You're All By Yourself But You're Not Alone(Sean)

[Deleted]

Oriel didn't know why he was here...which was a lie, because he knew exactly why he was here. And for once it wasn't because he half-killed one of his classmates. Well, at least not directly. Ok, maybe it was more directly related than he was willing to admit. But the point was that for once, Oriel was here of his own volition. Kind of. Basically, he wasn't here for a sentencing.

Oriel played with one of the buttons on his shirt, opened to reveal a white long-sleeved tee underneath, the button-up proper being a dark green plaid. His jacket was strewn over the back of the chair he was sitting in, it's color a faded mud, hems frayed, and clearly long overdue for replacement. He slouched as far as a slouch had ever slouched, his knees bent at a 90 degree angel to firmly plant his growing feet on the floor. A thread of his long, waving hair trailed in front of his face, rising and falling as he breathed in an out from his nose. His nose which was crinkled above a very indignant frown.

He flit his darkly lashed eyes up to view the man sitting across from him, like the all-hailed Oz behind the curtain, like some magistrate or duke who sat on his podium and looked down on those who sat in this chair.

No...Oriel knew better than that. But he just couldn't shake the feeling that there was an unequal balance of respect between the two. Even though it made sense. The dude was a doctor, a psychiatrist, a well-accomplish adult of many years and Oriel was just...some punk kid with a foul mouth, no family, and no home. And a troublemaker, to boot.

It was obvious who was the better person here.

How the fuck did one start these things any-who? Oriel hadn't even made an appointment like he was supposed to, a follow-up from some special care he'd gotten at the hospital last month. And like the dumb kid he was, Oriel waited until the very last minute...no about a week past the last minute to get anything done, not without some gentle(forceful) encouragement from Phoenix.

"I...." he finally started with some hesitation. "....I should've come more early."

Stating the obvious, great job, Oriel!

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had an open-door policy, which was that when he wasn’t engaged in a session or a meeting with someone else, then he was available to talk with whoever came to his door. No matter whom the person happened to be, student or coworker, his office was open, and he was there to help. Even if that person was generally antagonistic towards him or previously had demonstrated no inclination to heed his advice.

Additionally, as the Hammel psychiatrist, Sean had access to medical records. This was necessary in order to provide a standard of care, particularly since, as with physical medicine, a student could find herself in his care without any real warning. He was also plugged into the general information about the occurrences at the school, and Erik was one of his patients. As such, he had been aware of the altercation between Erik and Oriel. He knew that the injuries had been severe enough that Oriel had been admitted to the hospital as a result.

He had been privy to Yvette’s ire over the affair; she had handled the disciplinary action herself, because of the severe nature of Oriel’s injuries. That was something that he and Erik would have to work on for a very long time.

Sean also knew that Oriel had seen a psychiatrist while hospitalized. Those had become part of his medical records to which the Hammel psychiatrist had access. He had made careful notes, and, perhaps, this encounter was inevitable.

Thus, when the boy had arrived at his office, he had ushered Oriel inside, as he would with any student. Once the boy was seated, he had waited for Oriel to initiate conversation.

Then it had come.

The psychiatrist shook his head slightly. “You have to come at your own pace.” Then, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

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It could not be said enough that Oriel did not blame Erik for what happened. And he probably never would. If Erik hadn't done what he done….better yet, if Oriel hadn't done what he done, if he hadn't lost his head, then Erik wouldn't have had to do what he did. If Oriel had just done something else, like punch a wall or go for a run like he usually did when it built up that much…then Oriel wouldn't be sitting here right now.

No…that was the point, he wouldn't be sitting here. Oriel knew himself too well, he'd have put it off even longer. Or he'd just have never come at all.

His eyes settled down on the horizon of his knees as he considered the doctor's question. Oriel shrugged. "If you're talking about my foot, it's fine." It was just going to look disgustingly yellow and green for the duration of the year. "Otherwise…" Otherwise….

Oriel pushed himself up in the chair and leaned forward. "I feel like I'm about this fucking small," he said with a breathy snort, holding his fingers out no more than two centimeters apart. Being in this office to meet with Sean the Psychiatrist instead of Sean the Inquisitor was a completely different experience and it made Oriel uneasy.

He leaned back again, though not as much as before, looking down at his fumbling fingers. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say." Or if any of this would even help.

Of course it would, he tried to assure himself. Whatever it was that they gave him at the hospital had helped…until he ran out.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean waited quietly for Oriel to answer the question, since he had no intention of running over the boy when he had come to the psychiatrist’s office of his own volition. They could go slowly; Sean certainly had the patience for that.

