*PenofOneAnswer819 does not claim rights to any Sega Enterprises or Sonic Team patented characters or material presented within this work of fan-based fiction: All copyright reserved for the rightful and respective owners.*
PoA: Wouldn't this be considered an unselfish act?
PetolvAr: There is no such thing as an unselfish act. Even disdain for self and concern outside of self are selfish thoughts because they serve the will of self. No one can be "selfless".
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Nine Tales of Lu
Session 2: Lost Memories
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"Dr. Stone,
I received the memo last Thursday, same time as everyone else. I called clerical and told them I would be absent for my appointment with Mr. and Mrs. Totter three weeks in advance. I understand we are shorthanded, but I took the Kinglas case before had even spoken with the Totters.
As it stands, the Kinglas case is my first priority.
Sincerely, Dr. Prower"
"Dear Dr. Prower,
Assuming I completely ignore the legally unorthodox, I should say "environments", in which you choose to hold your sessions, I suggest you keep your word to your clients. When you tell the president you will meet him at such and such a time, do you make other arrangements at the last minute? All other appointments are booked. We also have some interns coming in that require shadowing. We don't have time to cover your appointment.
Keep up this behavior, and you won't have any clients at all before long.
Sincerely, Dr. Stone"
"Dr. Stone,
I'm not doing this with you right now, Setton. You send out those memos about case negligence, even when you have a surplus of able bodied staff on hand. My appointment with the Totters is not an official case; it's merely an introduction and some paperwork. I was given their appointment because you didn't want to assign anyone from day shift to cover it.
In other words, they aren't my clients, whereas Ms. Kinglas is. Even if you should find my methods questionable, they are undoubtedly more effective than the "sit on the couch" motif of intrapersonal paranoia you and your trainees employ. You fear your clients, and so you charge them as insane or unreasonable to handle in a comfortable environment.
Sincerely, Dr Prower"
"Dr. Prower,
A business email is no place for petty arguments, Dr. Prower. Is this what you call professionalism? I manage my people the way I do for a good reason. If we should find ourselves overwhelmed, I need to ensure that we have enough extra hands to cover any time gaps. This is how I've always managed my timetables, and as long as I have say, I like to keep it that way.
We remove many patients from their current situation because they can become a danger to themselves and others. I admit, you have been vigilant, and have never put others in harm's way before, but doing so yourself is just as much a violation of our standards as it would be for anyone else. As long as you keep your death wishes from harming the reputation of our own, then you are free to do as you please.
And another thing, doctor, just being former classmates does not put us on a first name basis. You will refer to me as Dr. Stone from now on.
Sincerely, Dr. Stone."
"Dr. Stone,
I believe that may be outside the scope of your authority, Setton. Regardless, your unwillingness to cooperate under these reasonable circumstances will reflect poorly on you when I approach the board. We need flexibility if we are to handle all of our cases appropriately. Your stubbornness is going to cost us more time and clients than anything else.
Putting yourself in another person's shoes isn't a death wish. While some clients can be a real threat, some of us are only our own worst enemies.
Sincerely, Dr. Prower
P.S. You never change for anyone or anything, do you?"
He felt the pencil that he wasn't aware he had been juggling, snap between his fingers. He never once had asked for time off, or for even one unreasonable schedule change before. It disgusted him that someone so stuck in their own little world, like Setton the pigheaded wolf, would have any say over scheduling in the first place.
"I'd like to huff and puff his pretty HOA lot down, and his mangy little cat too." He seethed, trying to avoid recalling the time he had dinner with his snooty former classmate's friends; a group, in Miles' somewhat clouded opinion, as utterly stuck up as Setton was. Rude insults about Sonic's haircut and attire, and a scratch from their ill-behaved stray on Amy's hand were just some of the many "highlights" of that awful day. It had been his chance to be a part of something he wanted no part of.
In reality, he was just too frustrated to think clearly. Somehow, merely thinking about meeting with Ms. Kinglas again was putting him on edge. It wasn't the most horrifying case he had ever had, not by a long shot, nor was all that awkward. Over his short time in the field, he had been threatened, hit on, attacked, stalked and so much more. It failed to make sense why this relatively normal client would bother him so.
"Time to go." He more or less ordered himself, trying his best to stop shaking in anticipation. His self-management almost worked. That is, up to the point where he dropped his keys, and then his phone; he broke it's fragile screen as soon as it came underfoot.
"Aw, JE-ehh... Son of a big bald Bengal tiger's baggy britches!" He said, struggling not to say more, or worse. He picked up the flickering necessity with a sigh "What the heck's the matter with me?"
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*Four weeks ago*
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Ms. Kinglas had agreed to finish their discussion in a more open, but less formal place of meeting: A park, and not even Station Square's famous Jackalson Mills Circle. Instead, she chose the rather quaint Zephyr's Gallery Park; a quiet place despite being a fairly popular hangout for teens.
He found her not too far from the street bordering the local library, sitting rigidly and in a fairly upright position. Eyes barely darting over to meet his, her evasiveness made her seem all the more uncomfortable. Rude as her behavior was, knowing he wasn't the only one put off by their meeting allowed Miles to relax a bit. It gave him the courage to offer an awkward wave, and for her to reply with slight smile and nod.
"Finally, a reaction." He thought, trying to hide a silly proud smirk.
Formally enough, before he sat down, he verbally welcomed and shook her hand. Tension seemed to ease as she replied "Good to see you again, Dr. Prower." This was enough to take the invitation and sit, keeping an extra person's length between them.
