Chapter Fourteen
Rude Awakenings
"Nobody use their wand! The incantation is already active and the result might be catastrophic,"
"Sirius! Be careful, for god's sake don't drop it!"
"How dare you…try…to…stop…me! You will die for your insolence, and it will be far from painless! Find them! Find them and destroy them all!"
"Something is wrong with the cloak, something's not right, it shouldn't be getting so hot,"
"Ratfly's here, help must be on the way,"
"Lorcan, stop! The Cloak is overloading!"
"We need to get out of here,"
"Destroy them! Destroy them all! We must prevail, we must prevail!"
Something was wrong, a part of Severus realized suddenly. The voice at the end hadn't sounded like Lorcan's at all. Blinding light enveloped them as the seal was cracked, and there was a familiar face in the light and a woman's chuckle suddenly magnified.
"Do you remember the time I told you that you would never be rid of me?"
"No, Severus, she doesn't. Just as I told you she wouldn't. Jennifer is lost forever now."
"I don't believe it."
"You said yourself that belief is often influenced by fears."
"And I have survived and seen beyond it!"
"Have you? Don't be so sure. There are still many battles left for you to lose. And I have decided to stay around long enough to watch you suffer with them. Won't that be fun? At least it will be for me. Before the end you'll lose everything, you know. Everything you've ever thought was worth living for. What will you fight for then, Severus? Or in the end will you merely crumble from your own despair and end it yourself? I suppose I could tell you, but then, that wouldn't be any fun for me, would it?"
Severus sat straight up on his couch, pouring with sweat. He rubbed his face as he thought about the nightmare he had had… or was it more than that? The presence of Ciardoth in his dreams had been more than a little disturbing, and so mocking and hateful. It was as if she truly had entered his thoughts, contaminating them with her own. Severus muttered to himself, realizing that over the course of the last few months he had not kept up with his mental disciplines. But after he sat up and pondered the possibility for a moment, he happened to glance at his watch.
Leaping up and cursing loudly, he threw on his robes and grabbed his notes, dashing out the door and down the stairs, wishing he were coming from the study as he cut across the landings to get as quickly to the second floor as possible. His bored class were still sitting with their books open but had been talking to one another for quite some time… over a half an hour, in fact, before Severus' presence immediately quieted the nervous first years, looking over at him and his bedraggled appearance with intense curiosity.
"Hand up your homework now, please. I expect there will be no incomplete ones among them since I gave you extra time to work on them this morning," Severus snapped. "And you should have finished your reading as well. Take out some parchment; we're going to have a quiz…" as he picked up the papers he paused at the center row, noticing the empty seat. "Mr. Hagrid, where is your partner in crime? Why isn't Mr. Snape here?"
"Actually, he left just a few minutes before you got here, sir," Halbert admitted. "I believe he went to talk to Professor McGonagall." Severus stared at him a moment before proceeding to pick up the papers.
"Then I suppose he'll just have to make it up," Severus snapped. "Books off the desks, please."
Just then there was a rap at the door, and Severus looked up unsurprised to see Minerva standing there.
"Might I speak with you a moment, Professor Snape?"
"Can't it wait until after class?" Severus suggested, taking the offered paper from Andrew who had just come in, frowning at him in annoyance.
"Oh, yes. Good idea. First years, class dismissed. I expect you should use it to study for the pop quiz he most undoubtedly threw at you today," Minerva said in such a wry voice that the students were staring at her with almost exactly the same expression that Severus was.
"You can't just come in here like that and dismiss someone else's class, especially…"
"Oh, yes I can. I'm the Deputy Headmaster, and temporary post or not, I'm still the senior faculty member here. Class dismissed." As the two of them stood like two kettles about to boil over, Andrew quickly grabbed his books and Hagrid's arm, intent on being the first one out of there. Taking their example, the rest of the class followed, chatting excitedly the moment they were out the door.
"I can't believe you are pulling seniority on me now, after what we've been through the last ten months! After what I've been through…"
"Yes, Severus, I know. I've been here too. I also know that in the twenty-five years that you've been teaching, you've never been this late to class short of disaster and have never overslept a class, ever. Are we in agreement that is what has occurred on this particular occasion?"
"A half an hour, Minerva," Severus said at last.
