Doctor Doctor! Give Me The News! (Dr. Neville)

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The psychiatrist had no intention of making her feel bad, which was why he had waved off the need for an apology. Truthfully, he didn’t condone the particular prejudices that were leveled at psychics, but he also knew that most reactions were unconscious, kneejerk ones and that those could be controlled through exposure. Additionally, she had a great deal with which to cope at the moment, and there had to be a certain amount of forgiveness given to others for how they thought. After all, not all thoughts translated into actions, and actions intersected with reality more than thoughts did, at least for the general population.

For that reason, the psychiatrist also wouldn’t inform her that her inner mantra was unnecessary. If it brought her comfort during this first session while she coped with learning about his powers, then he would let her have it. There would be future sessions where she could be informed of the folly of that exercise.

“Don’t thank me,” Sean replied. He wanted her to understand that she was entitled to this; it wasn’t, and shouldn’t be, contingent on his moods. “All sessions are confidential. That I have more awareness than some other professionals doesn’t waive that right. But I hope that helps to make you a bit more comfortable.”

The other comment caused the merest twitch of the telepath’s lips; he was well-aware of that fact. More than four decades of telepathy and awareness of how he was treated as a result made him keenly aware of that fact. It didn’t mean that he tried to call attention to it. “No, but because it isn’t that interesting, people eventually stop thinking about it. They get used to the fact that I have it, and that there’s nothing to be concerned about, and then it ceases to matter. But I realize that takes time.”

As for the threat of powers and gossip, it was a bit more difficult than Sean wished, or than he would have said a year ago before his last sexual education lecture. Although that problem had been confined and most of the fallout had stopped. “There shouldn’t be bloodshed from either; we try to keep a peaceful atmosphere here.” They tried their best.

“I would like to see you once a week at a consistent timeslot in the afternoons, after class. Or in the mornings before class, if that would be more comfortable for you. After a few sessions, we can reassess needs from there.” He offered her a gentle smile. “Does that sound all right to you?”

[Angela Chambers]

While it was only very slightly comforting, Angie smiled and nodded. Normally she would’ve spoken, verbally telling him that she was comforted by it. But she saw no reason to lie. Especially when she considered that he probably knew the truth that she was only very marginally comforted by his promise. Or oath perhaps? Because he was a doctor after all. And there were laws that protected patients. So legally, he couldn’t. Not that she was calling his character into question. She just thought it was a good incentive.

Had Angie been paying attention, the kind of attention she normally pays to other people, she would’ve noticed the twitch and she would’ve immediately regretted what she had said. But she didn’t, too busy wishing she were somewhere else. ‘Uninteresting’ wasn’t exactly the word she’d pick to describe it though. Eventually, when she got over the initial fear, she would become fascinated by what he could do. If for no other reason than being a young girl solely concerned with what other knew and thought about her. “Ok. So with time it’ll get better.” She nodded, mostly talking to herself.

He managed to get Angie to crack a smile. Which was something. She was beginning to think maybe, just maybe, having to see Dr. Neville wasn’t going to be awful. Possibly even tolerable. And then he said once a week, making Angie cringe internally. “I suppose. Um... Afternoons, if that's alright.” She said, figuring she didn’t actually have a choice in the matter. “Is it just going to be like this? Talking? Or… Are there going to be… goals set for me to accomplish?”

She didn’t really particularly like the idea of either, pretty sure of what exactly she would have to talk about. And she was sure goals meant breaking out of her shell and talking to people, which wasn’t appealing either. But she’d do what she had to, to make her time at Hammel easy. Easy as in flying under the radar.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean took no offense from her train of thought. While he wouldn’t comment either way, he happened to agree with her in that regard. While a professional oath and professional ethics should suffice for not taking advantage of patients or their secrets, self-regulation wasn’t always sufficient. When it wasn’t, the law provided an adequate remedy and an additional layer of protection.

The psychiatrist nodded in agreement, speaking to offer an additional boost of reassurance. “Yes, with time it will get better.”

“Afternoons can be arranged,” he replied. Afternoons tended to be more popular for sessions than mornings were, although the psychiatrist did have several students with standing morning appointments. He worked with the availability of student schedules, as well as his other commitments. The specific agenda of sessions was more complicated to address than mere scheduling. “Talking is usually the best starting point, although there’s nothing wrong with setting goals.”

