Hot N' Cold (Vincent)

[Vincent Meian]

Jesse could believe what he wanted about Vincent. Whenever he got a student, they were stuck with him. Aside from a bare few while he'd been teaching at Eisai (who literally could not train any further under him and needed a more experienced hand in their powers' field), he had never passed along a student for anything more than a temporary event. His students remained with him until they graduated, for better or for worse. And, like many trainers, he didn't forget about them afterward.

But he'd just have to see that for himself. His trainer wasn't going to argue on it any further.

It was amazing what actual experience could do for a person. Vincent had had night terrors in varying frequency for the last twenty years, caused by a traumatic event that he still felt guilt over to a degree. They still haunted him, infrequently, but still terrifying enough to make him jolt awake in a cold sweat even if the details were ill-remembered in the morning. It was part of the reason why he slept as little as he did - most people could not survive on seven or less hours of sleep every night. But he did, thriving easily on as little as four and rarely more than six. Nightmares, and the habits they caused, could change a person very easily.

"Dreams are a subconscious manifestation," he reminded the youth. "It is your mind attempting to process information without the barriers of thought we surround ourselves with while awake. Whatever we cannot bear to think of, we still must confront. This has been the basis for my own nightmares, at least."

He was not ashamed of his fear. Fear did not make a person less than a human being. It did not mean that there was something reprehensible about them, something that could not be fixed. It meant that there was a healthy understanding of self. So long as fear does not consume you, it is nothing to be ashamed of, nor something to be pitied in another person. Merely something to be understood, confronted and (perhaps) conquered. In time.

"Speaking of the dreams themselves is only the start." This time, he did smile. A little. "But it is a very good start."

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse’s beliefs about adults were fairly well rooted by now, regardless of how wrong they might have been. While he had to trust Dr Neville to an extent, nothing said he had to trust Vincent, nor anything he said. If he ‘acted out’ enough, even the most stubborn of people would give up on him, right? He could only think of one who hadn’t, but he didn’t want to think about the dead man right now.

Though he had had nightmares as a child, they had only increased in both frequency and depth once he had manifested. Even after he’d stopped using them actively in negative ways, like he had under Gabriel’s teachings, they still appeared. While the nightmares themselves were scary, he found the worst ones now were the good dreams. They were always realistic, and always, always something he found waking from the real nightmare. Color flushed to his cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold when he realized that among the real nightmares, there were some rather... intimate dreams. It made him feel ill that his trainer had read those, too.

The teenager also knew all about sleep deprivation. There were many nights he stayed awake as long as he could using energy drinks and coffee, until he more or less passed out for a few hours. Those were the best nights, because he was usually so exhausted his mind couldn’t muster the energy to torment him as he slept. He had the vague understanding that what he did wasn’t healthy, but it didn’t matter. Lots of things he did weren’t healthy. Though he’d asked Dr Neville about the pills to help curb the dreams, he hadn’t actually worked up the nerve to test them yet.

Jesse scowled slightly and kicked at the snow on the ground as he listened. “So, what? Burying feelings about stuff makes the dreams about them worse?” That... wasn’t something he’d actually thought about before. All the time he spent trying to bury feelings and memories of his mentor was... actually... huh. He shook his head as if that would help to clear it. “Creepy.”

He didn’t really want to talk about his sessions with Sean, because he barely liked talking to Sean himself about things. “It’s not really talking... more... showing.” He shrugged. “’Cause he’s a telepath.” A lot of the time he found it easier to project his thoughts and memories of things to the psychiatrist than actually talk about them. There was a lot he didn’t think he could talk about. “Do they keep you up, too?” This question wasn’t spoken in a petulant or irritable way. It was more... curiosity. As if in reflex his fingers curled his journal even closer to himself, the only sign he was feeling insecure.

[Vincent Meian]

Sometimes, the worst dreams were the good ones. The ones that made you believe for a few hours or even a single moment that everything would be all right, that things were different and would be fixed simply by staying wrapped in that comforting embrace. Those dreams meant that waking was the real nightmare, that you had to go back to a life that was less than perfect. Made you long for the day when you didn't have to wake anymore. It may not have been exactly how Jesse felt, but regardless it was understood.

