Need a Lift? (Sean)

[Vincent Meian]

Though the afternoon wasn't as cold as it had been the past few days, there certainly was a bit of a chill in the air. The sky was clouded over, and though they seemed dark and ominous the scent of rain wasn't anywhere to be found. The was little wind, and most of the snow was piled up along the edges of walkways leading out of the school and towards the rest of the town of Pilot Ridge.


The weather didn't much bother Vincent, although the cold did tend to make him ache a little recently. The injuries he'd received on Monday were slowly healing, and though he was dissatisfied with the rate at which his body fixed itself, he couldn't bring himself to ask Nik for help. She'd already done enough to fix the problem. So, for the last few days, he'd simply use homeopathic treatments; an ointment on the skin to promoted healing and a small degree of numbness, and bandaging the injuries to keep him from moving too much. The bruise on his face looked worse, though that was likely because he'd done nothing for it. At least he wasn't in the hospital.


Shrugging on his jacket, the trainer locked the door to his office and walked out into the mildly white wonderland of winter in Pilot Ridge. The school would break for a couple of weeks during the holidays, and though he wanted to give Lei space the ex-soldier was nervous. Two weeks was a long time; perhaps he'd show up during their scheduled sessions anyway, just to be safe. He wanted to check on the boy, but at the same time crowding him would be far more painful than leaving him alone. It was infuriating, really.


Normally, Vincent walked to work in the morning with his wife and children and went home at about roughly the same time. Today, however, there was some sort of study group in the library, Appoline was visiting a friend in the dorms, and Nik was finishing up reports that had fallen behind with all the excitement in the last week. So today, he walked home alone, dressed in black jeans and an olive green military jacket to keep out the cold. He carried nothing with him, as his files on students were safer in his office (now that the lock on the window had been fixed), and as he walked he looked up at the cloudy sky. There was something he was forgetting, but he couldn't place what it was...

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean drove; moreover, he liked driving. He found long drives restful, and his solution on more than one occasion to interpersonal problems involved long drives while talking through situations. Despite living in New York City for several years, he had always liked driving, and he had earned his license as soon as he was old enough. He’d been born in the suburbs, he had gone to school in a small town, and then owning his van was a novelty in college that gave him and his friends access to areas outside of the City.

In the winter in Vermont, which lasted for seemingly half the year, his car had studded snow tires to prevent accidents. While they could be a little load on the road, the studs proved invaluable when ice and snow blanketed the town.

His last appointment had ended abruptly, and when it became evident there would be no follow-up, the telepath chose to leave for the day. After locking his office, he went out to his parking space, retrieved his car, and began to drive. Due to the snow, he was particularly cautious; he couldn’t grow complacent, event with the studded snow tires.

While he drove, he caught sight of Vincent, and he slowly came to a stop a bit ahead of him. Waiting for the trainer to catch up, he lowered the window and asked, “Do you want a ride home?”

There was no sense in the younger man walking home in the snow, not with an available driver and vehicle. Sean was in the habit of giving rides when he could. When Anya had taught at Hammel, he drove her frequently in the poor weather. He still drove Josh on days when the younger man didn’t want to ride his bicycle.

Besides, he and Vincent had unfinished business.

[Vincent Meian]

To say that he was surprised by the vehicle stopping a ways in front of him would have been an understatement. Very few of the staff at Hammel were close enough to the trainer that he would ask them for a ride home, and even fewer had cars that would accommodate his tall frame. Additionally, walking was something the Japanese man had become accustomed to; one did not simply drive anywhere in Tokyo. It was day-to-day habit, and very rarely was that habit broken.


Once he was aware of the driver, however, the gesture made sense. Sean was one of those people that helped wherever he could, and even in the most simple of offers the man never backed down from his word. It was an admirable thing, and the trainer gave a brief flicker of a smile at the kindness. It also reminded him that with the hectic nature of the past week, he'd neglected to schedule another appointment with the psychiatrist or even update him on the status of the events with Lei.


