Chapter Text
Desmond prided himself on his professionalism in these cases. When faced with the worst parts of the people you know, or don’t know, or love, or hate, keeping a level head was a priority.
After Mayer and the CIB were exposed for drugging citizens, experimenting on people (especially soldiers, enemy or otherwise), and attempting to kill several people (including but certainly not limited to Rosemary, Allen, and Lucas) in order to keep everything under wraps and further their research, among many other things, there was public outrage. People dug into the records and recordings released by Rosemary and Lucas, reporters made sure that every single crime, suspicion, and charge were publicized. There was even a riot at some point, if his memory served him right.
And with the knowledge, came the doubts. How long would the drinking water be unsafe? How much of the medicine was tainted? Who knew what? Who was who?
And with the doubts, came the need for reassurance. That they weren’t crazy, that they didn’t have to worry about the government drugging them in a large scale chemical weapon testing scheme anymore. Desmond could understand these worries all too well. His paranoia had driven people away, affected his patients without him or them realizing. It had affected his decision making, and driven him damn near mad. And in the end, it had put a target on his back.
Although, he couldn’t really be upset about that part. It had given him the ability to help free his patients from their Shadows and, in turn, had allowed Lucas to find out so much more about Mayer and the CIB’s operations. Enough to blow the lid on them, when combined with what he had already gathered. Desmond was able to help people affected by agent rainbow, who were losing the fight with their own Shadows.
He was able to go into the Collective Unconscious, find their tapes, enter their Personal Conscious, and defeat their Shadows. All whilst they were none the wiser. It was an ongoing fight for a couple years, while the water was still contaminated with the chemical agent and peoples minds were still at their worst. It was hell on everyone involved, including Desmond. Rosemary wasn’t lying when she said the Collective could drive people crazy. He would say that he was doing well, all things considered, but the others still checked on him whenever they got the chance, which he appreciated greatly.
Recently, there had been less and less cases of townsfolk going catatonic, losing to their Shadows. As the drug was cycled out of the water, and prescription drugs were thoroughly tested and cleared or replaced, minds eased and panic lessened. Slowly but surely, the people healed. Compensation was handed out for the victims, corrupt government and business officials were put behind bars (a couple perpetrators were put on death row, from what he could recall), and cold cases were reopened with the new intel.
Some of the victims, he had been close to. Virginia had been critically injured after a drug-induced breakdown, Allen had suffered severe burns that left him with horrible chronic pain. Max had isolated himself for fear of hurting his loved ones after being exposed to the chemical, and Lucas had lost everything after being used as a test subject years and years ago. They had been his patients, and they had been on their way to recovery when Mayer came into play.
Now, they were his friends. Exposing the government after they destroyed all your lives can do that to people. Bring them together. Besides, he had quite literally been inside their heads. It’d be weird not to be close after that. And he was only able to free them from their Shadows, because they were his patients. Because he knew them inside out even before falling into a coma and finding himself in the CU, as they dubbed it, with literal doorways to their lives and memories.
And so, with the knowledge of how the CU worked, more or less, and how agent rainbow affected people, and with all his memories intact, Desmond reopened his office, and took in whoever needed a listening ear, or advice, or just reassurance. And if someone was reported to have gone catatonic, Desmond would dive into the Collective, go through their tapes, and put their Shadows to rest. And it worked, it worked well.
It worked because he kept a level head. No matter what he saw, what he went through within the Personal Conscious, he stayed professional and didn’t let his fear and emotions cloud his judgment. He went in, figured out what he needed to do, and took down the Shadow. No matter how hard his own Shadow tried to break him down, he focused on his goal and completed it. He could have his own moment of vulnerability afterwards, in the real world.
And eventually, he didn’t need to do any of that anymore. People could heal on their own, without agent rainbow clouding their heads. He could try to live a more normal life, they all could. Or, well, as normal as they could, after what they all went through.
And through it all, he stayed sane. He made sure that his own demons wouldn’t get to him, with the help of his new allies and friends. Tonia was a great help as well, whenever he had to re-enter hell. Her voice in the back of his mind was a great comfort, however rare her voice was to hear. Her words lingered, and he repeated them to himself often.
But… this? This was testing his ability to stay calm in the face of these situations. He was this close to losing it.
“I don’t understand what the problem is. That is my husband! I know him better than either of you.” Mrs. McLeary had clearly reached the end of her rope. She crossed her arms and sent a look over to Lucas, daring him to argue with her, that had Desmond wincing. He didn’t looked at his partner, but he knew he was wearing a similar expression.
Patience and grace, Desmond.
