Rewrite the Past

[Delilah Pryce]

There wasn't many who made the trust list of Delilah Pryce and those who did were almost all women. However ever once in a while there came along a guy who proved himself and Dr. Sean Neville was one of those men. Whether it was his laid back and calming demeanor and attitude or the simple fact he was a homosexual and therefore not a threat to her sexual, Delilah somehow found a trust in him, albeit a small one. When Delilah had been a student at Hammel, the good doctor was one of the few head shrinks she allowed into her mind, actually, he was the only one allowed into her mind willing.

Since coming back to Pilot Ridge a year ago, Delilah had been seen on and off the Hammel campus, but no one who had saw her had any reason to know of her criminal paste and outstanding warrants for arrest. She stayed clear of anyone who might now her well enough to become suspicious of her presence on the school grounds, but Delilah was growing tired of having the nightmares and really needed to see Sean. She knew he could help her block out the memories of her abusive past and while he was the do gooder type, she knew he wouldn't help her erase her criminal past, no she needed to find another who could and would do that for her. Sean was just the first step in creating the new Delilah and the most important.

Passing through the security post at the front gate proved easy as the other times she had come in and if her plans went well, then they would only become easier in the future. Right now though, finding Sean was her number one concern. The headaches were worse and the nightmares hit her every night and if not for the bevy of drugs she had been taking, Delilah was sure she would have ended up in a loony bin ages ago. After parking her car, Delilah sat there behind the wheel, taking a deep breath. She dug through the small purse next to her, brushing aside all sorts of pill bottles, looking for one in particular. Her favorite drug of choice was any sort of pain pill or downer which numbed her body and left her without any sort of real emotion.

Popping a small hand full of pills, Delilah tossed her pocketbook in the floor of her car and then exited the vehicle. She was dressed in a pair of faded jeans which hung off her small frame slightly, catching just on her hips. A small sized gray cotton shirt with denim jacket covered her torso and she donned a pair of old sneakers. Running her fingers through her mass of dark semi-curly black hair, she looked about the campus grounds, spying the main building which housed the staff offices. From previous trips to the school as of late, Delilah already knew where Sean's office was and soon headed off in that direction. She merited a few stray glances from students and some grounds keepers, but paid little to no attention to them. She was a broken woman on a weak mission.

The hallway leading to Sean's office was littered here and there with a few people, none which seemed to pay much attention to another stray body moving through the hallways. Delilah had learned long ago that the best way to hide was to stay right out in the open and just blend in with the crowd around you. She moved as if she knew exactly where she was going, not looking around or stopping to read any signs. Within a few minutes, Delilah was outside Sean's office, staring at his door. She didn't know if anyone was in, but didn't hear any talking. This didn't mean anything as Sean was a well known telepath and could have been sharing a conversation that way.

With a heavy sigh, Delilah knocked on Sean's door, hoping he was indeed in today and not taking a personal day. She really needed to see him and as her mind wandered and began to fill with anxiety, she knew deep down that if he was in, he would feel her thoughts long before she would know his.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had never been in the business of advertising his personal life at work; he also tried, to the best of his ability, to keep his personal lives and his professional lives as two separate spheres. This worked reasonably well, for the most part. He had friends who were also coworkers, or who were former students, but those friendships were separate from formal duties.

Of course, when M.S.A.D. had come to town two years ago and attacked Hammel, both spheres had intersected in the most distressing way possible. The telepath had never wanted to be in a law enforcement position; he had never wanted to be Robin Hood with a band of Merry Men fighting evil in whatever form it manifested. He wanted to be a psychiatrist, and he wanted to see others live safe lives with their families.

With M.S.A.D.’s defeat last year, he had tried to put the entire matter behind him. There had been the aftermath, as intense as it had been, and there remained reminders, but he did try to close that chapter of his life. Instead, he focused on all of the attendant duties under his job title or related to one of the other hats he wore at Hammel: sessions with students, faculty meetings, the upcoming Sexual Education Lecture, advising the Student Activities Council, doing research...

Meetings with former students.

Of all of the former students he still remained in contact with, or who dropped by unexpectedly to visit, Delilah Pryce was one he had considered unlikely to return. He remembered her quite vividly, of course; she’d spent enough time in his office and within mental contact with him that it would be impossible for him to forget her. But he also knew what she had been up to since graduation, considering her association with Gabriel Underwood. Considering their last encounter, he certainly didn't expect her to come to his office.

