workthroughit | Follow-Up Appointment [For Harrowheart, Viatorus, Steve]

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Follow-Up Appointment [For Harrowheart, Viatorus, Steve]

The office is just where it's always been, and thankfully, there's no mind tricks that hide it from view this time. There between the glassware shop and the pharmacy is a sturdy polished door with an embossed brass nameplate bolted to the wall next to it: DR. ALAN J. HILL, MD, MPH.

Stepping inside leads to a nicely-furnished waiting room; handsome dark wooden furniture, comfy red upholstered sofas, a decent selection of Nexus magazines laid out for those looking to kill some time before their appointment. (Titles include CHOWDOWN, the leading reviews of Nexus restaurants and bars, SERVOS, a periodical for the robotic denizens of the Nexus, and WHOOPS!, a guide and advice publication focusing on LOLs, curses and similiar.) Soothing classical music is piped in by a speaker resting up on top of a bookshelf. There's no receptionist or desk designated for such. The door to the doctor's office is closed.

But after a certain point, the door opens and one of the poor mixed-up boys is called in. Looks like we're going about this one by one.

The office space is a warmly lit by streaming sunlight through a window opposite of the door. Despite the office being ground level in the Nexus, the window is clearly looking down from second floor vantage, overlooking a park and busy thoroughfare. The weather is sunny with a bit of cloud cover with no sign of snow. It looks to be a nice spring day, honestly. Out of place and strange with the cold and wintery look of the Nexus as of late.

Floor to ceiling bookshelves, an old fashioned victrola softly playing Bach, stained wood filing cabinets, a three-sectioned painting of a distinctly religious (rather demonic) nature, the familiar desk that often shows up along with the doctor in the Nexus. The banker's light, the metronome, the nameplate. The doctor himself is seated there, hands folded on the desk and wearing a smile.

After a gesture towards the open chair opposite of him, he asks, "So! Where shall we begin?"

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"Oh, certainly, certainly. That will happen in due time. But first, I would wish to know where your thoughts lie. What you've learned, what new struggles you've faced, what small triumphs you've found. I admit I'm most excited to hear your experiences out of all three, Harrowheart. Going from being a member of the undead to a living, breathing man once again? It must have been quite a time for you! For good OR ill, I hope to hear it soon."

Dr. Hill has a notepad and fountain pen at the ready, tapping his thumb against the end of the latter, still smiling.

"What I've learned?"

He can't remember the last time someone asked him that. Honestly, he can't remember the last time when he had to learn anything. He fidgets uncomfortably, rubs his hands together, runs them through his surprisingly long hair.

"I... I learned..."

His voice in Viatorus's body is so gentle. The tongue wants to make softer, British sounds, but his mind knows words in his own accent, and now and then they clash, though at other times they sound completely natural together. He and Dr. Hill are two friends with soft accents.

"That..."

Wow! It's exceedingly hard to admit something like this! Who ever would have guessed that therapy isn't easy? He clears his throat and knits his brow and tries so hard to start again with confidence, but he just can't drum up the courage to look Dr. Hill in his smiling face.

"I've been mean to people. I've been a bad person. And I thought that was because I was undead. I thought it was because of my body, but... I think... I think I used that as an excuse. I think it's not my body. I think maybe I'm a mean person. On the inside."

"Well, to be fair, you've been put in a compromising, stressful situation. You've been separated from your weapons for a good amount of time, for instance, and I've gathered that those are meaningful to you. In ways beyond just being your favourite tools of war."

The doctor jots a few notes and then sets aside the notepad so he can lean his elbows on his desk, hands folding together. "What makes you believe you're inherently cruel, Harrowheart?"

Now the introspection really starts in earnest. There are a few moments where Harrow tips his head and opens his mouth as if he's sure he's got the answer, but he stops himself after his first breath and returns to analyzing the situation. He'd felt so confident when he said it earlier, so why is it so difficult to explain himself?

"Because..." he finally tries, his body still, his eyes fixated on the painting behind the doctor. "Because I... I'm a thug."

He clears his throat. Once he's said that, his thoughts come out more clearly.