“Listen, Mrs. McLeary. I know this is stressful, and scary, but this is-“ Desmond held up his hands to placate the pissed off Scot as she jabbed a finger at his chest.
“Don’t give me that "this is a delicate situation" bullshit!” She almost-shouted. Out of the corner of his eye, Desmond saw Mr. Chamberlain nudge the kitchen curtains a little more closed. “I don’t care! How could it be any more dangerous than what happened at the quarry?”
Ah yes, the Addair incident a few months ago. The one that nearly killed or broke them all. He didn’t like to think about what would’ve happened if they had succumbed to the thing. At least he could understand how they got the parasite and the chemical agent mixed up. The similarities were undeniable. Seeing it for himself, though, had been… terrifying. And he knew that experiencing it again was horrible on Caz’s mind.
And it was clearly much worse than he thought. Desmond glanced over to Caz, who was sitting in a chair, Mr. Chamberlain holding his hands to keep him still. His glance was met by the man’s dead-eyed stare, and he quickly looked back to the man’s wife, who was still on the verge of breaking something. Probably Desmond’s nose.
Patience… and grace…
“The Collective is unpredictable, especially since I haven’t been in it for a long time,” he had to fight to keep his voice level. They were losing time. Who knows how unstable Caz’s mind was by now? “There’s no point in risking your life when-“
He was interrupted yet again. “No point? No point?! I am not going to sit here while Cameron is stuck in his own head, suffering!” Lucas must have tried to speak up, because she rounded on him next. “Don’t even try it! I’ve made up my damn mind. I am coming with.”
It appeared that the wise words of his deceased cat could not help him here.
He knew that he couldn’t change her mind. But he still had to try, even with his resolve slowly crumbling. “Mrs. McLeary, I don’t think you understand just how serious this situation is. Going into the Collective and another person’s Conscious means risking losing your own mind, maybe even dying in the real world. I know that this is your husband we’re talking about, but would he want you to-“
“Just! Shut up!” She threw her hands up, walking away to pace the room as she mumbled to herself. Desmond couldn’t hear what she was saying, but when she passed by Lucas, the veteran cringed and inched away from her, so it couldn’t have been anything pleasant.
Finally, after a couple minutes of walking the length of the apartment back and forth, she turned back to Desmond and Lucas, who had spent the time setting up the compact heart monitor and IV stand. As Desmond hooked a fluid bag full of the psychoactive drug (it was different from the strain he was dosed with of course, but it was just enough to keep him in the CU until it was flushed from his system), she stepped up to him and huffed out a sigh.
“I know that it’s dangerous. I know that it puts me at risk. I know that he wouldn’t want me to be in danger, and I know that I’ll be a liability in there,” Desmond went to say something, but the look she gave him shut him up again. “But I also know that… I can’t just sit by. I’ve known him since we were young, I’ve been by his side for years. I know my husband. I can help.”
Desmond let out a long sigh, removing his glasses for a moment to rub at his aching eyes. When he put them back on, he could see the earnestness and determination on her face. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Ma’am, with all due respect-“ Desmond raised a hand to cut Lucas off. After a long moment, the man returned to checking the dosages. The last thing any of them wanted was an overdose, much less on the chemical.
“Okay. Alright, fine.” She grinned triumphantly, and he gestured for her to stay quiet. “But you are going to have to listen to me. Do what I say, when I say it. I make the calls. I don’t know what we’ll see in there, but you cannot let it get to you. You need to stay with me.”
“Suze, are you sure this is a good idea?” Oh, now her boyfriend decides to try and talk her out of it, once Desmond had already agreed. “He does have a point - we both know that if something bad happens in there…”
“I’m sure, Billy.” Mrs. McLeary nodded sharply, jittery from anticipation. Lucas waved her over and she sat in front of him to let him write down her heart rate and breathing. Once he was done, she went to sit beside Mr. Chamberlain and Caz, taking one of her husbands hands in her own. Caz gave no indication that he felt the touch. Desmond took her seat, and Lucas started repeating the process, this time on him.
“Are you sure about this?” The veteran asked quietly, glancing over to the lovers sitting at the table, having their own whispered conversation. “I know it’s stressful enough without someone else to look after.”
