Power Swap: Uh....Help! (Sean)

[Simon Fournier]

Simon was sure that he was loosing his mind. There had been times after 'the incident' that he had wondered if he would ever again be a functioning member of society. But this was different. He really felt that he was loosing his grip on reality. He'd tried explaining it to Saul, to somehow make his partner realize that he kept waiting for then man he shared a home with to start glowing blue and talk about physics research. He had tried to keep up with his work at the college but it was hard when every other day there was a werewolf, warlock, or worse wandering around the campus.

He was starting to think that maybe he should convince Saul to have him committed. Even when it eventually came out that many of the citizens in Pilot Ridge were having weird power related problems, Simon still didn't think he would be able to ever get his grip back on his old life.

So he'd decided to talk to someone who could help. Sean Neville was both a psychologist and a meta-human. So he seemed the perfect place to at least start. Though Simon had considered bringing Saul along, he had worried that Sean wouldn't have anything promising to say. And he didn't want Saul to have to hear that.

He knocked on the man's door and stood there hoping that somehow Sean would have a magic button to fix all this. If not, Simon had no clue what he was going to do or what was going to happen to him. 

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean Neville was not a psychologist; he was a psychiatrist. Most laypeople did not know the difference between psychologists and psychiatrists, and, as a result, he explained the difference when requested, so that he could clarify his training. Focusing on those matters had become more important than ever, when his powers had been stripped away. He could fall back on his training and tell himself that, while he might not actively have telepathy, he was still a psychiatrist, and he could live as billions of people had before him.

That only went so far.

The former telepath clung to hope that his powers would return. His migraines remained severe, and other people had developed abilities. That hope got him through the day.

Josh had been at Temple while Sean had remained home. This proved for the best, when, after opening the door, the psychiatrist found himself face-to-face with Simon Fournier. The blond was the last man that Sean would have expected to come to his home, given their last encounter.

Still, he stepped aside to allow the younger man inside. “Would you like to come in?”

He didn’t know what had brought Simon to his home, now that he lacked the benefit of telepathy. But, he supposed he could go about that the old fashioned way.

[Simon Fournier]

Simon had been so sure and so focused on the idea that Sean would be able to help that he hadn't even stopped to consider that perhaps Sean would be part of the problem. That is to say that he someone didn't expect Sean to be like every other person and affected by Simon's new-found madness.

So when Sean opened the door and was somehow not Sean. Simon took a step backwards and gasped. "You too?" he asked, his voice sounding defeated. He was so upset by this and the thought that if Sean wasn't Sean that he wouldn't be able to help anymore.

Than again, Jean Valjean had tried to help people too.

"Uh. Yes. Please," Simon said, realizing Sean/Jean had asked him a question. He took a step inside before adding. "I uh...I think I'm going...crazy."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

For whatever it said about Sean’s life and past experience, “I think I’m going crazy” was neither the worst nor the most dire statement said to him at his doorstep. The urgency and distress of the other man’s words, of course, guaranteed that he allowed Simon inside without delay. Once the blond had stepped over the threshold, the former telepath shut the door to provide them with privacy, just as he might if this had been a formal session at Hammel.

Unfortunately, in the absence of his telepathy, Sean lacked the ability to simply know what Simon thought. As a result, he also lacked the ability to see what Simon saw, to know that the blond man had started to have hallucinations similar to Benji and Levi. That would give him a starting point in trying to tease out what the younger man had experienced and how to offer proper assurances.

Instead, he had to fall back on his training and his non-psychic experiences.

That began with not offering the other man an alcoholic beverage at this hour of the morning. Instead, he asked, “Do you drink tea? I’ll brew some. Then we can talk.”

With that, he gestured for Simon to follow him, and he led the younger man into the kitchen.

[Simon Fournier]

Simon felt he was once again battling reality.

This was Sean Neville. The man he had envied because of his relationship with Joshua. The man Simon still somehow felt beneath in some way.

And yet...this was also Jean Valjean. The man who spent years in prison for stealing bread to feed his starving family. The man who cared for a dying prostitute and rescued a little orphan girl.

"I thought tea was more of an English thing and the French preferred coffee..." Simon wondered out loud. Not that he believed in stereotypes, but he had to say something to fill the silence as they walked to the kitchen. Not that it really mattered what they drank. He didn't feel that any amount of hot caffeinated drinks would save him now.

"I just...I didn't know...You know about this kind of thing, right?" Simon asked, not realizing how unhelpful he was being with his questioning. And now that he was here talking to the man, Simon was having trouble believing the idea that Sean could fix him.

"Wait, you're still a psychiatrist, right?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Once Simon stepped over the threshold, Sean shut the door and then turned on his heels.

