Guided Meditation? -Sean-

[Dr. Sean Neville]

A pen pal wasn’t ideal, and Sean was acutely aware of that. However, it was the best he could offer her in terms of concrete suggestions at the moment. He had suggested working her way up to an extracurricular activity or two later, which would give her the opportunity to make friends at the school and to interact with her peers in a setting that was neither class nor the dormitories with her frequently absent roommates. It was a start. And if she hit it off with a pen pal or with someone on the Internet, then they could meet face-to-face, and they would have already broken the ice long before having that meeting. Perhaps that, too, would ease the burden of Ann’s powers during the inevitable social interaction. At the same time, he could understand why she would be less than enthusiastic. Yet she gave her acquiescence all the same, and Sean began to think about possible pen pals at Hammel’s sister schools. Perhaps there were other empaths.

He smiled gently at her willingness to try. If it didn’t work out, either because she couldn’t make the connection or because she simply didn’t enjoy the experience, she could stop. But at least she would make the attempt, and there was no harm in that. “Good. I know of a few pen pal sites, and I might be able to hook you up with another meta-human, if that’s something you’re interested in.”

Her bewilderment was understandable, as the sudden emotional brick wall could be shocking, considering Sean’s tendency to emote. But he thought that he was helping to ease the burden a bit, so she wouldn’t have to handle his sympathy for her and his past associations while working through her current problems. She deserved a break in his opinion. He certainly hadn’t intended to offend her or to make her think that he considered her weak in doing so. He simply hadn’t wanted to put her on the spot, perhaps humiliating her by asking the question, and he didn’t want her to have to be artificially proud in his presence, particularly not after she’d confessed that she thought she was undeserving of attention. Hopefully the air of confidence would help her through the rest of this session, and would stay with her for a little while longer; hopefully she could have a few moments of clarity. She looked him in the eye, which Sean considered to be a good step in the right direction.

Yet, when she spoke, there was a problem; Sean didn’t hear certainty in either her voice or her thoughts. He heard hesitation, doubt, and fear of escalation, the very same fear of losing herself which he remembered so clearly from his own childhood. He’d formed a quick emotional bond with Robert at a much younger age, and through his training, their closeness was a necessity. That was the difference. “Try,” he agreed with a gentle nod. “Just remember that I’m here to help, and that I’m happy to do it. In fact, let me give you my home number, just in case. Would that be all right?” He’d been woken in the middle of the night for less before, and he doubted that Ann would abuse the privilege. Reaching for his pen and one of his business cards, he added, “We can work together.”

[Ann Hudgins]

She twisted her finger in the hem of her shirt, looking into her lap as she really thought about what she could say to someone she had never met, or would never meet. It really would take away the awkwardness of her inability to talk correctly or really meet with someone eye to eye. She liked the idea the more she thought about it. The hardest part, she imagined, would be just starting it. She nodded a little when he said he could tell her a few sites or even set her up with a meta-human pen pal. She nodded her head a few more times. "Ok. I'd like that. At least, I'd think I do. I don't know." She mumbled most of it to her lap, because she'd never entertained the idea before.

She untangled her finger from her shirt and looked up at him. "You can do that from meditation, right?" She asked meekly, referring to his ability to just stop feeling what he was feeling. That would be a great thing to learn. The most she can do with meditation at the moment was just lessen everything she was feeling, like lowering the volume on a stereo. All the emotions were still there, but just at more bearable increments. But to be able to just close her eyes and breath, and then not feel everything, would be....a miracle. And hopefully something she could do in the future, or her mind just might snap.

Try. She nodded along with him, she could try. She was glad he didn't insert any Yoda wisdom with a there is no try; do or do not bit, because even though Star Wars was one of the things she enjoyed as a little kid, the idea of not having an option to at least not get it right wasn't a good thing for her. She liked that he allowed herself to not commit to it one-hundred percent so soon. Though, now that they had gone this far, the idea of going back to struggling by herself was a total nightmare. She would try, and she'd eventually succeed, and that's all there was to it.

"Uhm...." She said slowly as he started to write down his home phone number. "I...I don't have a cell phone....or any phone for that matter." She rubbed her palms against her knees. She could carry his card in her wallet everywhere, but even if she needed him mid-breakdown. Unless someone dug his number out of her back pocket, she had no way of getting a hold of him. Though she did appreciate his attempt at something like that.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Give it some thought,” Sean advised her. It would be no trouble at all for him to gather the resources for her and to talk to his colleagues at the other meta-human schools, the ones with mission statements similar enough to Hammel that they were in communication in the first place. “I can get you as much information as you want, and then you can choose what works best. And remember, just because you have a certain person’s contact information doesn’t mean you’re obligated to reach out to him or her.” In case she decided she didn’t want a meta-human or that she only wanted another meta-human, she shouldn’t be pressured to write to everyone.