"Because when someone insults me, I wanna hurt 'em. Because when I meet certain people, I wanna make 'em scared of me. I feel better when people are scared of me. I wanna be the strongest, scariest thing when someone acts special or tougher than me. I thought that was just 'cause I was undead, but..."

Again he runs his hands through his hair, and he shrugs.

"We tried to switch our bodies and it didn't work. I got mean with Viatorus's family member. He called me a 'construct,' and I threatened to hurt him, and then... Then it was a big fight, and..."

He purses his lips again and falls silent.

"Well. What do you suppose these attempts at being the scariest being in the room stem from? I would hazard a guess it's some manner of insecurity, but insecure in what?" Rather than openly speculate, Dr. Hill just lays out the questions, further food for thought for Harrowheart to chew on.

"To be fair, being called something like a construct, implying you were made with no thoughts of your own, or were made only to serve? That's quite rude. Hurtful, even. Do you think anger wasn't the right response to such insults? Or did you go too far, Harrowheart."

Insecurity? That's awfully rude, isn't it? He lowers his brows and gives Dr. Hill the first look of the session, and what a look it is. But the doctor keeps on talking, and as the conversation progresses his expression naturally softens. His eyes shift left and right as he considers what's being said.

"Steve was mad on my behalf. I think he got it," he says slowly, "But I think most people... Don't want me to be mad when I'm insulted. They don't get why stuff hurts. People're allowed to say whatever they want to me, and I'm not allowed to get mad, 'cause then I'm outta line. And I hear it so much that sometimes I feel like... Maybe I am wrong? And it shouldn't bother me? And I oughta be used to it? But if I bottle it up, I just get madder and madder 'til the next person who comes along, I just... I explode, y'know? I explode, and then I'm really outta line, and then I got no room to complain or explain, 'cause I'm the bad guy, and that makes life easier on everyone."

His nostrils flare with a snort and he feels himself getting hot under the collar. He undoes some of the buttons of his tuxedo and loosens the cloth away from his neck so that he can fan away some of the claustrophobic sweatiness of this outfit.

"No matter what I do, I'm always the fuck-up and the bad guy. Maybe it would be easier if I was just a construct. No thoughts, no feelin's, no consciousness. But..."

He swallows hard and shakes his head. There is no 'but.'

In response to that dark look, Dr. Hill only gives a tilt of the head and a bright smile in return. If Harrowheart's desire is to make people afraid of him, he's picked the wrong target for this kind of behaviour. The worst target, honestly.

As explanation is plucked back up, the doctor squints his eyes, listening and considering as the poor bodyswapped worgen lays it out. "Anger is a natural reaction to things. Sometimes a healthy one, as there are plenty of situations where that's the reasonable response. But to bottle it up, to feel like every event of it has to be kept in check...That's not good for you, Harrowheart, nor for the people around you. It needs to come out in a constructive way and it needs to be managed properly when it's not.

"Perhaps you'd benefit from anger management sessions? I'd be happy to offer them. Your desire to be a simple creation with a singular purpose and feeling nothing sounds like a desire to distance yourself from the complexities of emotion, or to no longer deal with the hardships of having anger problems. And you have my concern and sympathy."

"Anger management?" He fully intended to ask that as if it were a joke, but it came out sounding so sincere. Is that a normal thing for a doctor to offer? Then again, this man isn't exactly a normal doctor. He doesn't say yes, but he also doesn't say no. From the look on his face it's something he'll be considering in the back of his mind before he gives any kind of answer.

"I feel kinda weird about somethin' I did at V's mansion," he says, none-too-subtly trying to return this conversation to the course of the body swap.

"After I fought his family member, he threatened to kill me. And I... I got scared. And I'm not used to that. I haven't been scared-scared, I mean scared of somethin' real, in a real long time. I forgot what it felt like to be alive, and to be scared for my life. And I also realized that... Bein' scared for your life only happens when you got a life you don't wanna lose. All the ways the world would be different without me in it flashed through my mind in a second. I didn't get that last time."

He swallows hard.

"When I was alive."