He offered her a gentle smile while still meeting her eyes. “I’m sure you can think of a few things you’d like to achieve by the end of the year.” He had his own thoughts for incremental progress, but he also understood that such progress would be incremental. As such, there was no reason to put pressure on her during the first meeting.

Likewise, he didn’t expect her to become a social butterfly; he expected that of nobody and only grew concerned on that front when there were indications of bullying or some sort of self-sabotage of a social life. After all, he had survived Hammel, none the worse for wear, while having far, far fewer friends than he did as an adult or as a college student. Many students were fine with small social circles.

His concerns were about her well-being; he wanted to help her purge her family’s poisonous metaphobia from her own personal beliefs. He wanted to help her develop a positive self-image and to help her overcome her childhood trauma. Sean was confident that, given time, they could do all of that and more.

[Angela Chambers]

The question she really wanted to ask was whether or not it would get any less weird. Talking with a complete stranger about things she would rather forget wasn’t exactly high on her list of fun things to do. But she saw no need to be rude. Plus, in a way he’d answered it by assuring her with time it would get better.

She nodded. Afternoons were better for her. Strictly because they provided her the most free time. And doing something, anything, even having sessions with Dr. Neville, was better than wondering around the school with nothing other than her thoughts. “Afternoons it is then.”

“I’m… Not really sure.” Wasn’t that the point of these sessions? To get ‘better’? She had thought there’d be something. Exercises perhaps? Not like real exercising obviously. But homework, for a lack of a better word.

“Truthfully Dr. Neville, I don’t think there’s anything I need to talk about. I’m perfectly happy just going about my business. So goals, or even talking, just seem kind of unnecessary to me.” Granted, she knew not everybody who was in her situation felt the same as she did. Sure, perhaps some wanted to talk about certain things. But she didn’t want to.

“I don’t mean for that to sound rude. It’s just that I’m perfectly fine.” She chewed on her right index finger for a moment. No, she wasn’t fine. It was better to say that she was though. "So, are the sessions really essential?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Afternoons,” the psychiatrist agreed, before he wrote a note in her file to that effect. They could schedule consistent, weekly sessions, and he was sure that she would be better off for it, even if the adjustment took a while.

Unsurprisingly, since she had little experience with the system as a whole, and particularly with how he operated, she appeared uncertain of what she hoped to accomplish, and perhaps as to what was possible at all. That was to be expected. Time and exposure would help her grow accustomed to him and to his methods. Sean smiled gently at her. “That’s fine. We can see where we are next week and then go from there.”

Next came the equally-expected attempt to undermine scheduling a session for next week; it as a common response, and the psychiatrist couldn’t fault her for that. However, he had also been doing this job for over two decades, and had been a psychiatrist for nearly three; it wasn’t that easy to convince him otherwise. Particularly not given what he knew from her file and what she had confirmed today, through her words, through her thoughts, and through her body language. “The sessions are necessary, and I ask that you indulge me. I promise you they won’t be bad. After all this one was fine, wasn’t it?”

As he had already assured her, he didn’t bite; with time, he was convinced he would be able to get her to open up a bit more. Then, they could work together on helping her accept herself and the situation, and they could undo some of the damage that her family’s poisonous attitudes had done to her perceptions.

[Angela Chambers]

Yes, Angie would prefer afternoons. But after a thought about it, she figured most people probably would. There were few kids her own age that liked to wake up earlier than necessary. “Unless mornings are easier for you. A lot of people must prefer afternoons. But I can be a morning person if needed.” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to convey that she could easily do one or the other. That is unless she could talk him out of the appointments all together.

But with him already making plans for what he thought they could do with next week’s session, she doubted convincing him otherwise was a possibility.

For a moment, Angie was horrified at the thought that Dr. Neville had thought she’d been saying this appointment was bad. Apparently she hadn’t been doing quite as good a job as hiding her reluctance as she thought. “Oh no Dr. Neville. That’s not what I meant. Not at all.” She said, her words coming out rushed together as her face flushed a shade of red. After taking a breath, she corrected herself, “You seem nice enough Dr. Neville… It’s just… I mean… I’d hate to think of you wasting your time.”

With a sigh, her shoulders slumped. Would she ever be able to say things right… the first time? “Surely there are students here with more… Going on in their lives.” She wasn’t exactly sure how to phrase. And she doubted ‘bigger problems than mine’ was the right way to end it.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean shook his head, assuring her that he didn’t prefer mornings. “I have a number of available time slots in the afternoons.” Most of his sessions were only a half hour or forty-five minutes, and most of the students he saw only needed to see him once per week. It was the rare person who required more time than that – and one such person was graduating this year. “One of the nicer aspects of my job is that I have a flexible schedule.” He could do paperwork in the mornings if he had no sessions. And since this was a middle school and high school, students had free periods when they came to see him at all hours of the day. It was manageable.