“I’m glad to hear that your foot is fine.” The psychiatrist was glad to hear that, since he wished no harm on any of the students, and Oriel’s injury had been particularly ghastly. However, his primary concern was not the boy’s physical health, but rather the state of his psyche, his life, and the emotional fallout. Those were obviously in a poorer state, as signified by Oriel’s separation of them with the ominous word “otherwise...”

He certainly understood how the boy was feeling, given everything. To that end, he said, “I can imagine.” Because he could, with or without the use of his telepathy.

Sean acknowledged Oriel’s discomfort and uncertainty with a nod. “You don’t have to say anything in specific, but if you want to start somewhere, you can say what you find most pressing.” If that didn’t work, then there were other options. “Or you could start at the beginning, if you’d like. There isn’t any right or wrong way to do this.”

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Not for the first time, many times in fact, Oriel wished that his power was something far more useful like telepathy or mind reading or truth detection.  Because as much as he was trying to reassure himself right now that Dr. Neville was being honest and genuine, he was still nearly overwhelmed with the idea that everything that came from his mouth merely patronizing, said only for the sake of saying. Because he had to, it was his job and that's what he was paid for.  It was hard to find trust in someone like that.  Hard to believe that their concern was genuine.

What was even harder, what made that fear even more impairing was that he actually liked Sean.  He hated finding out, of knowing what the doctor really thought of him, he hated not knowing, he hated....

"Thanks," he said with a nod, slipping on his poker face to hide those insecurities. At least, he tried to.

"The beginning," he echoed, his eyes fixing on some random corner of the room.  A slight frown and a shallow shake of his head both preceded his next words. "Fuck...I don't even know where that is..."  The beginning.  Like the beginning of his life? Because that could take a while to get through, Oriel estimated about 3 days of none-stop talking; he was sure to get parched for it.  

Start with something easy then. Just start somewhere. That's all that mattered, right? "I...you know, when I was in the hospital, Phoenix mentioned maybe…maybe the two of us going back to New York together or something. For the holidays." That finally brought a smile to his face, if only halfway. "Don't know how he was planning to do that, we're both shit broke, but…it was nice to think about. You ever been there 'round Christmas, Doc?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean could see that the boy was having some difficulty with this, and so he said, “The beginning is one place to start.” That wasn’t said with sarcasm, but rather it was true. Some patients preferred a linear narrative, and thus he recommended starting at the beginning. However, if that proved too difficult for Oriel, or if he preferred to start somewhere else in terms of sharing what was on his mind, then there were other options. “Or we could try free association, or talking about the weather.”

None of those suggestions were sarcastic. All of those had legitimate purposes, depending on the flow of conversation.

Fortunately, Oriel chose somewhere to begin, albeit in a roundabout way. Sean could work with that.

“Yes, I have,” the psychiatrist replied with a nod. “It’s quite lovely during the holiday season, with the tree in Rockefeller Center and the ice skaters.” Less so with the poverty that had only worsened due to the income stratification since when he had last lived in New York.

Sean waited a beat, before he asked, “How are you and Phoenix doing?”

That was bait, should Oriel choose to take it. If the boy wanted to use that as a way of easing into the topic of whatever had brought him to this office, then all the better. If he didn’t want to take it, then they could converse until Oriel felt more at ease to have the deeper discussion.

[Deleted]

It sounded dumb, starting off with something that couldn't happen. Even if Phoenix and Oriel did come up with the money to travel down there, Oriel had his doubts as to whether the school officials would even let him go to the grocery store by that time, much less all the way to NYC.

Hearing the exact things that Dr. Neville spoke of had Oriel's smile broadening further at the mere memory. It really was an amazing sight. "Yeah, I used to hang out there a lot. They'd always get me for being on the ice without skates." Which usually ended with him running away or getting caught by security. Then they'd call his foster family. There'd be words, disappointment, frustration, indifference often enough…then a day or two later he was right back out there, causing problems again. Being a problem.

And that was supposed to be one of his happy memories.

He looked up at the doctor again, his smile having faded somewhere between here and there. "….we're fine, I guess." That didn't even sound convincing to himself. "I ain't never tried the whole relationship thing before. Feels weird." How was he supposed to be able to tell if they were fine?