"But I get it now. I get it this time."

"Well, maybe that indicates your not just some thug. A thug wouldn't concern himself overmuch with his demise, after all.

"Do you think you'll be able to return to undeath after this is all over? Another who undertook this exercise was given the opportunity to be alive for the very first time. She's a construct in every way you resented; made by man for a singular purpose in service to man. Limited emotional range. Unable to take in sensations.

"She was very happy for the opportunity to be human for a short time. She claimed it only made her love and understand them more. Do you share her sentiment at all, Harrowheart?"

Harrow squints at that description. It sounds like someone he might know. Female pronouns, made to serve man, not alive, can't take in sensations. But... Limited emotional range? He can't be talking about Blaze. She seemed as able to feel emotions as himself. Unless...

He's not going to bother himself with the implications of that last thought.

"On the very first day I asked Viatorus if he wanted to be undead in his real body. I used to ask everyone that, but... I think I don't want to anymore. He told me that he's very happy bein' alive. And Steve, when I first got turned into him? I said it was awful, and I'd rather be dead, and it hurt him a lot. He said he was proud to be him no matter how hard it was.

"I think they helped me remember that the living deserve to live their lives, even though mine's ended. And I don't wanna call my friends 'breathers' anymore, either, even if I feel like that's easier to say. I think it was mean all along, and even when I said it for fun I kinda... Thought less about 'em when I used that word?

"But..."

He rubs at his eyes and tries to force a laugh, but it dies in his throat as a raspy wheeze.

"I got to feel some nice stuff? I tasted Earth food at a fancy dinner. I had a dream, and that was nice, even if it wasn't my own. I took a shower." He makes a single laugh that closes his eyes and pushes out the tears that had been welling there. "And it was warm. And I was warm. And it was nice."

As his whole face turns red and he continues to cry he fights with all his focus to keep up the appearance that he's smiling. Even as his throat swells and his nose and eyes are watering he struggles against his quivering lips to look like everything is still alright.

Through the cracking of his voice he says, "I know I gotta die again. I know. But I remembered there's some... Some good things in life. And if I had to make the choice all over again, to live or to die? I wouldn't choose to die. Not this time."

Edited 2016-02-29 06:22 (UTC)

Dr. Hill never visibly got up, neither were there the sounds of his chair moving and the footsteps of his approach. But he's standing next to Harrowheart now, a hand resting on the back of his chair, the other offering a tissue. He doesn't add anything in this moment. Nothing to say, just this quiet sympathy.

The doctor's mysterious ways are easily rationalized away. Harrow is immediately grateful for the tissues, but he takes them very gently and rubs his borrowed face dry with a delicate touch. His breathing evens out in short order and his moment of tears ends, though his red eyes are quietly threatening to push him over the edge again.

He starts up speaking again, his voice raw, and he finds that a change of subject comes easily. "I learned a lot about... About Viatorus and Isidor and their whole life," he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again more clearly.

"Isidor's real strong. Not just, y'know, magic-wise. She does a lot for her brother. She'd give everything up for her family. She does thankless work, and I... I respect her a lot. And she told me about how it is to be rich. That it's not all easy like I thought. That they can't trust anyone, and don't ever know why someone wants to be their friend or if they love 'em for real or for fake. And Viatorus...

"His whole family treats him like a show stallion. Like he ain't worth anything for his heart or spirit or good intentions. That guy I got in a fight with, that's all he kept bringin' up. That Viatorus deserved his body back more than any of us, 'cause he was special. Physically, I mean. Like an heir or somethin'? And that's all they cared about. And..."

He stops a moment to collect himself before he can continue. "When that man threatened my life, and I got scared? I didn't know what to do to stop him. He wouldn't listen to Isidor, and I didn't know if she could stop him if he tried. I didn't know what to do, so I... I said if he killed my real body, I'd kill myself in Viatorus's body."

