Called out in the Dark (Sean)

[Remle Boyd]

It had been an interesting three days since her interview with Dakota Hyde, and by interesting she meant frustrating and distracting. At times she was seething with anger over the whole thing, other times she wanted to crawl under the covers and die of embarassment, other times were filled with blushes remembering when he said she was cute, she wasn't cute! No one ever called her cute! Well, not when she was sober anyway, which upset her on a whole different level. The other upsetting thing was how the listeners had reacted to Dakota's questions about her speficially. She didn't want to share that information, it was hers! She nearly went into panic attacks thinking about it. 

She had gone to the training center after work because she needed to work out a lot of these feelings she was having and forcing herself to calm down around others was always a good way to smother her panic but she had to cut her training short because she couldn't focus on what she was doing and was working herself into a bigger ball of stress because of it. She finally gave up when the shadow she was trying to shape into a specific type of Japanese building became Godzilla and rampaged around. After washing her face and changing clothes she took herself to the only place she remembered being of any use to her when she got this way. The familiarity of the path served her well as she already began to anticipate the calm her actions would bring and felt the panic start to ebb away. 

She arrived at a door she knew too well and took a deep, shaky breath even as her hand raised to knock sharply on the wood the way she would knock all the other times she had visited Dr. Neville's office. She hoped he was in, there was nothing to indicate that he was with someone else, but she was dropping in very unexpectedly, she hadn't seen him since she moved back to Pilot Ridge and instead of being a normal person and just dropping in to say a friendly hello, she was about to fling her problems at him because right now, she knew he was the only one she trusted enough to vent to. She was starting to panic again. What if he didn't remember her? What if he was busy or not in? What if he wouldn't see her? She felt like she would be sick. 

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Since accepting the position of Hammel Psychiatrist nearly two-and-a-half decades ago, Sean had kept long hours as a matter of course. Often, the students needed him, and he needed to plan around their academic requirements, which often meant arriving early or staying late. In addition to sessions, he had paperwork, he had conferences with the family or guardians of students, he had conferences with the rest of the staff. He served as faculty advisor to both the Student Activities Council and the Peer Mediators, both of which had intense, often long, meetings and which, by necessity occurred after school hours had ended.

He had begun to keep a more regular schedule after his reconciliation with Josh. After all, he now had a partner at home who expected him. He had a family, as opposed to merely the students, and thus the psychiatrist had adjusted his hours a bit. Sean didn’t arrive quite as early, and he didn’t remain quite as late, although he still made himself as available as possible for the students or staff members who might need him.

As Sean did not possess an eidetic memory, he was incapable of remembering everyone and everything that crossed his path. This compounded as he grew older, due to the combined effects of aging with the natural result of encountering more people and experiencing more events with each passing day and year.

Still, the psychiatrist did not forget his students. His powers aided him there, because he could file away unique thought patterns, and he created systems by which to remember a student’s face, name, voice, and background to match with those thought patterns.

As such, Sean recognized Remle’s presence when he sensed her. It had been several years, but they had spent a great amount of time together during her tenure as a student. He couldn’t forget her.

With the knock, he rose from his desk where he had been engaged with end of the day notes. Sean crossed the short distance to his door and pulled it open. Peering down at her, he offered her a warm smile. “Remle! It’s a surprise; please, come in.”

[Remle Boyd]

A lot of Remle's stress fled and her shoulders sagged ever so slightly when Dr. Neville opened the door and invited her in. She grinned sheepishly at the fact that, yes...it was a surprise but came in nonetheless. "Hello Dr. Neville, it's nice to see you again. How have you been?" she asked politely as she moved to sit nearby, her bag set by her feet. She knew that she would need to trade pleasantries with him but she had never minded. Dr. Neville had long since moved into that special circile she reserved for people she trusted enough sober to share things with. She’d even managed to move her parents into that circle eventually.

