Posted by Commander Roman Alden (First Officer & Chief Science Officer) in side - sim: Honoring the Ardent

Posted by Ensign Rand Farquharson (Yeoman First Class) in side - sim: Honoring the Ardent

Posted by Commander Roman Alden (First Officer & Chief Science Officer) in side - sim: Honoring the Ardent
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
No, he even fell asleep at his desk more times than the first. He’d only left to use the restroom, and with how little he was eating and drinking, he hadn’t needed to do that very many times. And to freshen up in the morning, make sure he didn’t look like the train wreck he sort of had been that week. At the mention of his project, Roman choked back tears. Why did that happen every time? He cried too much lately. He shook his head, all evidence of his earlier anger gone from his body language and voice. “No.” The word was soft and quietly spoken. His shoulders sagged. He wanted to check his face for wetness but if it was dry, he didn’t want to make it blatantly obvious he was trying not to cry again.

~ Roman

Well that was progress because Randy knew it wouldn’t. Because it wasn’t just the work. He waited a moment letting Alden work with the moment.

“You’re a scientist. I want you to consider something, but we are looking at qualitative data not quantitative.” There were ways to study using quantitative but Randy didn’t want Alden getting overly analytical. “You shared your Jui Jitsu for years with Jay. It’s fully connected to him and your memories of him. You grew up together learning, practicing, competing. But you returned to it, you practice several times a week, but his memory doesn’t stop you in your tracks. You both shared your goals of a Star Fleet career for even long than your Jiu Jitsu. You made a pact to become Captains together and you worked towards that goal together. But you stayed and kept going when you could have resigned. So there are significant things that you choose to do every day that are linked to Jay and his memory.” Randy had his own voice training, and made sure he didn’t sound offensive or challenging. “I just want you to think about it, why is this memory, of your work together, feel so impossible you can’t think about it?”

Randy

Roman thought he had a grip on his emotions but when Randy mentioned their jiu jitsu competitions and then their childhood pact, the tears started. And Roman couldn’t make them stop. He took a deep breath before he spoke but his voice still shook as he did, “They do bother me when I practice. It took months after I was originally medically cleared. I… I wasn’t doing anything at all, wasting away in my quarters. I’d do nothing but work and then I’d sit in my room and try to sleep. Or go back to work. They threatened to put me back in sickbay because I wasn’t eating enough, wasn’t exercising and quite obviously wasn’t sleeping. I just don’t think about it, I block it out and when I can’t do that…” He paused briefly, the next part was really embarrassing, but the words made their way out anyway, “I cry in the locker room shower stall.” It was something he used to need to do more than he did now but he’d found himself doing it more again. He’d been practicing his jiu jitsu since his leg had stopped bothering him after PT. He had to take a moment to snatch a tissue off his desk and wipe his face and blow his nose.

Then he continued, “I didn’t feel there was a choice in whether I resigned or not. I did consider resigning, I even wanted to. But there’s no where else for me to go. Starfleet is all I’ve ever wanted, all I have left, especially after…” His sentence ended in a sob he tried to hold in and failed. Everything for him was a game of not thinking about it, and when he failed to not think about it that was when his nightmares got worse. When he stopped eating because he was burying himself in work to make it go away. He couldn’t think about Jay as much if he filled his head with all the science and reports he could find.

This project issue was work and yet it was work where he’d have to reread notes they’d both written and added to, listen to audio recordings and watch videos of them working together. He couldn’t even think about Jay and he was supposed to do that? He couldn’t.

~ Roman

“I didn’t say it didn’t bother you, only that you have been able to return to those activities.” A pause as Randy chose his next words. “What you normally do, ignore it, push it away, isn’t working. And we know it isn’t working because the memories and the nightmares sneak up on you and almost completely destabilize you. So you try even harder to ignore it and the cycle continues. So let’s look at what you said about your Jiu Jitsu. You block it out while you’re practicing, and then after you allow it expression in the privacy of the shower. That’s healthy. Obviously you can’t go around actively grieving constantly, but you take the time to express it, even if only to yourself. And practicing doesn’t give you nightmares. So, next time you feel the need to block it out, I want to to instead consciously acknowledge, to yourself, that it bothers you because it reminds you of Jay or the Ardent, and then push it away. The trick though, is later, after your shift or the activity, you allow yourself to express that grief. However that is.”

