Chance stepped off the lift in a strange mood of mixed emotions.  He’d just helped put Cassie down for a nap.  She didn’t put up as much of a fuss as she had the last few days, but he didn’t mind at all.  He was basking in the glow of his baby daughter, and getting just an inkling of how his father must be handling 2 in their teens.  He suspected he’d become very protective of her when she got old enough to notice boys.

 

It was his protectiveness that brought his feet to the Counselor’s door today, actually, and the actions he’d taken before they were stranded in order to protect her, and her mother.  Thing was, his father had been right.  Killing another person, even someone who disgusted him as much as James had, was taking a toll on him.  As was his near brush with death shortly after.   He heard the door chime on the other side and anxiously waited to be admitted.

 

The door slid open, revealing Statzia and Millie sitting together on one of the sofas in the counselor’s office. Statzia gave a nod, setting down her teacup and giving the Counselor’s leg a pat. “I’ll keep you posted.” She picked up the cane, leaning on it to stand as she turned towards the door. “She’s all yours, Doc.” 

 

Chance stood to the side to let the Commander out.  “How’s the leg doing now?”

 

Statzia gave a wry smirk. “Counselor seems to think that I’m getting in my own head over it.” She shot a glance over her shoulder. “She’s probably right. She usually is.”

 

Chance chuckled, looking between the two.  “Even so, let me know if I can do anything.”  He nodded as she exited the room

 

Millie stood, gathering up the tea cups. “Come on in, Chance. Can I make you a cup? Mine has gone cold.”

 

“Sure,” he responded, making his way to a plush chair.  “Thank you for seeing me.”

 

“I’m glad you stopped by.” Millie stepped to the counter, refreshing her cup of tea and pouring a cup for Chance. “How have you been doing?”

 

He stayed sitting forward, elbows on his knees.  “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping since we’ve been back,” he answered, getting right into it.

 

Millie placed the two cups on a small tray alongside her usual tea add-ins. “Is the baby not sleeping through the night?”

 

“Heh, not all the time, but she’s not what’s keeping me up.”  He paused.  “Actually, getting her back to sleep is what helps me sleep, even if it’s only a few hours.”

 

Millie sat in the adjacent chair, placing the tray of tea on the small table. “We’ve been through a lot the past few months. I think you know better than most how these sorts of stressors can have an impact on the body.” She passed him a cup of tea. “Is it trouble falling asleep? Or staying asleep?”

 

“Usually, staying asleep.  I’ve been having dreams that wake me up.  They’re vivid, and they stay with me.”   He took a deep breath.

 

Millie nodded, settling her own tea cup into her lap. “What happens in your dreams?”

 

Chance looked at his cup of tea cradled in the palms of his hands.  It took him almost a minute of silence to decide what he was going to say.  “I don’t feel like I can describe the specifics, but it’s safe to say they’re violent.”

 

“This is a safe place to talk about it, Chance. There is no judgment here.”

 

He had a feeling she’d say that.  He’d told Trisha what he’d done because she deserved to know, but he didn’t want to spread it around.  As relieved as he was that James would never threaten them again, it wasn’t something he wanted to brag about.  He also, despite her assurance that he could be honest, worried that if she were ever questioned, she’d be obligated to say what she knew.  If he could keep from giving the specifics, she wouldn’t have to make the choice of lying or not.  “I know.  It’s just hard for me to say it out loud right now.”  He hoped that would work.

 

Millie gave a nod. “Have you had any other problems getting settled back into your routine since we’ve been back? Any flashbacks, or memories recurring when you’re awake?”

 

“Not really, but I’ve found myself on edge at times, like I’m expecting something to catch me from behind.”  He took a drink of his tea.

 

“Hypervigilance is not unexpected after major traumatic events. The time that we spent on the surface of the planet took its toll on everyone.” Her smile was gentle and reassuring. “You are certainly not the first to come talk to me about struggling to settle back into the routine of ship life. You’re not alone in this.”

