Yassen kept to himself, one leg crossed over another as he watched the interviews with rapt attention. The other doctors scribbled notes and consulted quietly with each other, but Yassen only listened with half an ear. True to Vankin's suggestion, Alex did seem to find himself repeating the same information again and again. By the fourth time, it was almost mechanical to hear the same phrases, though it clearly still brought him some stress to revisit the details.
Perhaps it was the dog helping. Yassen hadn't missed the way Alex had pointedly refused to engage with it beyond the cursory. That hadn't lasted terribly long. The dog had placed one gentle paw atop the boy's knee about fifteen minutes in, as Alex was detailing the experience of being dropped into a tank with a Portuguese Man o' War to either drown or be stung to death. Like drawing poison out of a wound, Alex's hand had eventually slid onto the dog's head, petting and stroking the hair while it gazed up at him.
Yassen would have to remember that.
To be fair to the doctors, they all seemed to be careful and respectful of Alex's stress levels. Topics of obvious distress were slowly explored around the edges and occasionally double backed for in order to break up the immediate tension. None of their questions were shocking or overly invasive; it was clear that they had been briefed on his history, thus the horrors lurking in his missions didn't come as a surprise. Another thing Alex wouldn't have to navigate. All in all, Yassen would consider it a success: the four hour conversation had clearly taken its toll on Alex, who generally tried to avoid going into detail unless he absolutely had to, and was looking progressively more exhausted and stressed as things went on. He also got snippy and sarcastic from time to time, but Yassen considered that a guarantee based on what he'd seen of Alex's time in prison when he was forced to interact with adults he didn't like.
Half watching the final interview, Yassen found himself drawn into the murmured discussions that seemed to be trailing off.
"- a lot of long term care," Dr. Stepanova emphasized, scribbling something and sitting back in her chair. She'd been second to interview the boy and seemed to have wrapped up her own notes that would no doubt be compiled into the final report. Like Yassen, she seemed to only half pay attention to the remainder of the questions: Alex had already detailed all of his missions and the worst of his symptoms, becoming more and more vague as they got closer to his current state. Yassen was surprised they tolerated that, though he supposed tonight was more about capturing the past as MI6 had been directly involved in it. No doubt there would be more interviews in the future. "It's hard to say with any certainty what is next for him. I doubt he's ready to begin therapy, much less make the switch to methadone. I won't even speculate on what steroid therapy will add to the equation. If the case intends to be made that his damage is long term, that won't be an issue."
Yassen inclined his head. "What can you speculate on the needs of his long term care?"
"Hm?" the doctor seemed startled to be addressed by him at all. Yassen certainly hadn't made an effort to speak to anyone and Vankin had wandered off an hour ago. "What do you mean?"
"What's next for him?" Yassen clarified. "If he's not ready for methadone or therapy, what do you recommend I do next?"
Stepanova considered him. "Personally, it's going to be an uphill battle. He's bright, but very suspicious of the motives of others. The quality of his self-reflection is difficult to gauge, but is not particularly strong at his age anyway so I wouldn't be optimistic. His first step should be to get on medication to manage his mental health: depression, anxiety, and PTSD. Seizures as well, though those are less important."
"He is on medication."
She dug through her sheaf of papers. "The oxycodone and xanax? That is not nearly enough to address his neurochemical needs. In fact, I wouldn't even say those medications are appropriate together."
Yassen grimaced. It wasn't a surprise, but it still wasn't reassuring to hear, either. "What else does he need?"
"He needs a licensed psychiatrist to balance his complete medications list and get him started on antidepressants and antianxiety medications. It seems like he's trying to manage those with what he's taking but those are far from as effective or precise as what he needs. It's the equivalent of putting a wooden spoon across the opening of a boiling pot; while it might temporarily keep things under control, it will boil over eventually. He needs a proper doctor, not a general physician, to make small adjustments over time. After a few months of that, perhaps he can move on to more rigorous therapy and then to rehabilitation. Steroids are something a medical doctor would understand better, but they may have psychiatric side effects that will compound his current problems. Increased aggression is what would most concern me, given his history." Her lips tightened and her glance was noticeably more critical this time. "He should have already started something by now, since he will likely struggle anyway."