Vincent also made no sign that he noticed the swift coloration in the boy's cheeks. He didn't know where the reaction had come from, but had a suspicion that it was embarrassment for the student having let someone he did not trust read his most intimate and private thoughts. At his age, the trainer would have felt much the same.

Simply nodding was unlikely to be what the blonde was aiming for, but he'd spoken the direct truth; fighting those thoughts and memories by burying them did not help matters. Trying to pretend they didn't exist was like ignoring an injury - the more it was shut out, the more it was left alone rather than being treated, the worse it became until it festered and caused a much bigger problem that it originally had been. "The human mind is a frightening thing," the tall man agreed at length.

It could also be wondrous in its complexity and capacity, for its depth of profound knowledge and breadth of scope. But that was a different conversation, for another day. Vincent was fairly certain that Jesse would not appreciate the philosophy lesson while walking in the cold.

"It is a good start," he assured, and his tone carried no mockery. It was good that the psychic was allowing himself to have treatment. Even the smallest steps were helpful in that regard. Once Jesse could face those memories and dreams, more progress could be made. But for now, allowing others to see them, to know of them, was a brave step. Especially for someone with deeply rooted trust issues against older males in positions of authority.

The curious question was answered without reservation. "Yes. Those nights are not as frequent lately as when they first began, however that is in large part to the treatment I received."

Honestly, he doubted that they would ever go away entirely. The event that caused them still grieved and shamed the trainer in ways that were cultural and moral, and the likelihood that he would ever shake off those feelings entirely was slim. Eventually, as part of his training, Jesse may have the opportunity to see pieces of that time, to repair the damage time had wrought on the memories despite the cost. If wiping a person's mind could cause the manipulator in question to lose memories of their own, then it stood to reason that by enhancing a past event to clarity that they could sharpen their own. That, at least, was one theory.

Though, given the fact that trust was still tenuous between the two males, happier memories would need to suffice in their stead. Vincent would not subject someone who did not trust him already to those moments in which he felt most ashamed.

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse knew that to be all too true. As bad as his dreams could be about his dad, the ones about Gabe, the real, intimate ones... yeah. Waking from those were usually cause for him to stay awake for hours, exhausting supplies of coffee or Red Bull until it was time for class. The chances of him sleeping the following night were usually slim to none as well, just to spare himself the chances of dreaming again. Maybe the pills Dr Neville had offered really did have a possibility. There had been one point that he hadn’t wanted to wake again, but that had been a long time ago. But that hadn’t been borne of dreams, but more of grief. Grief that he was fairly certain was still fueling those dreams. It was an endless circle.

It didn’t help that the nod more or less confirmed that he was right. He just didn’t know what to do with the thoughts, feelings, and memories that he tried to bury. Maybe he didn’t want his mind to work that way. If he had his way, he could just wipe his own memories and be done with it. He couldn’t miss what he couldn’t remember, right? Or fear, in some cases. Yes, it would probably change him, but so what?

... This was probably why powers weren’t generally able to be used on themselves as meta humans. Jesse would have massive holes in his memory and no way to string them back together again.

Much as the blond wanted to scoff away the assurance, he couldn’t find a single hint of anything other than sincerity. This whole thing was starting to unnerve him in a familiar way. It was exactly how he’d felt at Max’s place, before he’d run away. The sense of relaxing somewhat, letting his guard down. The notion that he was being looked out for. It was... alien. He didn’t like it, and never had. Mostly because he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for something bad to happen. It’s how it always was. Good things were only good for so long before they went south. At least in his own experiences.

That alone made him want to turn tail and leave the discussion, but he didn’t. Not yet, anyway. He still had a vested interest into how Vincent, a goddamned adult still had nightmares and how he dealt with them. “What treatment?” If it was anything like the talks he was having with Dr Neville even now, he wasn’t so sure it was going to work with him. “How do you stay awake? Coffee and stuff?” He’d never really met anyone with a similar affliction, so he was going to use this to his advantage until he couldn’t take it anymore.