And yet...

After the knock on the door, he looked up from the files he had been organizing. With students who had graduated, he could close some files, which was what he did during the waning time before his lecture. “Come in,” he called.

[Delilah Pryce]

It was past time to turn back now, but turning back wasn't even an option to begin with. What Delilah was about to go through with was something she had been struggling with for a long time. Memories of her childhood spent at the hands of her disgusting father needed to be locked away in the deepest darkest corner of her mind, hidden away from any remote chance of being remembered. Sean was Delilah's only real option for this plan as he was highly skilled with his meta ability plus he was the only one in which Delilah had trust. If there was any meta who could pull this off, it was Sean, but it was still a long shot. Delilah had tried to hide away her childhood memories before when she was a student here at Hammel, but to no avail. Sean had tried his best, but Delilah's fears and nightmares had been far too strong. Hopefully, with her resolve even stronger this time, Sean would be successful in truly helping her.

Delilah opened the door upon hearing Sean's voice and sighed as it slowly turned upon its hinges. She wasn't sure just how Sean would react to seeing her considering the circumstances of their last encounter not too long ago. Thankfully though, from what Delilah could remember of the good doctor, he was somewhat of a forgiving man. Sure, she had thrown a knife at him, but she had made sure it was the handle which hit him and not the blade itself. Even though her contract with the MSAD at the time had specified killing Sean, Delilah had broken it and spared him, even though it was out of some weird last minute plan more than anything else. Delilah had planned at that particular moment to knock Sean unconscious and then cart him off somewhere as her prisoner to help her rid herself of the monsters which chased her in her dreams and thoughts. That part of the plan hadn't changed, it was just now she was at his mercy instead of the other way around.

Delilah stepped inside timidly, making sure to shut the office door behind her in case Sean flipped out on her and started yelling for help or some crap. Thinking more on the matter, she knew Sean to be far more professional than that, but fear had a way of making you think weird and strange thoughts. Stopping behind a chair which sat in front of Sean's desk, Delilah put both hands on its back and leaned over slightly, doing her best to look Sean Neville face to face. "Before you go calling for security Doctor Neville, please hear me out, I really need your help," she said, her face sad and desperate. Delilah's eyes were sunken in, showing the effect of many sleepless nights, not to mention the toll all the drugs were having on her.

Delilah clenched the back of the chair tightly and cleared her throat, trying to get all her thoughts in some sort of coherent order. "Look, the last time we met.....well....I'm sorry okay, it was just a contract. I begging you to help me Sean....please," she said, her body starting to shake just a little.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had only seen one member of M.S.A.D. since the battle over a year ago, and that had been Jacob Lawrence, who had come to apologize to him. Moreover, Jacob Lawrence had approached him on neutral territory and also hadn’t participated in the battle at Gabriel Underwood’s compound. Not that the telepath had been thrilled by that encounter, but Jacob Lawrence had pulled out before everything had deteriorated so completely.

Jacob Lawrence also had never thrown a knife at him before.

Admittedly, the telepath hadn’t devoted much time to contemplating what he would do if he ever saw her again. There had been so many other concerns, such as getting James and Niko out of the compound and into the caravan, such as making sure everyone was accounted for, such as driving safely to the hospital. Such as his own recovery and those of everyone else: Morgan, who had been blinded for so long, Niko and James who were suffering from trauma, Anya who had required the use of a cane...everyone who had relied upon him, even Claude who had been forced into resignation in the aftermath.

But, in what energy and time he had devoted to this thought experiment, he had never expected her to return to his office at Hammel. He certainly hadn’t expected her to shut the door, creating an atmosphere of trapping him. Immediately, he did a mental count of who was available to help him, if he had to call for help telepathically. Vincent Romanov, Clarisse, Chase...enough people who could come to the aid of a fifty-five-year-old man in case of a physical altercation. Although timing played a factor, how quickly someone could reach the door; breaking it down wouldn’t take more than a few seconds.

He was a school psychiatrist in a small town in Vermont; his life shouldn’t require those types of assessments.

The self-preservation thoughts did take a backseat to the fact that she appeared to present no immediate danger and that she all but begged him to listen to her. Followed by a non-apology and more begging.

He couldn’t say that being informed that her attempt on his life was the result of a contract and wasn’t personal brought much comfort to him. It lessened the probability of revenge as a motive for her presence, but it didn’t negate it.

