Topic of conversation

Doctor Hayley June flicked down her sunglasses before stepping out of Tracy 2 into the brilliant tropical sunshine. It wasn't her first visit to Tracy Island, she'd known the family for years, starting with Scott and slowly being introduced to the rest, but it had been a while and she appreciated the reminder of the rules for her safety and theirs- no photos, no electronic devices to leave the jet, no electronic records, paper and pen only.

Usually her sessions were conducted by remote with only the occasional in person visit, usually to her home office, but every now and again circumstances called her here.

This patient certainly needed his session conducted on the island.

Scott met her at the civilian hangar entrance and they went through the usual blindfold routine they used whenever she had to go through the more sensitive areas of the base. As always, she was tempted to peek but never did. Trust was at the core of what she did, and she'd earned theirs. But curiosity always made her wonder- though her sight was blocked she still detected the echoes of voices, hum of machinery, the smell of damp rock, hot metal, fuel and exhaust fumes mingling with the faint scent of the sea that managed to permeate almost everywhere. Finally, Scott stopped and the hand on her elbow fell away.

"We're here, you can take the blindfold off." He told her. "I know this isn't your normal setting, but he's comfortable here."

"Thank you Scott." Doctor June smiled and nodded to Scott as she looked around the workshop he'd brought her to. About the size of a large bedroom, it was dominated by the heavily scarred steel workbench in the centre of the room. Cupboards and shelves lined one wall, the second was more workbenches with grinding wheels and lathes and what not, a floor to ceiling tool rack occupied the third and supplies were neatly stacked everywhere.

"Take a seat, I'll go let him know that you're here." Scott invited, gesturing to one of the barstool-like chairs around the workbench and ducked out to go fetch her patient.

She picked the most comfortable looking of the stools, laid her notes on the workbench and waited as the Mechanic came in, a large device of some sort tucked under his arm. Hayley studied him as he placed it on the workbench opposite her, positioned it just so and selected a handful of tools from the tool rack. The lack of the goggles, respirator and armour that the news broadcasts had shown him in went a long way to humanise him. "Scott said you allow them to have a project or similar to work on while in a session." He said by way of explanation as he came back and laid out his selection of equipment, his voice not quite as low and gravelly as she'd expected.

"It was let him work on his plane while we talked or try and have a session while running with him." She joked. "I'm not nearly fit enough for that."

"Mm." The Mechanic made a noncommittal noise as he picked up a tool and started taking the grey metal casing off the whatever it was.

"What do you want to talk about today?" Hayley asked, sensing the direct approach might work best here.

"Failure." He replied shortly. "That was how The Hood got his hooks in me." The Mechanic answered shortly, his eyes fixed on his work. "My greatest achievement, the T-Drive, and not only did he steal it from me, but in his ignorance he overloaded it. If Jeff Tracy hadn't risked his life and boarded the Zero-X, The Hood would have destroyed the world with his greed. He escaped, waited for me to hit rock bottom and then came curling into my ruined world like the snake he is, poisoning me with his words and breaking me down until he had the means to control me."

"Have you ever looked up the definition of a narcissistic personality?" Hayley could see several angles to take from The Mechanic's short, telling, and surprisingly poetic speech and picked the question she hoped would eventually lead him to releasing the guilt and self recrimination she could hear dripping from every line.

"I've read about it, yes." He replied absently, taking a pair of wire strippers to his project and peeling the insulation from a thick black cable.

"The Hood is a textbook case of narcissism, the embodiment of 'It is better to be feared than loved'." Hayley pointed out. "Picks out people who can be manipulated, like the Chaos Crew, or creates a situation that lets him isolate and break down someone's personality to mould them into someone he can control. They're cunning, showing you what you want to see or making you see only what they want you to see and use fear, pain or the fear of pain to make you obey."

Something snapped in the Mechanic's hands. He looked at the piece of broken plastic casing in surprise, set it down carefully and glanced up at her. "Sorry."

"That's okay. Do you want to take a break?" Hayley offered.