"You have my thanks," the younger man replied, opening the door with a bandaged hand. It took him a moment to fold himself into the metal contraption, but it seemed that this particular vehicle at least seemed able to accommodate people of his and Sean's height. Closing the door sharply behind him, the trainer lowered the scarf around his lower jaw slightly and gave the psychiatrist a small smile. The bruised half of his face was outside of view momentarily, but he was sure both it and his bound hands had been noticed. The other man was more perceptive than people tended to credit him with.


After buckling the seatbelt, Vincent relaxed back in the seat for a moment before asking, "Will you require directions? I do not believe you have been to my home before."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“You’re quite welcome,” Sean assured the younger man. Driving to another part of town was very little inconvenience, and it was better for him to take the detour than it was for Vincent to have to walk home alone in the snow, particularly with his injury. He didn’t mind doing so at all.

“There’s a handle underneath your seat. If you want a bit more leg room, just press down on the handle and lean back with the seat.” The telepath offered him a smile, as he added, “The default setting is for my partner, and he’s a bit shorter than you.” He was almost a half foot shorter than Sean, and that made a difference with car seats.

Sean shook his head. “If you give me your address, I can find it easily enough. I know Pilot Ridge like the back of my hand.” To illustrate this, he lifted one hand off the steering wheel briefly, before setting it down. He’d spent half of his life in Pilot Ridge, most of that time as a driving adult and someone who lived off the Hammel campus. The town was small and easily manageable.

Besides, he always had telepathy to help him, should he need directions without asking for them.

Once the trainer was properly buckled, Sean resumed the drive. No matter the location of Vincent’s home, they had to go down the current street for the moment.

[Vincent Meian]

The seat had been a little forward for the trainer's taste so when the offer came for him to move it back into a more comfortable position, the Japanese man uttered another verbal thanks and felt for the handle. It had been where Sean had said, and after a short moment the seat rolled back. Its furthest setting was just enough (as usual with vehicles fitted to his height), and once he was sure it was settled, Vincent buckled himself in. The motions and pressure were hard on his battered torso, but he made no complaint.


Despite being friends with Ari, the younger man had never heard that particular saying before. He gave the man next to him a mildly curious look, decided that it was meant as a literal analogy and moved on. He gave the street address of his family's new home, and as the vehicle began to move, the soldier spoke again.


"I am sorry for my actions and temperament when we last spoke." He did not try to place blame elsewhere for his mindset either; his temper was something he'd always had to work with. "I understand your position, and taking my leave in such a manner was very disrespectful."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean knew that residential neighborhood quite well. He nodded a single time to acknowledge the address as given, as well as to communicate that he could find it, and then he mentally mapped his route. It wouldn’t take too long to reach, even with the slow speed at which he drove with snow on the ground.

The telepath didn’t interrupt Vincent as he apologized. It was rude to do so, even if it was to inform the other man that he hadn’t been offended. They came from different cultures and different family upbringings, which meant that there had be to give-and-take in terms of communication and social customs.

Here, he could wait until the other man had said his piece.

When Vincent finished, the telepath said, “You’re forgiven.” That was formal, since the trainer could be rather formal in these situations. He continued, “If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t all that offended. I’ve had conversations end far worse in that office over the years.”

That wasn’t an excuse, but he hoped that communicated how he interpreted no bad blood on his part, and assumed the same for Vincent.

Briefly, Sean looked over at the man beside him, before returning his attention to the street before them. “It’s a difficult situation,” he added.

[Vincent Meian]

The formality the telepathy had used was comforting in its own way, and Vincent settled further into the seat once forgiveness had been attained. Sean never seemed to hold grudges or deny apologies when they were given freely and earnestly. Even still, he'd felt nervous because there was no assurance that the older man had to accept his rudeness, and to assume would have lessened the gesture. "Regardless, I must admit that I lost my temper," the younger man replied, his tone one of respect for his colleague. "It is... something I have fought for many years, and I did not wish to put you at its mercy."


It meant a great deal to him that the psychiatrist had granted leniency in the face of outright insubordination. He would most certainly have had to do more than just apologize were that event to have occurred at Eisai.


