third week of the month (Sean)

[Eddard Falkenberg]

It was that time of the month again. And before it sounds too weird, it was the time when Ice usually found his way to Dr. Neville's office. It was never any given day, no pre-set date, but it was usually in about the same time frame, which happened to be the third week of the month. At that point Ice had things under control in his classes, but more time meant less work and less stress, which lead to some annoying dreams when he couldn't control them. That, in turn, then lead to self-loathing and some other feelings he usually tried to repress, but instead of fighting it as hard as he used to (and nearly killing his brains in the process) he just went over to Sean and talked it out. So people didn't like shrinks but Ice found that some were actually a lot of help, so he didn't complain or whine or anything. He just did what was best for him and ignored what anyone else was saying. Besides, apart from Sean no one really knew what he was up to for those few hours on one afternoon.

Of course he always alerted the psychiatrist before-hand, at least giving him a day before he actually appeared in the office. It was much easier that way because then he didn't intrude on any other sessions and also he didn't think just barging in would make a lasting impression. Ice had known Sean since being schooled at the institute so he knew a thing or two about the man and how he helped those here. That was always a good thing. Of course he didn't fool himself - Sean probably knew Ice better than he did himself. It was bound to happen throughout the history of his monthly visits to this office. So in any case, it was better to come here than wallow or do anything else of the sort that could cause him those severe migraines again or increase his paranoia. He had enough of that during a normal day; of course he knew it was just a side-effect, but it was like that thought was closed behind bullet-proof, sound-proof glass and the rest of him couldn't hear it. The paranoia was always there.

Like right now when his head jerked around before he berated himself and finished the trek to the office, knowing the only one behind him could be a student or another professor - now way there'd be anyone else. At least, not someone who'd be out for him or something equally stupid. Ice rubbed his forehead and stopped in front of the familiar door, lifting a hand but checking behind him just to be sure. Stupid paranoia. Then his knuckles rapped lightly against the frame before he waited to be admitted, and for the customary question - answer talk to begin.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

For years now, Sean had seen Eddard as a patient. Their sessions had begun when the younger man had first come to Hammel and had had difficulty adjusting. It was to be expected, as precognition was a power which, like telepathy, ran amok with young meta-humans who developed it. Their psyches often became very fragile and required a fair amount of attention. Despite not being a seer, Sean could sympathize, since memory manipulation was similar to precognition in that they were both assaulted by the flow of time, merely at different points in its flow and in opposite directions.

As Eddard had grown and matured, he had also become more stable emotionally, and their sessions had grown less frequent. Yet the young man insisted on keeping them up past graduation, which Sean had obliged; he was happy to continue to help a young man in need. And from personal experience, he had required his own mentor long past graduation.

When Eddard became a teacher at Hammel, the dynamics shifted, because now the younger man was a colleague. Sean never divulged anything that happened in their sessions, and he remained a resource. Their sessions continued, although they had become more of a monthly ritual than any more frequent pacing they once had.

So every month, usually at the end of the middle, somewhere around the third week, Sean could expect to hear from Eddard that he wished to have a session, and the psychiatrist would set aside a couple of hours for the younger man. He’d received that request the day before, and thus today, Sean had gotten himself a mug of coffee and had cleared his afternoon for a few hours.

The knock came, right on time, and told him that Eddard had arrived. Sipping his coffee, he called for the other man to come in and make himself comfortable.

[Eddard Falkenberg]

So of course these monthly sessions weren't really as usual as those of a normal patient and a normal psychiatrist. Mostly because said people usually didn't have mate-powers to begin with, unlike here where people without powers were a rare exotic happening. Eddard had a feeling that if he hadn't come back to Hammel after graduation and the sabbatical, that he'd be totally lost in the outside world, despite the teachings and the lessons and everything. He'd just feel way too much out of place. Maybe the whole paranoia thing was getting to him more than he wanted to admit. Sometimes it was just the dreams - either it was about memories, about what had been before Hammel, or it was about fragments, things that he couldn't control and were leaking into his thoughts.

He tended to try and nail his problems down to one or two points whenever he came to talk to Sean; it was much easier for him that way, personally. Because he didn't need to scope over the whole lot of what was going on at once, but rather focus on one thing and try and fix it. Sort of. Generally Eddard got the feeling people were just amused by his tries. It wasn't that he didn't want to accept who and what he was- he'd done that years ago. It was the fact that he was so helpless when it came to his powers sometimes ... the way they could just get out of control when he didn't want them to. He was also afraid, mostly, of losing himself if he wouldn't be careful, if he couldn't remain inside his skull, sane.

When he heard Sean's voice from the other side of the door, Ice let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and let himself in, opening the door just enough to slip into the office before closing it again. "Good afternoon - had a busy day today?" It was a customary Ice question - he never failed to inquire after the well-being or at least some of it from the person he was talking to. Lowering himself into the seat he usually occupied in these sessions, he felt his body slowly relax in the familiar surroundings. The paranoia was always just a simmer at the very darkest corner of his thoughts whenever he was here at this time of the month. It made him feel almost normal.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The sense of community and fitting in was what led many Hammel graduates to return as faculty or in other staff capacities. Sean had spoken with others about it for long hours and it had been the topic of debate over whether there was something else that they could do to prepare the students for life on the outside. The general belief was that it was part and parcel of belonging to a minority group, that several members would intentionally seek out places where they were the majority as a coping mechanism. Since Sean had done the same, albeit for different reasons, he tended to hypothesize without passing judgment.

The psychiatrist appreciated Eddard’s desire to narrow down what bothered him during their sessions. Although it wasn’t necessary – after all, he was paid to listen to people’s problems and help them sort through their thoughts, and if you couldn’t ramble to a psychiatrist, when could you? At the same time, it made offering advice easier, since he didn’t have to pull together several different threads of conversation. Eddard did his best; his powers made that task more difficult than the average baseline human, or a meta with powers like Vincent’s – although that boy had other problems. Mental powers always made adaptation difficult, which was why Sean made it a personal crusade to be sure that mental powered metas, young and old, had all of the necessary accommodations; life and their powers were difficult enough as it was. Eddard experienced the same fears that Sean had when he was younger, and so he was particularly sympathetic to his plight. As a young man, he thought that he would drown in the thoughts and memories of others.

He gave the younger man a welcoming smile when he stepped into his office. And once the door was closed, he waited for Eddard to get comfortable before they began. “About the usual, nothing too busy. Not like last week.” Last week had been more meetings than work, with everything that had fallen into his lap. Thankfully this week had a far more relaxed pace. “And how are you doing?” It was a pleasantry as much as it was an invitation to begin; the other man could interpret it as he saw fit.