Sometimes I Get Nervous [Closed]

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath had no desire to play the part of the cobra, stalking prey and trapping it in the corner; unfortunately, that was the mental image immediately conjured when Chase moved back, away from him. Body language was quite curious that way, both evocative and revealing. Because Sean had no desire to play the conjured role, he made no attempt to close the increased distance between them. Instead, he remained where he was, meeting the other man’s eyes patiently and listened.

Nothing that Chase said was surprising, although the thoughts and feelings were no less valid for the predictability. The guilt was expected, and it was warranted; the desire to hold onto the guilt was to be expected in non-sociopathic personalities because it was acknowledgment of a gross misdeed. The desire to be punished went naturally with the guilt. The feelings that this was a gross injustice were also to be expected and fit neatly with the guilt reactions. All were perfectly natural, perfectly valid, but were also affecting Chase’s ability to cope. This concerned the psychiatrist, not the mere existence of these feelings.

The psychiatrist folded his hands in his lap once Chase had finished his litany. That was to be expected as well, given that as a culture they worshipped the concept of justice, even if it was an abstract notion that fit poorly into reality. “We live in a flawed system, and because of that, you need to remove this notion of ‘should’ from your vocabulary. I realize that’s easier said than done. But we have what is, rather than what should be. I don’t expect you to act as though nothing happened, because something did happen and to shrug it off is no healthier than it is to let it consume you. You need to learn to process it.”

Sean agreed with the underlying premise that one shouldn’t take life; that was why he had been unarmed when they went to the M.S.A.D. compound. Still, he understood that this wasn’t quite so simple a matter. He heard the other man’s thoughts and projected as well, That’s more insight than he ever had, in all of his years at Hammel and after. It’s an important distinction to remember. Gabriel Underwood would have no regrets.

[Chase Campbell]

Chase didn’t often find himself at the mercy of others. He was the strong one, at home, at school, he was the one that protected. Being on the defense, while it wasn’t new, wasn’t something he found himself enjoying. He couldn’t keep this up forever. Defending himself would only go so far. He’d seen what it had done to James during the summer. Different situations, but the same. Keeping everything wrapped up inside would be helping no one.

The trainer bowed his head and pressed his fingers together in a steeple. It was becoming a chore to keep up his bravado. How terrible would it be to let go, just a bit? Open up, finally unload just a bit of his burden. Sean had been there. He’d been there the whole time.

He smirked in a self-pitying sort of way at Sean’s comments. “I’ve processed it, believe me. I’ve processed it about six thousand times.” It wasn’t really an exaggeration, either. He’d thought about it many times, and dreamed about it even more. “How do you propose I start processing it, exactly?” It was an honest question, because he really didn’t know how one coped with the concept of snuffing the life from another living creature. At least, one that wasn’t an ant or a spider.

Sean’s thoughts weren’t all that comforting, regardless of how true they were. Looking up, he sighed. “It doesn’t matter, though, does it? He’s dead. I’m not. And I’m the one that has to figure out how to move on.” He inhaled slowly, leaning back again. “Supposing I’m more open to the idea of processing, as you put it. What… well, how do we start?” He supposed now was as good a time as any, before he really did put any more tears into the fabric of his marriage.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean and Chase had the common trait of often being the strong one. And the psychiatrist intended to take on that role for the trainer, so that Chase could ease his burden in this and focus on actually moving forward.

The telepath’s expression was sympathetic as he shook his head slightly, pointing out the folly in the younger man’s reasoning. “Thinking about it isn’t the same as processing it. Processing is thinking plus perspective plus progress. Otherwise, thinking is like trying to drive with your car in neutral; you never go anywhere and you waste so much effort.” While it might sound trite, this was the truth of the matter; emotional processing wasn’t as simple as society made it seem that it should be; progress was slow. “As for processing, there are several forms of talk therapy. We’ll have to rehash it, at a later more comfortable time, together. And then we can work on perspective shift to help you move on.”

Chase was correct in that he was alive and Gabriel was not, and as such, he had more responsibilities. However, the psychiatrist couldn’t allow him to lose sight of the fact that there was a fundamental difference between killing for joy and what had happened here. “We’ll make an appointment; it can be after school hours or on the weekends. It can be at my house if you want it to be more relaxed and more private. And we’ll talk. Step by step, I will help you with this.”

The decision, of course, was Chase’s. However, Sean was optimistic because Chase was inquiring into the process, and he surely understood that this current pace was unsustainable.

[Chase Campbell]

Not being the strong one wouldn’t come easily for Chase. He’d become so acclimatized to shouldering the brunt of the stress of the past year. His theory had been that the less James had to deal with, the easier things would be as he healed.

The trainer knew he wasn’t correct in his line of thinking. If he was, he’d probably have been faring better at this point. The car analogy made sense to him, and he sighed quietly, bowing his head a bit. His hands were held loosely as he toyed with his wedding ring. It was something to focus on that wasn’t murder. What Sean was proposing didn’t seem all that difficult. And he wasn’t proposing that they start right that second. He was aware things weren’t going to happen overnight, but it was nice to know there was a process to it. “That makes sense.” The blond continued to twist the ring around his finger.

“... After hours might be better. I don’t think I could switch gears from this to a training session.” It would be easier if he could approach this without having to think about dealing with his students afterwards. His family was one thing, but students were another. As much as he’d wanted to resist this, to carry the guilt, the thought of working through it seemed so... appealing. No more dark cloud, lessened guilt. Things getting back to normal.

“Yeah,” he finally said softly. “Let’s set something up. When are you available?” If he was going to start, he might as well start sooner rather than later. Before he broke.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath was glad to hear that the younger man was willing to continue talking with him and to seek out additional sessions. He was certain that between the two of them, they would find a course of treatment to aid the other man’s coping. He desired that for Chase, not merely as his psychiatrist, but as his friend, and as his confidant in this entire mess.

However, pursuing that course of action was one of the few areas where having a ward proved more difficult than life as a bachelor with no obligations. Sean didn’t mind, and barely noticed, having to drive L.C. to and from school and the house every day, since they had the same destinations. He didn’t mind preparing meals for two, packing bag lunches for her, and checking in with her about classes and her homework assignments. He didn’t mind writing prescriptions for her, and he dealt with her insomnia and nightmares the same way he dealt with his own insomnia. But he had less free time than he had when living alone, and he had to take that into consideration with his schedule.

The psychiatrist thought about his general weekly schedule, before pulling his appointment book from his pocket and opened it to the next week. “I have time slots available at 5:00p.m. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and 4:30p.m. on Monday. I can meet you at Hammel for those. If you want to meet later than that, we’ll need to work out doing so at my house, and that will get a little more complicated because of L.C.”

The telepath set his book back in his pocket and met the other man’s eyes. “Which would you like?”