Yassen considered his hands, nettled despite himself. Her criticism wasn't aimed at him specifically, but it wasn't as though Vankin were in charge of Alex's care. Yassen was, and he had put finding Alex a therapist off. Some of it was for practical concerns, like wanting to ensure Alex wasn't asked to pour out his heart and soul to a therapist that would turn around and offer transcripts to any intelligence agency that asked. It would take time to locate someone suitable. Most of his reasons, however, were admittedly more idiotic: he knew Alex would pitch a fit, had wanted to give him time to settle in to his new life, and had even secretly hoped some of his problems might resolve themselves when neither of them were looking.
Not only had Yassen been stupid, it was incredibly short-sighted. Chert. "Struggle in what ways?"
She sighed. "I suspect he will have difficulty sticking to his medication if he does not like the side effects and does not see immediate results. It will be months before he sees improvements, but the negative side effects are noticeable almost immediately. Therapy will be less productive if he isn't functioning better, at least enough to make it possible to attempt to tackle his emotional problems. Of course, he is resistant to any real or perceived attempts to influence or control his behavior, and recovery requires trusting others. He will struggle with every new step."
"How many years do you think it will take?"
"That is impossible to say."
"Ballpark it for me. I will accept a guess."
She tapped her pen absently against her clipboard. "Perhaps ten years. Easily more, only possibly less. Ten years to address the worst of it, with varying levels of functioning in between." She gave him a side glance. "Don't misunderstand. His experiences are a life sentence. He will be on medication for the rest of his life. It will not be easy. He will not be what you call average, but if he works hard and has support, he will be… okay."
Ten years. On the lower end. Yassen felt that one echo around inside his head before turning to the doctor beside her, as though he didn't feel like he'd been spartan-kicked from an airplane without a parachute. "I see. And you?"
Dr. Barker nodded. He was the youngest of the clinicians, only a few years older than Yassen himself. "About the same, I think. Ten years might seem like a lot, but you have to consider how many adjustment issues he already has versus how many he will face transitioning into adulthood. It's very important he get guidance, however; while he's reluctant to discuss his own personal belief system, it's clear that the way he's evaluating situations is neither healthy for a child nor an adult. Any more delays in treatment during his teen years drastically decreases the odds he leads a well-adjusted life at all."
"I concur," Stepanova murmured.
Inside the interview, Dr. Tanaka snapped his fingers. "Alex? Alex?"
Alex stared straight ahead, fingers half tangled in the dog's fur near her neck. The canine headbutted his knee to no repsonse. After a long few seconds, he came back to life abruptly. "-after which, Mrs. Jones told me I was done. Again. I didn't believe her, of course. I wanted to but I knew better by then."
"Are you aware of any missing time just now?" Tanaka asked him gently.
Alex sighed and fidgeted, sparing a quick glance at the camera. "Another absence seizure?"
Dr. Werner glanced back at the interview room briefly as Yassen turned his attention to him. "Ten years might be too optimistic, in my opinion, but not entirely outside of the realm of possibility. His drug use concerns me greatly. It's probably the least healthy yet easiest coping mechanism he has, but he's not old enough to really understand how serious it is. Impulse control will be a major factor in him making even a small amount of progress, assuming he's capable of developing any neurologically."
Dr. Barker hummed and glanced through his papers as Vankin returned, still staring at his phone screen. "Good point. I don't see any notes about brain damage being confirmed."
Yassen managed not to flinch. "The last time he was examined was when he was in the hospital recovering from the bullet wound to his hip. His EEG was inconclusive, since he did not have any seizures during the procedure. He was scheduled for an MRI but he was discharged before it could be performed."
Stepanova glanced at her own notes and shrugged. "I can go either way on this. He could be brain damaged or he could just be an emotionally stunted teenage boy." She snorted softly, lips twisting with absent wryness. "They are close, but not quite the same thing."