She folded her hands into her lap, eyes darting about furtively to take in the familiar surroundings, seeing a poster that she swore had been there when she was a student and remembering all the good advice and breakthroughs Dr. Neville had helped her through over the years. "I'm sorry to drop by so unexpectedly but...I ran into a problem and I can't...work through it by myself," she admitted quietly. She wasn't opposed to talking about her life, but Kotas sudden appearance and wiggling into her life was so unexpected and strange that she had no idea how to handle it.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean moved out of the way of the door to allow Remle free entry. Although it had been a few years, she knew the rules of his office, should know that she chose where she sat – either the chairs near his desk or the sofa and armchairs at the other side of his office - and that he would take his cues from her. The psychiatrist never minded rearranging himself to make a student feel more comfortable, and that doubled for other staff or for former students who found their way to his office. He was accommodating.

Once she was inside, he shut the door to afford them full privacy (or as much privacy as one ever had at Hammel, surrounded by telepaths, empaths, those with super-enhanced senses, clairaudience, phasing, teleportation, and the list of potentially intrusive powers went on). Then, he dropped into the chair across from her, resuming the seat with the same posture he kept when sitting anywhere. Years of Catholic school prior to Hammel did wonders for how he carried himself.

The psychiatrist lifted one hand, making a small gesture to demonstrate that she owed him no apologies, formal or otherwise. “My door is always open,” he reminded her gently. It was as open to former students as it was to current ones.

His expression then became both curious and sympathetic. “What’s happened?”

[Remle Boyd]

Here it was, the moment of truth, so to speak. Remle was going to have to admit that a person was completely upsetting her balance and that part of her struggle was trying to figure out if this was a good thing or not. "Um...so, the other night I had to do an interview for work and I met...a guy," she faltered slightly. "And he said some things...they weren't...rude?" she questioned, eyes still firmly on her hands as she frowned trying to choose her next words.

"I can't stop thinking about him and I can't really decide if that's a good thing or not!" she blurted out, finally meeting Dr. Neville's eyes and then looking away again. "He asked me all these personal questions and it made me realize that I don't share things with anyone, even the people who listen to my show. I always thought that was okay but now I don't know and he sorta... I don't know...scolded? Advised? me about it because he said that it would be more interesting, that I should share at least something. I share my love of music don't I? Isn't that enough?" she asked almost desperately.

"The bigger problem has also been, in the last few days that I think about meeting him again and I worry about what he might say or...if he...he called me CUTE!" she snapped, blushing at the same time she frowned deeply. "People don't call me cute, they call me "grumpy" and "antisocial", they only call me cute when I'm-!" she cut herself off and her blush intensified as she dropped her head into her hands. "They only call me cute when I'm drunk," she finished almost dejectedly. "No one’s really shown an interesting in me like that before and I don't even know if it IS interest, but sometimes I think it is and that makes me nervous because I don't know how to respond to that. If it's not interest and he's just messing with me...it hurts," she sighed miserably, finally putting her hands down and lifting her head.

She felt better having expelled all of those problems at once but it just meant that all her insecurities about herself were on the table. That she was bad at her job, that she held no appeal to other people, and that no one understood her because she pushed them away out of fear and that no one ever would.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

These were among the times that Sean was most grateful for his meta-human abilities. Telepathy was not the functional equivalent of omniscience, even if certain segments of the population (or the broader culture) had similar expectations. That was the double-edged sword of telepathy: knowing more than a non-psychic knew with only their five normative senses while still failing to approach an advanced plane, all the while people assumed that you did and behaved as though you did, for better or for worse.

Telepathy did provide greater insight, and Sean – like all telepaths – used that as a means of assessing the intentions of other people. As such, the psychiatrist had never had to awkwardly dance through the typical patterns of human flirtation. Even though the telepathy also caused his needs to differ greatly from the average non-psychic, Sean found it a net positive. While he still had to do internal assessments of his reactions to people and situations, he was spared the agony of second-guessing his interpretations.

As such, his personal perspective differed enough that he had to fall back on observations and training, rather than his own experiences. Fortunately, he had long history with Remle.

His gaze remained steady but not intense – there for her to meet if she braved doing so for a second time. “Let’s break it down,” he suggested. That might make the situation more manageable for her.

“When he asked you those questions, was it as part of the interview? Was it on the air? Or was it more private?” That information would allow him to adjust his advice accordingly.

As for the next stage... “Some people are more private than others. But was it scolding? Tell me how he said it.” Over the years, he had seen time and again that Remle had a tendency to project her disappointment and distrust onto other people, which could occasionally color what she heard and what she conveyed to others, even in the case of a more neutral situation.