"A half an hour from you is like someone else sleeping in two hours. You ran around the entire weekend to attend visitations, Hogsmeade, the game, conferences, and all of that after two nights of no sleep running between two continents on top of your teaching and other responsibilities. I think for the good of the school as well as yourself that you take a few hours to take care of yourself for a change. And that not only includes sleep, food, and a clean robe, but a trip to Sagittari as well. You are as thin and as pale as rice paper, and if I know you, you had a full appointment book this afternoon and plans to sneak away tonight to check on Jennifer again."
"Minerva, I have already put off visiting her for over a day. I must go back and find out what they have her on."
"Fine, I won't argue with that. You're right that it must be done, and your first duty is to her. But I'm not about to sit here and watch you collapse in front of a class because of it. I'm going to cancel your classes today and take your appointments. Hermione can help with my workload, I'm sure; she's been a godsend to me these past few months. You just spend the day pulling yourself together again, Severus. Dumbledore should be back in a couple days at most, and I'd rather he not find you on the floor when he arrives. The impromptu quizzes can wait a day," Minerva said firmly, tapping the door with her wand. Immediately a note went up, announcing to students the cancellation. "Oh, and I wouldn't try to take that down if I were you," Minerva said with an enigmatic smile, closing the door behind her.
Severus slumped into his chair, a bit depressed and angry with himself for not being more careful. He probably would have sat there a great deal longer had not Rasputin lumbered out of his office, putting his head against Severus' leg.
"Do you know how long it's been since I've had a mouse instead of kibble?" Rasputin inquired.
"I should have known you weren't out here for support," Severus grunted, petting his familiar on the back of the head anyhow before he got up.
"I support much better on a full stomach," Rasputin decided.
Feeling a tad guilty for his familiar's even pretentious neglect, Severus gave him two mice out of the cage instead of one. Then he turned his attention to his own hunger, but suddenly found himself craving stale danish and coffee. He glanced at himself briefly in the mirror and did a double take, frowning at himself. Well, he had quite a number of hours before breakfast there, he mused, perhaps he did have time to crash and get himself back into Mycroft again. Sighing wearily, he grabbed a handful of licorice and went upstairs.
Monday was in many ways Jacqueline's favorite day of the week, even if it was followed by her least favorite day: Tuesday, the dreaded appointment day. But it was also the day that Mark went back to work, and even though that meant she was back on the couch (Mark often watched T.V. late on the weekends so she always got the bed), it also meant she was free to be by herself. She wouldn't have to dodge his attempts to be nice, and even more importantly, his attempts at cooking. So when he came in to turn on the morning news, she merely sat up without complaint when he kissed her on the cheek.
"Sleep well? Any dreams?" Mark asked, heading back over to the coffee he had started a few minutes before.
"No, no dreams," she said, staring for a moment at the annoying news anchor as she went on and on about reports attempting to link the burglar with a recent murder. "Mark, if you have to watch this thing, why don't you watch something that's not so… depressing."
"I need to keep up on world events, Jackie, the littlest thing can effect the entire market. Somebody blows up a small oil drill halfway around the world and prices on a hundred different stocks jump or drop," Mark explained, handing her a cup of coffee and her medicine.
"Does that include the Fifth Avenue Burglar?" Jacqueline asked boredly, glancing at it again as they spoke of a possible eye witness, and put up a composite sketch. She did a double take then, staring at it for a long time and feeling a bit strange. Perhaps the hair was different, and he certainly didn't wear black, but those eyes… she imagined a pair of spectacles on him. No, that was the silliest idea she had ever had, she told herself. There was no way the man in the composite was Mycroft. Suddenly she noticed that Mark was watching her quite intently. "Really, Mark, you know how I hate the news."
"You seemed rather enthralled a minute ago. I don't suppose you've seen anyone at work that looks like that?" Mark asked.
"No," Jacqueline said, waving it off. "He just seemed familiar for some strange reason." His gaze stayed on her for a while longer, nodding slightly.
"Well, just be careful. I don't like you being over there at night and they're trying to tie this guy to a murder now," Mark said.
"Oh, Mark, honestly! I work across the street!" Jacqueline said exasperated, taking the pill and a quick sip of coffee before standing and sitting it on the counter. "There's always people around. What do you want me to do? Start having a nightly escort?"