 

Chance nodded, making an effort to lighten his mood.  “Is there anything I can do about my dreams?  I know it takes time to work through trauma, but is there a good way to at least get more sleep?”

 

“I know you probably still want to be alert enough to help with the baby, but a cortical inhibitor might be a short-term fix. You could set it on a shorter timer if you feel like you need to check on Cassie or do one of her night feedings.” Millie set her cup down. “But, ultimately, being able to talk through your experiences often does the work of easing up on the vivid dreaming.”

 

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he tried to grin before turning serious again.  “Other than Trisha’s labor with no modern medical equipment, the last few days down there were the most stressful.  We’d lost a few people, others were close to it, including Statzia,”  he pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the door where they’d just seen her.  “And then I found out Cassie was sick…had been sick.  I sometimes have to try not to think about what could have happened if we weren’t rescued when we were.”

 

Millie nodded. “This time you were on the receiving end of the rescue. I seem to remember you being the rescue party the last time we were marooned.”

 

One side of his mouth turned up before he sat up and turned toward her.  “Did that incident prepare you for this time?  You seemed pretty collected most of the time we were down there.”  After another thought he continued, “Or is that just what you show us to keep us at ease?”

 

Millie gave a soft sigh. “Right out of the Academy, I served as a crisis counselor, so I understand the importance of being the one with the level head when emotions are high. But, at the root of it all, I experience the same emotions as the rest of the crew. Even your counselor has a counselor to talk to sometimes. I’ve had disruptive dreams since our return, too.”

 

“Ah,” he acknowledged.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”  He put his cup to the side.

 

Millie looked at Chance. Like all of the Crows, he tended to keep his emotions tucked in close. “In my dream, I can’t find Lana. I’m standing in the middle of a field, and I’m panicking. I’m trying to scream, but it feels like I’ve been screaming for so long that I can’t make a sound or catch my breath. I’m trying to run to find her, but my body feels like it’s held in molasses.” Her gloved fingers ran along the hem of her uniform. “When I’m awake, I know she’s safe in her room. But asleep–I can’t tell if the screaming I hear is her, or me.” She looked back up at Chance. “The things we see in our dreams aren’t always logical. Sometimes they’re the manifestation of the feelings we’re experiencing.”

 

He was silent, trying to determine what he could safely say.  He could tell that her speech was a gentle reminder that he needed to give her something to work with.  And that was only fair.  He couldn’t expect help in a one-sided conversation.  “In my dream,” he started darkly, “it’s Trisha, or one of the kids.  They’re…going about like normal, but somehow I know something awful is coming.  And yet, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.  I keep trying but they can’t hear me or see me.  Until…” he took a deep breath, “it all plays out.  I wake up feeling like it was real, and I can’t shake it to get back to sleep.”

 

Millie’s brow furrowed. “In your dreams, what is the danger that is manifesting?”

 

He thought it through for a few moments.  “The threat is different each time, and isn’t always clear but…it threatens their lives.”  He took a deep breath trying to keep his emotions in check.

 

Millie saw the waiver in his fortitude. “It’s okay to let the feelings go in here, Chance. We’ve been through something traumatic. As command staff, we need a safe place to let the feelings and stress out–and as parents, we need a safe place to express those concerns and fears while we put on a brave face for the children.”

 

The doctor let out a staggered breath.  Truth be told, his actions before The Stranding were not only what weighed on his heart, or gave him nightmares.  But the effects of all of it felt like they were starting to stack on each other.  He did need to get some of it out.  “Everything we did to get Cassie, and we almost…” he shook his head.  “She had a fever and hadn’t been eating, and she never told me!” he blurted out, the last part referring to Trisha.  “Kieran was the one who came to get me on that last day, just moments before the others got there.  And my dreams sometimes play back what could have been.”

 

Millie reached out, placing a gloved hand on Chance’s arm. She waited, giving him the space to let out his emotions.

 

He leaned forward, brow planted against the edge of his hand, index finger to thumb.  After a few quiet moments, his shoulders began to shake.  He sobbed, unable to get a vision of her tiny, frail body out of his head, or what the blowout afterwards might have looked like.

