A/N: Ohmigosh! A Sam/Jules scene! Please tell me that the world is not ending and I've just been granted a final wish… Well, folks, the future's not looking good for our favorite pairing. And how acerbic was that comment of Jules? Waaaay below the belt…
On an unrelated note, I apologize for neglecting this story for so long. I've been dealing with some very difficult and emotionally draining things this week, and if you check out my story "Teresa Contemplates" and substitute the name "Craig" for "Jane", you'll see what they were.
Oh, the freedom of anonymity…
Anyway, enough self-indulgence – let's join Jules in her first therapy session.
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"How old are you, Jules?"
The questions were innocuous enough, but she was nervous, Sam could tell. Her hand gripped his very tightly.
"And how long have you been working at the SRU?"
The shrink hadn't wanted Sam to be here, but she'd been overruled when Jules flatly refused to cooperate without him present. Just for the first session, at least. She was feeling much too vulnerable to be alone with the psychologist.
"And the death of Lewis Young was the first time that you've lost a team member."
Straight into it, then. No reason for beating around the bush, anyway. There's a problem, the doctor is here to fix it. Hopefully this will be quick and painless. Shame there isn't such a thing as emotional painkillers available over the counter. You would think, what with all the advances that science has made… Sam's trail of thoughts broke off when he realized that Jules was looking up at him inquiringly.
"Um, about a year?"
The length of our relationship? Yes, that's right.
"Yes, that's right." He cleared his throat after he said it. He hadn't been expecting to talk.
The doctor nodded. She had a pad of paper open on her lap, and Sam was immensely grateful that she was not jotting down every word that was said into it.
"Tell me about your problem, Jules."
She swallowed before answering in her best attempt at an offhand voice."Okay, this is going to sound really stupid, but I've been – having a really hard time dealing with Lew's death. It's – it's kind of ridiculous, I've been – really scared –" her voice wavered for a moment, but she caught it and continued, "-about a lot of different things, that maybe what happened to Lew is going to happen to me, or to – to Sam… I know it doesn't make sense, but I'm kind of – waiting – for it to happen… and it just scares me, and life is so unpredictable anyway, and… I know this is so unprofessional, but I haven't been dealing with this well, or at all, really, I've been… weak about it."
Dr. Ruth had been taking notes during this soliloquy, and she leaned forward now as she read them aloud to Jules.
"This is going to sound really stupid," she quoted, "It's kind of ridiculous. It doesn't make sense. This is so unprofessional. I've been weak."
She looked up at Jules, who looked back uncertainly.
"Do you hear all the self-judgment in your words?" Dr. Ruth asked. "You're vilifying yourself for experiencing a natural response to an extreme trauma."
Jules looked taken aback. Sam looked between the two women interestedly. Maybe the shrink did know a thing or two after all.
"It is stupid," Jules said defensively. The psychiatrist winced dramatically.
"As long as you're judging yourself for these feelings, Jules, you're going to be making life twice as difficult for you. You're trying to cope with the emotional reaction you're going through while feeling guilty and wrong for having these feelings at all."
Jules's shoulders hunched slightly. Sam slid a reassuring arm around her waist.
"So, the first thing we're going to deal with here is this self-judgment. We've got to move that out of the way in order to deal with the real problem. Do you understand why, Jules?"
"Yes."
"All right, we're going to start with a little exercise. Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Close your eyes."
Jules looked at Sam uncertainly. His arm tightened securely around her, and she reluctantly closed her eyes, settling against him.
"What is it that you think you shouldn't be feeling, Jules?"
The answer was immediate.
"I shouldn't be so scared of dying all the time."
"Is that true?"
"Yes." Firm.
"Is that absolutely, one hundred percent true?"
Silence.
"No?" Uncertain.
"That's right. Nothing is ever one hundred percent, Jules… now I want you to tell me, when you believe what you just told me – that you shouldn't be scared of dying – how does it make you feel?"
"Weak." Whispered. "Angry at myself." Her jaw set, and Sam knew that she was trying not to cry.
Dr. Ruth waited a moment for Jules to compose herself, then continued.
"Let's say you could get rid of that thought, Jules. Let's flush it away. How do you feel without it?"
"Better." Her eyes are still closed.
"Better how?"
"I'm not doing anything wrong."
The psychologist smiled. "That's great, Jules. That is completely true. The extreme to which you're frightened is something that we will deal with, but first and foremost you need to understand that you're not doing anything wrong."
Jules opened her eyes. She looked immensely more relaxed than she had when they had first closed.
"We're not done, though," the doctor continued. "Here's our last step. I want you to take that original statement you made, and turn it around 180 degrees."
"The opposite?" Jules sounded surprised.
"Yes."
"Okay, I… I should be afraid of dying, because – because I'm looking out for myself and for the people I love, and I'm – appreciating that life is short." She seemed slightly startled by her own words.
"Is that true?"
"Yeah... yeah, I suppose it is."
"How does that make you feel?"
"Relieved." She actually smiled as she said it.
"Good." The psychologist smiled too. "We're going to use that thought to replace the judgement you've been using until now."
Grudgingly acknowledging a growing respect for the woman sitting across from him, Sam watched the two women smile, and began to feel, for the first time in a while, that maybe everything really was going to be okay.
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A/N: Nope, no degree in psychotherapy – all credit goes to Byron Katie and "the work dot org".