It was the way she trembled a bit that gave him pause. That wasn’t the behavior of the adult Delilah he had scene, and it wasn’t often feigned by people putting on affectations around him. The same went for the disorder he sensed in her mind.

“You can understand why I’m not reassured by knowing there was a hit out on my life,” He answered, but he tentatively remained seated, not rising and backing away from her. “But I’m willing to listen for the moment.”

[Delilah Pryce]

Delilah's posture relaxed some as Sean put forth the appearance of calm plus the fact that he didn't start screaming for the security staff helped. The shaking still remained, it always did as did the headaches and feeling that she was about to explode at any moment. The anxiety and fear in Delilah's life was getting worse day by day, and the drugs weren't helping anymore. At the rate she was taking them, she would be dead in a year or two but sometimes that was a welcomed dream. However, like all humans, Alice had a built in will to survive, hence the reason for coming to see Sean.

With a heavy sigh and worried smile, Alice glanced at Sean, glad he was at least willing to hear her out. Shakily she took a seat in the chair which had been supporting her. Delilah had come unarmed believe it or not but someone like Delilah didn't need a weapon to hurt or kill you, she was a walking weapon. Her dark hair fell halfway across her face and she pulled her feet up in the chair, sort of cradling herself. Nervously, she began to bite her fingernails although there wasn't much of them left these days. Delilah had always had this worried and abused look about her, much like a stray dog who had been kicked too many times, but in these days she was beginning to look worse. Coming to Sean wasn't exactly the most comforting idea, but it was the only thing Delilah could thing of and Sean was the only person she still had any lingering trust in.

"I don't expect forgiveness, its not what I came here for anyway. Your the only person I trust anymore Sean as a matter of fact, that's why I didn't kill you last time," she said with a shrug of her small shoulders. "Its the nightmares Sean, they keep getting worse. My head feels like its about to explode, I haven't slept more than a few hours a night and I'm even starting to hallucinate. I can't handle it all anymore.....," she blurted out through a few tears, pulling her legs up tight against her chest as she began to rock back and forth. "I need you to make it all stop, to hide my memories away deep inside. I don't deserve your help, but I'm begging, I'll even pay you whatever you want," she went on, her voice cracking and her tears becoming worse. It was clear Delilah was on the verge of insanity now and might be even too far gone for Sean's help.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Being told that an attempt on his life had been circumvented because someone found him useful, even if the language was couched in trustworthiness, was less than reassuring.

And people wondered why he drank.

He had the bottle in the drawer of his desk, but that would be an exceptionally poor idea. Regardless of her assurances, regardless of the fact that he didn’t detect outright hostility or a calculated plan in her thoughts, this was a woman who had proven herself a danger to him. Imbibing in any mind-altering substance, no matter how subtle and how great a tolerance he had developed over the decades, was a terrible idea.

That didn’t mean he would abstain tonight, when safely at home with Josh. But for the moment, his natural caution and his awareness of the situation was enough to keep him from considering the bottle or the flask that Anya had given him.

Instead, he focused all of his attention on Delilah, studying her quietly while waiting for her explanation. In addition to the trembling, he noticed that she didn’t exude the same calm and haughty aura that she had during their last encounter. Also that she was biting her nails, a nervous habit, and they looked to already be bitten down to the nubs. Her reasons for visiting him had evidently weighed on her for a while, or she had experienced a relatively recent panic attack in which she had taken up the habit. Either way, this obviously predated her visit to his office.

By many, many years, given the explanation.

The telepath was quite familiar with her past; they’d discussed it many times when she was a student. He certainly understood the way that traumatic memories could affect another person, the way they plagued dreams and haunted one when alone with her own thoughts.

He hadn’t expected her to approach him to change her memories, however. He hadn’t been approached for that form of therapy in several years, partially because he didn’t advertise that aspect of his powers to the general population. His telepathy was another sense and revelation was inevitable, but few people inquired into what else he could do.

Money wasn’t the problem. The situation taken as a whole was.

However, she was crying, and Sean Neville was hard-pressed to turn away a former student in tears. Which was perhaps what Josh meant when he'd said Sean was too forgiving for his own good.

Sighing softly to himself, he nudged the tissue box across his desk towards her for her to take. “That’s a serious step you’re proposing. It’s effectively irreversible, you know.”

