thefolder | TW: suicidal ideation, depression

Entry tags:

TW: suicidal ideation, depression

Who: Jane Shepard and Campbell Saunders

What: Suicide Intervention. Trigger warning, obviously.

When: April 15, 2013

Where: Cam's Room

[Shepard doesn't watch the feeds all day, but she usually assigns Monodramon to do so when she can't have at least have it on in the room. She's in the shower when Cam has his conversation with Henry, but Monodramon is curled up with her D-Terminal on her bed. He knows what to watch for- people in pain, references to injuries, anyone who sounds really nervous.]

[Cam hits all three, and Monodramon pounds on the bathroom door, heart beating fast. Something is very wrong, and he remembers something Shepard told him a few days ago: if humans die, they almost always stay dead.]

[Shepard opens the door with a grumpy look on her face, wet hair, and a towel wrapped around her.]

What do you want, Cade--

They're talkin' about killing somebody!

[Shepard's face twists into something stone-serious and she grabs for the D-Terminal, not caring about her damp fingers. She flicks on the replay and watches, before silently handing the D-Terminal back to her digimon. Her tone is steady.]

I'll be out in 2 minutes.

[She doesn't dry her hair, and the clothes she throws on are technically her pajamas, a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. She's down the hall before the mirror in the bathroom has even become useable after all the steam. She remembers the room locations, drilled them into her brain on the first day as soon as she learned that there were kids staying in all of those rooms, and she doesn't bother knocking on the front door to the apartment. She only knocks on Cam's door as she's opening it, trying not to be too surprising.]

[She doesn't hesitate to walk across the room and sit on the edge of his bed. Her voice is steady but gentle.]

. . . Hey Cam.

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[When people started talking to him, telling him to stop, be it the loud, shouting one (who reminds him of Dalls, at least a bit) or the gruff man, or the stuttering girl, he'd tried to reply to them, somehow, he'd tried to say, I want to, please, or something along those lines, but from the moment he'd heard it, Anyone want to die? his mind just jumped back to the Greenhouse, and to the locker room, and to the skate.

Before he even started talking to the guy on the D-Terminals, he was a pale mess, walking on a frayed tightrope. Now, the D-Terminal just sits in front of him, and he thinks people are still trying to talk to him. He can't respond, he just huddles up and holds Hoot to his chest, tight as he can.

Stupid, stupid. He should've figured out how to make it private, he should've done so many things, now he's crying, and maybe people can still hear him, maybe the feed's open, so he shoves it off the bed with his foot. It's probably not on now.

Just barely, he registers his name, and from a familiar voice. He shakes and keeps his head down, his eyes shut. It's like he can hear his heart in his ears, like all the other times, and it's like his throat's closed and dry.

(It probably is.)]

[Shepard isn't surprised by the only reply she gets being crying. She'd half expected to be told to get out. She pulls herself all the way up onto the bed and scoots over to sit next to Cam, not quite touching him. The setting is so different from every other time she's done something like this, no gunshots in the background, no blood on anyone's hands, no dark tents and shaky trigger fingers, no arms to latch onto to keep a comrade from throwing their life away over a dead friend.]

[But it feels exactly the same anyways. The despair in the room is almost tangible, and Shepard takes a deep breath before she talks, feeling it fill her lungs. She's reminded, with stunning clarity, that it doesn't take gunfire to turn life into a losing battle.]

You've already done it once.

[There's no judgement in the words, but it's not a question. She remembers Xion in the beginning, what Neku had said over the network. There are a lot of people here who are supposed to be dead.]

[Somehow, just that one sentences calms his breathing, a little...but he still cries, harder now. Someone sits close to him, and this someone wants to help. Someone's said it, and he doesn't have to keep it in. All at once a chill overtakes his skin and he shivers, different that shaking, trembling, even though his head feels on fire and his palms sweat.

Yeah. He figures everyone'll know now. He's a loser who hurts himself, and more than that, a loser who killed himself. Pathetic.

Sobs shake his shoulders more than the tremors, and his teeth grit tight, but he raises his head. The room light's really bright and he hates it, and it makes him want to dig his teeth into his gums, but he doesn't, and he catches sight of a light reflecting off something on the ground.

Cam's backpack, which had slipped off the bed in his haste, lays there half open, his only remaining skate poking out. The sight of it sickens him. He looks away, toward Shepard, and he can barely stand to look at her. Shame makes his already hot face feel on fire; someone who's tried nothing but to help him, and with just a single close memory, he's ready to give up again.