The mention of Phoenix, however, had Oriel's mind racing about everything, everything that had happened in the past few months. He remembered how he screamed when Kodi bit him in the courtyard. He remembered how Phoenix fawned over him in the aftermath when Oriel had shut himself down. He remembered how panicked he became when he thought Phoenix was drowning. He remembered how happy he was when they finally became 'official' and how enraged he was when Erik called Phen a 'thing'. He remembered how horrible Phoenix looked, how much he wasn't taking care of himself, while Oriel was in the hospital. He remembered how scared he was when Phoenix injured himself the week before.

Oriel didn't even realize he was gnawing on his knuckles until he tried to speak. "I'm fucking terrified," he mumbled, keeping his eyes fixed away.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“They will do that.” Sean had never attempted that during any of his winters in New York City. However, when he had gone ice skating in Rockefeller Center, he remembered a few people who would try to go out on the ice without skates. They were always stopped, one way or another, because they created a safety hazard, for themselves and for everyone else on the ice.

“Relationships can be difficult,” the psychiatrist agreed. He tried to impart that during his annual Sexual Education lecture, since that was intended to serve full-spectrum education, rather than the bare bones of cisgendered, heterosexual intercourse. Relationships were about compromise, and they involved a level of sharing that did not exist in casual interactions, and certainly not if one considered oneself an island of a person. That was one of the reasons that Sean considered himself well-suited towards them, on a personal level.

“Why are you terrified?” The question was not coupled with any degree of judgment or accusation. The psychiatrist had his ideas for the cause of Oriel’s terror at the notion of his relationship, but he wanted to hear it from the boy, in his own words. It wouldn’t do to discuss Oriel’s feelings and fears in such a way as to speak for him.

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"Yeah..." Back then he didn't get it. It took a few years before he finally figured out the 'why' behind the 'no'. "They think I'm stupid or something. It's like, all they care about is telling people, telling no-good brats like me, what they can or can't do." Just thinking about it made him want to....

Oriel clenched a fist. Took a slow breath. He blinked.

"Doesn't matter anyway," he muttered. By the time he knew what was what, he was only doing it out of spite anyway; because they told him 'no'. That's how it was for a lot of the things he did after a while.

Oriel chuckled softly at Sean's underwhelming assessment. "Don't got to be a doctor to know that," he said with a smile. He didn't mean anything by it, Dr. Neville was one of the few adults that Oriel respected, even if they'd only ever met previously when Oriel had done something warranting discipline. It wasn't always like that, but over time, the old man had slowly wormed his way into Oriel's evil little heart.

Oriel knew he wasn't suited for having an exclusive relationship. That's one of the reasons why he was having so much trouble with this one. His first 'real' one. Contrary to how he treated people, he actually liked them, though he'd never admit it. The more he liked you, the more insults he tossed out at you. And the more physical he became as well. Oriel didn't think he'd ever find someone who liked him as much as Phoenix did. At least, Oriel hoped that he did. He'd said so, right? If Phoenix every said he didn't...

"...Th...there's a lot of things why. I--." Oriel wasn't even sure he could say it. He breathed. "I don't want to lose him." Was that it? Not completely, no. Far from it, in fact.

He felt his throat tighten, about to close completely if he even dared to continue. There was were so many other things there that he didn't want to speak out loud. He was afraid to say them, that they would seem stupid or worthless once he finally got them out. Oriel already knew they were, he'd been told so many times already, he'd told himself the same thing. But no matter how trivial they sounded, still they stung, they boiled, and threatened to swallow him up from the inside until he couldn't breath. Or until he exploded.

What was he going to do next time something happened? The next time someone treated him like shit, the next time someone endangered Phen(or any of his other friends), or threatened to take him away? Kill someone? Worse?

Oriel breathed. "I'm scared of myself," he said finally, softly. He still hadn't looked at the doctor.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had complicated opinions about security guards and the police, none of which were appropriate for this conversation. It was enough that Oriel had expressed his own opinions of them, interspersed with his past experiences and rounded out with a telling gesture.

The psychiatrist saw Oriel clench his fist. He also saw the boy take the moment to calm himself and unclench a second later. That was filed away mentally for later.

“That’s natural,” Sean replied, to the admission that Oriel didn’t want to lose Phoenix. It was natural not to want to lose one’s significant other, particularly when one was young, relatively in the throes of infatuation, and coupled with the adolescent feeling of immortality and invulnerability. The psychiatrist knew it well, had seen it countless times over the years.

However, he knew that the situation was a bit more complicated, and he waited for further clarification. Oriel did not disappoint.