[Delilah Pryce]

Men were suckers for dames with tears in their eyes, a trick Delilah had used in the past, but unfortunately this time it wasn't a trick. She was emotionally falling apart day by day, unsure if each day she lived would bring another or if she would opt to just check out early. It had always been hard, the memories, which was the main driving force behind her anger and the way she just seemed to switch moods so quickly. Naturally, she let others right her personality off as just another bitch in the world, but the truth was so far from that. Once, Delilah had been a kind girl, soft spoken and eager to take her part in the world, but thanks to a nightmarish monster for a father, that little girl died broken and alone, leaving in its place yet another monster. Now though, that monster was growing old and tired and weak from all its battles against the world and itself.

Sean showed kindness instead of malice, although he did maintain a safe distance from the woman before him. Delilah did not fault him for this, she knew her actions in the world were unforgivable. Her risky bet of putting every bit of her faith in a kind Sean were paying off now. He was listening, not agreeing but listening to her proposition at least. Delilah knew if Sean agreed to help her forget the memories, the procedure would not be easy nor pleasant. However pain wasn't anything new.

Delilah slowly reached out for the tissue box Sean had offered her, not really wanting to reveal much of her face to him for she was ashamed. Ashamed that she was so broken and even more ashamed that she was having to ask for help....from a man none the less. Taking a small handful of tissue, Delilah dried her red eyes and cleared her nose, another embarrassing action, but at this point did any of that really matter. "Thank you," she muttered softly, pulling back up into her secure little ball. She had began to slow down on the crying and felt somewhat more relaxed now, not too relaxed but it was there. "I've got two steps left Sean, I'm sure I don't have to tell you what the other one is now do I? As for this being irreversible, I think that's a good thing," Delilah managed to say through sniffles and the clearing of her throat. "How far back can you go? In my memories I mean? Because there are a lot of things in there you not going to like seeing."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had always hated to see other people suffer or otherwise in distress; that had become worse after his telepathy had manifested, as he became all the more sensitive to other people’s pain. Fortunately, although he heard and noticed more easily than the average person, at least he didn’t experience it the same way that an empath did. Fortunately, as trying to maintain emotional distance and his typical calm would be all the more difficult with that burden.

And while he wasn’t as naïve or trusting as some people believed that he was, because he tried to remain calm and didn’t have much of a temper, he did believe in redemption. He didn’t believe that everyone was entitled to forgiveness, even if he did believe in mercy and justice. But he believed that most people were, morally and emotionally, capable of turning their lives around through contrition and devotion to good deeds. He also fully acknowledged the role that abuse and other traumas played in the development of one’s personality and moral compass.

All of that was in mind as he listened to her explanation, as he watched her slowly lose her composure: the tears and the shaking which were evidence of cracks in one’s emotional armor. All of that contributed to his willingness to listen and to the mental deliberations he was engaging in at the moment.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, almost automatically. He had always been polite, and it took a lot to rid him of his manners. He watched her calmly from across the desk, not passing judgment on her for needing to dry her eyes; that was one area of life where he wished more people felt comfortable, and he didn’t consider it a sign of weakness to have basic human emotional needs.

“I can imagine what the other one is,” he replied with a nod. He didn’t want to know what the other one was, because he was tired of illegal conduct; he was tired of a crooked system, and he was tired of the fallout from M.S.A.D. “Given the depths of my imagination, I would advocate against it, but we all know that none of this can play out in the court of law.” Because of how complicated the matter was.

The telepath then spread his hands. “I can go back as far as your memories go. And I’m sure that I wouldn’t like much of what I saw.” Between what she had been up to since graduating, and from everything they used to discuss here in this office, when she had been a student, he was quite sure of that. But nobody came to him because of happy, comfortable memories.

[Delilah Pryce]

Delilah was a ball of mixed and confused emotions. She was glad that Sean was willing to help her but at the same time she was afraid because she was going to have to let down that protective wall she had built around herself. Of course this was Sean and not some totally random stranger, a man she had some trust. The fact he had not reached out for help at the sight of her went a long way in this meeting and helped reassure Delilah that he wasn't going to hand her over to the authorities first chance her got, but that fear still lingered in her mind.