And then to the crux of the matter. “Why would he mess with you about that?” Some people were cruel enough to do so, but most people were either straightforward, or, if they were vaguer, did so from insecurity or uncertainty, rather than a sadistic or narcissistic streak. “How long have you known him?”

Perhaps having to answer the questions would help her to focus.

[Remle Boyd]

Remle took a deep breath as she forced herself to calm down and remember the situation clearly. Sean was one of the few people that could help her focus on the situation rather than her emotions. "It was...both?" she answered questioningly, remembering times when they had been off the air at breaks and the questioning continuing. "But some of it was on air and I couldn't not answer because it would be rude and unprofessional but it made me uncomfortable," she kneaded her lower lip with her teeth for a moment and flushed with embarrassment as she considered the second question. “No, he…he wasn’t actually scolding me,” she answered with a frown. “He seemed concerned, for me? For my audience? I had the feeling later that he was trying to reach out to me specifically,” Emotional distress aside, Dakota actually hadn't scolded her at all. Rather, his questions had seemed to have the ring of genuine curiosity and she wasn't sure what upset her more: him messing with her or him being interested in her.

Which brought her around to the most embarrassing question she had yet to answer because she wasn't sure how she should try and explain it. "I don't know; I had only met him that day." she answered quietly. She honestly could not fathom why someone she just met would be interested in her. It had taken several weeks, months even to just develop the two serious relationships she'd had while in college. She knew it was wrong to assume that Dakota was doing this as some sort of sick, twisted game but she was naturally distrustful of most people she came across, especially if they showed an outright and avid interest in her because again...she didn't know how she should handle it and usually became surly and cold. It was certainly no help that she didn’t feel as if she was particularly interesting or worthy of admiration. She decided that it was fair that Dr. Neville know that.

“When I was in college I dated a couple of men and it took a long time for me to feel comfortable enough to approach them. I was never approached by a member of the same or opposite sex for anything more serious than a group study session at the library. I don’t feel as if I inspire other people to approach me, in fact as you are more than aware, I try and discourage it. I was better…in college. I found people in my major interesting and I liked talking about our classwork but I tried to keep personal interaction to a minimum at least until I felt safe enough to move forward,” she explained as she looked back up and evenly eyed her former (and now current) confidant. “I had a roommate that I lived with, we got along well together. My parent’s saw it as a huge step forward and I did too…I was proud of myself. After my relationships failed, I decided to stop reaching out for a while, to be comfortable with myself again. I don’t encourage relationships that I wouldn’t be comfortable with, it bothers me…it always has when people just approach me out of the blue. What made it worse was how Dakota insisted on prying into my personal space while we were on air.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Remle’s description continued to be ambiguous, although Sean expected that. He had interacted with her enough times over the years – up until graduation – that he knew how she processed social interactions and her emotions. Like him, she was introverted, although her introversion took a vastly different form than his did. The psychiatrist was far more of a people person than Remle was, even if he, too, kept his secrets and did not share all of himself with others.

However, he did understand the pressures of being put on the spot. It was possible that the man in question did not understand the machinations at play, but Sean empathized with her there. “Were you able to direct him away from that topic while on the air? And did you continue it off the air?” That made a difference, although not as much as the answer to his next questions, insofar as assessing the otherwise unknown man’s intentions, “Did you tell him how that made you feel? And, if so, how did he react?”

Ignorance was one matter; callousness was another.

When Remle began to explain her time at college, filling him in on what had happened after they had lost contact, the telepath gave her his entire attention. He focused on her face, leaned forward slightly, cocked his ear to listen, and did not interrupt her. He nodded at times to show that he understood, but he said nothing until she finished speaking.

Only when she had finished, did he say, “It’s important to find a balance between being comfortable with one’s own company and being comfortable enough in one’s own skin to approach other people.” Not everyone had the same need for social interaction. Josh, for instance, was a terrible metric of human social behavior, because of how extroverted he was. The psychiatrist loved his partner, but the younger man had a tendency to project his expectations onto others – particularly shy people, introverts, and misanthropes – to disastrous results. On the other hand, nobody could accuse Cobalt Weaver of possessing a healthy self-image or comfort with himself as a valuable person by virtue of being human.