The conversation shifted such that Ann actually asked him about how he’d cut off his active emoting. He wouldn’t say so, since she hadn’t done it for any sort of reward, but he was proud of her for taking the initiative to comment. He was also glad that he hadn’t outright offended her by doing so. He nodded in affirmation of that. “Part of it’s from meditation, and the rest of it comes from training with my mentor.” It had been necessary for him to learn to separate himself, to compartmentalize what he heard and saw and felt and thought, in order to learn what was his and what belonged to the world that constantly clambered for admittance in his head. “It takes practice, but I’m sure you could learn over time.” Practice was key, because potential power level had no meaning without control, and one only learned control through time and effort. These were lessons learned well from Robert over the years, and demonstrated further through Sean’s own experiences.

If Sean weren’t separating himself from his emotions, he might smile at the thought of him as Yoda. He’d enjoyed Star Wars when the first movie had premiered; he’d been in college and a group of them had gone to see it. Then when the new ones had come out, he’d taken his nephew, as he had no children of his own. As flattering as it might be to be compared to Yoda, he always saw himself – if he had to think the matter through – as Ben Kenobi or...what was Ben’s mentor? Qui Gon Gin? He’d look it up later. He didn’t believe in making anyone rush past what was comfortable for them, unless it was a matter of life, limb, or sanity. And although Ann’s sanity was certainly in play here, nothing was so pressing that she need commit fully now. As long as she was willing to hear him out, and willing to talk to him if there was a problem, everything would be fine. She had made a fine start today.

He’d just finished writing down his home number when she alerted him to the fadt that she didn’t have a cell phone. Or access to a phone – he assumed she meant aside from the ones in the hall that the students could use if necessary. That would need to be remedied. If she couldn’t get one from home for whatever reason, he’d have to talk to Claude at the next staff meeting, about starting a cell phone plan for the students. It needn’t be anything fancy, but in case of emergencies or other problems, they should have a means of communication. He held it out to her, “Why don’t you take it just in case?” With the card in her hand, he leaned back in his chair. “Will you be all right for the rest of the day? Do you want me to arrange to get you out of class?”

[Ann Hudgins]

'Okay..." She said slowly as he said give it some thought. She hadn't outrightly said yes to it, but she was already envisioning how to start her first letter, so that was pretty much a yes. She wasn't sure if she liked the idea of talking to a human as apposed to a meta, because with a meta, they would understand her inability to communicate verbally with anyone (if they had a similar power, if they didn't they'd at least be able to understand the draw backs of side effects). "That'd be...yeah. Great. Thank you." She said looking from things on the wall to him.

She didn't have a right to be offended, in her opinion, when he took his emotions away. Because for so long she had just tried to shoulder everything, and not seek out any help to better herself, while attending a school that was supposed to do just that. Chances were that if she had done what she was supposed to, and actually confided in people, then she would probably be able to do what he had just done. By not doing anything, she gave up her right to be offended by being treated like a fragile and unstable person. Yeah, she didn't like it, but she knew it was her own fault. She nodded her head a little as a wry chuckle escaped her mouth. "Yeah. Maybe I can do that. Eventually."

Ann's father was actively in the military; Marine Corp. He literally had no patience or time for failure, and as Ann grew up there wasn't really a trial and error process. It was a do-what-I-say-when-I-say-it-how-I-say-it, or there were painful consequences. Ann's mother wasn't the storybook mother, and she was almost as bad as her husband. Almost. Ann was used to being rushed through to success with things she'd never tried before. Though that was what she was used to, being a meta sort of changed all that. There was no 'get it right' because there really wasn't a right or wrong. There was just so much unknown about her powers. Even if there was an empath at the school with a power exactly like Ann, they couldn't tell her exactly how to fix herself. No. She'd have to work at it little by little.

She knew that, but her fears of opening up and letting people get close to her had stopped her from taking action. Well...not anymore. She'd broken the first barrier and sought out help, and she could keep doing it until she actually got good control of it. He held out the card to her and she looked at it like it was going to bite her. That card was small, and while he was holding it so there was plenty of room for her to actually take hold of the card without touching him, the idea of even attempting it caused a layer of cold sweat to erupt. She licked her lips tentatively and slowly reached out her hand to take the card, because he wanted her to take his card so she could contact him, if she needed. She carefully held the card between her finger and thumb and withdrew much faster than when she reached out for the card. Her fingers were shaking from her fear of actually coming in contact with his skin. She tucked her hair behind her ears a few times. She hadn't realized their session had been waning to a close, but in retrospect, now would be a good time to stop. He probably had other things to do, anyway. And there was class she needed to attend.

"I'll be fine." She said slowly. She really did feel better, not just about herself and her future, but just plain emotionally. Talking to him and eased some of the things she hadn't given a voice to and she was sure she could make it through the rest of the day. She slid the card into her pocket. "Thank you." She said as she picked up her almost empty water bottle. She stood slowly and smoothed her shirt and pants out before she glanced sideways. Now would be the part where he told her it was no problem, maybe even walk her to the door and they'd shake hands.

