Time Warp: Unscheduled

[Dr. James Campbell]

Set 17 years ago, shortly after the events in Time Warp: Not While I'm Around.

Someone was messing with him.

Apparently, he had some bullshit power that made him able to see things differently, but he didn't need it to know that someone was messing with him. He was twenty-two, married, and had a daughter, for crissakes. It was bad enough that the school--"for the sake of convenience" they said--even considered him a senior. James wasn't even a senior in college, any more. No, he was a college graduate, and yet someone expected him to attend a sex ed. lecture with a bunch of teenagers.

Too late. Sorry.

If James was another person, he probably would have crumpled the paper in his hand as he strode through the halls. Instead, it was folded neatly into thirds, without so much as a spare crease, and he didn't so much stride as dodged past a group of girls who belonged in middle school. Unfortunately, he recognized them, as they were in the same training class as him. They recognized him as well, which set off a round of giggling he did not join in on.

James had to get out of here.

But his escape attempts hadn't worked the past five times, so he had his sights set a little lower for now: Convince Dr. Neville that he shouldn't have to go to the sex ed seminar. It shouldn't be too hard, right? After all, he didn't need a lecture about it. Not now. And it wasn't exactly a secret that he had a kid, so if and when pregnancy came up, he was due for some uncomfortable stares.

He'd met the shrink previously, but it had only been brief, and he'd had the strangest sensation that the older man knew what he was thinking. Aristea had confirmed that, later on. She had also suggested that he go to see Dr. Neville a few days ago, after the last time he'd talked to Lucy. James had ignored the recruiter's advice, and would have been diligent about avoiding that particular office if it wasn't for the goddamn lecture.

The door was open, which was probably a bad thing. If Dr. Neville had been in a session with some depressed teenager, then maybe James would have had some time to calm down. But it was the end of the school day, and most of the staff was about to leave for their respective homes, unlike James, who was once again living in a dorm.

As soon as he stepped inside, he held out the folded piece of paper--the notice that all seniors were expected to attend the seminar--and said to the doctor. "Please, please tell me I don't actually have to go to this thing."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean considered himself fortunate that he hadn’t received any sort of discipline for the brownies; Claude had been in better spirits, perhaps because of the brownies, but they had put the incident behind them. The telepath had called his friend from college to warn him never to do it again, since he’d stopped that foolishness years ago.

Afterward, life had resumed its pace. He spoke to the students about their problems, he attended faculty meetings, and he contemplated putting out a personal ad to find a potential partner. But he didn’t go through with it, because he wasn’t over the breakup, not enough to look for someone else. Not just yet.

As time passed, and that time of year rolled around, the rest of the staff – the older ones – were teasing him again. He blamed Eliza Harding. She had promised him it would only be the once, and here it was, time for the third, with nobody to replace him. They had an on-call doctor, they had nurses, they had two biology teachers – although he wouldn’t ask Ingrid of all people to take over for him, but they had two – they had a P.E. teacher, and if he recalled from talking to people in public schools, P.E. teachers usually taught sex ed. And most importantly, Max and Jerry had graduated. Yet here he was, expected to give the lecture yet again.

Since he was liberal about birth control, he took comfort in knowing that he was doing right by the students, even if the lecture was uncomfortable for everyone involved.

But none, perhaps, more uncomfortable than James Campbell, who had entered his office just as he was editing the birth control chart. He didn’t look up immediately as the other man stepped into his office, and thus he didn’t see the paper he held out. That didn’t matter, because he immediately knew what was on the young man’s mind and what it was he referred to. “That’s an administrative matter; I’m in charge of content not attendance. But if you have suggestions, I can take them into consideration.”

[Dr. James Campbell]

James let his arm drop limply to his side as he sighed. "Yes, I have a suggestion; I don't attend." He doubted that anyone would force him to go if Dr. Neville said he didn't have to. Yes, it was compulsory, but the notice he'd received was the same as all the other senors', and if there was ever a time that he was an exception made for him, it should be now. (No, it should have been two months ago when they had brought him here. It wasn't like the training had changed anything about him, except stressing him out more.)

As he stood there, he played with the wrists of his sweater, tugging slightly on a loose string that was bothering him, and would need to be snipped off as soon as he found a pair of scissors. "I'm not trying to be difficult here," Not about this, and not yet, there were other, better things to be difficult about. "I'm just really not your audience for this. I took sex ed in high school and now I'm married..."

'For as long as that lasts,' a tiny voice in his brain said, before he tried to push it back.