The psychiatrist then offered her a gentle smile. “This won’t waste my time. I appreciate your concern about trying to conserve resources for others, but this will be time well spent for both of us.” Of that, he was certain, even if he was equally certain that it would take time for her to agree with him.

“There are students who are in great need of meeting with me,” Sean agreed, as that was betraying no confidences as he didn’t give any identifying information, and because she would be exposed to the rumor mill soon enough. “I can find the time for them as well as for you. Nobody is deprived.”

He worked hard to make himself available, ensuring that nobody was deprived.

After consulting his schedule, he selected a day with several free slots. “How do Tuesday afternoons sound?”

[Angela Chambers]

Angie smiled slightly and nodded. She supposed in a way, he worked for himself. Even though technically he worked for the school. But it wasn’t as he was a teacher. He could make up his own kind of schedule. “Well then afternoons then.”

It seemed as if she had no choice. She’d tried talking herself out of these appointments. Not that she had had any hopes of it actually working. Dr. Neville was a professional after all. And obviously an intelligent man. A fourteen-year-old girl being able to talk her way out of something he insisted on seemed unlikely to happen in her opinion. But she had to at least try.

With a little smile, almost turning her resistance into a bit of a joke (all in an attempt to lighten the mood, I assure you), she said, “Well, should you ever need to stop somebody’s appointments, Dr. Neville…” But she didn’t finish, figuring he knew where she was going with it.

“Tuesday afternoons sound… fine." She assured him with a nod. “Will that be all for this week then sir?” Trying to be discrete but failing, she glanced around the room for a clock. Surely their time had been met now, right? It had felt as if she'd been here hours. Though, she doubted that were the case.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Afternoons it is.” Sean flipped through his schedule and began to pencil her in for Tuesday afternoons as they had agreed. One of the aspects of managing his schedule that he liked best was that he could assign times without the use of a middleman; it was more efficient, and it also allowed him to be more accommodating.

And while he did try to be accommodating, at the end of the day his job was to tend to the mental and emotional wellbeing of the students, even if they didn’t want him to do so. As such, he had to be firm in insisting that she attend these sessions with him. He was sure that Angie – unlike some of the other students – would come to accept the situation and the positives which came along with the therapy.

The psychiatrist offered her a warm smile in response to her offer. “That’s quite generous of you, but I assure you that isn’t necessary.”

He then nodded affirmatively in response to her question. “That is all for this week, unless there’s something else you would like to discuss?” He made the offer, but he didn’t expect her to take him up on it. “Otherwise, I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

[Angela Chambers]

Angie nodded in agreement. She’d be sure to jot it down herself the moment she was out of his office. And their next meeting she would be on time too. It was rude to keep one waiting. Andthis meeting hadn’t been too horribly bad. Excuse her for being hesitant in using a kinder description. She was sure, like Sean was, that she would eventually come to not mind their meetings.

Standing up, she gave her head a little shake, but smiled as she did so. “That’s… quite alright. We’ll want something to talk about something next week.” In a hurry to leave, she went straight to the door. But realizing she was being rude, she turned back. “It was a pleasure to meet you Dr. Neville. I’ll see you next week.” And then she left, quietly shutting the door behind her.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean was sure that she would make a note to herself about their appointment for next week. If not, he could always send for her, either by sending a message to her teachers or to Dorothy up in the dormitories; as a last resort, there was the security team, but he wanted to avoid that. He realized that she was uncomfortable with the notion of these appointments, and using security guards to bring her (should she forget their appointment) would only strengthen the impression of these as punishment. That was to be avoided.

Still, he was confident that, with enough time together, she would grow comfortable both with him and with the arrangement. They could then make progress to undo some of the emotional and psychological damage that her family’s toxic views had created.

He didn’t mention that there was plenty to talk about. Instead, he simply let her go with a parting smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you too, Angie. I’ll see you next week.”

When she crossed the threshold and left his office, he made a note to himself about her appointment next week – and the week after that and the week after that, through the rest of the semester – so that the bloc was reserved for her. He then added a few notes to her file and set it aside. Until next week.