Sixth Sense of a Sixth Officer

Chapter 8

Thankfully, Captain Smith was not hard to find. He was outside on the starboard side of the bridge wing, with Second Officer Lightoller by his side, serving his watch duty. With the mental happenings occurring to Murdoch, he's been relieved from his watch duty, with Fifth Officer Lowe and Sixth Officer Moody joined together in one shift as a temporary replacement. But Murdoch felt his troubles were finally about to end, and that he could finally return back to his work. He felt somewhat bad that Titanic's last two remaining junior officers were now covering his work. "Excuse me, Captain Smith." Both the Captain and Mr. Lightoller turned around to see Ada. "Miss Florence, how are you?" Smith greeted. "Good, sir. I've done my evaluation of Mr. Murdoch and I would like to have another chat with you, if that's okay." She replied. "Certainly." Smith steps down from the platform, offering a small farewell to Lightoller, who nodded and returned his gaze to the ocean.
"So, I've done my evaluation of Mr. Murdoch and we've come to agree that he has Dissociative Identity Disorder, or also known as Multiple Personality Disorder. I was wondering if Dr. O'Loughlin has any medications that can be prescribed to him."
"Perhaps. What kinds of medication do you need?"
"Antidepressants, anti-anxiety medication and antipsychotic drugs are what are usually prescribed for personality disorders."
"How do we know what specific medications Mr. Murdoch needs out of those categories?"
"Well, there are no specific meds for treatment, so it may be a few different types."
"Shall I accompany you, Miss Florence?"
"Thank you, but no. Mr. Murdoch will be accompanying me, if that's okay."
"Fine enough, Miss Florence. Thank you for letting me know. I shall let you know that the crew are treated in a separate hospital that is forward on C Deck."
Ada Florence and William Murdoch walked down the deck, making for the forward part of C Deck, where there was a 4-bed sick bay for Titanic's crew, out of the three total hospitals on the entire ship. Neither Miss Florence nor Mr. Murdoch could find any topics worth discussing on their walk, which is what made it awkward. What could either one of them say? What was there to say anyways, besides the things on Will's condition. "So how often shall I be taking these medications?" The Scottish sailor finally asked, breaking the awkward silence at last. "Most likely just once a day, but we'll have to see what Dr. O'Loughlin says." She replied. Murdoch nodded, and once again the two fell silent. When the two arrived, Murdoch held open the door like any gentleman would, entering the room only after she had. "Hello, madam," Dr. O'Loughlin began. "How can I help you? Oh, hello, Mr. Murdoch!" He added. "This is Miss Ada Florence, she's a psychologist and she was wondering if you had some certain types of medication for me." Murdoch explained. "Oh, of course. What do you need?" "I was wondering if you have any of these types?" Ada asked, handing O'Loughlin the pad of paper. He looks it over for a moment or two before he rushes to the nearby medicine cabinets. "Yes, I do, actually!" Returning to the pair, O'Loughlin gives Murdoch three bottles, one was antidepressants, the second anti-anxiety, and the third was antipsychotic. "Take one of each a day. You can start tonight or tomorrow morning." He said. Murdoch nodded. "Thank you." He said. "It's no problem. Is that all?" O'Loughlin asked. "Yes, thank you." Ada said. After bidding the doctor farewell, Murdoch and Ada left, heading back to Titanic's bridge. "I heard tell that you will be staying in one of the staterooms in the aft Grand Staircase. They are some of the finest staterooms on Titanic, and perhaps only on Titanic." Murdoch said, cutting the silence on their walk back to the bridge. "That sounds lovely, thank you." Ada replied. "You're welcome, Miss Florence, though it wasn't really my doing." Murdoch replied. Ada smiled at that comment.
"So, Mr. Murdoch is getting the medication he needs, meaning that this situation has just about completely blown over." Lowe said. He and Moody were walking up and down Titanic's desks. "I guess so." Moody replied. "But the strangest thing is that I feel like there's more that's peaking my curiosity with all this." The sixth officer then added. "What's that, then?" Lowe questioned. "I don't know, but, like, how long has Murdoch had this second personality to him, and only now has it been brought up to our attention? Why hasn't something like this happened sooner? Why hasn't something like this happened before?" Lowe pursed his lips, nodding his head in agreement, seeing Moody's point. "Well, maybe there are times where Mr. Murdoch can keep his other mind under control?" Lowe offered. "Perhaps." Moody replied. "But even so, I still just can't seem to get this whole situation out of my mind." Moody then added. Inside his cabin, Will Murdoch stood in front of his cabin's washbasin, carefully scraping off white colored shaving cream off his face with his razor. It's been a day or so since he last shaved, so at this point, it was a necessity to do so. After the task was done, and after the Scotsman was just as presentable as he always was, he made his way out of his cabin and out of the Officer's Quarters. Walking a bit down the deck of the Officer's Promenade, Murdoch opened the door to the Officer's Smoking Room and closed the door behind him. The room was empty, but its silence made it all the more calm, which Murdoch favored. Taking a seat at one of the room's tables, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his usual, trusty pipe, along with a matchbox. Putting the tip in his mouth, he opened the box of matches, pulling one out and striking it hard against the box's side. The wick bursted into a small flame, and Murdoch brought the flame to the open circle at the pipe's bottom. A few puffs of smoke were puffed out before he extinguished whatever was left on the match. Murdoch had done all this in silence. Sitting back in the chair, the gray smoke mixed in with the color of the smoking room's lights before fading out, only to be followed by a new gust of the gray, tobacco scented air. Oh, was Murdoch feeling so good today, unlike how he had been recently. Was this situation truly coming to an end? Was this squabble with Murderous Murdoch finally going to be put behind all of them? What were the thoughts of his alternate side? He obviously knew everything that's happened; the medicine, that being. Was everything going to be finally over? Or was the worst unknowing yet to come? And if so, what would the worst be? Murdoch didn't know, but the puffing of his pipe and the silence of the room gave him his relaxation and comfort. Suddenly the door opened and Murdoch turned his head to see Lowe and Moody walking in with Wilde behind them. Although their entrance broke the silence, the thought of company wasn't really bothersome. "Hey, Will. How's your head feeling?" Wilde asked, a grin on his face. "Aye, I'm doing okay actually." He replied. "How 'bout a game of poker?" Lowe asked. Murdoch breathed in a deep breath, but he didn't object. "Alright, I'm in."