"And Lucy is hours away. I know what happens, I have a daughter, so I really don't need the lecture on it." He was three years older than any other student at that time, but as he stood in front of Dr. Neville's desk, it felt like he was back in high school, trying to get out of gym class so he could avoid making a fool of himself. Only this managed to be even more embarrassing, which he hadn't thought was possible. So Congratulations, Hammel, you get that, at least.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Obviously the sex education the younger man had received in high school hadn’t worked, otherwise he wouldn’t have a daughter and be married from a shotgun wedding at his age. But the telepath kept that to himself, because it wasn’t his business. Besides, he agreed with James; it was entirely futile to lecture about sex to someone at his age. While one could always improve technique, there was no reason to review fundamentals.

However, he still had to argue that with Eliza, which was difficult since she had adopted a strict policy of always being busy whenever he tried to have a conversation with her in the two weeks leading up to the lecture. He doubted she would listen to him even if students started using condoms as water balloons. This lecture was a frustration for him and the students and a joke to the rest of the faculty. Perhaps James didn’t realize how little power he had in this matter. Lifting his head for the first time in the conversation, he replied, “My audience isn’t even my audience for this. Nobody wants to go to this lecture, with the exception of the freshmen who like to giggle at the word ‘penis.’ But when I asked for suggestions, I’d meant along the lines of wisdom you might be able to offer, since you are a father which gives you one up on me.”

Hearing the errant thought about the string on the other man’s sweater, the telepath opened one of his desk drawers. Reaching in, he pulled out a small pair of scissors and held them out – handle first – to the younger man. Without drawing more attention to James’s emotional state – and trying to give him the ability to feel productive, he said, “Here, this way you don’t have to tug.”

[Dr. James Campbell]

Maybe, years from now, the fact that he had apparently failed sex ed would be funny, but it wasn't. Not to James. Not now.

"So why do you give it at all? And if you have to, why not to the younger ones, who haven't heard it all already?" Granted, the class he'd attended had been cursory and short, but it had been way earlier than the senior year of high school.

"You don't want me saying anything to kids about being a young father." As always, he chose his words carefully. Yes, he was younger than he'd expected to be in his life plan, which had involved having children later. But his parents had been sixteen when he was born, so extrapolated, he could predict that Ginny would be about 28 when she had kids, putting the Campbells back into a more regular age range. "I had a good job back home and was able to provide for them, and Lucy was freelancing from home. It wasn't easy, but there is nothing I want to do more than go back home and be with them. I don't regret it." He shrugged slightly, "And I don't think that's the sentiment you want."

James took the offered scissors, surprised for only a moment. Right, Dr. Neville was psychic. "Oh, uh, thanks." He carefully snipped the loose thread, simultaneously giving relief for the sweater and giving him something less distracting to fuss with, as he instantly started wrapping the thread around his finger instead, and handed back the scissors.

Through all this he was still standing. Though at the beginning, when he felt that his complaint was entirely reasonable, he'd been more confident. Now, he just felt awkward and out-of-place.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Because despite all the nonsense we hear about how sex-obsessed and amoral the 90s are, there are far too many people that balk at the idea of teaching young adolescents about sex.” Sean had strong opinions about the country’s views of family planning and child rearing, despite not having a “family” in the traditional sense for someone his age. If it was up to him – that is, aside from not giving the lecture himself – it would be mandatory for anyone over the age of twelve, with anyone sixteen or older forced to attend the second half which would focus on more than basics. But nobody asked his opinions; he was simply expected to explain anatomy, pregnancy and STDs in a calm and rational fashion. “Parents think that if nobody mentions fellatio to teenagers, it won’t ever occur to them.” The psychiatrist realized that it was uncouth, but James – despite being a student – was an adult, one who had coped fine with the “real world” and was not a stranger to the concept.

“I don’t think you should regret children, so I’m glad to hear that. I didn’t mean to suggest that you should try to scare them. But any parent has information about pregnancy and childbirth that the rest of us lack since we don’t have the experience. I know how to birth a baby, but I’ve never had to give a midnight feeding.” The telepath then smiled at the younger man and gestured at the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat. There’s no reason to have to stand there while we talk.”

[Dr. James Campbell]

"I don't blame them, but I'd honestly rather Ginny hear all of this when she's a bit too young than a bit too old." Though he expected Lucy to do most of the talking in that department, since she was a woman and understood things about women that he did not. Unfortunately for James, he was not anticipating the internet, and what it would offer when his daughter was old enough to use it.

James couldn't stop the blush that spread across his face then. That particular tidbit had not been covered in his high school class, nor in the thankfully-brief conversation he'd had with his father, and it honestly hadn't occurred to him until he was seventeen, and he'd read some particularly enlightening graffiti on a bathroom wall, the one time he hadn't been able to avoid using a public restroom. But he'd deliberately isolated himself through most of high school, so that was understandable, right?