[Vincent Meian]

The was some awareness in the trainer that this conversation likely wasn't helping Jesse trust him anymore. That rather than relaxing the young man, it was making him more uncomfortable, more unwilling to reveal things. That was all right - honesty was tantamount to Vincent's philosophies of life and behavior, and everything else was rooted deeply in that. If he could show that he was honest, sincere... it might help. He was rarely anything but reliable, and he always tried to be there for his students, even if they didn't want him to be.

"Psychological therapy," he answered, looking to the blonde to show that he was in every respect serious. "I was forced to confront and overcome the traumas that caused my nightmares until I could sleep restfully. It does not work for everyone, nor does it work quickly. But I found it to be very helpful."

It had taken over six years for the therapy to work enough that he could stop seeing a psychiatrist, until he could sleep soundly more nights than he startled awake. The writings in his journals helped; talking with his wife did, too. It was all about what worked and how deep the damage was. Considering the extended period of time over which his own traumas took place, six years was better than never.

"I simply do not sleep as long as many people." This was accompanied by a slight shrug. "I rarely require more than four hours each night. Some of that is self-taught; some is in reaction to nightmares. I have found that it is better to try and rest, even for a short period, than to try and avoid the dreams. They will come whether I will it or not."

Of course, it didn't hurt that sheer adrenaline pounding through his veins in the middle of the night prevented him from going back to sleep whenever the hazy memories returned. It certainly didn't help matters, but it didn't hurt the staying awake part either.

Though it would probably be seen as amiss (or misconstrued by the younger male), Vincent paused for a moment and added, "If there is something I may do to help you, you need only ask. It can be a small favor, or something more involved. My phone number is available, and my home is open should you need a place to stay away from the school."

It was this way for all of his students, but the tall man had a feeling that Jesse would need it more. Even if he didn't take the offer, the fact that it was there was important.

[Jesse Adams]

In all fairness, it wasn’t for Vincent’s lack of trying to put the boy at ease. Jesse just... reacted badly to certain things. This sort of thing was one of them. Instead of being put at ease, it did the opposite and put him on edge. He didn’t know how to react any other way, other than to expect something bad to happen. Vincent was no different.

Great. So he was still doomed to see Dr Neville. “Maybe that’s my problem.” He had fought Sean for a long time on the subject of Gabriel. His father, he had an easier time talking about. Mostly because he could pack all the venom he wanted to into the words he chose during discussion. Gabriel was different, and until recently, he had refused to open up about him. Even now, he hadn’t gone into huge amounts of depth with Sean about him, and perhaps that was the problem. Dredging up certain memories during the day made his subconscious bring them to the surface at night. If that was the case, therapy wasn’t helping. “Yeah, well, it’s not helping.”

Then again, he had really only been in it for just under a year, and only recently began scratching the surface of his issues about Gabriel. If time was what he needed, fine, but he couldn’t take what his dreams were doing to him in the meantime.

“So you’ve never... stayed awake all night?” He was hedging, simply to try to find out what was ‘normal.’ Much as Dr Neville seemed to dislike the word, he found it helpful. “I don’t sleep much either. Sometimes four hours. Sometimes less.” The only recent time he’d slept more had been when he’s been sick. At least then his mind had been busy with other things and hadn’t forced him to dream. “Sometimes none.” Admitting it was almost a tiny thrill to him, which he knew wasn’t normal in any sense of the word. How screwed up was he to get a thrill out of admitting it to someone?

His gait slowed slightly at the offer his trainer gave him. It was mulled over before he huffed out his breath. “Right. Because I need someone else looking out for me.” The offer agitated him more than was necessary, but it did. “Are we done?”