Dr. Werner waved a hand. "It's a bit beside the point, of course. Either way, I don't think we dug into his current state enough to really be able to make a plan going forward. It would probably take a few months of regularly scheduled therapy sessions before we'd have a definitive accounting of his current issues, much less set manageable goals. This is all just speculation, for the most part."
Vankin gestured to Yassen. "Come. I need to speak with you."
Yassen glanced back at Alex, still wrapping up his final interview with Dr. Tanaka. "Unless Alex is done, I will stay."
Vankin gave him a thin look. It was nearing midnight and while the signs that he was running ragged were less obvious, they were definitely present and accounted for. "Fine." He turned to the doctors. "You should have everything you need. Finish up in the conference room. You can review the tapes later, if needed."
Nobody bothered to conceal their eagerness to leave, with many an open glance at the hanging clock beside the door. Yassen was careful not to show too much interest in the SVR agent as the doctors gathered their things and relocated.
Vankin took only a minute before coming to stand toe to toe with the observation mirror, watching the interview conclude just beyond. "Stop contaminating my assessors," he grumbled. "This is evidence."
Yassen gave him a dry look. "As if preparing the boy, taking him to a secret facility, and then showing him the two way mirror wasn't contamination enough. Do not criticize. I want as many opinions on his care as I can get."
Vankin crossed his arms but didn't argue the point. They both knew the interview just had to look good. 'By the book' had more to do with the successful marketing of evidence, rather than an actual quality of it. "I just conferred with the rest of my team. We should have what we need on a baseline for MI6's abuse, so the rest of the case is going to entail proving the long term consequences. It seems that Smithers will have little issue proving Alex went on missions, so we're focusing on physical impairments, confirming the A216, and the emotional suffering angle."
"You'll need more cooperation," Yassen said flatly. He was hardly surprised.
"Indeed we will. I understand your position in not trying to push him too hard given today's little incident, and I will try to accommodate, but much of this needs to happen within the month. Blood tests. Medical exams. Proving they gave him brain damage sounds promising, so there will be imaging done for that as well. As non-invasive as possible, but quite urgent."
Yassen gave him a thin look. "Fast-tracking a trial?"
"Not at all," the man returned. "It has more to do with the disappearing nature of the evidence. He has not received an injection in quite some time. God help us if he grows before we can definitely prove it is in his bloodstream." Vankin inclined his head at the camera. "And don't forget, the more sympathetic and young he looks in the videos, the better. He will likely look far more like an adult by the time he must appear in front of a judge. We must take advantage of his unnaturally preserved youth while it's here."
"Fine." Yassen knew perfectly well there was no real choice. Vankin had a point: the evidence was impermanent but important. If it had to happen, Yassen preferred it all at once anyway. It would be unpleasant, then Alex and he could move forward.
"In the meantime," Vankin continued. "We must begin a papertrail to prove we have done everything to ensure Alex's emotional recovery. Weekly therapy sessions after school or on the weekends should do nicely."
Yassen narrowed his eyes. "That's quite the time commitment. And he will be reluctant to speak to more strangers about the same matters over and over. I do not believe it will be a productive use of his time."
Vankin shrugged. "It's a formality. There is no need to keep discussing his missions. He must only speak a little to his current issues like his drug addiction and only then for perhaps an hour a session. We simply aim to prove our efforts to provide him adequate care- the care that MI6 did not. It would also be nice to have someone else who may testify to anything else we can lay at the feet of Blunt and Jones. Respected medical professionals are generally received well by the courts." He gestured at the door the doctors had disappeared through. "You may pick whichever of the four he liked best today. As you might have guessed, they have all been cleared. Extremely well qualified."
Through the glass, Alex gave Nina the Dog a farewell pat and plodded tiredly through the door, likely ready to glare at Yassen for the rest of the night, crawl in bed, and swear never to speak to a doctor ever again.
Yassen sighed and stood. "I will speak with him about it."