His voice speeds up now; he can't explain the story or his motivations quickly enough. "I never woulda done it! I never woulda done that to my friend, but all I could think about was if my body died then Steve's soul would die, and I'd be in his body or maybe they'd just seance me out of Viatorus and send me right to Hell, and Steve's body would die, and I didn't know what to do to make the fight stop so I lied! I lied, I wasn't gonna do it. But then it brought up all kinds of bad memories for me. I started thinkin' about when I died. Isidor started shoutin' and I thought about my sister, and how she –"

He sucks in a quick breath of air and stops abruptly. He's getting off track.

"I felt awful about that lie. That everyone believed me. That nobody had any faith in me not to do that. But mostly I felt bad 'cause I betrayed my friends' trust. I threatened to take away the only person who really loves Isidor. I made Viatorus think about death and violence. I made Steve freak out and have to make a hard choice. And... And I treated Viatorus like his body meant more than his heart and his soul and all those things I wish people saw in him. I was a bad friend. I don't even know how to start apologizin'. How can I expect any of them to put their faith in me when I act like this?"

Dr. Hill listens in silence the whole while, letting Harrowheart spill his explanations and feelings, not even interjecting a nod or a 'right' or any other interruption of that nature. Just listening and listening closely.

When the conclusion comes, he sighs and hunkers down next to Harrowheart, elbows resting on his knees, flat palms together. Getting down so he's not looming over him by standing next to his chair like he was.

"Seems this went well beyond just thinking about how it is to be another person and went into the nature of souls, bodies and the ties between them. You three certainly plumbed the depths more than any other. And I think you understand Viatorus exceptionally well for this all. Realizing that, despite his wealth and prestige, he's still a person. A person expected to be one, singular thing despite his nature making him more naturally another thing entirely. I certainly don't envy him."

He's quiet another moment, thinking over his next words. Wondering what should be addressed, perhaps, and how to do so.

"I don't think you'd have done it. Hurt Viatorus like that, I mean. Despite you feeling like a thug and a brute, that sort of thing is not who you are. I sincerely believe that."

Somehow, despite having said all of this to Dr. Hill? Despite having aired so many of his personal thoughts and opened himself up to a relative stranger – a stranger who has power over him, at that – Harrowheart feels... At ease. It's calming to look at the doctor now, somehow. He's not intimidating, not judging. It's been a long while since anyone's shown him this kind of sympathy and understanding, but despite that the feeling isn't foreign. On the contrary, it feels... Right.

"His nature makes him one thing, and his heart makes him somethin' else. I see what you did there," he says, and with it comes one small yet honest laugh. He even chances a tiny, cautious smile.

And then he reaches out, and whether the doctor wants it or not, he tries to put his arms around his shoulders for something of a one-way hug. When he's there near the doctor's ear he says quietly, "I'm sorry I made all those posters that said you weren't as nice as you looked. I was wrong about you, Doctor Hill."

Dr. Hill looks momentarily surprised that he's getting a hug (he always does, the Plain Doll can attest to that) but then laughs lightly, giving Viatorusheart a pat on his arm.

"Oh, don't worry about the poster. I rather liked them. I have one in my desk for posterity. Did you draw that? It was a striking resemblance!"

Harrow lets the doctor go and returns to sitting calmly, laughing now and grateful for it.

"I drew it, yeah. But I think Steve's hand made it a little better than I usually do. He's a real good artist. Viatorus is too! He drew..."

He rustles around in his pocket and frowns when he remembers that he's not in the body he was at dinner.

"He drew a picture that I saved. He didn't like it, but I did. I think he was frustrated that my hands didn't draw as good as his, but it didn't hurt my feelin's or nothin'. I was a little sad that he didn't wanna try out bein' strong in my body, though. That's the only cool part about bein' me."

"I don't know, there's something pretty cool about being able to turn into a wolf. I'm surprised the other two didn't take advantage of that a bit more. But fair enough about the hands. I imagine it's hard to adjust to controlling the way they float on top of general motor skills."

A wolf? How did he know? The surprise shows on his face, but as soon as he asks himself the question he realizes the answer. Hill is a mentalist and a soul swapper, of course he knows small facts like that. But... What else does he know? THAT makes him fidget. Hiding his discomfort would be pointless. The guy probably knows! HE DEFINITELY KNOWS.

