Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Darkest Nights	By : Bucken-Berry Category: G through L > Law & Order Views: 1449 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own SVU or it's characters and I'm not making money from this.

Chapter List
- 50
- 51
- 52
George prepared himself for several minutes, wishing he didn't have to talk at all. Not having to say the specifics was better than having to go into detail, but he'd rather not have to say anything at all.
He sighed despondently and began his explanation. "They would rape me and torture me… They'd make me tell them that I deserve it, and once I said that, they would hurt me more, and if I begged them to stop, they'd either place a hand on my throat or place a knife against my jugular… They'd tell me not to fight back again. I only did that once or twice before I learned not to."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, rubbing his chest. "If I didn't beg them to stop, they would keep making me say I deserve it, and then they'd make me list a reason. Sometimes I could say something that satisfied them- arrogance, stupidity, past failures, the way I was acting while they were hurting me, the fact that they'd killed their other victims because they wanted me- I didn't know they wanted revenge against me, personally, until I was in the hospital, so it was illogical for me to blame myself for that, but again, I couldn't be rational there- and they wore me down, and it just gradually clicked into place. The first time they did it, I started considering the possibility that it was my fault and I deserved it, and then it just started making more and more sense. I fought it, and I had times when I didn't believe it, even right before they let me go, but ever since I've been back it's been hard to convince myself otherwise," he said.
"And when they left you for dead on the side of the road, what were you thinking?" Rebecca prodded.
"I was too disoriented to actually think- I just reacted. They put a cloth over my face and drugged me. I passed out and woke up on the side of a road. I was disoriented from the septic shock, so I walked over to the road, despite the fact that I hadn't been allowed to move in a long time. A stranger found me and covered me with a blanket. The only thing I could think of, though, was that I wanted to see Elliot," George said.
He gave a sad smile and continued, "In the hospital, days later, I woke up in a lot of pain, and I felt like I was burning alive because my fever was so high. And Elliot was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and he was running a cold towel on my forehead. He had to get my statement right away, but after that, he comforted me… He was there for me from the start. I-I almost became convinced that I didn't deserve what happened to me, and that I deserved him, because he showed me so much love and affection. He's the closest anyone's come to convincing me that my attackers were wrong. But even with his support, the thoughts persisted, and became worse when I had to talk to Keyes to get him to turn the others in."
George shuddered. "I hated talking to Keyes, but it was worth it; I couldn't let him take another victim, and chances are that he would have gone after me again, too. But still, what he said to me just brought everything back. Even then… I might have been convinced otherwise, if it wasn't for that flashback. But I just- it convinced me again. I'm trying so hard to stop thinking that way, I really am. I don't want to think that I deserved to be tortured and raped," he said desperately.
"Of course you don't. I know that you don't want to think that way," Rebecca said reassuringly.
"It's just so hard. I want to stop thinking this way, but I can't stop." George paused for a minute. "I don't feel up to saying any more today," he admitted.
"That's fine; we'll talk more in depth next time," Rebecca said, deciding to let George stop and move on. "How would you assess your current mental state?"
"I agree with everything you've implied thus far, in terms of my symptoms," George said cautiously. He sighed and tugged at the sleeve on his sweater. "I've been using sleep as an escape even though I haven't slept without a nightmare in a long time- I haven't felt refreshed after sleeping for a long time, either- because the nightmares are better than the flashbacks and panic attacks. At least I can wake up from the nightmares, but when I remember what happened, it's like a nightmare I can't wake up from at all. I'm panicked when I have a nightmare, but they're easier to shake off than flashbacks. And there're other symptoms, too. I don't really feel happiness or pleasure anymore, I only get out of bed each day because Elliot makes me, and I have no appetite at all… You're right about all that." Despite the overwhelming depression George felt, his tone was flat and expressionless; he was trying to suppress his emotions. He didn't want to feel them after making himself so vulnerable.
Despite George's hope that she would forget to, Rebecca asked the question he had been dreading. "Have you had any suicidal ideation?"
George knew he had to do this just right- he couldn't sound too close to the truth, but he couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed his mind at all; it would sound suspicious. He knew being put on a 5150 hold would be best for him, but he didn't want it. He hated the guilt he felt for lying to Elliot and Rebecca, but he had to. Not every patient with suicidal ideation ended up being committed, but in his case, it was almost certain that he would be. He couldn't tell the truth, or he'd lose his chance to end it.
"No," he said simply. To make it more convincing, he added, "I'm not saying I haven't thought about it, or that I haven't felt like I want to die- I have, when I was in the hospital, and more recently, when I started to feel it again after the terrible flashback I had- but I don't have a plan, and I wouldn't bring about my own death. I have felt like I want to die, but I'm not in any danger of carrying out a plan."
Rebecca scrutinized him carefully, and he worried that she might see through his lie. She was a mental health professional just like he was; both of them were trained to know what the signs were, even if the patient denied it. As much as he hated being a patient, that was what he was, and although he had been able to mask his emotions before, he had lost the skill sometime during the month of constant fear and pain he'd endured. He wasn't as inscrutable as he used to be.