"Hm, not a bad idea…"
"If you suggest it to Erascus, I shall have to hurt you," Jacqueline threatened.
"Actually, that might be fun," Mark teased, immediately getting hit in the arm. "Yes, see, that could be fun."
"Would you just go to work?" Jacqueline said.
"Okay. But not until you hit me again."
"Out! Out!" Jacqueline flailed as he shielded himself with his paper, ducking out the door.
She chuckled softly, shaking her head as the door closed. Glancing at the television, which had gone into some rather unentertaining report on haunted house tours in the area, she sighed and turned it off. Well, for all she knew, she wouldn't ever see Mycroft again, considering that he seemed to have randomly stumbled into Kingler's and didn't particularly fancy the menu. But then, he didn't really fit in at the French restaurant either.
She groaned softly at the thought of how bad things had gone that night, getting up to turn off the coffee pot and dump out Mark's horrendous coffee. What a pain Mark had been! Of course he was even more of a pain the next morning, whining like a baby about his head when he did finally decide to get up. She was still debating whether or not to talk to Erascus about getting the dates canceled, but Mark had made it obvious, even when sober, that he didn't think it was a good idea. Perhaps he was right, she decided, but wasn't looking forward to trying it again this week. Throwing on a jacket, she went outside, shivering as she stepped out into the chill wind and dashing to the crosswalk, slipping inside the café door.
"Please! Someone save me from bad coffee!" Jacqueline chuckled, waving to everyone as she went over to the bar.
"Ever tried Starbucks?" Tony asked, immediately getting boos from several of the other regulars.
"Now you know I'm not allowed to go more than two blocks on my own," Jacqueline said, thanking Sally who handed her a cup.
"Now what does that remind me of?" Rob said, peering at her from the back room. "Oh yeah, lose the shrink."
"You know if I could, I would," Jacqueline said, warming her hands around her cup before drinking it.
"And how exactly do you cash your checks if you can't get to a bank?" Rob asked.
"Isaac, usually, but he has an ATM machine in his shop, too," Jacqueline said.
"You know, I think you should take one of these mornings when no one's around and go see more of the city. Tony could show you more of the city, couldn't you, Tony?" Sally suggested.
"Ya, and I can even show you what parts to avoid when you're exploring," Tony said. "What do you say, we can go out this morning if you wanna."
"It'd be just my luck that would be the moment Doctor Erascus came looking for me," Jacqueline said.
"You are more than capable of making your own decisions, Jacqueline, lost memory or not. And there is nobody out there qualified to judge what's best for you but you. It's your life, no one else has the right to run it," Sally said, looking up at the customer that had just walked in.
"That is good advice, Mrs. Kingler," Mycroft said. Jacqueline turned to look at him, her eyes studying him with a rather peculiar look on her face as if debating something. "And you should never trust anyone completely until you've learned to trust yourself," he added, taking a seat at the bar next to her.
"Easy to say when you haven't lost your memories," Jacqueline said with a wry smile.
"No, I believe having them would make it harder to say," Mycroft said. "What have you to judge yourself by except for the present? You have no past full of mistakes or regrets to mull over."
"Well, from what I know of my past, I'm not too impressed at the moment," Jacqueline admitted. "I'd rather know that somewhere in my life I've taken a few chances, failures or not. Anything rather than believe I was just a girl with no family who hasn't been able to hold a job or ditch her codependent boyfriend."
"Oh, yes, how did your evening go the other night?" Mycroft asked politely.
"It was a disaster, it's always a disaster," Jacqueline said. "What about you, are you seeing anyone?"
Mycroft hesitated, glancing away.
"I lost a wife recently," he said after a moment.
"Oh," Jacqueline grimaced, kicking herself for asking. "I'm sorry."
"We all have challenges in life," he said carefully. "Mine is to find a meaning in losing her. Yours, I suppose, is to forge a future with your interests at heart and not someone else's, no matter what that might entail," he said, sipping his coffee. "Of course, there will always be those wanting to influence those decisions, but they can't make them for you unless you let them."
"And just how do you propose we go about accomplishing those tasks?" Jacqueline said, her chin in hand.
