Abandonment Issues (Vincent)

[Jesse Adams]

When Jesse had received his new schedule, he'd questioned the change. Nothing looked different.

Not until he looked closer.

For training he had been passed from one to another, and while he'd gone through the motions, he hadn't really tried. There was no point when he likely wasn't going to graduate in the next decade. He hadn't really clicked with any of his trainers, and as such his desire to really try had sunk further and further.

Since Vincent had left, Jesse had had a mix of feelings for his trainer. He'd started to trust him, especially after the fiasco of his father contacting him out of the blue. While he couldn't exactly call Vincent a father figure, he was something close, and that thought had been both scary and comforting at the same time. He had even become less skittish around Nakia, which had come in handy after his surgery. Seeing her more often for routine checks to ensure his incision wasn't infected and that it was healing okay without having to go to the hospital (except for the rechecks he had to go see the surgeon for) had helped with that. He'd made tentative kind-of-sort-of friends with Cassi, because it was hard not to like her, and after Vincent had left, he had kept a distant eye on Appoline when Nakia had mentioned being concerned.

But after Vincent had left, it was hard not to feel the sting of abandonment. He'd trusted him, and even after receiving the letter from him he hadn't felt that much better. Okay, he sort of understood, but at the same time... it didn't make it sting any less.

So when he saw that Vincent's name was back by his training block, he took his sweet time going to the office. Dragging his feet along the hall, he even stopped to text both Clement and Sasha before checking the time.

He was almost twenty minutes late for training. That would hopefully be statement enough. Making his way down the training hall, he toed open the door before closing it solidly behind him. He no longer feared being trapped in the room with Vincent, because deep down he did still trust him. He just needed to get past the sting of being left.

He'd matured in the last year, in looks if nothing else. He continued to fill out from being the skinny, skittish teenager with a temper to a taller, more adult looking, less skittish young adult. ... Hell, he was an adult now in the eyes of the law.

Eyeing Vincent, he carefully sat down opposite him and let his bag fall to the ground with a solid thud. Folding his arms across his chest, he just waited. Whether he was about to be told off for being late, get lectured, or just get on with the lesson, he didn't know. But whatever was coming, he could take it.

... Maybe.

[Vincent Meian]

Being absent from Hammel had been hard. Very hard. It wasn't only being away from the people he cared about who lived there (though that had been difficult enough), but being away from the calm vibrancy and the sense of... adventure, almost. Hammel had a life of its own, and even when elements of it were unpleasant, it was still an expression of life at large.

Vincent hadn't wanted to go. He really didn't. Despite the fact that he brought it up to the Headmistress, despite the fact that he left within a scant few days of recovering from his dip in the lake... he hadn't wanted to leave, to keep everyone in Pilot Ridge in this safe little box high on a shelf where he couldn't reach it. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. To him, or to anyone else.

But it had to be done.

The trainer had kept in contact with many people while he was gone; family, friends, coworkers, students. Of all of them, only one person didn't return his letters, but still had one every week from February on. Jesse Adams. Relentlessly, Vincent had written him, and sometimes the letters were short and mindless while often they were long and hesitant. After a while, he even stopped scratching out things that jumped straight from his brain to the page - at that point, he'd been certain that the blonde wasn't reading them, but needed to write anyway.

Spring had finally come, and with it the Japanese man. A week was needed to test his powers and control, to ensure he was safe to be around students, and with great relief was a contract accepted again afterwards. Even Yvette seemed pleased to have the tall man back, though her feelings on the subject were more inferred than stated.

His first training day was the next day. Monday. A day he trained Jesse in the afternoon. It filled him with a quiet dread, and a small dash of hope, and the space between his lessons were willed with almost relentless pacing in the small office they'd saved for him. How far back had they gone? Was there no more trust? How badly had he hurt the boy? Would he even show up today, or would he have to go find him?

If he had to, Vincent honestly couldn't say he had the courage.

The minutes ticked by into their scheduled lesson together, and still the trainer waited. He waited, and waited, and waited. All the while nervously finding other things to do other than worry.

Finally, the door creaked open. The ex-soldier snapped his head up, hope and expectation written on his face as the lean figure entered the office. He actually came. He shifted, almost going to rise and greet him, but stopped - if they'd backslid, that'd only serve to threaten Jesse, not... So, he stayed seated, but a flash of warmth settled on his features, unbeknownst to him.