"Viatorus didn't want to let my hands float. He wrapped 'em up. And he didn't do any magic in my body. And... he turned into a worgen, but not on purpose. Except we had a good talk then, and I realized he reminds me a lot of myself. That I wanted to help him learn to be a man. But I'm doin' a pretty shit job of that so far, huh? How many times can a person fuck up and apologize and mean it and get forgiven? I figure he and Isidor won't want to see me again after this. Especially her."

Dr. Hill either is the most observant denizen of the Nexus or he's real good at guessing. Or he can mindread. Who knows!

"Well, I think the two of you might have a very different idea of what it entails to be a man. He has to live by a lot of rules, after all. Social expectations of what a son of his stature has to do and be. And I'm afraid a lot of his problems can't exactly be strongarmed into a solution. Although I can understand how you teaching him to be more assertive, more sure of himself, could go a long ways as well. Perhaps approach that?"

Although Harrow's other concerns come back to the forefront of his thoughts, making the doctor sigh. "If they need time to make their peace with you or your actions, I'd say give it to them. Let them settle and forgive you in their own time. What you did was shocking, certainly, but it sounds like you know that. That's what you were going for, to get everyone to stop arguing and threatening your own, actual body. But either way, don't fault them if they want a few days away."

Harrow pushes his tongue around inside his cheek and nods slowly along with Doctor Hill and everything he says on both topics.

"I guess... In a weird way... If he decides not to be my friend anymore, that means he's more assertive already. Right?" A strange thing to come to the conclusion to, but the tone of his voice suggests he's at peace with that, if that's the way things will be. "I'll give 'em their time, though. And when they're ready, then we'll talk." A single nod. "I think that sounds real smart."

Then, a laugh. "But I hope they don't friend-dump me, 'cause I think I was really gettin' along with Isidor there for a while. She and I, we got so much in common... But so much different, too. I was gonna ask her out for coffee after all'a this, but... Shoot, probably not now."

"It's big of you to be able to respect that as well. Him no longer wanting to be associated with you. I think that speaks a great deal about the person you are or the person you're becoming. Don't think Viatorus is the only one experiencing some growth here."

Dr. Hill looked like he'd just been about to stand back up and perhaps go back to his seat on the other side of the desk, but stops when he hears Harrow talk about Isador. "...Oh! Huh. So you fancy her, then?" Well, THAT'S complicated.

Doctor Hill's glowing assessment of him bring a humble smile to his face. He rubs his hands together between his legs and focuses on them in an effort to manage his shyness. This guy even compliments him. All of this is exceedingly strange but also deeply gratifying.

And then it's back to Isidor! He looks up now, smiling unevenly, and shrugs one shoulder casually. "It's not deep forever-love yet or nothin', but... She's powerful. She's funny. She laughed at some of my jokes, too! She's witty for sure, and she's pretty, too. She's got some patience for me, and she was gracious when I was in her manor. She even stuck up for me a couple'a times. Those're good reasons, right?"

"Yes, but. Ah...You didn't...try to express an interest while in the body you're inhabiting now, did you? Because I can't begin to explain how offputting that would be." Please, Harrowheart. Please say you didn't do that.

The body he's?... He looks down and – "OH! Sh-shoot, heck. Naw! No, not at all. I did in Steve's, though. But I wouldn't'a let it get physical or anything even if she'd been interested. I don't think Steve's ever kissed a lady. Or a man, for that matter. I wasn't gonna take any of that away from him."

He runs his hand idly over Viatorus's face and once more he's laughing. "Shoot... That's funny stuff. Terrible, but funny. 'Cause sometimes terrible is funny, y'know? Maybe someday we'll all look back at this whole situation and laugh. I hope so."

"Terrible is very funny at times, yes, I agree." Of course he would. "Though, not to pry, but...Do you think she'd be receptive to the affections of an undead? Or a werewolf?" These are things he assumes Harrow considers, but then again, the guy's only now learning to be introspective.

Follow-Up Appointment [For Harrowheart, Viatorus, Steve]

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