"One step at a time. Is there any other way?" he asked softly. Jacqueline smiled at him thoughtfully, gazing at him until Sally came around again to fill their cups.
"I know what a good first step would be, Jacqueline. Why don't you take one of the rooms? At least it'll get you out from Mark's thumb," Sally suggested, Jacqueline shaking her head dubiously.
"Rooms?" Mycroft asked.
"Yeah, we rent rooms on the second floor. It helps makes ends meet in January and February when we're slowest. You'd do a lot better on your own, Jackie."
"I don't know, Sally," Jacqueline said. "I just get a bad feeling about what would happen if I tried to move out. Besides, I'd really hate to do that to Mark."
"Do you love him?" Mycroft asked expressionlessly.
"Are you kidding? I'm just now starting to like him," Jacqueline said. "But that doesn't mean I want to hurt him, and I know he does care for me in some way. Not to mention everything he's done for me…"
"Did you ask him to do it?" Mycroft interrupted.
"What?"
"Since that moment you woke up, was there any time that you asked him to take you in, get you a psychiatrist, pay the bills, or whatever else you feel indebted to him about?"
"No," Jacqueline said. She watched him intently, wondering why he never met her gaze.
"Would you have asked him to?"
"No, of course not," Jacqueline said. "It's not as if I even recognized him. I would have made it through somehow."
"Then it seems to me that since you had no decision in the matter, you aren't under any obligation for what he chose to do on his own. Just because he chose to help without asking doesn't mean that you have no rights to decline it," Mycroft said.
"What is it that you teach again?" Jacqueline said after a moment.
"Humanities," he said, sipping his coffee.
"I think you should listen to him, Jacqueline. He's right, you know," Sally said, accepting the bill from Mycroft.
"Ever thought of going in psychiatry?" Rob asked him, leaning against the kitchen door with his arms folded.
"Oh, there's plenty of that in teaching as well," Mycroft said dryly, getting up.
"Come in anytime, Professor," Sally said warmly. "Soon, preferably."
"I'll be back tomorrow evening, I think," Mycroft said, nodding politely to Jacqueline and Sally before heading out the door.
"Now him," Rob said, waiting for Mycroft to step out of view. "Him I could see you with."
Jacqueline, who had been staring at the door in a thoughtful daze looked up with surprise after hearing Rob, blushing and cleaning up her coffee mess.
"Rob, be reasonable. You heard him, he just lost a wife, and I'm sure he's hardly interested in an amnesia inflicted café waitress," Jacqueline protested.
"I don't know, he does seem to revolve around you when he's here," Sally agreed. "Even that first day he came in. And he's not the only one that seemed drawn. Looks to me it's the other way around too."
"Honestly," Jacqueline sighed. "You're both reading way too much into things. I bet it's just because you want to see me away from Mark." Rob shrugged.
"You could be right," he admitted. "But you know it's funny, the way he talks reminds me a lot about Erascus in some ways, yet his logic pans out better to me, no matter how intellectual Erascus sounds."
"Yes, but there's something about the professor that doesn't seem quite right either," Jacqueline said. "He's so out of place."
"Well what do you expect? He's out of his own country," Sally said. Jacqueline nodded, but as she turned to the door, part of her couldn't help but think there was more to it than that.
After a brief stop at the grocery to check for new books and to grab a sandwich, Jacqueline went back upstairs, book in hand as she absently unlocked the door and stepped in. Feeling a chill, she noticed the door of the balcony was open. Did she leave it like that? Puzzling over it a moment, she set down her book and went over to close it, but as she did, she noticed something hanging along the bottom of the balcony above her.
It was a bat. Not only that, it was huge, much larger than she thought a normal bat got. Suddenly the slumbering bat woke and noticed her, quickly flying off as she immediately dove for cover in the protection of the apartment, shutting the glass door.
She stared out at disbelief for a moment, wondering what she had just seen and felt a cold sensation not completely caused by the temperature of the room itself. Immediately she glanced around at her books, realizing she that hadn't had enough sense to get a set of encyclopedias yet. Muttering, she turned on the computer, gnawing on her sandwich as she put in a simple word and got a thousand website entries for things that didn't have anything remotely to do with what she was looking for. Growling in annoyance, she turned it back off again with a sigh, heading to the kitchen cabinet to get her medicine.