Even in the face of stubbornness and indifference, it was hard not to smile just a little. In the past, the tall man would have certainly mentioned the tardiness, been worried about the situation that caused it. But right now, he was filled with relief, and it expressed itself clearly (to someone who knew him) in his tone. "Thank you for coming."

He paused, hesitant, but continued anyway. "It has been... a while. You seem to have grown since last we spoke."

Small talk was not his specialty. But caring was hard, and it was hard to face someone who was rightfully upset with you. Even for Vincent Meian.

[Jesse Adams]

The letters Jesse had collected from his trainer had all been stacked and more or less stuffed into his desk drawer. All had been read upon opening them, and while some had been revisited, none had been replied to. He’d toyed with the idea, of course, but he’d never quite mustered up the motivation to do so. By the time it seemed like an okay idea, it had been so long he had no idea what to say.

He still didn’t know what to say, even sitting across from his trainer. When Vincent made the move to stand, he surprised himself by simply setting his jaw and not moving a muscle. He remembered the days vividly that a move like that would make him flinch or freeze. These days, he wasn’t so scared of Vincent Meian.

Mistrusting, perhaps, but not scared.

That mistrust came only from the notion that he could leave again. He didn’t want him to go, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted him back, either. Vincent had been a cornerstone of support when his father had contacted him. He had been safe. Or at the very least, neutral. When he’d left, not only had Jesse felt that sting of abandonment, but he’d also felt rather in the open and threatened.

Thankfully, his father hadn’t tried contacting him again. The only contact he’d had with his family recently was Sasha’s arrival at Hammel. That had made him feel both better and worse. Better, because she was away from him. Worse, because now she was in Vermont, it was going to be a lot harder to keep his less than squeaky clean past under wraps with her.

“If I didn’t come, you’d just track me down. I know that.” He’d done it before. The day he’d ditched, right after he’d tossed his dream journal at his trainer, he’d been found quickly enough and the session had been conducted regardless of his resistance.

The comment about him growing just made him bite down on his tongue to keep from making more snide comments. “Maybe. I’m an adult now.” An adult that had made exactly zero progress since Vincent’s departure. The notes from his interim trainers would have made that painfully clear. “Let’s just get this over with.”

[Vincent Meian]

As much as it looked like it, Vincent hadn't been running away, though he had unintentionally abandoned people. Lots of people, when he thought about it, which he didn't like doing but did anyway. Guilt was like that, but duty was a stronger feeling and forced him to do the long-term "Right Thing", even when it was in dichotomous opposition to the short-term "Right Thing". Which was staying where he was needed and waiting for another of these events to happen.

Both the trainer and his employer thought that was a very bad idea. So.

In any case, he'd tried to keep contact, to make sure his students and family and friends knew he was thinking of them. Writing letters, the occasional call, even keeping his emails open just in case. Few wrote back, but that didn't stop him from writing week after week, trying to keep in contact.

Jesse, by far, had the most number of letters. Not because of anything in particular to do with their relationship, but because... well, in a way, the boy was fragile. He needed the reassurance that he wasn't being abandoned, that his trainer would come back soon. That the man he was beginning to trust wouldn't just leave him.

Apparently, it hadn't stuck. Perhaps it was unfortunate that Vincent wrote so many; they may not have even been opened, let alone read.

The accusation was true, though this time may have been forgiven. Maybe. Still, a somewhat humored cast fell over the tall man's face. "That is true," he admitted. "However, I appreciate the courtesy."

Adult. Hm. Jesse had been legally an adult before the incident two winters ago. Perhaps he simply meant that he was fully an adult in the eyes of the law now. It didn't mean he'd been acting like one as far as anyone could tell. It had seemed more like a sullen tantrum than anything else, the way that his training had stalled so suddenly.

A soft sigh escaped Vincent, and he shook his head slightly, unaware of the flicker of resigned shame that crossed his tan face. They had work to do: this was not the time to play catch-up. "Very well. Have you been maintaining your journal?"

Unlikely, but possible. "I would like to see your progress in repairing memories as well." There was the trainer from that first day in this office. "Have you been practicing?"

[Jesse Adams]

Some of the letters he’d received had made him consider replying. Or even sending off a quick text to his trainer, to acknowledge them at least. Especially when Vincent had asked him to watch Appoline from afar. In hindsight, it would have been the right thing to do, he supposed. But he’d let Nakia know he was doing it, and he was sure she was in contact with Vincent.