"No…not yet." He picked up another tool and went back to work. "You are correct. He had me leashed like a dog." A bitter expression twisted the Mechanic's features. "Would you believe I asked him for the ocular implant that he later used against me?" He asked, glancing up at her.

"Oh yes." She nodded. "I haven't seen cybernetic implants before, but I've seen people with all manner of body modifications or behaviours they took on to please or placate an abusive partner or family member."

He blinked at that.

"It's more common than most people think. Shame makes people hide it, often because either their abuser is a pillar of the community and no one will believe them or because they can't believe that they'd let themselves be manipulated and controlled like that." She went on. "Unfortunately that shame creates the shadows abusive people need to hide in. I liken them to vampires- proper ones, not what Hollywood and romance novels turned them into. A glamour to hide their true natures as they hunt out their next victim, manipulation and control to make their victim pick them, and when they drop that glamour their victim feels too deep in to escape."

"You got hunted out and trapped." Hayley felt the moment was right to confront things head on. "Why hold the guilt for what someone else forced onto you?"

Silence answered her, the Mechanic standing with both hands planted on the workbench and looking down, brow knit and the corner of his mouth twitching.

Hayley considered the situation and decided to steer the conversation in a slightly different direction before he could shut down completely as a self protective mechanism. "Have you ever tried journaling?" She asked. "Some people find it's a way to get thoughts out of their head and set them aside as it were. One of my professors would sometimes have a client write two journals- one for whenever thoughts of their past reared up, one for thoughts about their today. When the first journal was full, she'd get them to burn it."

That got an interested glance up at her.

She reached into her bag and drew out three small notebooks, A5 sized- one with a white cover, one brown and one black, each with an elastic band to keep them closed. She laid them on the workbench together with a half dozen pens in different colours and styles and slid them to within his arm's reach.

"If you like, you can give it a try. I know pen and paper is rather old fashioned, but there's a lot to be said for the physical act of writing, rather than typing or dictating. It's more cathartic sometimes." She began. "One of those can be your purge book- every lie, every act, everything he said to you, everything he made you do- goes into that book. When it's full, destroy it. Maybe get creative- leave it under one of the Thunderbirds when they launch or use a blow torch on it or something, or stick in the shredder or whatever you have here to process waste. Maybe you want to rip the pages out and use them to start a bonfire on the beach. Basically, do whatever makes you feel better. One's your future book- for your bucket list, places you want to go someday, things you want to do or make or experience, all your hopes and dreams."

"And the third?" He asked, half reaching towards the books.

"Your today." Hayley explained as he scooped the pile towards himself. "What happened today, your reflections, thoughts and feelings, or something as simple as 'We had this for dinner, it was good' or 'I watched this show or read this book and liked it'."

The Mechanic nodded absently as he opened one of the books and flicked through it, then took out one of the pens, clicked it a couple of times and drew a line on one of the pages to test it out. "...would you want to read these journals?" He paused and looked up at her, guarded caution in his eyes.

"No, not unless there's something you want to show me." Doctor June shook her head. "These are private and for you, and you alone."

"Hm." He relaxed a fraction and went back to testing each of the pens to see which one he liked the feel of the best. His selection made, the Mechanic slid the remaining four pens back to her. "May I go?" He asked, glancing now towards the door.

Hayley nodded, seeing the signs of someone who has both had enough for now and eager to make a start on the project she'd assigned. "Of course. Did you want to meet in person again or would a remote session make you more comfortable?"

"In person." He answered promptly. "Please." He tacked it on as an afterthought as he made for the door. "I'll inform Scott we are finished for now. Thank you."

0o0o0

A month later and with Alan's gleeful connivance, the Mechanic stuffed the now full 'purge' journal under one of Thunderbird Three's thrusters then went outside to stand on the deck and watch as the great rocket soared into the sky on a pillar of smoke and fire, feeling his heart lift along with the Thunderbird as the book of memories that had dragged him down and embittered him was turned into nothing more than a soot stain on the floor of Three's silo.

It was rather fitting, not to mention satisfying, as far as he was concerned.