Sean did not want that for Remle. He had not wanted that for her when she had been a student at Hammel, either.

“And you know my opinions about boundaries.” The psychiatrist had always stressed the importance of establishing firm and comfortable boundaries, and of respecting the boundaries of others. It was a key component of his annual Sexual Education Talk.

Then she said a name. Pilot Ridge was small enough, and Dakota was an uncommon enough name that he had to ask, “Dakota Hyde?”

[Remle Boyd]

Remle thought back to the interview and nodded. "Yeah, uh..." she cleared her throat. "He only really talked about my tattoo," she motioned towards her arm where her octopus sat. "But I guess he realized how upset I was and he didn't bring it up after I changed the subject. The listener's asked a lot of questions though and that was unexpected. I didn't think they cared that much," she stumbled through the last bit, hating to admit that she didn't think she was interesting. "I didn't tell him how I felt but I'm fairly certain that he was aware," she added. She remembered how Dakota had dropped the subject and moved on.

She nodded when he briefly discussed finding her balance. It was this sort of advice that she needed relatively often in her life. And she was WELL aware of her boundaries...in fact she was so aware, she was starting to think that part of her problem was how far they extended out around her. She looked up in surprise when Sean gave her the name of her current obsessive thinking. If Sean knew him...then that meant that chances were incredibly high that Kota was a meta-human. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she stared at Sean and then nodded. "He's a...you know him?" she asked quietly, licking her suddenly dry lips.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean continued to listen patiently, nodding to show that he followed what she was saying. It sounded as though Dakota was not as invasive or combative as he might have been, given her initial description. However, he understood the discomfort someone could have with discussions about their appearance and body, particularly as a young woman, particularly as an introvert, particularly on the airwaves as part of her job. “What did the listeners ask?” Whether they had contributed to the discomfort was important to know. “For that matter, why was he there in the first place? What was the interview topic?”

It was quite possible that Dakota was aware. It sounded as though he had been responsive to her emotional cues. Moreover, as an adult sitting near her for the radio interview, he should have the interpersonal skills necessary to determine active discomfort.

“This is Pilot Ridge,” he reminded her gently. Pilot Ridge was a small community, and many of the residents had gone through Hammel at one point or another. Sean had held his position as Hammel psychiatrist for so long that he had seen decades of students graduate, and he had seen so many neighbors come and go. Most meta-human residents of Pilot Ridge who were not yet in middle age had some connection to the psychiatrist, and Dakota Hyde was no exception. “Dakota is a former student.”

Dakota was not one of his protégées, but Sean still recognized his name and would recognize him through appearance or telepathy.

[Remle Boyd]

Remle was silent for a moment, processing this new information before she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "They asked about my tattoo's, what they were, how many I had," Remle finally answered with a bristle and frowned defensively. She didn't get her tattoos for anyone but herself and it was her business if she wanted to share why she got them, what she had and how many of each happened to be on her body. She couldn't very well say that on the air and risk alienating her audience. Sucking it up and answering had been one of the hardest things she'd done this month. It wasn’t FAIR. Everyone else got to tell people to shove it if they were being too personal but apparently that was super right out for people in her position. At least that’s what Remle remembered from a myriad of sections in her communication classes.

"Dakota was there for an interview. I was originally supposed to conduct it with his parents but they backed out at the last minute. Instead of cancelling entirely, he came onto the show," she explained.

The fact that Dakota was a meta-human really had no bearing on this conversation so she set that aside for now. She started bouncing her foot in irritation. She should have been happy that Dakota showed up, she hated filling her air space with trivial bullshit. But she couldn't shake the fact that they started off on the wrong foot and that it was entirely his fault! At least it was in her head, if he hadn't thrown her off so badly she'd have handled everything so much better! She huffed and crossed her arms in irritation, glaring at the wall.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Admittedly, that was not what Sean had expected when he had asked the question. Granted, he did not listen to much radio aside from oldies stations and NPR, but asking about someone’s physical appearance tended to be off-limits in his experience. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he wondered just when he had become old.