But then, he never really was ready to restart.]

Y-yeah.

[A wavering voice, and he shuts his eyes tight again, letting Hoot drop from his hand and holding his head in his hands.]

[Shepard watches Cam closely, her body language way more relaxed than her mind. She follows his gaze to his backpack, and her breath catches abruptly.]

["I only have my left skate here."]

[Her stomach flips, just a little, and she takes a second to collect herself. She should have realized that something was very wrong with that, but she hadn't.]

. . . It's okay, Cam.

[She puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly.]

Sometimes.

[She takes a deep breath.]

Things seem hopeless. I've had. Days.

[She remembers mud in her boots, blood dripping down from the slash across her face, bits of her squad splashed onto her uniform, the guilt she felt as someone pinned a medal to her chest. The only one left alive.]

If my boyfriend at the time hadn't been there... I don't think I'd be here right now.

[So she'd gotten through this, Shepard had and gotten through it. His stomach twists like he's just downed a carton of milk, and he pushes the heel of his palms against his forehead, imagining he's pushing against his messed up brain.]

I t-tried. [Through his grit teeth, angry and hurt and so empty.] But I'm, I'm s'pposed to be in the NHL, 'nd everyone was counting on me. My, my team was all older, made fun of me. Every day just, I-I couldn't, I tried to be happy, I couldn't, I can't just calm down, and, I g-get so angry, I-- [It shakes, his voice, and he presses harder, harder

and his arms go lax, into his lap. He's looking down at them, flesh looking up.] I let everyone down. [The tears fall still, and his breathing is rough.] My team, my family, M-Maya. And now, I'm gonna let everyone down here too.

It was all for nothing. Lucemon gets saddled with a-- a screwed up partner, her destiny, and I-- I tried so hard, i-it, it hurt, and then I don't even g-get to--

[The words all tumble out, one after the other, and with them goes what's left of his composure. His hanging head, his limp arms, the owl in his lap.

Cam's half laying on Maya's couch, and she sits over him, holding a grey stuffed owl. "This is Hoot. When I was eight years old, I went to my first overnight camp, and I was terrified, so, my parents got me Hoot, and they said as long as he was there, I wouldn't be lonely." Black yarn eyes and Cam's brown ones meet as he holds Hoot in one hand. "And you need to get your own stuffed animal."

He laughs, he smiles, turning his attention to his girlfriend. "Oh, I dunno, can't it just be you? You're...owl-like." She laughs too, a beacon for him, and as she hits his arm lightly and tells him to shut up, he keeps on laughing, keeps on.

His phone, useless, lays on the floor beside his skate.

Early morning, in Maya's kitchen, before she or her sister are awake, he records a message on his phone. "Gooood morning, Maya Matlin! I'm sorry I had to leave, early morning hockey practice. And I didn't wanna wake you, you were drooling so cutely." He takes a breath. "So, last night was pretty much the best night, ever, um, thank you for that," he rushes over this, his voice light, and then hurries along, "And also--" and pulls Hoot up in front of his face. "I kidnapped Hoot! If you ever wanna see your owl again, meet me on the steps at lunch and we'll negotiate for his safe return, mwaaahahahahaaa!"

Giddy, he stops the recording and heads out, hurrying, in the same clothes as yesterday, nothing to change into since he spent the night on Maya's couch. He sends the message, just when he thinks she'll be waking up. He can't wait to see her face at lunch, he can't wait to see her smile.

The bandana discarded on the floor, that he wore around his neck for Spirit Week.

"Eventually, Maya's gonna see what I see."

The steps, in the morning. Zig, who Cam had called a friend, who Cam had given a black-eye in a fit of uncontrollable anger and jealousy. "What's that?"

"You're a psycho." It drains. Everything. Maya's beacon drains. Zig starts to walk away, but stops. "You know, it just sucks that Maya's gonna have to deal with it. And if you cared about her, at all, then you'd get out of her life now. Forever."

Zig leaves. And the little urging in Cam's head suddenly is all he hears.

His phone. Discarded. Useless.

Maya's text when he didn't show, and his reply.

Where are u, cheesy?

I'm not coming. Sorry. It's over.