Rebecca must have seen what she was looking for, because finally, she nodded and said, "You will tell Elliot or me if you get past your breaking point and you begin to formulate a plan, though?"
George nodded. "Of course." He wondered how Rebecca would feel when she found out about him killing himself- it was possible that she would find out only a few hours after the session. He hoped he wouldn't cause her any guilt.
"If you were your own patient, what treatment you recommend for yourself?" Rebecca continued.
"I don't know. I can't be my own psychiatrist, any more than you could be your own psychiatrist. I know what I've been feeling, and I have suspicions about the possible causes, but I can't diagnose myself. It's so much easier to analyze someone else than it is to analyze myself. I know I have PTSD and some form of depression, but I'm not impartial enough to distinguish what that form is. And I certainly can't recommend therapies and things for myself, either," George said.
"What would you recommend for someone else in your situation, then?" Rebecca asked.
"Frequent psychotherapy sessions, I suppose," George replied. He didn't want to say anything about medication; Keyes's words still echoed in his ears, the words about how George would probably need to be medicated. Keyes had been right about everything- George hating Keyes but hating himself more, wanting to die, him being with Elliot, and more. He didn't want to prove Keyes right about this, too.
"What about the other standard treatments?" Rebecca asked pointedly.
"It depends on the case," George said evasively.
"Do you think you would benefit from medication?" Rebecca pressed.
"I don't think… Not really, no," George said with a frown.
"Even though psychotherapy alone doesn't seem to be doing you any good?" Rebecca pressed. "You still don't think medication is appropriate for you?"
"If you're going to prescribe me something, I'm not going to fight with you about it. I'm a psychiatrist myself; I'm obviously not opposed to medication. So could you just tell me what your intentions are?" George requested tiredly. As much as he hoped not to be put on medication, he also wanted to leave the small room as soon as possible. His agitation and anxiety were almost overwhelming.
"Just a few more questions," Rebecca assured him. "How long have you been feeling depressed? I think I can assume that your anxiety-related symptoms have been ongoing."
"Yes you can, and as for the depression… that's more complicated. I felt it at first, mostly because I was still in physical pain, but then the depression mostly faded to the anxiety. It was still there, but not as prominent. It's been awful ever since the trial started, though. That's how a lot of things are- they had been getting better, but now they're worse than ever. Like my feelings that I deserve what happened, and my inability to feel safe around anyone, especially men, and… and my feelings that dying would be easier than trying to get through this," George said. He set his hand over his pants pocket for a minute.
Rebecca nodded and started writing in George's file while she spoke to him. "My official diagnosis for you is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and severe clinical depression. I'm going to write a prescription for some SSRI antidepressants, and some sleep medicine. I may add some off-label medications, like a beta-blocker, if the PTSD doesn't improve soon. Finally, I'd also like to increase the frequency of our sessions so that you have at least two a week, possibly three if you don't improve."
George nodded and stood, silently accepting her decision. He wished medication wasn't necessary, but it had been inevitable, like everything Keyes had said. Keyes had said he'd break George down, and he had been right. Keyes had said George would do more to himself mentally- as much, if not more, than Keyes himself had done- by blaming himself, and he had been right about that, too. Then Keyes had said he'd need medication… and he was right. Again. Keyes understood him better than he had ever understood his patients, George thought bitterly.
George walked back into the waiting room with a weary, resigned sigh. The concerned look he saw on Elliot's face was almost more than he could handle- he didn't want to cause Elliot more worry. Elliot was stressing himself over him too much already.
"What's wrong?" Elliot asked as he saw the look on George's face. "Are you okay?" He gently wrapped his arms around George.
"I'm okay, I guess. Just worn out," George replied tiredly. It was the truth, except for the omission of his suicidal thoughts. "I've been sleeping so much lately, but I still feel so tired… I just want to sleep."
"Well, you can regroup when we get home," Elliot said quietly. "I know you've had a rough time, but if you can just hang in there for a little while longer, the trial will be over, and that will take a lot of stress away. Even with the break, it's still on your mind and stressing you out, which I think is making the flashbacks, panic attacks, and nightmares worse. You'll feel at least a little better once you see those bastards being sentenced to life in prison."
George nodded and thought, "If I wasn't going to be dead by then, that is." But what he said was, "I suppose so."
"What did Rebecca say in the session?" Elliot asked, pressing a soft kiss to the top of George's head.
"It was basically a mental status exam. Seeing how I'm coping with everything, making sure I have no suicidal ideation. I'm also being put on medication, which should help. Hopefully," George sighed.
Elliot made a disproving noise; George knew he was opposed to psychiatric medication in all but the most extreme circumstances. "Why's she putting you on medication?"
"Because she thinks it'll help," George said with a hint of sadness. "And what was your session like? You said it was pretty exhausting."
Elliot sighed. "It was very exhausting. I told her about my anger and fear and everything. And I said how worried about you I've felt lately." He decided not to mention the fact that he felt responsible for George's situation, not wanting to increase George's guilt.
Elliot squeezed George's shoulder reassuringly, and George nodded, returning the embrace.
Elliot held him for a moment before George stood, pulling Elliot with him. "Let's get out of here, El," he murmured.
- 50
- 51
- 52
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Darkest Nights