Funny, with his trainer gone, his relationship with Nakia had evolved. Staying with her family during his ‘emergency’ away from Hammel had helped, but with his knee surgery, he’d seen more of Nakia in a professional capacity in the past year than he may have liked. While she still made him nervous when he saw her in the infirmary, but as long as she didn’t have to do anything with him, he liked her just fine. She was sort of comforting, in a maternal way, which was nice when he’d been away from his own mother for so long.

Vincent’s return was minorly comforting, if only because he had once felt a real sense of protection from him. His leaving really had made him feel exposed, and everything they’d worked for in their training sessions had just… fallen away. Vincent had made him want to be successful in his training. He’d made him feel like he could get his side effects in control, and help him get to graduation territory. He didn’t know how long it would take to get that back.

“Mm hmm.” He didn’t really know how to answer that, so he just shrugged. Yes, he’d showed up. Late, but he’d done it.

“Yeah.” The dream journal had become habit, and it helped him remember and track them as they happened. He’d long since filled up the first one, and had resorted to messy notebooks afterwards, but he still maintained it.

Repairing memories? Well, his progress was in almost the exact same spot as it had been at their last session. Clicking his teeth absently on his lip ring, he considered the request. “I’ve been training,” he said evasively, though even that was a loose truth. He’d been attending his lessons, sure, but he hadn’t exactly been pushing himself in them. He made no effort to move, though. Touching involved trust, and he wasn’t too sure where his trust was right now.

[Vincent Meian]

Indeed, Nik had been in contact with her husband. It was expected, but regardless, she had responded to him with almost as much vigor and punctuality as he did for her. Letters and calls both, the latter of which were often... emotional and personal. But, that was neither here nor there. The albino woman had told her husband of Jesse's somewhat passive surveillance, and Vincent had immediately felt better about the situation. He could trust Jesse.

If Vincent had been a telepath (for which everyone on the planet should be thankful he's not), he would have been able to see the hurt in more than just posture and tone. He'd have been able to understand, perhaps, exactly what his student felt when he left, and make more appropriate steps to fix it. Steps that would work faster, more smoothly. Unfortunately, in the real world, he was a dimensionalist, not a telepath; he would just have to muddle through on instinct and experience.

Though that would be hard with one-word answers.

It was easy to see the evasion, but the trainer merely raised his eyebrow in response. He didn't quite believe that, but it wasn't precisely something to be disbelieved either. "Good. I will need to test your progress."

There. Evade that.

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse wasn’t planning to make this easy. He’d never been a particularly touchy person, not in the literal sense or the figurative one. He wasn’t planning to spill his guts and talk about feelings with his trainer. He had enough of that with Dr Neville. He knew Vincent knew he was annoyed, and that was that.

Test his progress? Scowling, he slipped his hands closer to his body, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to touch Vincent, and he didn’t want to show him that he didn’t really make much progress while he was away. Deep down, under his irritation, he really did still have a desire to make his trainer proud, and he knew this was no way to go about that.

Fingers clenched slightly into fists as he weighed his options. “What exactly to do you want me to do?” He was hedging, and he knew it. He knew Vincent would know it too. But he couldn’t exactly do much without direction, could he? He may not be able to avoid it, but he could certainly stall.

[Vincent Meian]

The instant response to his proclamation showed Jesse's reluctance more than anything else, as well as his defensiveness. While not unexpected, it was decidedly more sullen than Vincent had expected. (And this was where Jesse was concerned.) Then again, perhaps his expectations were simply too high.

Not knowing that the blonde's recalcitrant behavior was actually due to wanting the exact opposite, the trainer simply spread his hands and laid them on the desktop. His gaze was focused on his student's, and he seemed unwilling to bend this time. "Find a memory," he stated clearly. "Alter it, and then repair it."

There. The order was given in clear, concise terms. No more stalling, no more dancing around the issue at hand. Jesse was either going to prove Vincent's faith in him, or fail. It was really that simple.

[Jesse Adams]

Well that had backfired. Jesse watched Vincent slide his hands across the desk surface and considered what might happen if he simply refused to cooperate. It had been a while since he'd put up a fight about anything, mostly to try to keep on the right side of the line. But this was different. His stubbornness wasn't born of a desire to misbehave, but rather to prove a point to his trainer.