And how much he'd hoped, later that night, in his last moments, that they'd find Hoot in the backpack loosely around his shoulder, as he lay on the Greenhouse floor.]

Edited 2013-04-16 02:34 (UTC)

[He chokes on his tears and shakes his head, still looking at Hoot.] I couldn't even do this right.

[An unexpected laugh splits his closed lips and he buries himself sideways into Shepard as the laughs turn to sobs and he bites, bites, bites on his bottom lip until he can taste blood and he hates himself even more.]

[Cam's suffering hits home, more than Shepard would like to admit. It isn't just despair, it's guilt, and she remembers the days when she'd look in the mirror and see that scar, the never-ending reminder of all the people who died when she didn't.]

[She lets him talk, leaving her hand where it is and listening. When he leans into her, though, she abandons all pretense of quiet observation and pulls him into a fierce hug, not caring about the awkward angle. Her chest feels tight, and when she exhales, it's a little bit shaky.]

You needed help, Cam, you can't fight something like that on your own, you can't, it wasn't your fault, kid. You were trying as hard as you could.

[She feels a flash of anger, because why didn't somebody notice, why didn't somebody come and get him when he was sliding into that dark place. She pulls him tighter to her, as though she could protect him from this that easily. It's never that easy.]

They let you down, Cam, they put your hockey ahead of your mental health.

[Best he can, he shakes his head, lightly.] It's, th-they tried. [With one arm (because he's not letting go of that owl), he clings to Shepard, and he speaks best he can, his heartbeat starting to slow, somehow.] Wouldn't talk to 'em, M-Maya tried, but I just, told her I was...fine.

Principal was gonna send me to a...counselor. [He squeezes his eyes shut and lets the tears fall from them.] B-but I...

[Another sick feeling in his stomach.]

What if nothing can fix it? I'm, just not right.

[Like he told Maya, like his head's not screwed on right, before he decided to break his arm, to keep from playing. What's he even fighting? Something other people fight? It's not just him?]

[He's listening, at least. She rubs his back with one hand, because two would have required letting go for long enough to adjust them.]

Well. I'm no counselor, but.

I'm pretty damn sure you're depressed. I'd bet my pension on it.

[She pauses, remembering when she'd been a teenager, before she learned that army psychologists don't use the word 'depression' lightly.]

And I mean clinical depression. As in, brain chemistry. No matter how hard you tried, nothing fixed it, right? It's because you weren't just sad, Cam. Your body wouldn't let you be happy.

[He takes that in. He digests it and it's like all at once, he's drowning in cotton and can see the light. On the one hand, it was impossible. All he did, really it had no point. But on the other. On the other, maybe it did.

His lip's still bleeding. He licks up some of it and blinks tight when he realizes a fresh wave of tears is coming.]

So what can I do?

[Shepard is ignoring the blood, for now. She can get him tissues or something once he's feeling a little better. A breakdown is more pressing than a split lip ever will be.]

Find somebody who can treat it. There are pills, and from my own experience, talking it out helps too.

[She sighs softly, wondering to herself if they're going to be able to find a psychiatrist in this damn place. Cross species medication is half impossible. But she doesn't intend to stay here forever. Screw the world-fuckery, there's got to be some way to get Cam professional help, even if she has to tear her way into another world to get to it. She's never been one to let the word 'impossible' stand in her way.]

And until we figure something out... You aren't alone. I've got your back.

[Finally, at last, he sighs, slow and quiet. His grip on Hoot lets up, and he pulls his other arm free, rub his temples and wipe at his eyes. At the very least, he has this.

He mumbles:]

I made a fool out of myself. No one's gonna wanna talk to the...suicidal nutcase who breaks down on the feed. [The more he realizes he's afraid of that -- being alone -- the more he regrets it, what he did in the first place.]

And what those guys said... [That's weighing on him too; what an awful partner he's going to be.]

[Shepard makes a disbelieving noise and shakes her head.]

I know that's not true, Cam. I'd like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I don't think any less of you for it. Monodramon was scared for you, and he's a judgmental asshole.

[She chuckles, just the tiniest bit.]

He tried to get me to bring you ice cream so you'd feel better. Don't tell him I told you that, though.

[She shakes her head.]

And depression is silent, Cam. You're probably not even the only person here who struggles with it. You'd never guess it, most of the time. You aren't a nutcase.

[She pauses on the last comment though.]

. . . Who said what?

