Unwanted Measures

The headaches, the general fatigue. His difficulty focusing. His loss if interest in normal everyday things. Even food now tasted like cardboard. Things that used to be a major mood booster now just served to depress him even further. And when he was not feeling low, Derek was angry. 

And not just a regular type of angry over things that would set anyone off. Things like his uncle's never-ending schemes, rude people, brats, bad drivers cutting him off in traffic. Those things, Derek would understand if he got angry over, but the smallest things were now enough to have him seeing red.

A person smiling at him in greeting. The wind suddenly kicking up some leaves during a stroll on the manor grounds. Doors closing, doors opening! The sky being too blue! The sun too bright! Even just thinking those things had his heart rate picking up.

Unable to trust himself, Derek had taken to avoiding his mother. If he snapped at her, there was no way that she would not realize that something was wrong. Even with all the eye creams he used to keep dark circles from forming beneath his eyes, she would know that he was not sleeping.

So he had begun actively avoiding her. Coming in when he knew she was either out or asleep. He had been at it for a week now, and he was sure she knew something was going on. But so long as she did not suspect that he was having trouble sleeping, then he was good.

But there was another important person in his life(even if he did not want to admit it), and that person he could not avoid, his PA.

For the most part, he had kept her away from the worst of his cantankerous mood, saving all the yelling and swearing for when she was not there. So long as he did not snap at her, he had the situation under control.

...Derek ended up snapping at her.

"Are you trying to get fired Miss Molson?" A distant part of him was begging him to stop, to leave the room, but all he could do was stand there while his mouth made the decisions for him.

"No, Mr Haven," She answered, not cowering looking him straight in the eye. His heart clenched at being called 'Mr Haven', she never called him that. But his mouth had a mind of its own.

"Then why is it that I just had to do a presentation for an important client and important slides from my work were missing!" He did not mean to yell the last part, but he did anyway.

"It is completely my fault, Mr Haven, I must have deleted them without realizing," Derek wanted to scream, at himself and at her. It was not all her fault, he should have checked that everything was in order before the meeting.

Besides, it was not a complete train wreck. When he had realized that slides were missing, he had turned people's attention from the projections, and she had manipulated the situation from the back. Fixing every thing without a single soul ever realizing that they were on the verge of a disaster.

She had displayed a calmness under pressure that most senior executives lacked, but even with all of that, all Derek saw was how badly things could have gone.

It was not a flaming mess, everything was fine. Better than fine even, the client had signed with them on the spot.

But Derek could not seem to get his rage to understand that. And it did not help matters that instead of standing her ground like he was used to her doing. Emily was just standing there and taking it. A distant look in her eyes.

She had no right to look so tired. So defeated, not when she got to sleep every night, and that made him even angrier.

Scared of saying things he could not take back, Derek pointed at the door. Ordering her out without a word. She went quietly, her steps slower than usual, her small frame swaying every time she moved.

Was she sick? Was that why she had made such an uncharacteristic mistake?

Had he just yelled at someone who was coming down with something?

Guilt gnawing at him, Derek paced around the office a bit, then he sat back down and spun in his chair. He spun once, twice, then he stopped and pulled out his phone.

It was a simple matter of finding the correct contact and dialling.

"Hello, I would like to make an appointment…" He began.

By the time the call ended, Derek had made an appointment that he knew at the end of, he would be prescribed the very thing he had been avoiding all along.

Sleeping pills.