Knowing he wasn't going to get out of this easily, he took his sweet time leaning forward, and rather than the full hand to hand contact he had once trusted his trainer with, he reverted back to simply touching him with one finger. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth and tried to find a handy surface memory.

After working his skill of alteration, he manipulated it more than he usually did, playing to his strengths, but also reminding his trainer was he was capable of. Altering, he had a talent for. That aspect of his power had been extensively trained, after all.

Putting it back... he tried to follow the twisted path he'd taken in altering it, but it wasn't easy. When he finally let go he was verging on a headache, and he knew he'd just failed whatever stupid test Vincent had laid out for him.

"There. Happy?" Probably not, being that a memory was now out of whack.

[Vincent Meian]

The lack of contact was like a thorn suddenly noticed with a step. Intellectually, Vincent understood the reason for this defiance and distance; emotionally, it still hurt. Not as much as leaving had, but it was still a stinging reminder.

Contact was contact, however, and with it the trainer relaxed, letting Jesse do his work. Unlike many times before, there was no gentle shuffling of memories like the pages of an old book - instead, it was as if the blonde had simply plucked up what was nearest and decided to run with it deep into the rabbit hole. Since the closest memory to the surface had been a thought of Jesse himself, and how he'd acted when first meeting his new trainer...

Well, perhaps he'd had too much free reign.

The problem with memory was that it didn't like to be changed. Not only that, it was hard to tell what was different unless you knew exactly what you were looking for. Vincent knew his memory had been tampered with, extensively. However, it was the strained and sloppy repair that jangled the Japanese man's nerves, made his thoughts stay troubled on the issue. Something was wrong.

The question made him huff, a short sound almost like a bitter laugh. Scarred hands pulled back across the desk, and rested in the long-legged lap. "No, I am not," he admitted. "It seems you have let your vindictive feelings overcome you."

Not that that wasn't bitter at all.

Vincent took a breath and let it out slowly. They had time yet. Not much, but some. Perhaps they could try again. "Is there something bothering you, Adams-san?"

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse didn’t like failure on a normal day, but today it felt a little like the proverbial icing on the cake. He had already show Vincent how he’d felt with his attitude alone, but failing at the task asked of him just went to seal his feelings in stone. No, he wasn’t really happy. Nor had he really put the work in for his other trainers.

His trainer’s expression told him that he wasn’t exactly happy with him either, and for that the blond couldn’t really fault him. He’d just failed, after all, and proved his work ethic in training had been minimal at best, as if the notes in his extensive file hadn’t been clear enough for him.

“I’m not vindictive,” he murmured, though it probably wasn’t really that far from the truth.

The question made him eye his trainer, a tiny scowl on his face. “Well for starters, stop calling me that.” He knew it was a cultural thing, and he didn’t mean to sound so annoyed. But prior to Vincent’s sudden departure he’d been happy with being addressed by his name as normal. True, Vincent’s way of referring to him was miles better than being called ‘Mr. Adams’, which only dredged up thoughts of his father. But it still irked him, especially now they were face to face. He’d expected to be more relieved than annoyed at Vincent’s return, honestly. The anger resting under the surface was a little unnerving, but at least he wasn’t as bad as he’d been at their first meeting.

Eyeing him, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Other than that, I don’t know. I didn’t make any progress with my other trainers. They were probably scared to touch me or something.” Which may or may not have actually been true, but it was about time he stopped tip toeing around that. He knew what people thought of him. He’d heard the rumors, same as everyone else. And it terrified him, because if he’d heard them, it was probably only a matter of time before Sasha came to question him about them.

[Vincent Meian]

Whether Jesse admitted his feelings or not was irrelevant. They were clearly apparent in his lack of caution when manipulating the memory he had chosen, if not in his inability to repair what he had wrought. The latter was simply because he had less training in that aspect of his abilities, and because he had attempted to fix things immediately after damaging them. What mattered is that he had failed the test.

Then again, maybe his trainer did, too.

The blonde's tone sounded harsher than it was. Not enough to make Vincent flinch, nor enough to make him well and truly angry, but it was noticed in perhaps not the most comfortable of ways. Gold eyes narrowed, warning, but the gaze diverted quickly as if to curb the amount of threat perceived. The cultural trait was there to stay, appreciated or not, and the respect inherent was given in case... well, in case Jesse didn't want the familiarity they'd had anymore. Honestly, Vincent wouldn't blame him if that were the case. But, it seemed like this was just one more misstep in a dance that had changed movements on him.