To be scared of oneself was to engage in a degree of introspection, which was a step on the road to self-restraint. Alone, it was no guarantee of anything, but it was a start, a particularly important start when it came to adulthood. A large part of being an adult was responsibility: being responsible for one’s actions and for assisting others. One could not be responsible if one acted on impulse, particularly not when acting on violent impulses. It was important to articulate one’s concerns, as that, too, was part of responsible communication.

Sean kept his gaze on Oriel as he asked, “Why are you afraid of yourself?”

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Well…seemed like they were past all of the more pleasant topics and on to the tough ones. Oriel had hoped they would have lasted longer. But somehow…even the attempt at trying to talk about something easy, something nice and warm had cycled into something he didn't want to think about anymore.

But now they were getting closer to the heart of the issue and Oriel was slowing down, halting his progress. There was so much he wanted to say and equally so he didn't want to say them. He felt like if he started, then he really would just end up vomiting out everything all at once and would never be able to stop. And consequently reveal things he would never want to share with anyone.

He was afraid of stigma, judgement for the things he was thinking, for things that he'd done, even for just being the person he happened to be.

But it was all a moot point when your psychiatrist was also a telepath.

He took another breath, trying to figure out how formulate these ideas into words that made sense. It was a lot harder than it looked. Harder than it probable should've been.

"I….I know I'm an asshole, alright?" he started finally and quick paced, a defensive tone in his voice. Like he had to justify it to Dr. Neville. "I ain't going to deny it, been working for me for years." His whole life practically. It was hard not to when there was so much to be angry about. "But….I thought I'd been getting better. You know, since hooking up with Phoenix. I even--" He huffed out a breathy laugh. "I even joined school clubs, hell, I went on that stupid retreat. I ain't never done that before." Oriel shook his head, looking between the doctor and the wall and the floor. "I was even going to go to that dumb Halloween dance." He'd never even considered it before.

"I thought I was doing better…." he repeated softly, looking down at the floor again. "Then….then something happens to Phoenix and I can't fucking hold it together anymore! Suddenly, I'm fucking paranoid about anyone even getting close to him, anyone even looking, I try to let it go, but then I just…..urrggg!!" He'd raised his voice throughout that last part and grabbed his forehead in his hand. "I can't. Make it. Stop." Oriel spoke through gritted teeth as he shut his eyes, trying to control his breathing, keeping it steady, but clearly ragged. "I don't want to….what happens if I take it out on Phoenix one of these days?" Or someone else he actually cared about? He'd already blown up at Erik and it was just pure luck that that didn't completely ruin their friendship.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Oriel had described himself, and while Sean was patient and strove to find the best aspects of everyone, he couldn’t wholeheartedly disagree with the boy’s self-assessment. However... “Language,” he reminded Oriel. Even from self-deprecation, the psychiatrist didn’t encourage speaking that way to an adult. More than that, rather than merely trying to label it in a vulgar (and thus less precise manner), Oriel should work on the underlying traits and behaviors so that he could change his reputation and his self-perception.

“Going to the retreat was a step,” he agreed, although the psychiatrist also vividly remembered what had followed that retreat. An inappropriate game of Truth or Dare, violation of physical boundaries, and attempts at blackmail. That was hardly stellar behavior, and thus it was quite possible that Oriel was attributing more to this than what had actually occurred. That didn’t mean that he shouldn’t strive, but progress came slowly.

“The fact of the matter is that behavior doesn’t actually work in the long-term.” That had to be said.

That as a valid concern, and it was something for an individual to work on as a means of self-improvement. Both for Oriel’s sake and for those of his loved ones. Of course, abuse wasn’t driven by anger alone. Plenty of people were angry who didn’t engage in abuse of their loved ones, and plenty of abusers were cold and calculating in their actions. Still, anger management skills were valuable for any individual to possess.

To that end, the psychiatrist asked, “Have you considered enrolling in an anger management program?”

It was quite possible that the answer to that question was a resounding no, but it was still worthwhile to suggest.

[Deleted]

Not surprisingly, Oriel shot the Dear Doctor Neville a fierce glare when the warning of his language was finally brought up. Weren't there more important things to think about than whether or not he was using so-called offensive language!? Besides, it was directed at himself, it wasn't like he was hurting anybody from it (and Oriel was clearly too stubborn/stupid to realize that that was actually part of the problem).