Delilah sat there, curled up in her tight little ball, listening to Sean and trying to find that place of calm. In her pocket was a bottle full of random pills, the only safe haven she had in the past years. However, Delilah knew that the drugs were destroying her liver and if she kept up using it was only going to get more painful in her life. She resisted the urge to take a handful of pills, the urge being almost more than she could handle.

With a huff, Delilah spoke, "I want everything before Hammel gone or blocked out or whatever it is you do. Everything from Hammel on was of my own making and I can live with all of it," she said, trying to muster up some form of courage in her voice, but failing in the act. Delilah was through with being a monster or rather having to face that monster. Perhaps with her nightmarish memories strangled and locked away, she could also lock away that horrible person she had become and finally let a bit of her true self out in the open. "When can we start?," she asked her, letting her legs uncoil and her feet touch the ground. Given her small size and frame, Delilah had to lean forward in the chair to accomplish this.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

That was quite a tall order. While it was within Sean’s powers to do that, it would take time, concentration, and care to do so. There was also the ethical quandary involved, given that one’s childhood played such a large role in shaping one’s personality. It was a matter that the telepath had discussed at length with his mentor, when Robert had been alive, may he rest in peace.

It was easier, morally, to agree to suppress memories of an abusive childhood than it was to suppress memories of crimes. He also wouldn’t agree to do that, and so it was for the best she hadn’t requested that of him. It also demonstrated a willingness to live with what she had done, and that showed maturity.

The telepath was silently contemplative of what this would entail, as well as reflecting on the ethics. This was a prime situation where he would prefer to have Robert to consult, but his mentor was gone. The only other person he discussed matters with openly was Josh, and his partner wasn’t aware of any of this backstory, and nor would he be. The telepath had resolved to take this to the grave. It shifted the moral weight to be entirely on his shoulders, but it was fairer that way; besides, he could never betray other people’s confidences and this didn’t belong to him alone.

Finally, he said, “To do what you’re asking is risky. It would result in unwinding large portions of your personality structure, which is possible but difficult.” They’d already discussed how it was functionally irrevocable, so he wouldn’t repeat that. “It isn’t something to be done lightly; it also isn’t something that can be done quickly.”

If he rushed the task, it would be done sloppily, and that would be psychologically damaging.

Sean clasped his hands in front of him, bringing them up with index fingers steepled to rest against his lips. “I have to draft up a consent form for this, and I’d want you to review it and think about it. It has the warnings and side effects. I’d also need time to prepare for it psychologically and physically; this can be mentally draining.”

After another moment, waiting for her to absorb that, he asked, “Are you free on weekends?”

[Delilah Pryce]

It seemed Delilah's gambit was about to pay off, to her surprise. She suspected that Sean might be breaking some of his own personal rules concerning his ability and for this consideration, Delilah would repay him. She might have come off as some savage, and while she had taken many lives and possible ruined families, Delilah still had some professionalism about her. She wasn't a serial killer, she enjoyed her kills most of the time, but she only killed based on contracts and dire emergencies. She had a concept of conscious, although really lacked it herself. She knew Sean was a man of emotion and did have a caring quality about himself for others, which would make changing Delilah a very complex decision.

The thought of her personality changing, while in the back of her mind, never really seemed to cross the major scope of her plan. Who and what she was now was a result of the nightmare her childhood had been and with it locked away, just how much would she change? Hell, would she want to change? Part of her wanted to continue on down the road she had been on for so long, but that road was tiring and only ended in certain misery. Perhaps a more tempered and restrained version of herself might not be so bad. It would mean making fewer enemies and who knew, maybe help her in making more friends. It would be nice to have others around which brought joy instead of pain for once. She might even like to find some sort of family to fit in with as well. There were others out there like her, abused and hurting, looking at the world through malicious and pain filled eyes. If Sean could pull this plan off, who knew what creature Delilah could and would become.

Just how long all this would take brought some worry upon Delilah. Suddenly, she found herself full of anxiety once again. Her chest was hurting and her breathing took thought. The back of her neck grew hot and she felt like throwing Sean's desk across the room, even if that was physically impossible for her. It was almost like going through some sort of withdraw, which she was in a way considering she had been cutting back on the drugs she had been taking in an effort to make herself better. "Consent forms aren't necessary Sean, its not like I can drag you into a court of law or anything. Besides, if you mess up and kill me, kudos to you, you'll still be helping me. As for weekends, I'm free any one of them if it means you'll be helping me. As a matter of fact, if you so intent on consent forms, how about a contract instead its how I operate. You carry out your end of the deal and we'll leave my contract with you open, as a payment, after all, I'm a woman of considerable talents," she said with that hint of a sadist smile coming back to her face.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Fortunately for Sean, he wasn’t an empath, and thus he didn’t experience her anxiety as his own. He detected the anxiety through the course of her thoughts and subtle changes in her breathing and body language, but he didn’t have to deal with the emotion itself. Fortunately, because he needed to approach this in a calm and rational fashion. Poor decisions were made when overwhelmed by emotions, particularly negative emotions.