“My surname is Irish, not French or English,” the former telepath corrected over his shoulder, as he led Simon towards the kitchen. The younger man’s exclamation was surprising, but, for the moment, he was willing to attribute it to vague knowledge of Norman/Saxon conquest and lack of familiarity with how the English anglicized Irish surnames when they took control of Ireland. Occasionally, people mistook his name for being English or French, as though being named Sean Patrick was not enough of an indicator of his family’s ethnicity. “And tea is good for calming nerves, regardless of culture.” As it was, the psychiatrist had tried to acclimate his partner to that over the past year, ever since Josh’s hypertension diagnosis.

When they reached the kitchen, Sean gestured for Simon to sit at the table. Then he crossed to fetch the teapot and filled it with water, flicking on a burner so that the water could boil.

“Of course I’m still a psychiatrist.” While his powers had aided with his practice of medicine, he had earned his credentials separate from them. Lacking his telepathy had no bearing on his license or his competence.

[Simon Fournier]

Simon was listening, but what the other man was saying wasn't making much sense. But so much wasn't making sense these days that he didn't comment on it at the moment. Instead he chalked it up to his usual way of derailing most conversations with misunderstandings and awkwardness. He'd been doing even more of that lately. Some much that he tried to avoid conversing with much of anyone besides Saul.

"I think I might need something stronger than tea for that," Simon mumbled, mostly to himself. He wasn't really serious anyways. Drinking would probably make the situation worse. He was having a hard enough time with a sober mind thinking clearly.

Simon slumped into a chair at the table, holding his head in his heads for a moment before looking back up the other man.

"Oh, I wasn't sure if jail time would affect your accreditation or whatever," he said. though it wasn't as though Sean/Jean had murdered someone. Still usually people with professions like doctors were looked down on if they'd spent time behind bars.

"But you could still help me even if you lost your license to practice...as a friend," he continued, thinking out loud. "I was always on your side with the whole bread thievery thing anyway."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean agreed that drinking would only worsen the situation. Besides, if he had managed to make it through this whole fiasco without crawling into a bottle, he thought that everyone else in Pilot Ridge could do the same. Tea would have to do.

Tea gave him something to do. He filled the kettle with water. He placed the kettle on the stovetop and turned on the burner. He crossed to the cupboard to pull down two mugs and the box of teabags. He could keep his focus this way.

Sean then grew silent as he gathered his thoughts. Unable to rely on telepathy, he had to rely on the same tools that all non-psychic people used: observation, the five normative senses, past experience, introspection, particular training, critical thinking, empathy.

It was obvious that he and Simon had spoken past each other numerous times in this conversation. It was obvious that Simon was worried, possibly about losing his grip on reality.

With who else had Sean engaged in similar conversations? Where someone obviously perceived him as being different from whom he was.

Levi Xu.

With his back turned to the blond man, the psychiatrist frowned.

He hoped that his hypothesis proved incorrect, because Hammel had never been able to adequately filter Levi’s power.

Gently, in a tone as free of judgment as he could muster, Sean asked, “Who do you see me as right now?”

[Simon Fournier]

While Sean/Jean was busy making tea, Simon found himself wishing he too had something to do with his hands besides hold his head. Maybe that’s all he need. A project to keep his mind busy. He doubted it, but he was trying to stay hopefully. For himself. For his sanity. And for Saul. His husband had carried him though so much that Simon hated to put him through another breakdown.

Simon was a bit surprised by the question. Not because it seemed bizarre, but because for once he actually felt understood. Still it was a hard question to answer. his brain was battling what he knew, well what he had known up until the beginning of the month, and what he saw now.

“You’re Sean. Sean Neville. I know that…but,” Simon sighed, his voice getting smaller and cracking a bit. “But you’re Jean Valjean. I know that too.”

He hung his head and stared at the table. This was usually the point where he lost everyone, even Saul. They started to give him strange looks and come up with excuses to get away from him as fast as they could.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Jean Valjean. That explained the cryptic references to being French.

The former telepath could work with Jean Valjean. He had read Les Miserables before and had watched a couple of film adaptations over the years. He understood the motivations of the character, and the man was considered a tragic figure and a hero of the people, far better than being some random villain or person of dubious moral character.

Far better than being a lion.

Soon enough, the kettle whistled and Sean took it off the stove, pouring hot water into two mugs. He set it back down, dipped teabags into the water, and then brought the mugs over to the table where Simon sat, sliding one across to the other man.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve heard of this before.” Had heard of it, had encountered it, had led weekly therapy sessions with someone who was convinced that his boyfriend was a superhero, his friend was a vampire, and that the psychiatrist himself was an omniscient predatory feline.

The former telepath continued to dunk his tea bag, before bringing the mug to his lips. He grew thoughtful for a moment, carefully choosing his words. “How long has this been going on?” Not necessarily him as Jean Valjean, as that could only have started when Simon arrived at his home. But, obviously, it had begun before that. Otherwise, Simon would have had no reason to seek him out in the first place.