Roman glanced up. That was healthy? Roman hated when he needed to do that, avoided it if he could. He didn’t want to need to express it, in fact he hated how unstable his emotions had been since the disks came his way, how much he’d been crying, how often he needed Rand’s support. Whenever his nightmares worsened especially before they’d been dating, he’d hated that nearly every night he’d need help falling asleep. He’d wait until he’d calmed after his nightmare, stopped shaking or crying or whatever else reaction his nightmares caused, before turning up at her door. Randy would be able to tell that Roman didn’t like it, but Roman nodded slowly.

Oh wow, were Rand and Alden perfect for each other. Rand worked so hard because she felt she had no where else to go. Alden apparently felt the same. Randy knew this comment might sound more like being a brother than a therapist, but he could honestly say that has nothing to do with it. “You do realize that isn’t true anymore? Star Fleet is not all you have left, any more.”

Randy

Was he referring to Rand? Of course he had Rand now. There was still nothing for him outside of Starfleet. If they quit together right then Roman hadn’t the faintest idea what he’d do with the rest of his life. Spend it with Rand, yes, but doing what? He liked to be right here with her, on a starship. And he liked to think she wanted the same.

He glanced briefly at the time. He was already late for his shift. Or was it his day off? He couldn’t remember. Either way he made no motion to move. He was already late, and he wasn’t going to show up looking like he did, his eyes water, his face splotchy because he’d been crying again.

~ Roman

Randy could read Alden almost as well as Rand did. Probably better at times. But that was Randy’s talent, understanding people. “Consider the Crimson Snake. The feeding method wasn’t working, he was aggressive by nature but also increasingly defensive of the intrusion to his territory. What you were doing wasn’t working. Then En Anderson came along and was able to see what was being done wrong and provide a better solution. You didn’t particularly like being corrected, but you were able to see how he was correct, make the changes and now the snake is in a much healthier situation and so are the other animals.” How did Randy know this? Because he’d been Alden’s yeoman at the time and was privy to all those discussions. “Look I know you don’t like it. But what you are doing now isn’t working. Just like what you were doing with the snake wasn’t working, what you are doing to handle your grief isn’t working. You need to try a different approach.” Randy thought a moment more, the look surprisingly similar to Rand when she was deep in thought considering something she had observed in the lab. “When you began PT for your leg, at first it was hard, difficult, you had more pain and a great deal of fatiuge, more than before the surgery. The new muscle had no training and no endurance. You had to train it, and eventually the pain and fatigue went away. Your brain, your mind, is also a muscle that must be trained. If you only train it one way for one thing, it is very adept but will fail when faced with other scenarios. Much like your leg. If you trained your leg to only with stand hours of standing still, when you attempted to walk the muscle would fail you because it could not compensate for the give and take of muscle contraction and release, and you would fall. I won’t lie and say it will be easy or get harder for a bit, but it will get better in the end. Or you can continue as you are.” That was the thing with therapy, he had to want it and be willing to try, not because he or Rand brow beat him into doing it.

“Crimson Cobra,” Roman corrected quietly. He disliked the mention of his leg and of his PT and he rubbed his leg out of habit and memory, not real pain. To Roman, it ‘worked’ just fine if he could do his job. And normally he could. As long as it didn’t involve the Ardent. Or Jay. But rarely did three year old shipwrecks become relevant, so he’d never considered that a problem. Until now, when it was. But that would be over soon. As soon as he figured out what to do about the last project. The one he wouldn’t think about. “What’s wrong with how I am now?” That was probably obvious to Randy but Roman did not see it for himself.

Randy nodded to the correction. He had never taken the interest in the animals that Rand had. He’d simply transcribed the reports as they were given to him. He didn’t have the almost eidetic memory that Rand had. “Nothing if you like living this way. You have nightmares and experience flashbacks. That’s what happened at the dance. You suffer from anxiety specifically anything which might expose you to reminders, and avoidance of anything connected to what you don’t want to remember. You suffer from severe withdrawal, not only avoiding contact with your fellow officers, but avoiding spending time alone with yourself and food and exercise, withdrawing from those things that keep you alive and healthy. You suffer from a nervous condition called hyperarousal. Meaning that your nervous system is always on edge and can never settle which means you can’t sleep even when your body is completely exhausted. It is no surprise to you that the crew finds you difficult to deal with, you have high standards and expect them to be met. I’m not talking of that. You have high irritability when you are under strain from the memories. Becoming less patient and even snapping at people.” Hence his lashing out several times this session alone. “You carry a great deal of guilt over the incident, guilt that is not justified, and shame about how you feel and your reactions. You suffer mood swings, you are hypervigilant and your behaviors change. Put simply Cmdr, you suffer from Acute Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

