Panic Station (Kalli)

[Jesse Adams]

Today was not going Jesse’s way. Not at all.

He had woken up to Ty having kicked an obscene amount of his litter box pellets out onto the floor somewhere in the night, which were now scattered all over his floor. He’d woken up late, so he hadn’t even had time to clean them up. Couple that with it being both a training and a session with Dr. Neville day, and the memory manipulator wasn’t a happy camper from the start.

Not to mention, he couldn’t seem to feel cool, no matter how many layers he stripped off.

He’d bombed a test during first period, and by the time lunch had come around, his throat felt like someone had jammed a fire brand down it and held it there. Much as he’d tried to drink cold soda at lunch, it had just seemed to ignite it further. Water hadn’t helped either, and by the time he got to Vincent’s office, he was in no mood to go through with the session.

It was hard enough to want to train when he felt... well, not like this. Today, it was far, far down on the list of things he’d rather be doing with his day. His cheeks felt stupidly flushed, and even though it was on the cooler side within the office, he still felt warm in his thin t-shirt. Hell, he didn’t even want to talk, let alone do anything with his powers. Vincent was simply given a look as the blond dropped his bag to the floor and flopped himself into the chair opposite the desk. Things had marginally improved between him and his trainer since that first meeting. It had taken weeks for him to even consider trusting Vincent again, but he had slowly come around. At the very least, the man knew what he was doing from a training perspective.

It took him a moment to muster the courage to speak, and when he did, he probably sounded as awful as he felt. “What’re we doing today?”

[Vincent Meian]

Slowly, but surely, the sessions with Jesse had been having progress. They weren't going to move out of the office any time soon, nor were they going to start work on other students, but slowly the trainer had been able to allow the memory manipulator to reach more deeply into the past - into more vivid memories, things that would seem very strange if they were tampered with. Not so far back as to... no, not that far back, but things as distant as a year ago, and they were still going along well. As for Jesse talking more, that was still sporadic and dependent on his particular feelings that day, but it seemed he resented the training sessions a bit less than he used to.

Small steps.

When the teen entered the room without even knocking, it somewhat startled the taller man - normally, the blonde's petulance and attitude was reserved for talking about himself or his previous powers training sessions (the latter Vincent tried to avoid anyway because, save for understanding where the training needed to be picked up from, it wasn't really important). But the glare and throwing of objects was odd enough for him to quirk an eyebrow at the sulking form in front of him. Something was off.

The raspy nature to Jesse's voice added another layer of concern and study to the trainer's countenance, and he leaned back in his old chair to study the boy without making him nervous. Flushed cheeks, it looked like he was sweating a little, and his voice was scratchy - had he gotten into a shouting match? Not uncommon or unexpected, and it would account for the sulkiness. Of course, he might have been feeling ill, not that he expected the young man to admit it. Maybe they could just talk for a moment and see.

"A progress report seems fitting for today," he replied, making sure he maintained a relaxed posture so not to worry Jesse. "We pushed a bit harder in the last session - I wish to make sure you were all right. Have you slept well?"

[Jesse Adams]

As hard a time Jesse had had trying to trust Vincent, he was slowly starting to come around. They had had no more incidents, and his trainer seemed relatively flexible when it came to training the blond. While he still didn't enjoy his sessions, he didn't outright hate them, either. For the slight trust he had placed in Vincent, he had been rewarded with more trust than he felt he deserved, but there it was. He had been working hard at manipulating deeper memories recently, but today he honestly didn't feel up to it.

He also didn't feel up to dealing with any paternal feelings his trainer dared to throw his way. He'd seen it every so often in his face, and he was in no mood. Hell, he might just up and leave the session. His dorm seemed like a better place to be at the moment. For all the sleep he seemed to have gotten the night before, it was apparently for naught. He was still tired.

The idea of a status report was a lot more appealing than real work. Relaxing slightly, Jesse leaned back against the chair for a moment. Why in the hell was the office so hot? He sighed and pushed his bangs back from his face before leaning over to dig in his bag. Drinking water hurt like a bitch, but he kept hoping it would quell the fire, not fuel it. He took a moment to just eye the bottle before taking a drink and visibly wincing.