The curt bite at the other teachers brought the look back to the young man. This time, it stayed, though the Japanese man thought his words through carefully before he spoke, rather than lash out with the first thing on his mind. One breath, in and out, and the expression smoothed back to something neutral, normal. Then, "If there is something you need to speak of, I encourage you to do so. We cannot train if you are not relaxed."

There. No insult, no threat, no condemnation. No orders even, really. A suggestion, a side-step. He was not going to get into an argument with Jesse today if he could help it. Even if he could with others without fear of serious repercussions... Jesse was not other people.

His student would either talk to him, or find another way. Because until he got over whatever was bothering him, they would continue to have issues.

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse honestly felt like he was going in mental circles. On one hand he was glad to have his trainer back. It was an extra layer of protection and familiarity that he’d missed having. Yet on the other hand… he was still a little hurt by it all. Even if he understood why it had to have happened. The letters had made that… painfully clear at times. But even if he understood, that hurt was still there, lurking under the surface.

And he’d never really been great at handling feelings.

“I can’t relax.” There, he’d said it. He had his back up, mostly because he didn’t know what to expect from the lessons anymore. Too much time had passed, and he didn’t like it. “And I don’t really want to talk about it. It’ll be fine.” It just wouldn’t be fine right now. “Just… I need time. To figure… this out.” His hand waved slightly between the two of them. At one point they had had the kind of relationship that that would be all that was needed to be said. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

And, because he knew he couldn’t get away with this behaviour for long, he averted his gaze away from his trainer. “’m sorry I screwed up your memory.”

[Vincent Meian]

If Jesse had thought about it, he would have known exactly where the lessons were going. Make him more capable, more understanding of his abilities, able to use them to heal instead of hurt or abuse. To prove that he wasn't as untrustworthy as so many seemed to think he was. To prove he was working to be better. It was exactly the same as when they first began, and would be until they finished. Even if everything had changed between them, nothing would change in this room.

And yet... Vincent understood. Jesse had put trust in him, and he'd failed in that trust as surely as the psychic failed in his test. But just because he didn't have the trust anymore didn't mean the Japanese man didn't know how it felt. Or what he remembered.

A moment or two after the blonde had apologized (imagine that! He'd heard that so rarely, he could count it on one hand!), the trainer shook his head. "It was a test," he answered simply. "While I was hoping for success, this was not entirely unexpected. You need not apologize - you are still learning."

If he had anything to say about it, that learning would continue for as long as it took, rather than for as long as his student wanted it to.

"If time is what you need, then you shall have it." He did not flinch at the look he received; he was far too composed for that. "You will still need to report for training, however it need not be here, nor will I force you to comply. Time for understanding is a trade I will willingly make for you, if necessary."

Perhaps that was too personal, but it was honest. Ever honest, Vincent Meian.

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse knew exactly why he was still in training classes. It was always part of his probation, and the agreement that he had entered into upon coming back to Hammel. He had to learn to control it, that much was clear. His side effects still plagued his dreams at night. His dream journals were proof enough of that. Memory repair was something he needed to work on, and he knew that, too. He also knew better than to tamper as much as he had. Much like a Rubix Cube, he knew he had messed it up, but he had no idea how to put it back. The pieces were still there, if jumbled and hidden beneath the new patches he had inserted. But putting them back was another story.

He really did feel a little bad about screwing things up so badly. That it overshadowed his irritation with his trainer was surprising, but only a little. It was familiar, almost. Akin to how he used to feel during his training sessions. Before he had run off.

“It was stupid,” he mumbled. He knew it. Vincent knew it. Perhaps if he focused he could do a little better. Or at least shove his petty feelings aside. Tantrums got him nowhere, after all. They never had with Vincent, and they probably never would.

“… Why are you letting me get away with this?” He needed to know. “I’m acting like a spoiled brat and you’re just… letting it happen.” He may need time to get their working relationship back on track, but he didn’t know why Vincent was letting him get away with all of it. He hadn’t expected Vincent to agree to time. Or not to give him trouble for failing his test.

Maybe he just didn’t know what to expect from Vincent Meian anymore.