Poor decisions were also made when approaching matters as quid pro quo when they needn’t be.

As such, he shook his head at the suggestion that they make a contract instead of a consent form. “I realize that this won’t result in going to the police, or a lawsuit or ethics investigation. That said, I’m still a medical professional, and I operate within the realm of informed consent. I can’t make contractual promises, and I need a consent form for my own peace of mind.”

He was unapologetic for that, and his posture, expression, and tone of voice conveyed that. He wanted no mixed signals about this matter. These were the necessary terms for him to agree to do this for her.

“As for the rest of it,” he continued, seeing the smile that touched her lips and finding it too sharp for his comfort, “I’m not worried about accidentally killing you, and I have no intentions of purposefully doing so.”

Ethical and moral implications went so much deeper than the loss of life. The loss of life was terrible, but it wasn’t the be-all, end-all of potential problems. Tinkering with her memories in such a way would inevitably change her personality; they had discussed that. What precise form that would take and how that personality would react to her adult memories couldn’t be calculated with precision. He could make an educated guess; he could do everything in his power to minimize transition difficulties, but the human mind was the most complex entity in known existence.

“I also can’t sign a contract for the same reason I have to have a consent form.” This was how the profession operated, and it was a function of his ethics. He would do this because he would be relieving pain, ending potential danger, and she wasn’t asking him to conceal any illegal activity on her part. At the same time, he wasn’t allowed to moonlight as per his Hammel employment contract, and he wasn’t looking to supplement his income, either in violation of that contract or under the table.

“But I do accept favors from friends.” Those were never the subject of contracts. And, he presumed, she wouldn’t be in a situation where she had to spare his life, if she was turning over a new leaf.

“Saturday mornings would work best for me.” He had no duties at Hammel on weekends, and Josh spent Saturday mornings in Burlington attending Temple with his mother. That would get his partner out of the house, and also meant that Sean wouldn’t have to account for his time. “I’ll need some time to prepare for this, but would two weekends from now work for you?”

[Delilah Pryce]

Delilah wasn't sure how to react to Sean's rejection of a contract between them, an open contract at that. Her abilities made Delilah very sought after for the sort of less reputable business deals she was associated with and so having someone blow her off like that just stunned her. Delilah wasn't used to dealing with those like Sean, those who actually had a heart and cared for her well being. His rejection of her offer of a contract put further trust in him though. Delilah knew then and there that she had made the right decision in coming to Sean which the small smile on her face shown. It would be a long road Delilah figured, but well worth the travel and as far as pain went, well, she was used to pain.

Delilah simply nodded her head in agreement to Sean's demand of a consent form. She still didn't understand his reasoning behind it, but if it got him to work with here then so be it. For Delilah she would still owe Sean for this undertaking, even if things went sour. He was willing to try and that was more than anyone else in her life was offering right now. Like it or not Sean Neville, Delilah was an ace up your sleeve, and hopefully one you would never find a need to use. "Draw the papers up or whatever it is you need to do Sean and I'll sign them. If it works then great and if you end up killing me, then that'll work too," Delilah said rather grimly. For her, death was just another thing in the world to deal with and when you had seen as much death and suffering as Delilah had, then death really wasn't scary anymore. The fact he mentioned her as a friend went a long way, whether Sean knew that or not. It was nice to be thought of in that manner and hopefully after all this was over and Delilah had rearranged her life, she might be able to visit Sean as such.