Not one to forget the details, Miles recalled their last conversation with fair clarity. He knew that they had to get down to business, but nevertheless wanted to ensure Lucy had readied herself. Admittedly, these sessions somewhat informal, and were not based upon scripted progress or therapy. He knew stricter diagnosis would come in the aftermath; her history came first, and he was ready to listen if she was ready to speak.
With a bit of gentle prodding and a fairly out-in-the-open reminder, he eventually had her back on track "We can start whenever you're ready."
"Mm, like I told you before, Dr. Prower, my parents were highly superstitious. Not even religious, per se, but very fond of their traditions." Recalling something, evidently a positive memory, Lucy went on "The strange thing is, my grandfather, Chun-Nun born on my mother's side and philosophically versed, said quite the opposite about my birth: He would tell me that I was a gift to my family. He said I was "filled with a treasure more valuable than earthly gains: A Child of Wisdom". He tried to diminish my family's paranoia, but the Garden's curse saw to him first."
Taking notes inside his relatively well prepared mind palace, Miles broke the short silence "Ms. Kinglas, I'm sorry for your loss."
If her shivering body language failed to tip him off, her normally cold eyes now glimmering in the soft sunlight certainly had "It was absurd." She hissed, despising her recollection with jagged sincerity "Grandfather Bai had been suffering from cardiomyopathy for several years. He was already on a downward spiral by the time I first recall meeting him. Nevertheless, paranoia and misfortune, for my family they seemed to come in pairs."
"Hmm, multiple unexpected deaths in the family." Miles commented under his breath, quiet enough that Lucy hadn't heard him, before addressing her again "Is there anything else, Ms. Kinglas?"
Whether by fast recovery, or by an erratic shift in behavior, Lucy answered calmly "No, but I will say that my grandfather was one of last people to both understand and respect me." Turning towards Miles with a sharp look, Lucy suddenly directed a question towards the patient doctor "I suppose you know the rest, don't you doctor?"
Confused, not only by her suddenly inquiry, but of her meaning as well, Miles replied with open palmed gesture "I'm afraid I don't, Ms. Kinglas. Would you like to explain?"
Closing her eyes with a longer sigh, Lucy shook her head once and said "I should be more clear: You know what it's like to abandoned by someone, I suppose?"
Now knowing exactly what she meant, but wanting to keep the conversation going in a productive direction, Miles answered with his own question "You were abandoned by your parents, Ms. Kinglas?"
"Weren't we all?" She retorted, almost too quickly, but passively "You can't expect me to believe you were simply adopted into the custody of a hyperactive blue hedgehog at the permission of your loving parents?"
Cold as frostbitten daggers in January. Miles would have certainly felt the bitter burn of her words, had he more of relationship with his parents to begin with "I can't say I was raised by anyone but Sonic, as you already seem to know." He realized lying or distracting her from his past would be pointless, but he only humored her digging so much "Ms. Kinglas, who were your caregivers growing up?"
Noticing he had both answered and dodged parts of her question, she dropped her point and went on "From what I can remember? Very few people. You may not realize it now, Dr. Prower, but you and I are very durable beings. Things that could, or should, kill your average mobian or human may or may not affect us at all. Though I find it hard to recall much of anything, since being near death leaves your mind in a hazy blur." Seemingly determined to have him involved in the conversation, Lucy once again looked his way and said "Surely, in the danger you've seen as a mere child, you can attest to this. Were there not times you seemed formidable against, or even incapable of dying?"
As much as tried not to be, he was intrigued by her question. Miles truly thought long and hard, before saying "I can say I count myself lucky. Sonic and I have seen dangers not many have, or should ever have to. One could even call my involvement a form of abuse on his part." Tails laughed, but caught himself, having seen his past in a different light. Sonic, even at Tails' urging, had actually allowed a child to risk his life. Simply knowing how capable and smart Tails was should not have been enough for Sonic; he should not have allowed a young fox to participate in his fight with an robot obsessed, imperialistic maniac.
At the same time, he recalled the times Sonic tucked him in at night, read him stories to chase away imaginary monsters. He also remembered how hard Sonic actually tried to keep Tails out of his fight against Eggman. No, it was not Sonic's fault. He hadn't been using Tails and his natural abilities. Certainly, Sonic was not the kind of person to do such a thing.
"Dr. Prower? Miles?" Lucy, in a memory lane diverting motion, had put a hand on the entranced doctor's shoulder.
Miles, embarrassed that he had trailed off, waved off her concerns. It oddly took him a full minute to realize she still had her hand his shoulder. Strange as it was, the motion did not bother him at all. So normal and comforting, so much so that only his lack of reaction scared him at all. It was like being comforted by an old friend.
Afraid, Miles nevertheless calmly brushed her hand aside, replying "I'm sorry, Ms. Kinglas." His apology was understandable, but unnecessary, so he urged her to continue "If possible, how much can you remember from the time you spent alone?"
Retracting her hand, Lucy paused a moment to recall, but seemed to struggle with the question. Not emotionally, but rather seemed to have a hard time remembering anything at all "I wish I could, but I can't. I don't..." She settled, her memory failing her completely.
Dazed, but not lost of his perceptiveness, Miles offered an easing smile and said "We can stop here, Lucy. Give yourself a chance to relax, and we will continue this discussion later."
He kept himself under control, but deep down he was afraid to resurface more damaging, even hidden, memories too swiftly. Although, selfishly, he gratefully breathed an internal sigh of rich relief when he saw her agree.
Truth be told, Miles realized that even he had things to recall and consider before their next session.
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End of Chapter 3
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Until next time.