If they had still been sparring, she could not have asked for a better opening.
"I'm not sure why." He admitted finally.
"And your name?" She asked moving to face him.
His expression was troubled and he avoided her gaze, instead reaching for a towel. She reached out and rested a hand on his wrist. He was very still for a moment then finally met her gaze.
"You can talk to me." She said gently. "I once asked if you wanted a different name." She reminded him.
He sighed and walked to one of the benches in the room. She followed him. They sat next to each other, and she waited. Exhaustion from the day and the intensity of the bout settled over her, she leaned her head back against the wall and waited.
"You have never lost yourself or divided yourself."
"No." she said although it had not been a question.
"I have, more than once, and recently." He said softly.
"And now?" She asked gently.
He shook his head and smiled. "Now, well, it's sort of the opposite problem. Everything that was settled and set, locked up or tidied away is…out."
"Death?" She asked her breath catching.
He shook his head, "No, he, we, settled things awhile ago. There is no death, only me."
"And…Jarod?" She asked finally.
He didn't reply. She took his left hand in both of hers and leaned against him. "You're my family. I can never kill you. If you challenged me right here, I would give you a blade and kneel." He stiffened and tried to pull his hand away but she kept speaking, "I can't imagine that ever changing. You saved my life, more than once. All that I am and all that I have done and will do is because you and Duncan gave a shit Methos." She sat up and angled to face him directly.
"Maybe you're more Jarod now than Methos, maybe you're a mélange of everyone else in there. You came back, somehow, and that's a gift."
"I…it's me, at least, most of the time it is. And I think that's getting better. But the blade…I can't see having to use it here and touching it is…unpleasant so…I don't."
She nodded and let out a relieved sigh. "Will you talk to someone? An expert?"
"Would it be required?"
"Think about it, when have any of us ever been able to actually get any real mental health support? The shit we go through and survive and fucking…endure, for once we can talk to someone and know they aren't nodding along until they can get a commitment order in place."
"What would Emily tell you if she were here?" She asked softly. He flinched at that and pulled his hand free from hers.
"Do you two always knock the shit out of each other like that?" John asked. He was watching the security recording of the sparring session.
"Best way to train."
"Okay but you're literally spitting up blood and that had to be a cracked skull." He said gesturing at the paused screen which was frozen on the point where Max had managed to nail Methos in the head.
"Immortals sir, we heal, there's no point training without realism for us."
"I get that, like in my head, but holy crap that is hard to watch." He muttered and fast forwarded through the rest of the combat. He hit play when they started to talk. He watched through until they left the room.
"Incidentally sir, are all common areas recorded?"
"No, and most don't have audio either." He said absently. He was chewing over the conversation they'd shared. "So, he's willing?"
She gestured at the tablet and nodded. "And you're willing?" He asked her.
"Yes. It's only fair and I think it may help put the IOA at ease about us."
John sucked his teeth and eyed her for a long moment. She stopped pacing the length of his bed and waited. "You should understand what psych support here means. It's a little different from the civilian world."
"Confidentiality?" She asked stiffly.
"Is maintained but the guidelines under which it can be breached are…broader."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Technically the broader situations really only apply if your shrink is military themselves but given our situation even civilian mental health providers serving the expedition can be required to break confidentiality."
"Let me guess, if we're at risk of endangering the expedition? That sort of thing?"
He nodded, "Don't get me wrong, if I could get away with it there would be a general standing order for all personnel to report to a mental health provider weekly, even if it's just get tips for a better golf game. But the problem is bandwidth, the IOA and SGC combined just don't have enough skilled providers that can pass the background checks and get clearance."
"Did you research this before we met today?"
"Nah, it's been like an ongoing thing. The point is, I am all in favor of you both getting some professional support, but you also need to know the risks."
"I think he'll still be okay with it, he's too smart not to realize disclosure is a risk. Can I ask sir, do you see someone?"
"Yep, not weekly though but regularly."
She looked thoughtful. "I think…that will help too."
"Well, that's good weird, I like good weird, what about Max?"
"She's seeing someone too, well, she's asked to. Just some logistics to sort out."
"Wait, are they going to see the same shrink?"
"Ah well, it didn't seem fair?" Carter said. Jack considered that. While he was thinking a hand appeared on his screen with a paper for him to sign. He paused and read through it and signed then returned his focus to Carter.
"Don't wanna freak out one of the few professionals foolish enough to say yes to our crappy hiring package eh?"
"Something like that sir." Carter agreed with a smile.