Baseball Cap of Shame (Sean)

[Cee Cohen]

Cee was wearing a hat.

This would've made anyone who knew him or even had a passing acquaintance with Cee's personal habits very suspicious. Cee didn't wear hats. He didn't like them. He said they impeded what little vision he had and got crumpled when he was lying on the floor. Besides, he much preferred to run his hand through his hair when he was exasperated, tired, puzzled or just all of the above. In fact, Cee only owned one hat--an old Giants baseball cap that had been given to him once by an exasperated girlfriend who said she needed the bright orange to be able to spot him in a crowd and drag him back to where he was supposed to be. It clashed with everything--not that Cee cared--and it generally sat on a shelf in his house, neglected and ignored.

Cee was wearing this hat because, while cleaning out his closet, he'd come across some materials that he probably shouldn't have owned in the first place. The kind that went boom. Cee hadn't had any explosion problems in month, and he'd been curious and interested in trying them again.

And he had. He'd lost his eyebrows doing it. Hence, the hat. Cee wasn't embarrassed... okay, he was a little. But he wanted to keep it from his landlady long enough for him to find another apartment. Which he'd probably need anyways.

He was in the staff lounge to see if he could make his sandwich edible when a tall figure entered. Cee recognized the shape of Sean Neville--not many as tall as him, after all--and offered a wave. He felt less like running at the sight of the psychiatrist now that he had an appointment and felt he was getting on the right track, so he offered a wave.

"Hey Dr. Neville. Here for lunch too?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had, in fact, come to the staff lounge in order to enjoy his lunch. Specifically, he had come to the staff lounge in order to enjoy coffee with his lunch, because it had proven already to be a long day, and he was only halfway finished with his tasks. Coffee would complement the lunch that he had packed for himself.

He was en route to the coffee pot when he caught sight of Cee (although he had sensed the younger man before entering), and he returned the wave.

“Yes, I am,” he replied, and then held up the mostly empty pot, which meant that he had to brew more. “Can I pour you a mug?”

He didn’t actually need to hear a reply stated aloud. One of the aspects of the telepathy, one on which he tended to rely subconsciously, was his knowledge of other people through idle mental scanning. It was what allowed him to host with a minimum of questions.

The same aspect allowed him awareness of Cee’s predicament without asking questions. Rather than remarking on the younger man’s hat, he said nothing, and simply heard what was on the front of Cee’s mind. Something about not having eyebrows. And an explosion.

That certainly wasn’t right.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” The psychiatrist would try subtlety first.

[Cee Cohen]

A staff member who was acquainted with him was actually offering him coffee! That was exciting. And exceptionally rare. It was not a usual occurrence for someone to actually invite Cee to enjoy some coffee. In fact, it happened only a few times in his life. And for Sean to do so! But he was tired and going to behave himself, so it couldn’t do…that much harm, right?

“Yes, thank you very much.” He offered another smile to the other man. Then he turned his attention back to his sandwich. It might’ve been beyond saving, but he was determined to try so long as it didn’t smell bad. He’d almost forgotten about the hat, although there was still a burning smell in his nostrils from the explosion and he really needed a new place. So when Sean asked his question, he was caught off-guard.

“Not for certain, no. Although—do you know of any places that have a rental available? I can’t afford to purchase a place but I thought a new rental might be a beneficial change of pace.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had enough confidence in the computer teacher that Cee could enjoy a cup of coffee in the staff lounge without descending into the state of nature. As such, the older man began the task of brewing another pot, so that they could enjoy fresh coffee, instead of the stale remnants from whoever had last been in the lounge and craved a caffeinated beverage. “It should be ready in a few minutes,” he promised, and then moved to sit across from Cee while he waited for the grounds to percolate.

The cryptic statement certainly painted a vivid image when coupled with the other man’s previous thought about an explosion. The telepath could only imagine what, precisely, Cee had done that caused a problem in his house sufficient that he needed to find new lodging, either because it had become unlivable or because he had been tossed out for violating his lease or neighborhood association and zoning laws.

“That depends on why you need the rental,” the older man replied. If Cee had done something foolish or dangerous, and he was liable to repeat that behave then Sean could not in good conscience foist him upon a friend or a coworker. It was time to nudge beyond subtlety. “Did something happen?”

[Cee Cohen]

Cee nodded his thanks and settled down into the chair, folding one leg over and letting it jiggle before he realized what he was doing and stilling it with a slightly sheepish smile. He was going to have coffee for once. He knew it was stupid—like a kid excited over Christmas—and that he was an adult. Besides, he’d known Sean for years. And sometimes seeing him reminded him of how he’d used to act. And that always made him be a little more…not necessarily formal, but less scatterbrained. More controlled. “Thanks,” he said cheerfully. “I appreciate it.”

“Ah…” And, like that, Cee was back to being a sheepish teenager. He looked down, ran a hand through his hair to ruffle it, and coughed. “Well, sort of. There’s a compelling hole in my wall at the moment. And, ah, possibly ceiling. I am paying to have it repaired—“ again “—but I doubt I am welcome in my current living condition and should probably look into other options. Nothing essential. Is that, ah, coffee ready?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Nothing essential.