The young man looked nervously at the chair before sitting, as if taking a seat in the psychiatrist's office gave Dr. Neville the authority to ask him about his neuroses or feelings or any of the other topics that made him distinctly uncomfortable to discuss. "I don't think I'm qualified to talk about childcare anymore. I've spent two months here. That's a fourth of Ginny's life. I'd rather be giving midnight feedings than attending your lecture." James sat stiffly, his arms crossed over his chest in a way that was so defensive, even someone who had failed every psych class in existence would have recognized it."No offense."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“You and I both.” It was nice to see another person agree with him about his theories regarding adolescent maturity and the facts of life. Having a student – one who didn’t even want to be here – agree was hardly enough to make a dent in changing the attitudes of the administration, but every little bit helped.

“None taken. I’m sure you’re not the only one with that sentiment, or a similar one.” If Sean had a daughter, he would prefer to be at home with her as well. Definitely not having to listen to someone else give a lecture on sexual education. “I know it feels like she’s growing up so fast, but there’s so much time ahead. And besides, a little one wouldn’t fit in well here anyway.”

The psychiatrist reached for his coffee mug and took a sip, looking over the rim at the young man, a smile on his lips. He was about as harmful as a rose petal, and while he understood the young man’s nervousness, he was also of no immediate threat to James. And as he’d promised Claude that he would have a talk with their record-breaking student, and since James had wandered in on his own, the telepath saw no reason to waste an opportunity. “I’m sure you don’t want a touchy-feely conversation, so I’ll spare you that. Have you tried to escape today?” The upside was that Sean would know if the other man tried to lie. Not that he expected that.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"If she wouldn't fit in here, then I should be there." If the doctor couldn't even get him out of the goddamn sex-ed seminar, then he couldn't let him leave the school entirely. James didn't want to be so far away from his family, and he didn't want to be a deadbeat who had disappeared on her. Them. (Lucy was furious at him, and he didn't blame her. He was supposed to be there, providing. That's why they'd gotten married at all.)

Now that he'd gotten a response to why he'd come in--and that wasn't over, by the way. There was no way he was attending that seminar, and if he had to argue with Ms. Harding again, then he was prepared to do so--he didn't actually want to stay and have a conversation with the psychiatrist, touchy-feely or otherwise. But he'd been asked a direct question, and with his voice dripping with sarcasm, he said, "Yes, Dr. Neville. Today I tried a clever disguise. I was foiled by four kids and a dog." No, most of today had been spent getting increasingly worked up over having to attend a stupid sex ed seminar. Yesterday had involved brainstorming ways he'd be able to change his identity if his next plan worked, but still return to his home and his job. (And convince Lucy to stay with him.)

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“That’s a matter for Miss Harding and Mister Harris.” Eliza, as Head of the entire Institute, would have the authority to amend procedures, and Claude as Head of Recruiting would also have a say in the matter. Not that Sean believed that such an appeal would be successful; Hammel prided itself on not letting metas slip through the cracks. That James was twenty-two represented a failure on the part of the Institute, one that needed to be corrected. The psychiatrist was interested in the effects of the young man’s perception on his coping skills, which was why he was a resource but such matters were strictly out of his hands.

“I hope you shook your fist at them for meddling,” the telepath told him, chuckling at the comment. He doubted that James found it in the least bit amusing, but at least Sean understood the reference. He was old enough to have been a child when Scooby Doo, Where Are You? – the first in the franchise - had been in its original run. He heard the other thought, about changing his identity, and as a favor to the other man, he spoke up to warn him. “You won’t be able to change your identity. There’s a tracker on staff; he’ll sniff you out.” The young man deserved points for originality, but he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"That's now they've been finding me, isn't it?" James was sitting at the edge of his chair, again playing with the hem of the sleeve of his sweater, because his hands needed something to do with all of his extra nervous energy. But at least now he knew how they had been tracking him. Two attempts ago, when he'd reached as far as New York State; he'd been tempted to find a pay phone and call, tell Lucy and Ginny that he was coming home. "They're never going to let me go home."

Finally, James leaned back in the chair, thoughts whirring as to how he could possibly avoid the tracker, but nothing was coming to mind, mostly because he had no clue how a tracker's powers worked. "Do you think I could convince someone to let me go temporarily? Until I can convince Lucy to come up here?" The young man was simplifying the problems in his head; so long as he went back home, he'd be able to fix everything with Lucy and they could be a family again. All the problems had to stem from their separation, and if he could solve that, everything else would fall into place.

So he had to go back. Why didn't anyone understand that?

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“One of the ways.” Sean wouldn’t reveal all of Hammel’s secrets, but they had more than their tracker at their disposal. Their recruiters were quite skilled at what they did. Their security guards were equally skilled. Their Board of Trustees has connections in high and varied places. And Sean was only the second most powerful telepath at Hammel’s disposal. “And they want to let you go home, but you need to learn how to cope with your perception first.” Surely the young man had heard all of this before. Although Sean had yet to give the lecture, he knew for a fact that James was no stranger to the administration, and not merely for his Klinger-esque escape attempts.