Roman was silent for a long moment after Randy listed every sign and symptom. He’d wanted to argue multiple times, he didn’t have anxiety, he wasn’t that difficult, he wasn’t guilty. Mood swings were something women experienced. They were all true of course, but Roman was stubborn and those things didn’t fit into the way he saw himself. But as Randy piled onto the list Roman simply grew silent, Randy’s words bouncing about in his head. It was at that time that he glanced at the clock.

Randy saw him glance at the clock, “You’ve been working near triple shifts for a week. No one will think even once about it if you arrive late or take the day off. And you even said that Science Command didn’t put a rush on the files, so you have no reason to rush back right now.”

Randy

Of course Randy knew everything about his files. What exactly did the Farquharson twins not know? At least if he wasn’t working, he didn’t have to deal with the last project. All he had to do was review the thing and decide if the project needed continuing. Roman couldn’t think of any reason it would, unless Starfleet still wanted an outpost there. But if they did, wouldn’t they have pursued it long ago?

~ Roman

Randy almost sighed. He was so good at his job it sometimes seemed to others he was telepathic, though he was not. In fact he had very little experience with such things, other than what he had read about Vulcans and Aenar. Alden’s look, just a flash, though was one of annoyance that Randy was quite familiar with from Alden. It had been his constant companion when he was Alden’s Yeoman and he was accused of meddling and interfering regularly. Randy knew about the files because Alden had told him about them and the orders from Science Command when he’d first arrived. Randy wasn’t sure what exactly had caused the look, but he figured it had something to do with Randy saying he could take the day off.

Randy

Roman sighed a long, defeated sigh. Of course he didn’t like living this way. He’d only gone for help originally because his symptoms had worsened and begun to affect his duties. That, and Rand had talked him into it. Even if he did agree with Randy, he said it would get worse before it got better, what if it getting worse meant he couldn’t do his job? He still didn’t want anyone knowing about it, any of it, not even that he was seeing Randy as a therapist. What explanation could there possibly be if he couldn’t work because he was too tired, if he had a flashback in the lab or had to leave? He already had to hide how nervous the ship’s shaking made him. How much more could he hide before his crew started taking notice? What would they think? Surely no one would believe someone with such problems was able to run a ship. It would be even worse if anyone ever found out Randy had called it acute PTSD.

On the other hand, what if Randy really could change it? Sure, Randy had already said the nightmares would never 100% stop, but the rest of it? The lack of sleep, the avoidance of things, the jumpiness in those situations that reminded him of it. Could he really make them stop? Roman frowned and looked away, avoiding saying anything at all.

~ Roman

Randy waited but Alden didn’t say anything else. He was quiet long enough that Randy was certain he wouldn’t. He was thinking and Randy, after all these months, knew Alden would and find him when he was ready. One final thought, “You know, Rand, she has it too but she serves with distinction. If she’s stubborn enough to do it, there is no doubt you can.” He placed his hands on his knees, leaning forward and standing, “Well, you know where to find me.”

Randy

Roman stood when Randy did, showing him out the door. Then he took a quick shower and got ready, and headed down to the lab. He wanted to avoid the last project, and he could. Randy had a point, there was no rush on the files. So he would bury himself in his other work. He reached the lab and sat at his desk - nearly an hour and a half late. Then he looked for his paperwork.

~ Roman

Roman’s paperwork sat on his desk waiting. Rand had been in the lab at her normal time and worked on compiling the notes as much as possible. Franks had asked her if he should do the reports, but she just grinned and shrugged, “It’s Cmdr Alden, he’s always at work.” Which Franks had to agree with. Though if it had been himself pulling those hours he would have taken the day or two off. He supervised Rand while she worked with Nibbles and then because she didn’t have Alden’s reports yet, he let her do a little work with Mushu.

Rand left because she had her morning meeting with Rogers, but was unable to return until a few minutes before lunch.

Rand