The trainer paused as he thought over Sean's words, seeking the proper reference for them. Deciding that the older man likely mean 'was' and 'is' at the same time, he nodded. "Yes. There is still much to be done, however the majority of the issue has been resolved."


He had been straightforward and honest with Lei, almost brutally so. The resulting emotional turmoil within the boy had caused its own set of problems, but Lei had returned to classes on Wednesday after a full day of rest. Supposedly, he was feeling better physically, but Nik had not seen him since his departure two days ago despite having appointments with him every morning. It worried her, and it worried him.


"What do you wish to know?" The question was said with a certain gravity and with much of the emotional weariness the ex-soldier had been feeling since the event. It was an offering of knowledge, as he knew the older man would wish to know the true events, however he would not speak outside his privilege as a trainer. Facts he could give; insight into Lei's mental state was something he would not speak of indirectly. Even if he was to be the boy's trainer no longer, Vincent would not violate that trust.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had a complicated view of interpersonal relationships, much of which was influenced by the insight granted to him by his telepathy and his psychological training. At the core of his beliefs was the idea that people should communicate openly. There were times when more affirmative action was necessary, particularly with students which was why he doled out punishments. He preferred affirmative punishments, ones that invested the student back into the Hammel community or that might impart knowledge, as opposed to punishments that were purely punitive.

With adults, honest conversation typically imparted all that needed to be said, and there was little reason for further action. Unless someone did something egregious, as Brendan did, but the underlying breach had nothing to do with offense and everything to do with professional ethics, basic morality, and poor judgment.

The telepath didn’t enjoy thinking about that situation. Unfortunately, since Vincent’s situation held parallels – although with a better ending, it seemed – avoiding the memories was impossible.

Struggling with one’s temper, much like jealousy, was something that Sean understood in the abstract but less in practice. Unlike with jealous, Sean had been angry before. But learning tricks to keep it in check during daily life was foreign to him; that was simply part of his demeanor. “I appreciate the consideration,” he remarked, since he took the other man’s explanation to contain the idea of having attempted to spare him unfairness.

The vague description of the situation with Leiken was more positive than it could have been. However, it lacked details which made a frame of reference impossible. Since Sean didn’t want to pry mentally, he would have to ask outright. Fortunately, Vincent gave him that option by granting permission, thus sparing the need for that first question.

He could move on to others.

“How did he take it?” That had been Vincent’s primary concern, he knew, and thus it was what Sean wanted to learn first.

[Vincent Meian]

"Not well." The answer was short, but it was only the beginning. Vincent let out a soft sigh, likely one that he didn't intend to let escape, and closed his eyes to remember properly. Not that he could forget in any case. "First, he tried to deflect the conversation. When that proved unsuccessful, he feigned ignorance. When my words finally became clear to him..."


This proved the hardest part, and a pang of guilt and anger at himself needled at the instructor once again. Still, he continued. "...He smiled at me. He told me that he knew." There had been so much pain and loss and despair in that single expression that the trainer forced himself to shut it out before he unintentionally forced it upon the telepath. Just because he had seen it did not mean that Sean had to. With a breath to calm himself, he relayed more of the story.


"I do not know what he thought or felt after that," he stated, being clear that he would make no suppositions about the boy. "What I know is that his abilities manifested without control again. It is currently the worst attack against himself that we have documented here. He screamed and collapsed, and when I attempted to call his attention back, to focus his mind..." The trainer held up his hands, the bandaged appendages saying all that was really necessary. "But I have felt pain before. I could not let him kill himself." Not over my mistake.


"I forced him close, embraced him as I had before, when he panicked the night he fell unconscious in my office. It had worked in the past, and I had hoped it would work again. It did, though at a small price." Once again, he gestured with his hand, though it was towards his face and neck. He would have suffered much more hurt if it had meant saving his student's life, and he did not regret the injury. The only regret on his mind was the fact that he had waited so long.