Yeah, it wasn't working.

The question made him shrug to delay having to answer. Of course, it couldn't stand for long. Jesse tried clearing his throat (ow) before answering. "I guess so? I don't remember dreaming last night." It was a slight improvement over his normal nightmares, even if he felt tired now. "Is that good?" Hopefully if he could keep Vincent's focus on that, he could just get through this and go.

[Vincent Meian]

So the balance of trust was a little (a lot) tilted. Given that Vincent even had the smallest trust from Jesse meant something. He worked very hard not to frighten the poor boy unnecessarily, even making sure to keep his tone and postures more in mind. He was always seating during their sessions, and rarely leaned across the desk to keep the space distant. It seemed to be helping.

As to the struggle of keeping his parental instincts from interfering, well... he supposed it had to show sometimes. Even someone with emotional walls like his couldn't keep everything off his face. And the longer he trained here at Hammel, the harder it seemed to get.

The wince was definitely cause for concern, especially because from the outside the blonde looked almost fine. That, as he wasn't sure such a display of vulnerability and pain was normal. Though the trainer hadn't seem any bruising, and there had been no reports to him of fighting on campus, he felt certain that Jesse was the type to hide pain and suffer quietly. Not because he didn't want to worry people - because it was none of their business.

Hey wait, that sounds familiar.

Conversely, the report of not remembering seemed to be a relatively good sign. Vincent had worried that more than a little deeply that the young man had nightmares from how tired he seemed some days. Like today. But he didn't really feel like Jesse was trying to lie to him. So, he nodded. "The majority of people do not remember the majority of their dreams," he answered. "Usually, it is a sign of restful sleep.

"However, you do not appear rested." This last bit was said with a note of concern he could not entirely hide - he was now certain Jesse was abnormally flushed and sweating, as the office was cool and they'd been sitting long enough for any side effect of exertion to have started wearing off. Though he wasn't sure exactly what was wrong, a parental instinct told him that there was certainlysomething out of place. "Is there something the matter?" he continued. "Are you feeling poorly?"

[Jesse Adams]

Vincent's efforts were helping, in some small way. If Jesse could get beyond the skittishness he tended to feel around his trainer and actually focus on the tasks at hand, he was able to train more effectively. So far, though progress was often slow, at least it was progress.

Vincent was also correct in that the teenager hadn't been involved in fights. Much as he wanted to track down Clement's assailant, he hadn't. It would only get him put back on heavier probation, and that was something to be avoided. If he was feeling aggrivated, he'd just take it out on one of the punching bags near the gym, or the running track outside.

"The majority of people aren't dream manipulators," he grumbled, trying to ignore the furious sting in his throat. He vividly recalled dreams upon waking consistantly, and often they were cause for him to stay awake the remainder of the night. He was used to feeling tired then. Being tired now made no sense to him. He'd slept. At least nine hours, too. Maybe he was just overtired. Who knew?

The concern quickly made Jesse sit up straighter in his seat, determined to look as normal as possible. He was much like a cat in that regard, doing anything to hide weakness or illness. It was a defense he'd had to learn from a young age, to keep his father appeased. "I'm fine," he all but snapped, trying to steady his rough voice. "Just hot. What else do you want to know for the report?" He was damned if his trainer was going to get hung up on stupid details.

[Vincent Meian]

"This is true," Vincent conceded. "To me, that makes your lack of dreams ever more positive." People had dreams; it was inevitable if one slept. Remembering dreams was the subconscious' way of telling the person someone that it felt needed to be addressed, so if there were no dreams to be remembered, there was nothing (currently) troubling the subconscious. It was actually the most straightforward thing about the human brain there was, aside from fight-or-flight mentality.

Despite the tone Jesse had taken, he was certainly not fine. And as with his own children, the trainer wasn't going to let it go. Sickness and injury needed to be tended to, lest they become worse through neglect.