[Shepard is going to be pissed if someone said something awful to him.]

[Cam winces, just a little.] Probably good you didn't bring any. Lactose problems. Kinda just...eat ice cream when I'm sad. [He figures, since he's sharing.

And well, jeez. Though not wanting to leave his spot on the bed, he stretches forward just a little, to see his D-Terminal sprawled on the floor.] I...didn't know 'em. Didn't say anything I don't know, though. That... Lucemon was born for me, she's my partner. I think the first guy was trying to help but I was already, uh. [Fidget.] I get...nervous.

I can't...remember a lot of what the other said, I think I was too... [He doesn't really have the word for it.] But he... I'm supposed to make a difference, or...something.

[More pressure. Just how's he even going to do this Chosen thing?]

Lactose intolerant, got it. Maybe we can find those fruit popsicles from the fair somewhere...

[But that's not the point. Shepard only just now realizes that if Monodramon saw the broadcast, then other people probably did too. The stab of anger comes up in her stomach a second time.]

Okay. I'm going to say this bluntly. Fuck all of that. You're what, 15? And you're not feeling well. Nobody should be asking you to make a difference in anything. It doesn't matter how Lucemon is related to you, or what some alien children tell you about fate, getting better should be your first priority. You're human, Cam. You have the right to make mistakes and deal with your problems and not be okay when you're not okay, and nobody should ever tell you otherwise.

[Shepard's starting to remind him a little bit of his mother, honestly, so he fights back an embarrassed smile. ...He's never going to tell her that, of course.

He lets this wash over him, but he's still... He doesn't know. He does not bite his nails, he fights against that nervous habit.]

I...

[The door squeaks. Lucemon pokes out from behind it, into the room.] I'm sorry, Campbell, I...heard, and didn't want to interrupt. [She floats over, slow, tentative.] You're the best partner. Partner means we take care of each other, so...you just have to make a difference for you.

[He's blown away, to say it lightly. He was sure, if Lucemon ever found out, he'd alienate her too.]

Edited 2013-04-16 04:02 (UTC)

[Shepard has her mouth open to say something else when Lucemon comes into the room, and she stops short. There's a moment when she's angry, not wanting Lucemon to come in and try to contradict her.]

[Only she doesn't. The digimon agrees with her, and Shepard finds herself smiling, bright and happy.]

. . . You're alright, Lucemon, you know that?

[She turns back to Cam.]

It's okay to do what's right for you, Cam. People who care about you will get it.

Of course I am. [But it lacks arrogance and ego, rather instead being simple and matter-of-fact.

Cam looks from Lucemon to Shepard, and he feels his eyes pricking again, but not from overwhelming despair, as it's usually been, but something else. It's not happiness, no. But maybe it's relief.

He looks down at Hoot, in his cupped hands.]]

...I wanna find a way back home. If it'll...let me. I wanna... do it right. Or, at least...try.

[And back up, blinking again.] I should...make sure everyone knows I'm not having a mental breakdown. ...anymore.

[It isn't until this point that Shepard feels a little bit like crying. Cam's out of the woods, for now, and thank god for that. It's a little bit like coming down from an adrenalin high.]

We'll get you there. I don't mean to brag, but I've done the impossible before.

[Shepard smiles.]

After that, take it easy for a while, okay? Want me to get you something to eat? I used to eat whole pizzas when I wasn't feeling so hot.

[And you know? ...Cam feels hungry. Really hungry.]

Mmm... Pizza. Pizza sounds great.

[He...stands. A little wobbly (a little dehydrated, a little out of breath), but not so bad. He picks up his D-Terminal, and he looks at the skate on the floor...

and moves it to the closet, shutting it in.

Baby steps, right?]

[Shepard nods.]

You going to be okay here with Lucemon while I go to the pizza place? What toppings?

[Shepard is startled by the shock of pride she experiences when Cam puts the skate away. She's reminded of how she felt when Grunt got got accepted to Wrex's clan. Damn, she really is starting to get aggressively maternal.]

[A tiny smile.] I'll be good. Uh... pepperoni. And cheese. ...Please.

Don't worry, Miss Shepard. I'll watch over him close. Promise.

[He doesn't even mind the side-ways hug this time.]

You got it.

[She nudges his shoulder affectionately and smiles, before turning to Lucemon.]

I leave him in your capable hands, then. I'll be back soon.

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TW: suicidal ideation, depression

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