[Vincent Meian]

The expression on the trainer's face softened, even if it was hard to see. The fact that Jesse was trying proved that he wanted to change, that he didn't want this to affect him for the rest of his life. That he wanted to be a better person, no matter the cost. At least, that's how he viewed things.

"It may becomes worse before it helps," he offered quietly. "Nothing changes instantly; this will take time."

The question seemed to be leading into something else, and Vincent looked to his student as he continued explaining. That the boy tried not to sleep, admitted to not sleeping, was both troublesome and a good sign. It meant he was opening up, even to find a touch of ground that was the same between himself and another person. But it also meant that he was still trying escape his problems by avoiding them - no sleep, no dreams - and that wasn't healthy.

"I have," he answered. "It has been some time, but I spent many nights forcing myself to remain without sleep. During the beginning, I was... afraid. To sleep, to see those images and not be able to escape. But then I would sleep, and I would dream, and the cycle continued." It had been a horrible time, where the only relief came in being sedated. That first year, away from his wife, when the military had tried their best with him before handing him over still mostly broken to a woman who could not comprehend what he'd done or been through. "Once I stopped fighting and began to understand what happened, it was worse for a time... but the dreams have faded since. Having a reason to push through, perhaps, helped the most."

That was a big admission, coming from him, and realizing that his thoughts had been spoken made the older man quiet and thoughtful again. So thoughtful, in fact, that when Jesse asked if they were done that he simply snapped his attention to the blonde and stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending.

Oh. He was asking if the session was over.

"If you want to leave, I cannot stop you." Not right now, anyway; his leg was still tender and running could make him sprain the muscle again, this time worse. "However I would prefer if you continued to speak with me. You seem to have much to say today."

[Jesse Adams]

In returning to Hammel, Jesse had fought to come back to the school with that very notion. He wanted to change. So far, it seemed to be a constant back and forth battle as to whether or not he could.

“I know it’ll take time. It’s been almost a year.” And still, he felt as bad as he ever did. Well. Almost. He didn’t think he could ever feel as bad as he had after his mentor’s death.

Just being able to make some sort of connection between himself and someone else was... novel, almost. It had been so long since he had been able to make any kind of real connection like this. Well, Clement he had bonded with, but that was different. They were both children of abuse in one form or another. This was...

This was dangerously close to how he had connected with Gabriel in the first place.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one.

“So I’m not the only one.” This was said rather quietly, almost as if he was musing to himself. Whether that was in reference to going without sleep, or being afraid of his dreams, he didn’t say. “And understanding won’t help. I know why I have them.” He also understood where dreams involving his father came from. It was obvious, wasn’t it? No matter what he was doing, he was never good enough. Why else would his father keep appearing? He was that constant reminder at home that even his best wasn’t always good enough, and he had to try harder.

... This was getting too deep. And weird.

Too weird to continue. He shook his head at his trainer and stopped in the middle of the path. “No, I’m done today. I don’t want to talk anymore. Hell, I probably said more than I should have.” Without looking up again, he twisted away and stalked off, journal still held to his chest.

[Vincent Meian]

A year? Vincent thought on that. So it had. How time passed.

It marked just how far Jesse came that he allowed anyone at all to relate to him, be it another student, his trainer, or his psychiatrist. This prickly, stubborn, loner teen actually reaching out to someone else. 'Novel' may have been his word for it, but the older man thought 'promising' would be a better one. One more sign that, eventually, this boy could move on with his life.

The fact that the trainer was starting to connect on a level that mirrored Jesse's former mentor would have been worrisome if he knew anything of the boy's thoughts. Or any more of what happened in that compound outside of what was written in the dream journal. Even just with what was written in that diary, it would have given him pause and watch where he tread in that regard. He did not need to give false impressions of what their relationship could entail.

A trainer, mentor, confidant, and father he could be; anything more personal was out of the question.

When Jesse turned away and left, there was a brief moment where Vincent wanted to go after him. Instead, he waited and let the boy go. They'd see each other soon enough - there was more training later this week after all.

And, unlike after their last session, he was confident that they would be attended. Promptly.



(Fin.)