But what she found instead was an open cabinet and no pills in sight. She stared into the cabinet, feeling her jacket pockets. No, she hadn't taken him with her. Cursing slightly, she checked near the couch, bed, and in the bathroom to no avail. They simply weren't there. Jacqueline winced, wondering what to do. If she told Mark, he'd surely blab to Erascus, who'd definitely be furious. Well, she was just going to have to pretend she had taken them, she mused. It wasn't as if they seemed to be helping her in any way anyhow.
She had settled in with her book and had been reading a few hours when a rather intense headache began behind her temples. Turning on a few lights to ease the eyestrain and taking a moment to get a drink, she tried again, but nothing seemed to be helping. It was at that point that Mark came home, bags in hand.
"I hope you're in the mood for Mandarin," he said cheerfully, shutting the door with the back of his foot. "You haven't spent the whole day reading again, have you?"
"No, but feel like I have," Jacqueline admitted, rubbing her forehead again.
"Then you're probably just hungry. You don't eat enough," Mark said, setting the food on the bar.
"It's just that there's not that much that appeals to me," Jacqueline said, grimacing at the smell when Mark opened the containers.
"I think I'll just have a pumpkin butter sandwich," she decided, grabbing one of the cokes.
"Have you eaten anything else today?"
"Sure, corned beef," Jacqueline said, rummaging in the fridge.
"You're just going to get sick eating like that," Mark sighed. "Don't forget to take your medicine," he added, turning on the T.V.
"I didn't forget," Jacqueline said, pretending to get in the cabinet while watching Mark get settled in front of the set. "Can I take the bed tonight? I'm not feeling all that hot."
"See? What did I tell you?" Mark said, glancing looking over at her.
"I think I just read too much or something," Jacqueline said. She frowned then as she looked at him, hearing something rather like a voice in the back of her head.
"What did you mean by that?"
"What did I mean by what?"
"That it's something every minute with me," Jacqueline asked. Mark stared at her.
"You did take your medicine, right?"
"Yes, stop pestering me!"
"Maybe you're right. Maybe you ought to take the bed," Mark said, watching her warily. Jacqueline realized immediately that he didn't quite believe her. Another sharp pain went through her head. "Yes, why don't you lie down? You might want to mention to Erascus tomorrow about the headaches." Jacqueline bit back her anger, knowing full well he would tell him even if she didn't mention it. Putting down her half-eaten sandwich she headed to the bedroom, refusing to look at him any more. "Don't forget to take your night pill."
Jacqueline closed the door behind her and glared at it venomously. She was sick of all of this! But what in the world could she do? Holding her head a bit, she collapsed on the bed, and it wasn't long under the pressure of the headache that she fell asleep.
It was nearly two a.m. before she woke up again with a start, feeling the need for fresh air, a bit disoriented. She tiptoed past where Mark was sleeping and slipped out the balcony door, breathing in the frosty air.
She had a dream. The first, in fact, that she had ever remembered having. Granted, it was hazy, and even now she couldn't remember the details, only that she had been a forest, asleep, and she couldn't wake up, no matter what she tried. There was fire, and white horses… was it horses? … and several people talking around her. Why couldn't she hear them? Why couldn't she answer? A man in a hood was over her, but although she was aware of him, she couldn't open her eyes to see his face. A gentle, kindly, voice was asking him something, but so fiercely did she strain to hear what the question was, she had opened her eyes and woke up. She glanced out on the balcony at where the bat had been, but he wasn't there now. Even that was beginning to seem like a dream. Still, she thought, at least she had one.
Severus handed Glen Witolf the solution he had requested, hovering almost anxiously as the old man worked. The night pill had been quite easy for Severus to determine; a simple potion for inhibiting the remembrance of dreams, one that he had often taught in third year Potions class. The day pill, however, had been a mystery. Even after searching both his and his wife's old books, he couldn't fathom its purpose, except perhaps as a mildly addictive stimulant. It did explain her irritability, he mused, but frustration alone could have accounted for that. No, there had to be something else, something he had missed. Fortunately for Severus, one of the few alchemists who could have helped him happened to be teaching at the school at present.
"Quite interesting, quite interesting indeed," Glen said, making Severus even more impatient.