 

She sat with him, letting him cry. She didn’t speak, but let his grief and his fear exist. She knew that, sometimes, crew members who were responsible for others had to hold the rest of the team together, and as one of the medical crew, Chance had carried that burden through the weeks that they’d spent on the surface, not only with the illness that swept through their camp, but with the birth and illness of his daughter. As she sensed his tears and sobs subsiding, she extended the box of tissues.

 

As Chance wound down, he saw her offer, and took a tissue from her.  He exhaled one last time, as if to expel all he had pent up.  “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling like it was rude not to apologize, even though he was sure she’d say something about it being okay to let off as he had.

 

“I think this office is the most acceptable place for someone to have a good cry, Chance. There’s no need to apologize.” She extended the offering of another tissue. “Since our return, there have been a lot of our peers who have battled with what we experienced down on the planet. We lost crew members, and nearly lost many others. You and the rest of the medical team had to carry a significant burden in those last few weeks, especially, and that also takes a toll on you.”

 

He nodded at her explanation.  It made sense for a lot of what he was feeling.  “So is it just something to make my way through, or do I need to do something to get on the other side?”  He just wanted to be back to normal:  no nightmares, no nervous ticks, no freaking out at any little surprise.

 

“It takes time to get back to a sense of normalcy, and to retrain our bodies out of that place of being on edge. There are a lot of crew members struggling to feel settled again.” Millie’s smile was gentle. “Start with keeping to a routine– as much as you can with being a dad to a newborn. Try to stick to a predictable bedtime. Make sure you’re keeping hydrated and eating on a regular schedule. Talking to people helps, too. If you’d like, we can start meeting on a regular schedule.”

 

He nodded, unsure even as he did so if it was a good idea.  He had a sneaking suspicion, though, that it wasn’t really a question.  Still, either the conversation or the release of emotions–or both–seemed to have had a positive effect.  It had taken some of the edginess he had been feeling away. “How often?” he asked.

 

“Once or twice a week, whichever you think would be needed.” She gave a gentle nod. “As your sleeping stabilizes, we can space them out a bit more. But if this is impacting your sleep, more is better to start. We could also look at a medical intervention to help ease your body into a longer sleep routine, and we could coordinate with your wife on what you might need for whatever overnight arrangements you two have with the new baby.”

 

After a minute of consideration, he nodded.  It wasn’t unreasonable, and he was sure Trisha would help out however she could.  “Just something that slows the thoughts down, maybe.  If I could get past the ‘what if’s playing out in my head, I think I could get to sleep.”

 

Millie smiled, thinking of Statzia. “We have other crew members who use a cortical inhibitor to help with nightmares. We could program it with a short-term timer that would get you to sleep, and then shut off after a few hours. It can be a temporary solution while we get you settled into counseling sessions.”

 

“That sounds like a good plan,” he responded, a smile spreading across his face for the first time since he’d sat down. His posture also showed him relaxing.  “I’m already looking forward to more sleep tonight.”

 

Millie nodded, noting the change in his body language. “I’ll send a referral down to Sickbay, and I’d like to request a general health scan as well, just to make sure you’re not facing any lingering vitamin deficiencies or effects from our time on the planet.” She placed one of her hands on his. “You’re not alone in this, Chance.”

 

He nodded with a sincere smile.  “Thank you.  At times I feel like I’m prepared for anything else that could be thrown at us.  But then we’re sideswiped by something unexpected, and I don’t know what to do next. This,” he said, referring to their chat, “has really helped.”

 

“Good.” Millie stood, crossing to her desk and picking up her scheduling PADD. “I have this same time available in three days. I can send a request down to Sickbay for the inhibitor, and let’s meet again then to see how you’re feeling. Would that time work for you?”

 

He nodded in the affirmative.  “Sounds great.  Thank you.”  He smiled and stood, grateful to have a plan in place.  Hopefully, a few weeks, and he would be getting back to normal.  As he walked out, he acknowledged that day couldn’t come soon enough.