Pulling herself together as best she could, wiping her eyes with her small worn hands and clearing her throat, Delilah stood. She was weak from so many nights of unrest and improper eating and wobbled a bit. "Thank you Sean, even if things don't work," she said, holding out her small hand to him for a handshake. This lone act meant more than a million words. Delilah had a resentment and fear of men and that meant she didn't touch them or allow them to touch her so this extended hand meant so many things to and for Sean and no doubt her would know this as well. "Saturdays work fine for me doctor. Just let me know when and where our first session is and I'll be there," she said, still standing there, weak, nervous and barely shaking.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean didn’t want to dwell on the possibility of death, given what had happened with Chase and Gabriel. He remained unconcerned about that possibility; a list of other psychological problems were the warnings he actually placed in his consent form. Psychological damage was a remote possibility, since he was an expert in this field, but that was the purpose of informed consent. He would do everything in his power to minimize potential damage and to maximize success, but ethically, he couldn’t make promises. He also didn’t want to joke about the possibility of harm, however remote.

Not that the comments were wholly surprising, and he made a note to himself about further therapy for depression if not actual suicide ideation. He could also research a few medications before their next meeting.

“I’ll have the papers ready for you within the next week,” he promised. He still had his standard forms from private practice, since those templates had been too valuable to discard. He would simply have to find them in his study at home, update them accordingly, and then go over them with her in detail, so she knew what she was signing.

The telepath also rose when she did. While she looked somewhat more composed than she had been while sitting, he wasn’t entirely convinced that she would be fine to reach the door or the front desk on her own. And since she had sufficiently set his mind at ease about a potential attempt, he wasn’t concerned for his personal safety; this was entirely for her behalf. He was prepared to help her to the door if necessary or to catch her should she stumble. When she reached out her hand, he took it in his far larger one for a handshake.

He remembered what they had discussed those years ago in this office regarding her past and her trust issues. Sean understood the significance of the gesture, and this was one of the reasons that he was quick to take her hand, beyond mere politeness. He met her eyes as he shook her hand, and he was careful not to hold on for longer than she was comfortable. “I’ll call as soon as I have precise details,” he promised. He would have to double check his partner’s schedule to make sure that they could have several hours of uninterrupted time. One he had spoken with Josh, he would be sure to call Delilah.

Who was still shaking and looked to be in no position to walk unattended; this was why he had stood in the first place. “Let me help you to your car,” he offered.

[Delilah Pryce]

Sean wasted no time in taking Delilah's small hand into his larger one. It was clear he understood the magnitude of this gesture and how much restraint and courage it was taking for Delilah to not jerk away from him. At his first touch, Delilah flinched, not enough to pull away from Sean but just a small bit, enough to show her fear. She had no real reason to fear Sean physically or in any other matter, it was all because he was a man. Delilah's father had ruined her for life in this manner, but Sean was about to help Delilah change all that. Sean had shown kindness, even after the way Delilah had assaulted him in the past, not to mention the names she had called him back when she was a patient of his. Sean was a true professional and knew what it meant to show compassion to those around him. Delilah had some small respect for the man because of that, hence her choice of seeking him out for all of this.

Despite the signal coming from her brain to jerk away from Sean's grasp, Delilah found the smallest bit of comfort in this briefest of moments. If Delilah had been lucky enough to have had a father like this growing up, how much better off would the world have been. How many lives had she ruined just because her father had chosen to be a monster instead of a protector? Odd how one man could shatter the lives of so many strangers and how one man like Sean could bring hope to so many in return. Why couldn't have Delilah had a true father instead of the demon which spawned her?

Delilah pulled her hand away from Sean, nodding to indicate her understanding of all the things he had just said about drawing up the papers and what not. She hugged herself as she drew her arms in and around her torso, her gaze drifting downward. Delilah's chest grew tight from the anxiety of the moment and she began to feel as if she was going to pass out. However, Delilah pushed herself to remain conscious. She had what she needed back at her secret hideaway and would soon lose herself in that drug induced wonderland.

As Sean spoke one more time, Delilah snapped her gaze to his face almost instantly. He was offering to escort her to her car. The offer seemed given out of worry for her own safety instead of just worry for the people in the school. Sean was seeing the weakness in Delilah instead of the supposed danger she posed. So confusing, Delilah was unsure of what to say or even do at this point. One had to understand, Delilah knew very little of this sort of treatment from anyone, save a few she had met in her past travels. Sean was willing to help her with her mental problems sure, but this....this small offer of an escort to her car was something else entirely. The world was beginning to seem less cold and careless more and more these days for Delilah. That was a comfort for sure, but it brought confusion as well. "S-Sure...," she half whispered while nodding her head with the smallest of smiles barely visible on her face.