Cee had confessed mere seconds ago that there was an enormous hole in the wall of his home, and that he was, most likely, not welcome during the repairs...or possibly afterward.

For some baffling reason, the younger man didn’t believe that finding alternate lodging was essential.

It was the middle of winter in Vermont. They didn’t live in sunny Acapulco, where living outside was a sustainable option in the absence of shelter. This was a serious problem.

Additionally, the computer teacher still had no eyebrows. Something that, while concerning, was not necessarily indicative of wrongdoing or health concerns on its own. The presence of a giant hole in the wall of his house demonstrated that the lack of eyebrows could not be viewed in isolated or as a coincidence.

The telepath checked the pot and then gestured for Cee to hand him his mug. As he began filling it, he asked, “What caused the explosion?”

The question served to demonstrate why pretense was a waste of time for both of them. Even without his powers, Sean could see through Cee’s vague answers; the younger man was not a convincing liar. With the telepathy, this was a farce, and not an amusing one.

[Cee Cohen]

It was a good thing that Cee wasn’t the one pouring the coffee. He knew it was highly unlikely to keep things from a telepath. He quite liked Sean as a whole and had hoped that maybe the man wouldn’t pry. After all, it was mostly Cee’s business. No one else had been hurt, frankly, the wall needed to be replaced anyways, right? Totally okay. He’d just pay for the damage out of his security deposit—and possibly more—and then find a new place to go to. Shouldn’t be that bad.

Unfortunately, that was not going to be the case. Cee looked flustered at the question and looked around, as if searching for an exit, and quickly realized that this was stupid. He cleared his throat. “Well. I had some volatile chemicals that I had recently found in my apartment and decided to experiment with them one last time to see if they had retained their potency.” He shrugged. “It appears that it did. I became a little too close to it.” He smiled sheepishly at the other man. “That is the only thing, I do swear to you. Can I, ah, have my coffee?”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Such assurances did not have the calming effect that, perhaps, the younger man had expected to have. The notion of experimenting with volatile chemicals in a residence, entirely to see if the long-forgotten and recently rediscovered compounds had retained their potency defied rational expectations. At best, that was foolish; at worst, it was dangerous. The younger man could have lost more than his eyebrows, since certain chemical compounds grew unstable as they broke down.

The telepath had a vivid imagination, but he could not fathom how Cee had thought that was a good idea.

At the request, Sean brought two mugs of coffee over to where the younger man sat. He set one down before the computer teacher, and then settled in a chair across from Cee with the other mug. He idly stirred his coffee with the wooden stirrer, while he carefully considered what he wanted to say.

Finally, the older man offered a mild opening gambit. “You should be more careful. You could have gotten more seriously hurt, and you could have hurt someone else.”

That was the type of admonishment typically reserved for students. However, Cee’s behavior fell so far outside of the realm of responsible adult behavior that Sean considered his words and tone warranted.

“Have you spoken with your insurance company representative yet? They might not even cover the damage from a chemical accident.”

[Cee Cohen]

Cee was aware of all these risks. He was bright. He lacked any semblance to common sense but the one thing he wasn’t was stupid. Most of these chemicals had been fairly harmless aside from their occasional tendency to go boom under the right conditions. So he’d considered these things. But it was true, he had forgotten that some became a little more unstable. He’d been safe. Just…not safe enough.

“Thank you.” Cee latched onto the beverage, momentarily forgetting the fact that he was trying to avoid a truly serious conversation because he was distracted by the potential of caffeine. In truth, it wasn’t even about that. Cee got tired, just like every other human being, but he just liked the taste of coffee. Decaf didn’t come close. And since no one would let him go near the stuff, he was determined to enjoy it.

Even if the next comment made him flinch. Just slightly. It would’ve taken a very observant person to be able to differentiate between it and one of Cee’s normal twitches. “Ah…yes. These are accurate assessments.” A pause. “Sorry.”

The next comment had him staring into the mug. Eventually, he cleared his throat. “Ah, no. No, I have not. I figured I would simply…pay the damages myself. It’s extensive, but nothing I haven’t managed before. I still have some money in…savings…”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Having given Cee his coffee, Sean added milk and sugar to his own mug and then settled across from the computer teacher in an armchair. He sipped quietly, listening both to the explanations that the younger man gave him, as well as to the rather loud surface thoughts that Cee had on the subject.

This was foolish. So foolish that the psychiatrist expected it from Sam Rixon rather than from a grown man. Even a grown man as exuberant and easily-distracted as Cornelius Cohen. Yet the younger man was temporarily homeless because he had acted without thinking first.

The telepath suppressed a sigh. Going around insurance had its positives and negatives; in the positives, it would, possibly, prevent Cee’s rates from increasing. On the other hand, if he needed to have his home reassessed and the damage came out through another means, then Cee would suffer worse penalties. Additionally, paying outside of insurance would be more expensive, if insurance would cover the problem. Not being a claims adjuster, Sean could not give an informed assessment.

However, he could focus in on future problems.

“How many chemicals were left after the explosion?”

Disposing of those properly rivaled finding Cee temporary lodging, in terms of which had highest priority.