"The damage was done, however. Lei quickly fell unconscious, and Urswik-sensei had already arrived to investigate. We took him to the infirmary, and Nakia tended to his wounds. The rest she will be able to tell you, as I... fell asleep a few hours after." He was not particularly proud to admit that, but it was a fact and needed to be said. Unlike his previous visit with the psychiatrist, everything that happened was being told, even if it was uncomfortable for the Japanese man to do so. Thus, he spoke, regardless of his own discomfort at doing so.


"I have not seen him since then," he concluded distantly. "I have continued to schedule our training sessions on their proper days, as I have neither received a transfer report nor heard from Lei himself that he does not wish to have me as his trainer any longer." Though why would he? "However, he has not come to them. There have been no meetings, no notes, no emails. I do not know what he is thinking or feeling." Though I can surely guess. "I only know that the matter has been resolved, if not as painlessly as I would have hoped."


The younger man was quiet for a long moment after that, as if all his words for the conversation had suddenly been used up and there was simply nothing more he could say. There were a good number of thoughts that shuffled under the surface of his mind; regret, blame, and concern, being the most prominent. Still, he said nothing else, either vocally or by projecting his thoughts. He just listened to the rumble of the engine and the road beneath the vehicle, idly wondering if this was even the right thing to do.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean listened quietly while the younger man described the events of telling Leiken why the situation was untenable. He was unable to give Vincent his full attention, since he was driving a car, and thus he had to rely on more subtle cues: the occasional nod of his head, the fact that he didn’t interrupt, his serious expression – to convey that he was listening attentively.

Not well was an understatement, given what the trainer described.

Yet, even with all of that, it remained better than what could have happened. Given Sean’s tenure at Hammel, and the vivid imagination that he had developed, in part due to his telepathy, there were several worse outcomes that he had pictures. Not that those were of any relevance or comfort now, in the aftermath of events. Since those events had been disturbing, problematic, and led to injury both of Leiken and of Vincent.

When the other man finally finished, the telepath’s immediate response was, “I know that must have been very difficult, and I’m sorry to hear about both your injury and everything that happened with Leiken. Although I’m also glad to hear that you are both recovering, if not fully fine at the moment.”

Then, after saying that, he added, “From what you describe, I might have to begin sessions with Leiken to tend to his emotional health. While I know that you have been helping him with that, his behavior is indicative of requiring the extra attention, rather than training alone.” Sean shook his head to himself. “Particularly in light of everything.”

It was also something that would need to be discussed at the next staff meeting. And Yvette would have to be alerted if she had not been already.

“And how are you feeling?” He asked then, turning briefly to glance at Vincent before necessarily returning his gaze to the road. There would be plenty of time to focus on Leiken, but the trainer’s physical and emotional wellbeing were just as important.

[Vincent Meian]

There was something bittersweet and rueful about the expression that drifted over the trainer's face; he didn't smile, but there was a hint of a dark humor there despite himself. He said nothing to his colleague's words, merely nodded in assent and gratitude for the care, his own eyes fixed on the road ahead.


"I have discussed that possibility with him before," he answered, glancing to the telepath at mention of counseling sessions. "To say he lacked enthusiasm would be an understatement. He does not trust you, though for reasons which I cannot guess." There were few reasons he could see why anyone wouldn't trust Sean, despite the nature of his powers; the man was a professional when it came to secrets, and his silence was all but assured if you only asked for it. He would listen without judging, and he would help you find the answer you needed rather than give you the one you wanted. "If he will still speak to me after these events, I will suggest it to him once more."


The sudden shift to his own care caught Vincent off-guard momentarily. He paused, returned the glance, and considered the question thoughtfully before answering. "I... have not considered that," he replied, a hint of epiphany in the younger man's honesty. "My thoughts have been centered on ensuring the boy's well-being. I am in physical pain from the event, though I have been in far worse before."


