm with it. "I wasn't trying to kill myself, you know…if I had, I'd be dead."
The blunt, matter-of-fact tone she used ripped at his chest. Nobody should have to feel what she's feeling—nobody should have to have their lives screwed up this bad to where they hurt themselves, he thought to himself as he removed the towel and checked the cuts. As she had claimed, they were superficial at best, having barely breached the skin to be able to bleed. Still, it was disturbing to say the least, and if he didn't say anything and she decided to take things further, he'd never be able to forgive himself, not to mention the berating he would get from Dr. Franklin, the Chief, and probably the commander and lieutenant commander as well. With all that in mind, he hit his link.
"Security to Franklin."
"Franklin here."
"Doc, it's Zack…I'm bringing Amy back in…looks like you were right."
"What's her status?" He studied her for a long moment; he knew she hadn't taken any additional meds while he was gone because he'd kept them in his pocket, but she seemed pretty disconnected from reality.
"Several cuts to her arm…they look superficial, but pretty sure they're self-inflicted…I wanted to get her checked out, just in case."
"Okay, bring her in," came the harried reply; Zack could only guess that he was feeling the same frustration and worry. Amy hadn't spoken at all during the communication, hadn't acknowledged that she was even aware it had happened…after only a second's hesitation, he picked her up from the floor and carried her out the door, leaving her crutch and the forgotten food behind.