A few months after Desmond started seeing patients again, he let Lucas join him on one of his mental deep dives, with Rosemary watching over them to make sure nothing went wrong in the real world. It wasn’t a good time, to say the least. He knew Lucas still had nightmares about it. It had brought up memories of the man’s experience with agent rainbow back in the war. Watching his fellow soldiers, his friends, be taken over by their own Shadows, killing each other during the following breakdowns, had scarred the man, and being back under the drug’s influence…
But, Mrs. McLeary was a strong woman. That’s not to say that Lucas was weak, of course, but she had looked the monster that was Caz’s former colleague in the face, and told it to fuck right off. She had seen the physical form of a Shadow, foul and sadistic and wrong in every conceivable way, and refused to let it get to her head. She was horribly affected by the incident, of course. All of them were. No one could witness something like that and not have some sort of trauma. But she stayed standing, despite the pressures and the fear.
If anyone could go through the Collective and come out with their sanity and will to live intact, it would be one Susan McLeary.
“Yes.” Desmond twisted his wrist in order to take Lucas’ hand and give it a squeeze. “I know she’ll be alright. We both will.”
He knew Lucas hated when Desmond went back into the CU. He hated how the things he saw and felt kept him up at night. He hated watching his maybe-possibly-boyfriend fuck up his head trying to help other people get free of theirs. But it was a necessary evil. For the greater good, and all that.
And so, even though Desmond could tell that the veteran wanted nothing more than to call it off, reverse all the damage done and let them both live like normal people, Lucas just sighed and squeezed his hand back, before finishing up with his documenting and retrieving another fluid bag and IV tube from the bag at his feet.
Desmond grabbed the first aid kit from the coffee table and let himself fall back against the couch, ripping open an alcohol wipe with after rolling up his sleeve. A moment later, Mrs. McLeary plopped down onto the armchair next to him.
“Okay, quick rundown.” Lucas started as he hooked up the tubing to the bags. Mrs. McLeary took the alcohol pad Desmond handed her and wiped down her inner forearm. “At first, you’ll feel like you’re high as hell. All woozy, sorta funny. You’ll start to see stuff, colors and stars ‘n shit, so just… keep your eyes shut. Then, you’re gonna feel sick. Really sick. Try not to puke.”
He screwed the needle onto the tube gestured to Desmond to lay down. He did, trying to get comfortable on the small couch as Lucas took his arm. He watched the needle go into his skin, before Lucas secured it with a bit of medicinal tape. The man turned to Mrs. McLeary next.
“This stuff-“ he waved at the IV bag full of swirling, unnaturally colorful liquid “-is gonna sting. Just stay still, take deep breaths, and it’ll pass before you know it.”
The needle went into her arm, and she winced. She kicked back in the armchair and closed her eyes, and Desmond could see her steadying her breathing.
“You know the drill - as soon as you can, send me a call.” Desmond nodded, looking over to the modified radio device on the coffee table. If he really listened, he could hear the faint hum of voices coming through the speaker, regardless of if it was turned on or not. “If anything happens, let me know and I’ll get you out. Remember, once you’re-“
“In the tape, contact cuts off. I know.” Desmond smiled up at his maybe-possibly-boyfriend, and his maybe-possibly-boyfriend smiled back, albeit a little wobbly. Then, Desmond closed his eyes.
“Stay together, and make sure you listen to everything he says. If anything happens out here, I’ll tell you right away.” Desmond felt Lucas’ hand squeeze his leg in reassurance, for the both of them. “And don’t do anything stupid. That goes for the both of you.”
“Aye, I know. And fuck off.” Mrs. McLeary piped up, and Desmond chuckled. Yeah, she’ll be fine.
“Suggestion noted by management.” The woman huffed out her own laugh. “Okay. Stay safe, please. Opening the line in five, four, three…”
A couple seconds later, the aforementioned stinging sensation crept up his arm, spreading through his chest and stuffing his head like burning cotton. He was used to the feeling by now, even after all this time, but that didn’t mean that he had to like it. Faintly, he heard Mrs. McLeary groan, and Lucas say something that sounded encouraging.
The feeling of being high on the stuff, he could never get used to. He thought back to the shipping container on the USS Thanatos, back in Allen’s tape, and wondered if tripping balls inside of it was an event brought on by someone else’s memory, or just an obstacle put in his path by his own Shadow. Was he really just high as hell, or was he just experiencing the situation second-hand?
As nausea and a sense of disconnect flooded him, though, he found that he couldn’t be bothered to care. He had other things to worry about, now. He could ponder the legitimacy of his own emotions and experiences later, once he and Lucas were back at one of their homes, in one of their beds. Wrapped up in each other, holding each other together like tape.
Yeah. That sounded nice… for the three seconds that the thought stayed in his head. A few more seconds later, he couldn’t think much at all. There was nausea, a heavy body slowly falling away with all its senses following suit, and then nothing. Nothing at all.