"I thought so," Oriel agreed, though he still wasn't conscious of the consequences of his actions nor the step back he'd made almost instantly against the doctor himself. Oriel was more concentrated on the fact that he'd participated in things, attempted to be amiable around them, it's when he'd started building his friendship with Erik, and he'd even reconciled with Mia. That was progress, right? Never mind that those same activities had been destructive, or that he'd also begun an equally destructive relationship with someone(Jack) whom he considered an amusing playmate.

Oriel thought he was pretty self-aware of his behavior, but he didn't even realize that he was also very ignorant as well.

"So, what? I'm just supposed to fu--- i'm supposed to just be able to switch it on and off like a…like a light switch or something?" Is that how it was supposed to work? Because Oriel didn't think it was that simple, otherwise it wouldn't be a problem in the first place. Then he wouldn't always be a problem.

Oriel was already feeling pretty off in this session, his heart had fallen more times than was necessary, he thought. At hearing the suggestion for anger management, it did once again and Oriel flared up inside. Why in the world would he need--? What good was--? He kept his eyes on Dr. Neville, hard and resentful at such a suggestion for a few moments before he lowered them, his shoulders relaxing again. "What the…what do they even do in that anyway?" Oriel couldn't even imagine that they'd be any use even if he did go.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean returned Oriel’s glare with a steely expression of his own. He would not wilt under the notion of offense that the boy might take to having his profanity stifled. He had yet to be out-stubborned by a student, and that would not begin with Oriel Vanguard.

As it was, it was obvious that the boy was not employing all of the perspective necessary to properly evaluate his actions at the camping trip. Or afterward. But it was a start.

The psychiatrist shook his head, because he didn’t expect most people to attain that level of emotional control. Even Sean himself, with his deep well of patience and reserve of emotional strength couldn’t simply turn off his emotions, even if he could pretend otherwise for the benefit of others. Even if he could mask his emotions with his mental shields. “Feeling something and acting on it are to very different things, Oriel. Feeling upset and lashing out are not one in the same, and that’s where control factors in.”

Oriel’s reaction was typical of people, particularly young men, when confronted with the idea of anger management. There was an insidious cultural script that simultaneously reinforced anger as something that couldn’t be controlled while denigrating all attempts to control it through skill acquisition. The psychiatrist didn’t subscribe to that dismissive script, and it was a long-term project to make sure that none of his students did either. Maintaining eye contact with the boy, he replied, “Anger management teaches coping skills, so that people learn the skills and tactics necessary to prevent outbursts.” Tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Isn’t that what you said you worried about?”

[Deleted]

Oriel was already having a hard enough time trying to figure out what he wanted to say and how he was going to say it if at all, it was already hard enough just being here, the last thing he needed was another reason to for him to stress out and feel inferior, to be paranoid about offending the dear doctor and panicking if Oriel ended up slipping on that front. Fuck, even the way he talked wasn't good enough for people.

Which was another problem Oriel wasn't recognizing. How easily he could misinterpret a situation into being a personal attack on him.

He knew what Dr. Neville was saying. It was something he'd thought himself. Oriel thought he had some pretty good control, he even thought he had a fair amount of patience, actually more than most. He thought he could hold himself back pretty well and keep people from knowing how he was truly feeling at any particular time. He masked his own irritability, his stress and discomfort with others by lashing out with childish antics, feigned happiness, teasing and cruel playfulness. That was how he chose to deal with it on a day to day basis. Oriel figured that was better than being downright poisonous and threatening to every person he came across. Like how Erik did. The end result was the same though, it kept people at a distance. Which was a double-edged sword in Oriel's case. Oriel, who wanted to keep people away yet still yearned to keep them close.

He was quiet for a moment, bringing his eyes down to focus on his fingers that were now picking at the cuticles on his bitten nails. "You…don't think I got good control," he assessed what Dr. Neville had said, as if there was a hidden meaning.

The thought of going to anger management twisted his stomach. It scared him, honestly. What would people think if he went? Oriel kept thinking of the stares and the judgmental looks he'd get from people who wondered what could possibly be wrong with this poor kid so young that he would actually have to attend such a stupid program. Some sort of feel-good convention, right? Where they shared feelings and taught you "tricks". Coping skills, Sean called it.

He nodded. Yeah, Oriel was worried about that but… "Like, what kind of coping skills. Like, taking a deep breath? Counting to fu-- to ten? Go for a walk? Do something else for ten minutes?" He already did all that. It worked most of the time. On a normal day Oriel just needed a few moments to calm himself down and throw on his "happy mask". When it was particularly bad, he'd been known to just run away. But what if the situation didn't allow for any of that? Oriel took a breath. "I just want it to go away."