That thought evaporated quickly, as the telepath focused on the rest of what Remle described. “And what was the interview supposed to be about?” He assumed it had something to do with business, if the interview had been intended for Dakota’s parents initially, at which point it likely would have fallen apart. That would result in dead time and awkwardness, and Sean could see from there how events could have unfolded.

Remle’s thoughts and body language also provided clues in that regard. He could see the movements of her leg, coupled with the angry thoughts that filled her mind.

She was irritated. He did not need to be an empath to detect that.

Silenced followed, as he carefully chose his words. Finally, he asked, “Do you remember sitting in this office and telling me about how angry your classmates made you?”

Given the contrasts she had drawn with college, Sean already knew the answer to that question. He had asked in order to focus her thoughts and the trajectory of the conversation, to draw her attention to her current situation and to help her place it in context with her past experiences and conduct.

[Remle Boyd]

Remle was silent for a moment before her shoulders relaxed and her arms dropped between her now slightly spread knees. She very clearly remembered being angry at her classmates, how loud they were, how nosey they were, how they wouldn't leave her alone...she sighed. "Yes," she answered softly. She wasn't sure what made being in college different, probably because you only saw certain people for one or two classes and social interaction was completely optional because everyone assumed by that point that you already had friends or were just...not interested. Remle's closest friend in college had been her roommate, but they only spoke sporadically through emails.

She took another deep breath and slumped. "I suppose this is one of those times that I should remember that not everyone who asks questions about me knows that I don't like it and isn't trying to irritate me on purpose," she continued. Her anger began to bleed away into the guilt that had been floating near the surface for the last few days. Guilt that she was bad at her job, guilt that she would never actually be good with people, guilt that she failed generally at so many things she thought she was good at. None of her other interviews in the past had been fraught with disaster like this one had…was it Kota or her? Was it a combination of both of them? Did he feel guilty or was her relieved that he never had to see her again. “So…then, what should I do?” she asked.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean was glad to see that his focusing question had served its purpose.

He then nodded, encouraging her in that realization. “I think it is, yes.” Sean believed that not all actions were weighted equally. Actions born from malice or with a deliberate, or even careless, disregard for other people should be interpreted as hostile. Ignorance based on social convention and not prejudice, or ignorance due to lack of experience as opposed to an unwillingness to listen, merited a calmer approach.

At the question, he leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands together such that his index fingers formed a point. “I think the answer to that depends on how much you want to see him again.” That was the quickest assessment, although he knew that it did not answer the question directly. In order to provide that much, he added, “If you think you’d like to see him again in a less formal setting, then I think you should reach out to him and invite him out. You can give a brief apology or explanation of what happened, and, if you feel comfortable, explaining your boundaries a bit so that he won’t overstep in the future. Then you can go organically from there.”

If she had no particular desire to see Dakota again after their exchange on the air, then a perfunctory apology or explanation would fit the situation.

[Remle Boyd]

Did she want to see Dakota again? Yes...she would but she didn't necessarily think that would happen. She didn't know how to get in contact with him and beyond that she wasn't sure if he would even agree to meet with her socially. Though Pilot Ridge wasn't huge, she might just bump into him accidently. "Well, I think I'd like to see him to apologize but...I don't think he'd want to see me," she admitted with a sigh, reaching up to scratch behind her ear. "Which is fine, I don't want to make him uncomfortable. If I see him around town though, if there's a chance then I'd like to apologize," she said with a stronger voice.

If fate was kind and delivered him to her for the opportunity she wanted to take it. She would apologize and if he wanted to forgive her he could but she would leave the additional social requests up to him since he was the wronged party here. She should have kept a better reign on her temper and been more professional in the face of the situation. It sounded nice, the idea of clearing up a misunderstanding and “starting fresh” but could that really happen to her? On one hand she really wanted it to…that whole “fairy tale” feeling to it was appealing. On the other hand she hoped it didn’t because that would minimize the chances of her potentially developing feelings for him that would most likely end up hurting her.

She sighed and scratched behind her ear again. “Well, if nothing else the advice is appreciated. I’ll do my best,” she promised. She certainly felt less burdened by this problem…though more burdened by other’s but she didn’t feel as if she was ready to talk about those yet.