"Anything yet?" Severus asked when he didn't say anything else.
"Now, you of all people know this sort of work takes time," Glen said. "Care for some chamomile brew?"
"I'm fine," Severus snapped, pacing a bit. "I merely find it a cruel irony that her own invention was used against her."
"The Potion Pellets," Glen nodded. "Based on Muggle medicine, I believe."
"And now used to convince her they're Muggle made," Severus snarled.
"Yes, not to mention this particular formula has her fingerprints on it," Glen said. "Perhaps a few of yours too, although I've noticed some of your work has been influenced by hers and vice versa over the years…"
"I beg your pardon?" Severus asked with a frown.
"Well, no alchemist makes potions precisely in the same way or with the same methods," Glen said. "Everyone develops their old style… as readable to a trained eye as the strokes of an artist. Whoever made this was influenced by you and your wife's work."
"A student?" Severus asked, sitting down at the thought.
"Quite possibly," Glen agreed. "Either that or someone heavily influenced by your work in some way. Whoever it is seems to have a lot of potential in the field, but from what small mistakes I've found in this formula, I'd say never pursued a career in alchemy."
"That would leave out Draco then," Severus said unsurely. Glen chuckled.
"No, I could spot his formulas a mile away and his resemble yours a lot closer than this. A very no-nonsense sort of potion Draco made the short time he was in the business. It's probably why he grew tired of it. Well, that and his overpriced substandard ingredients, of course. No, he's much better suited as a solicitor of law, I think."
Severus relaxed slightly.
"Could someone have possibly mimicked her styles intentionally?" he murmured.
"Yes, although if so, they had studied her quite closely," Glen nodded. "As for the formula itself, I think I've figured out what it does, although I'd prefer to find someone to test it on to make sure. It's perfectly safe, except perhaps for a bit of discomfort when the stimulant wears off if it's overused," he said, watching the test drop bubble on the solvent he had made out of the day pill. "But I think that the stimulant is mainly there to try to counterbalance a slight depressive effect that this inhibitor would have."
"Inhibitor?"
"Yes, unless I miss my guess, this was designed to blind her natural telepathic ability…Truth Seeking, as you generally call it, by leaving the mind unable to focus to a point. Its effects would be nearly imperceptible to most people, actually, but to a Truth Seeker, the effect would be quite dramatic," Glen said.
"Then that would explain… hm, quite a lot, actually," Severus mused. "They wouldn't have been able to keep her in the dark long had her Truth Seeking been active, especially if Mark is as magicless as I think he is. She should have been able to see right through him. In fact, in some ways, I think she still can. How effective would this be on her?"
"I'm not completely positive. I'd need another Truth Seeker to test it to know for sure," Glen admitted.
Audi Belle was more than willing for the task, taking no longer than an Owl Post before she was at the school gates and ready for the experiment. She took the offered pill thoughtfully and gazed at the two intent faces, waiting for her to say something.
"I think it would have been easier to swallow with water," she decided.
"Never mind that," Severus snapped. "What's the difference?"
"Don't rush me, son, things don't just manifest themselves, you know. So, um, what's she like now? How different is she?"
"In some ways I hardly recognize her," Severus sighed, suddenly lost in thought. "In others, it amazes me the ways that she's still the same. I can almost see the woman I had first met in her expressions, her defiance…" he caught himself then, shrugging it off. "Her eating habits haven't changed much either."
"I can feel the emotion behind what he's saying," Audi said quietly. "But I couldn't read the thoughts behind them. Did you have any defenses up?"
"Did it appear like I had any up?" Severus snapped.
"Well then, I guess that answers it. Jennifer is just a tad under my strength as a Truth Seeker; she never uses it as intensely as I do, not having ever been a professional one," Audi said, glancing at Glen who was nodding at her. "She'd still be able to sense how they felt about what they're saying… like whether what they are saying is something they hate saying or if they really mean it. She might be able to tell if someone's lying, but only if they didn't like the idea of actually doing it... lying, that is."
"So she may sense my lies before she senses theirs," Severus said with a frown.
"Direct lies, I'd think so, yes," Audi agreed. "Of course, who knows exactly what those folks put out when they're talking to her? You can bet that it'd show up in her behavior towards them, whether she trusts someone or likes them and what not."