And Vincent refused to be neglectful.

"Perhaps we should walk instead," he interjected calmly, standing with an unhurried unfolding that was almost graceful. "That may help with the heat." He didn't look at Jesse deliberately as he moved towards the door and opened it, letting in a brief flush of cooler air from the hallway, and motioned for the younger man to walk through ahead. If he walked out first, the blonde would probably be less inclined to follow, so the trainer allowed him to make up his own mind on the subject.

Well, sort of.

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse's side effects rarely allowed for him to have a restful night. Dreams became far more vivid than he remembered them being prior to his manifestation, and at least once a week he was left waking feeling drained in every possible way, only to find himself crushed when he realized the dream was just that - a dream. "I don't know if it was on purpose." Last night he'd gone to sleep like usual. Late, and watching Netflix, not expecting a solid sleep. Instead, he'd crashed like the dead.

The suggestion of the walk made the teenager suspicious. Training sessions had yet to breach the office walls. Why now? "I'm not a dog," he griped in a sarcastic manner, keeping his shoulders squared so as not to wince in pain. "I said I'm fine. Let's get the report over with."

In other words, no, Vincent. He isn't falling for it, and he's not moving.

[Vincent Meian]

At the question, the trainer shrugged nonchalantly. "You have never seemed quite this discomfited before," he offered in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. "I would need to move to the maintenance room to lower the thermostat regardless, so this would save us time." He wasn't lying, even though that was indeed a reason for them to walk towards the main office. He had a suspicion that Jesse would not react well towards being told to see the school doctor.

Besides, even if he wasn't falling for it, one way or another they would leave this office.

"If you would prefer to stay locked in this room while I am gone," he added dryly, "I will likely return in no more than twenty minutes." Granted, there was really no way the trainer would leave his student locked in his office for twenty minutes, even if the kid was a stable individual. It was more the implied threat of confinement that he was aiming for.

[Jesse Adams]

"I'm not 'discomforted', I'm just hot," he argued. "It's not against the law, is it? Maybe I ran here." He was reaching, and every word was turning from ache to near agony, but he couldn't help it. The more difficult he was about it, the better his chances of just getting through the lesson. At least in his mind. "Don't bother. It's fine." He'd just deal with his own personal heat wave that had nothing to do with his throat, which would go away all by itself. Obviously.

"Fine, then I'll stay." Being cooped up alone was no problem to him. Being cooped up with no escape route and his trainer would be more concerning. "Or, we finish the report and call class done early?" His hands curled around the arms of the chair, the flex of his fingers the only real sign of pain he would display. Hopefully, Vincent opted for the latter.

[Vincent Meian]

If Vincent were an American, his response to Jesse's retaliatory excuses might had been something along the lines of a resoundingly scornful curse word. "If you had run to be here," he retorted, "which I doubt because you do not seem to enjoy your lessons, you would have become calmer as we spoke rather than more agitated." Well, not strictly true - the blonde had an awfully prickly personality.

"The only way that we will finish this session early is if you are not feeling fit to continue," he continued, scolding despite himself. He would not let this boy shut himself off from everyone and potentially get the whole school sick because he was too stubborn to see a doctor. (Hey, that sounds familiar.) He also honestly did not expect Jesse to make the trip on his own, even if he did admit to being ill. He seemed like a person that avoided being touched at all costs, and doctors had a habit of poking people quite a bit.

Vincent also expected his students to follow his orders, even if they were worded as suggestions - it was respectful and appropriate to do so, given the relationship established. If Jesse didn't cave soon, there would be... minor consequences.

[Jesse Adams]

No, Jesse did not enjoy his lessons. Any of them, in all fairness to Vincent. While lots of things got on his nerves, Vincent had never aggitated him in this way. Scared him, yes, though he'd never actually admit it, but this was different. Why was he pushing this? "Maybe I was running late," he all but hissed, though he instantly regretted that. Holy mother of God his throat was on fire. "I'm not aggitated." Just irritated. There was a difference.

