Damaging to his mental health? Marc couldn't help but laugh. "Doc, my mental health is an absolute shitshow, whether I'm stressed or not," he told her, and scrubbed at his face before biting down on his index finger. Not hard, just enough to keep him grounded for the time being.
"She means it. Just... tell her your name, yeah? That's a start. She probably thinks you're me," Steven told him, that little bit of pressure in the back of his mind letting him know that he wasn't alone.
Marc nodded in reply to both Steven and Cuddy. He took a breath and let it out.
"My, uh. My name. My name is Marc Spector. Steven Grant is... he's my," he said, before trailing off and staring over at a small tear in the curtain that was hiding the stuff for about ten seconds.
"Marc? Marc? Hiya, focus, come on."
"We have Dissociative Identity Disorder. We're headmates. We've been in and out of psychiatric hospitals since we were a teenager but I don't think Steven remembers them." Marc's voice was quiet, almost monotone, and he didn't look away from the small tear once.