Nope. She started to retreat towards the door backwards, like the frightened little rabbit she always became with the idea of touching came up. "So I'll uhm...see you...sometime?" She wasn't terribly sure how this part worked out. Did she make an appointment? Did he just tell her when to come in? She stood within arms reach of the door, just tempted to cut and run--but really, what would that accomplish?

[Dr. Sean Neville]

This was only the beginning in terms of helping Ann with her social problems, but it was a beginning, and that was progress. Sean nodded lightly in response to her permission to find someone for her. Although that permission began slowly with an obvious undercurrent of hesitation, she gave more readily after a moment’s consideration. “You’re welcome,” he replied, and although the words were simple, he meant them. She was welcome to whatever assistance she might want from him, because she was entitled to help, and he was glad to do so for her.

If she had told someone about her difficulty before now, then most likely she would be in better control of her emotions, and would be able to do what Sean could to some extent. It was a matter of practice and necessity; Sean remained confident that she would learn, even though she was a bit delayed in that learning process. Taking the first step in reaching out could be difficult, but she had taken it, and thus in some ways, it was downhill from there. Not with the nuts and bolts of practicing, but with finding that first bit of courage. He nodded in agreement, “I bet you can, eventually. Keep it as a long-term goal.”

Sean took her assertion at face value, because she knew herself better than he did, even if she had demonstrated an unwillingness to have her needs met. If she wished to go to class instead of taking some time off for herself, the decision was hers and hers alone; she wasn’t in any imminent danger. “Of course, and if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He had a stack of pre-written notes waiting to be customized for a student with a problem. “And again, you’re welcome.”

Sean didn’t expect her to come forward and shake hands with him, a completely polite social butterfly having emerged from her cocoon after only one session with him. But he rose from his chair all the same, because that was polite; he didn’t step away from his desk, when she began her hasty retreat toward the door. He didn’t want her to leave without a sense of closure for the day and a set appointment for next time, which led him to reply, “I’ll see you on Friday after class.”

[Ann Hudgins]

She nodded her head a little more. Almost completely warmed up to the idea. She knew she'd go through with it now, and not just because she told him she would. But because she really did want a friend. And if it was just going to be a friend through text or script, then fine. She'd work with it, and get over any sort of disappointment she'd feel. It was a start, and that was good for right now. She fidgeted with the jacket sleeves for a moment and nodded her head a little.

"Yeah...long-term." Just like her graduating. They'd both be long term goals. Not that that was surprising, at all. That's what she got for holding it in. She looked down at her sleeves, and tried to picture herself leaving the room with the small shred of confidence she seemed to gain and returning to class. She couldn't imagine that the shred would last any good amount of time at all. "Right." she said, replying to his comment about knowing where to find him. She did, and she promised herself that if she really did end up needing him again, she'd stop by.

She nodded when he told her he'd see her on Friday. After Class. She nodded again, committing that to memory. Ann always hated being late--it was a part of her upbringing. She spun and pulled the door open quickly...too quickly, in fact. The wood sharply smacked against her forehead because in her haste, she didn't step sideways to allow the door room to open. She closed her eyes as she stepped through the door, pulling it quickly shut behind her.

That didn't just happen, did it? Her throbbing forehead told her differently and she groaned under her breath as she walked down the hall, skirting around a moving passerby.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean nodded in agreement when she acknowledged his information regarding their next session. Friday after class would give her structure, and also wouldn’t cut into her homework time, as no student did homework on Friday afternoon. Considering her admissions regarding her social life, he was less concerned about her missing opportunities this week, although it was a long-term goal to help her build a strong social network.

When the door hit the poor girl in the forehead, Sean stepped forward to offer his assistance, but at fifty-two, his reflexes weren’t fast enough to compete with those of an eighteen-year-old, particularly a mortified eighteen-year-old empath. The door slammed shut before he was able to get around his desk. He made no effort to go after her, as she’d made plain that she didn’t want to be fussed over, and he didn’t want to inflict unwanted touch upon her; fortunately, he hadn’t noticed any bleeding or obvious bruising, although admittedly his angle from the desk was a bit obstructed.

They could talk about it on Friday. Until then, the doctor had his work ahead of him. He had to talk to Chase about her current training, and then check his contact book for any other possibilities. He wouldn’t talk to Anya just yet, as Ann had expressed reservations about that possibility – the same reservations that Sean himself had, which made them potentially suspect, or perhaps she was a particularly self-aware young woman. He couldn’t rule that out, given the nature of her powers, and he wasn’t going to second-guess her on age alone.

He also would find her a stack of potential pen pals, just as he’d promised. Sean decided to get to work on that first, as he could track Chase down in the faculty lounge later. Whipping out his address book for numbers, he readied the telephone. He had calls to make.