Huh. He was being given an out. That was... unexpected. Jesse gave his trainer a wary look before making his decision. "Fine, maybe I'm not. Does that mean we're done?" It seemed a little too good to be true, but hey, he'd take it. After grabbing his bag, he got up and headed to the door, more or less brushing by his trainer. Yes, he figured they were done.

[Vincent Meian]

The lie was as plain as the nose on his face, as the saying went. Vincent didn't retaliate against it, merely stood in stony disapproval at the argument - arguing further was useless when they both knew it was a farce. The cracking rasp in the younger male's voice all but confirmed it on its own, let alone in conjunction with other signs. Fright and nervousness had much different signs than those his student was currently displaying (as those particular sign had been seen frequently this past half-year), and what was abnormal was usually not a good thing.

As Jesse brushed by, the taller man gave a slight tug on his backpack - not enough to stop him, but as an attention grabber and a warning. "If you are not feeling well, procure a note for me from the Infirmary," he stated firmly. "After that, you may return to your dorms, and I will tell Dr. Neville of your illness."

As much as the signs were clear that the boy was sick, Vincent was still unconvinced that it was truly serious. However, any illness became very contagious in close quarters - if Jesse even had a mild flu, he would spread it like wildfire in the dormitories. The school doctor and nurses needed to be informed so they could expect an outbreak or stop one from forming.

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse honestly wasn't trying to pick a fight with his trainer. He was simply doing what he had been conditioned to do from childhood. Weakness had to be hidden, otherwise it was just asking for trouble. Okay, he wasn't expecting Vincent to, say, pin him to the wall or backhand him for admitting to being not 100% well, but it was still self preservation in his mind.

The tug made the teenager stop dead for a moment. While not a direct touch, it had caught him off guard. Inhaling sharply, the instruction made his body run cold for the first time since he'd woken up. There was no way he was going down... there. He'd rather face a full day session with Dr. Neville, or fight off a shark with his bare hands, than go and deal with the medical staff.

"No," he muttered, just barely loud enough for his trainer to catch. "It's just a goddamned cold." With that, he began to stalk down the hall, unwilling to care if he got in trouble for this.

[Vincent Meian]

While there had been times where the trainer had been forced to subdue students lest they harm themselves or others, Vincent had never hurt one of his trainees without cause. Jesse, while petulant and sarcastic, was not a threat for the most part. Physical confrontation was too much in situations like this. Sure, he could block his way or keep a hold on his backpack to grab the boy's attention and make his intentions clear, but striking a student without threat to himself or others was... wrong.

The stiffening of the teen's shoulders showed that the veteran had caught his attention, and that was enough for him. His hand stayed on the backpack, not pulling, but not letting go yet either. It turned out to be a relatively smart move (from his standpoint) since Jesse had rebuked the instruction and was trying to escape off towards the dormitories again. Not releasing his grip (and thus tugging without relent when the blonde tried walking away), the older man retorted, "Then it will be a quick visit. You have the chance of making others ill if you do not seek attention."

Given how many students had low-functioning immune systems because of their powers, that could be devastating. It could not be allowed to happen because of foolish pride.

[Jesse Adams]

Despite Vincent never actually striking him, Jesse was always cautious around him. Especially in the beginning. In his mind, his trainer had the very real potential to do so, and for any number of reasons. Failure to succeed in training. Talking back. Accessing the wrong memory. His out of control nightmares. The list stretched on and on, which usually caused him to tread carefully. Just... not today.

He was still insisting, which did not bode well for the teenager. Of all the possible things in the world to fear, this had to be the most childish. As a result, very few people knew he was scared. Those people were either thousands of miles away, or didn't speak to him anymore. Or both. Either way, he knew his trainer didn't know, and would probably think of him as simply being difficult.

"I don't care," he practically squeaked as his voice started to go. Logic was giving way to instinct, and right now every cell in his body was telling him to get the hell away from Vincent.

So, he did as instinct told him. He pulled his arms through the straps of his bag and doubled his effort to get down the hall.