He considered his words again, then continued, "I blame myself for much of this, for not reacting sooner. I waited too long, and much of the fault for this outcome lies with me." He had not expected things to escalate so quickly, nor was it expected how Lei would respond. There had been so many factors involved that he did not foresee, and many more that he had not considered. There was no reason for him to consider 'what if's' now, however - what was done was done, and now the aftermath needed tending to.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean was unsurprised to hear that. Given their single interaction in his office, the telepath had seen firsthand that Leiken was displeased with what he had to offer. Of course, the boy had come to his office seeking information that he couldn’t divulge and also made plain that he had a short temper for being denied. That was a reason he required counseling. “I would prefer he come willingly or under advise, so if you can float the idea again, I would appreciate it. However, based on his conduct and this recent incident, I have the authority to mandate meetings.” He met Vincent’s eyes briefly to convey the implication there.

Sean shook his head, disagreeing with an unspoken conclusion. While it was important for Vincent, as the adult and the person in a position of power, to accept responsibility for his actions, he could not do so to the detriment of his own health. The telepath came from a religious tradition of self-flagellation, and he knew that there was a certain human instinct to punish oneself, but he didn’t abide by that in himself, and he didn’t abide by that in others. “Regardless of your guilt, you still need to take care of yourself; your physical health, and your mental wellbeing, are both important.”

The telepath wanted Vincent to believe that deep within himself. While guilt was valuable as a learning tool, it could also become toxic and paralyzing in large doses. Sean had plenty of experience with that in his personal life.

[Vincent Meian]

Vincent nodded, understanding implication completely. Lei would need the emotional and psychological support - something that he himself could not provide in this circumstance without causing more harm than good. Even if they would train together again, it was unlikely that the boy would continue trusting him as he had before. "I will be sure to deliver the message," he assured the older man, "and I will inform you if he is less than accepting of such an offer."


The was a pause, and then one hand came to massage the trainer's temple. He knew Sean was right intellectually, though there were cultural and personal issues preventing much of that. Honor was a strong trait in him, and there was something inherently unacceptable about letting his wife be harmed for his mistake. Although... "...There is a clinic in town, I believe," he answered slowly. "Lei told me of it before that afternoon. Apparently there is a doctor there with his same ability. I will likely make an appointment within the next few days, if only so that I may use my hands more effectively."


He said nothing on the concept of his mental state - guilt was one thing Vincent was accustomed to dealing with in large quantities. Once he was assured of Lei's recovery, his own guilt would be dealt with swiftly. There were other things he'd felt guilty for as well, and those no longer plagued him. Things would get better.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Thank you, on both counts,” Sean replied. If the trainer could ease the process of bringing Leiken to him, then this would go more smoothly. Likewise, if he was unable to do that, the psychiatrist would appreciate the warning. Leiken required a double-edged sword: delicateness mixed with bluntness.

The telepath glanced at the other man’s hand briefly, assessing the damage to the minimal extent that he could. It had been a while since he had needed to handle that type of damage, and the bruises, bandages, and intervention from Vincent’s wife obscured that already hesitant assessment.

“Regaining any function in your hands would be desirable,” he agreed with a single nod. Sean wasn’t a hypochondriac, although he had dated one. He didn’t expend a great amount of mental energy on hypothetical games of which he would find more distressing to lose. Refined motor function of his hands would be more difficult than requiring a wheelchair, in terms of his job. That was the same for many with comparable work tasks.

“I hope the clinic is able to help you. Is it the one run by Owen Roberts?” Sean had recently learned of that clinic, and he hadn’t heard of another. From what he had heard, the man was quite competent, and Vincent would be in good hands. Doubly so if he had the same powers as Leiken, as he should be able to undo what the boy had done, if it could be undone.

[Vincent Meian]

"Indeed," Vincent mused, glancing to one of the bound appendages. Typing rather than writing had been helpful, but there were still many aches that caused other problems. He still could not carry much weight, and his fingers were still very sensitive, despite the balm he used.


"Yes, it is," he replied, looking to the other man. "From what I can gather, the man is very skilled in his field, and Nik demands that if I will not take her help that I should speak with someone." This was not an uncommon argument with them, though the trainer viewed it rather fondly. It was one of the many signs that they cared for each other. "I was told to call him this afternoon, and so I shall do so."