"Then perhaps we should leave her on these for now," Severus mused, glancing at the bottle thoughtfully. "If she were to see everything, she may run the risk of saying something that puts her safety into jeopardy."
"And the dream pills?" Glen asked.
"Those will need to be disposed of," Severus said. "If she has any subconscious memories they'll appear in her dreams, which is probably what they are afraid will happen. But perhaps if we allow her to figure out what that particular pill is doing, she'll stay off of it on her own. She dislikes the 'doctor' enough that I doubt she would tell him if she were dreaming."
"But how are you going to keep her on the one but not the other?" Audi frowned.
"I have no idea," Severus admitted, sitting back in his seat. "I suppose I'll just have to suggest it to her."
Mycroft couldn't help but feel a bit concerned about Jacqueline's somber appearance when she arrived at the café for work the next evening, although Sally and Rob both didn't seem surprised by it. Emma tsked from where she sat at the other end of the bar, shaking her head a bit when Jacqueline slipped behind the counter.
"Another rough session with the psychiatrist?" Emma inquired as Jacqueline went back to get her apron.
"Yeah," Jacqueline sighed. "I accidentally misplaced my prescriptions and he found out. Boy was he livid. Threatening to put me under house arrest again."
"He'd better not try it," Sally said, "We'll be having words with the state about it."
"That man needs his license revoked," Rob agreed.
"And to think Mark would have gone and told again after the last time!" Emma said, remembering the phone call.
"No, I don't think Mark said anything, although I think he would have if I hadn't," Jacqueline admitted. "I made the mistake of telling Erascus that I was having headaches and apparently it was due to not taking my day pill. I only lost a couple, and he treats me as if I'm a criminal for not taking them."
"What sort of prescriptions?" Mycroft asked.
"They're supposed to help me remember things, but so far it's not been working," Jacqueline said.
"May I? I happen to know a bit about pharmacology. In fact, I taught it before my current subject," Mycroft said. Jacqueline quickly went to get in her jacket.
"Is there anything you don't know about, Professor?" Sally asked.
"More than I would often like to admit," Mycroft said dryly, glancing over the bottles that Jacqueline handed him, glancing over the labels as if studying them. "This indeed has a stimulant in it that would give you headaches if you stopped taking it, but it is safe otherwise," he said almost casually, setting it down on the counter. Part of him refused to allow himself to hand it directly back. It was regrettable; a necessary evil, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever get a chance to explain why. "Hm. This is odd," he said, glancing at the other bottle, Jacqueline picking up the first one but looking expectantly at him.
"What is it?"
"This is something normally used to treat conditions where someone has too many dreams that cause high stress or anxiety. You won't be remembering many dreams at all on that," Mycroft told her, looking at her in the eye as he passed it back.
"You mean this was stopping my dreams?" Jacqueline said.
"From remembering them, yes," Mycroft nodded.
"Then that'd account for… well, I remembered my dream last night," Jacqueline admitted.
"Really?" Emma said with interest. "Did you dream about Mark?"
"No," Jacqueline frowned.
"How about ditching Mark?"
"Emma!" Sally frowned at her. "You keep that up and I will let your cup run out!"
"I was only curious," Emma protested.
"Really it was nothing worth repeating," Jacqueline assured her. "All I ended up dreaming about was sleeping in a forest and not being able to wake up. Until I finally did, of course."
"Oh, I hate those sorts of dreams, they're so exhausting," Sally said understandingly, putting a quick arm around her. "But I am glad to hear you finally remembered something."
"It sounds to me like you fell asleep watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs," Emma chuckled.
"I don't think I've seen that," Jacqueline said, earning a laugh from the old woman. "But in any case, I certainly don't think it's much to do with anything, do you?" But when she looked over at Mycroft, he had a distant, almost haunted look in his face, caught in his own thoughts. "Professor?"
"I think any dream is probably a good start," he said at last. "Although I cannot think of any reason why the doctor might have wanted you to take these in your situation. It appears to me that you would do better without them."
"Yes, it is strange," Jacqueline agreed, a part of her stomach sinking as she put them back. She had always felt in some way that the doctor didn't want her to get better. Was this perhaps the proof that what she felt was at least partially true?