“Honestly? No.” Sean didn’t like to be the bearer of bad news, but he wouldn’t lie to the young man to shirk being so. James deserved candor where his family was involved. “Temporary leaves of absence are regulated heavily, and at the moment, you’re grounded. The likelihood of someone looking at your record and going, ‘Well, he says he’ll come back and that’s good enough for me’ isn’t very high.” The psychiatrist could readily imagine Eliza’s reaction to that, given that she wouldn’t even find a replacement for this blasted sex education lecture. “It’s a bit of a Catch-22, since you can’t leave until you earn trust, and you’ll stop leaving once you have your family up here.”

[Dr. James Campbell]

"I had been coping for ten years. It's nice that I have a name and a reason for it now, but I wasn't hurting anyone. I can't control it, but what does it matter?" For someone who was complaining so much about being grouped in with a bunch of teenagers, for his posture and the sullen look on his face, he didn't really look like he was four years older than the rest of the students. He had been saying the same things over and over, to whoever would listen, in hopes that he could get through to someone who actually had influence, and it was tiring.

James was getting desperate--not that he wasn't already--because he was finally beginning to understand that his repeated escape attempts wouldn't let him get as far as home. "What if someone came with me? Like Aristea or that man who always brings me back, the one who can make me fall asleep?" (That was the extent of his experience with the man so far, so he didn't know his name.) "As insurance. I have to..." He didn't know if he was entirely comfortable talking like this, but since Dr. Neville was a psychiatrist, and he probably heard it all in his head anyway, "I have to go back because it isn't fair to either of them and Lucy wants to leave. If I can just go there, or she comes here, I can fix it." If he hadn't been fussing with the hem of his sleeves, his hands would have been shaking. "How can I get them to understand that?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I realize that the policy can seem a bit Draconian.” That was as much as Sean could concede while still trying to make the young man understand why it was necessary for him to remain. Yes, James was a bit of a special case, and not the way Sean had been back in his student days. James was a college graduate; he’d managed to evade Hammel’s notice for over a decade, and he had a family back home: one that he’d started rather than one to which he belonged as a child. His power was also different from many as it was perception-based rather than pyrokinesis – a power that never failed to catch Hammel’s attention immediately. But perception was like telepathy in that it could lead one to a mental disorder if not handled properly, and given what he knew about the young man’s obsessive-compulsive behavior, his powers had already done that much damage; if they could help alleviate some if not all of that, then he would benefit. “But control is important, and your life could improve with it. That’s why it matters.”

The psychiatrist admitted that the young man also had special circumstances which should at least be taken into consideration for accommodations, although his repeated escape attempts had damaged what credibility he had. But he knew that James was sincere in his pleading. “I can’t make promises because I don’t have any authority, and I don’t want you to get your hopes up because of anything I say. But you could try to explain all of that to Miss Harding and make the offer to have someone accompany you. It isn’t unheard of for a student to be escorted somewhere.” Of course, those students tended to go shorter distances and for different reasons, but older students would have more complex problems. “Try explaining that you’re worried about a divorce because of this, and that you just want someone to come with you so you can convince your wife to move.”

[Dr. James Campbell]

The things Dr. Neville was saying made a lot of sense to James, in theory. Yes, of course his life could improve if he learned how to control his power. But they'd exposed him to a power suppressor, and while he hadn't felt the itch to count or touch anything, it was like he was blinded, with all of his senses. It wasn't just his eyesight that was weakened (to the point where he suspected that if he didn't have his powers, his glasses wouldn't just be a vanity expense), but his hearing was worse, and his brain just wasn't processing information the way it was supposed to. It had been a relief when he'd gotten his power back, even if he instantly felt like he needed to wash some eerie grime off of himself. But somewhere between his usual, obsessive self and the lost, disoriented version he was without his powers, there had to be some sort of healthy balance.

James wrapped his fingers tightly around his forearms, trying to stop his fidgeting. He was an adult; he shouldn't be acting like a child who couldn't sit still in math class. "I'm sorry, sir, but no. My life isn't going to improve when I can't see my daughter. Control is important, but not this much."

"Do you really think that will work?" He'd been grasping at straws when he'd proposed being escorted back home, at least until he could get Lucy to talk to him. To remember how much better things were when they were together as a family. But if that was actually feasible.... "Lucy doesn't want to move away from her family, and she's afraid of my ability. But I think I can convince her, at least for a while." At least long enough that Ginny could remember who he was. She was going to start talking soon, and she was not going to skip saying "Daddy"