All recognizable Covenant characters, places, and events belong to Sony Pictures and its affiliates. I am making no money from this endeavor. As for any original content: Any likeness, similarities, and resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, and events are unintentional and purely coincidental.
A grateful thank you to Misty Glow for permission to use some of the plot devices in the initial chapter(s). Her fic, "Age of Temptation" is a great inspiration.
Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.
Hannah Takalua sat quietly in her therapist's office and was lost in thought. She sat on the same lime green couch she has sat in twice a week for the last three years. A woman in her mid forties sat across from her, wearing a crisp burnt sienna suit; Hannah knew it was fall by the color scheme Dr. Pingleton wore. Flaming oranges, dark browns, and golden yellows in autumn; navy blues and whites in the winter; pastels in the spring; and reds, pink, and greens for the summer.
The doctor was dependable and predictable. It was one of the things Hannah liked about her; what made the teen trust the therapist.
Normally Hannah would be talking the doctor's ear off. Talking about the latest experiment she was working on, the next prank she was planning or her fears about her future. There were a limitless amount of things Hannah could talk to the doctor about, limitless things she wanted to talk about. It was easy when she had someone who cared about what was going on in her life and didn't judge; someone who was an outside party and didn't have a personal interest and therefore biased view on things.
So when Hannah sat in the ugly green chair for ten minutes without saying anything, only looking blankly at the carpet and was completely still; Dr. Pingleton knew something was weighing heavily on her patient's mind.
"Hannah? What are you thinking about? You're unusually quiet today," the doctor prodded, gently urging the teen to open up.
"What I've been thinking about for the past three weeks. Can't stop thinking about it," Hannah said, breaking her silence and looking troubled.
"Yes, the inheritance. Any progress on that?"
"Not really, I'm still deciding on whether or not to take it."
"It's been three weeks, what is holding you back from deciding?"
"Well let's see. A professional courier gives me an official letter alerting me that I'm the long lost descendant of a woman of no historical importance other than she was a victim of the seventeenth century witch hunts. Somehow she misplaced her child or something and that was how my matrilineal family came to Maryland; then for some reason the Danvers family, owners of the biggest oil conglomerate in the United States, happened to be fucking around their and the local people's genealogy and then connected the Hamilton line to me. So now I'm to inherit the old family homestead and the wealth that's been sitting in an endowment, gaining interest."
"It is a highly unusual situation but it's not totally out of the realm of possibility."
"Perhaps not but what's strange are the stipulations attached to the inheritance. I mean, what kind residency requirement has a school preference?"
"You never told me the specifics."
"One of the conditions was to attend Spencer Academy. It's a college preparatory school in Ipswich, Massachusetts. Seems so random but there's this new law the city has about residency requirements for inheriting historical landmarks, which the Hamilton estate falls under. Literally their local counsel voted on it the Friday before I got the letter."
"Seems like you researched this thoroughly."
"Wouldn't you? It just seems..." Hannah trailed off, unsure if she should say exactly what she was thinking.
"What?" Dr. Pingleton urged.
"Too good to be true. I mean we were struggling and all of a sudden, out of nowhere it seems a significant amount of money falls from the sky. It feels...contrived almost."
"Contrived? Why would someone just give you money if you didn't deserve it?"
"Maybe I am a genetic match to a long lost family member and they're using this money to lure me away from my home to knock me out and then harvest my organs."
"That's a bit paranoid, don't you think? That's not usually like you"
"Yeah I watched Hostel last night. That wasn't a smart idea."
"Well it seems like you've made up your mind. The source of the wealth is very questionable."
"See, that it. It's not. I have a friend who's…let's say handy with computers and she checked things out for me; the money is legit. The attorney office that's handling the money is legit. The endowment is legit; it's been under the care of the Danvers family for the past three hundred years. As far as I can tell, they're not related to me and therefore wouldn't need my particular organs. And I asked for copies of the family tree and other documentation they used to find me; it all checks out, although exactlyhow they confirmed I'm the heiress is a bit questionable because you would think they wouldn't just go by paper; that they'd want a DNA test or something. When I asked they said the Hamiltons were very religious and wouldn't want the remains exhumed. So I guess they're OK with giving away money on word alone; which enhances the shadiness of the whole thing. Also, I got a good look at my mother's family history, my prognosis is looking really good by the by," Hannah ended sarcastically.
"What have we talked about when it comes to your diagnosis?"
She hated when her doctor make her repeat platitudes, they always felt hokey and artificial.
"D.N.A. is not destiny," she said reluctantly. The doctor was satisfied with her answer and wasn't sure if the session was going as productive as she wanted it to.
Hannah leaned over and put her head in her hands, stressed from the big responsibility that lay on her shoulders.
"It's not just the weird circumstances; do I really want to move my whole life to Massachusetts for money? I mean, my whole family is here. My school and all of my friends are here. I've only ever been here. How can I just leave?"
"I thought you wanted to go to MIT?"
"I did...I still do but I thought I'd have more time to get used to the idea of moving...and it was still up in the air whether or not I'd be able to afford it, so it was always a possibility that I'd end up going to UMD or something. This money could open a lot of opportunities for me."
"Hence the tough decision."
"Yes, it's not as clear cut as I'd like it to be."
"Usually you make a pro/cons list to decide on tough choices..."
As Dr. Pingleton was talking, Hannah had pulled out a legal pad that was filled with her neat handwriting. Each point was had a lengthy explanation attached to it and the doctor know the entire list probably went on for several pages. When Hannah was indecisive, she had gone through several writing pads and even a PowerPoint graph presentation to get a visual on the direction she should go.
Hannah opened her mouth to explain all of her notes but she was momentarily distracted by the therapy dolls behind the doctor.
There were several dolls of varying ethnicity but no distinguishing facial markers. The therapist used them to get younger kids to talk about possible situations involving adults that they couldn't verbalize. The dolls came to life and started to dance what Hannah could only guess was Swan Lake. This was not something that was out of the ordinary for the teen despite logically knowing dolls did not suddenly come alive.
Hannah stared at the Caucasian doll doing a pirouette and the doctor noticed her patient wasn't focused on the session any longer. Dr. Pingleton looked behind her to see what could have distracted Hannah and didn't notice anything riveting and assumed the teen was having a break in reality.
"Hannah, focus on the present," the psychiatrist instructed.
Hannah tore her eyes from the dolls, closed her eyes, breathed deeply and repeated the words that she had uttered a thousand times before.
"You're not real."
The statement worked like magic because when she opened her eyes, the dolls were back where they were before; lifeless and innocuous on a shelf.
"Want to talk about what just happened?" Dr. Pingleton asked.
"Hallucination, nothing new," she looked down, not wanting to talk about it. The doctor, however, was not about to let Hannah avoid the subject.
"That's another concern isn't it? Do you worry that your schizophrenia will be exacerbated with a new school and all the changes?"
"How can it not? I mean, it'd be hard enough being the 'new girl' at a school whose students are four tax brackets above me; I don't even want to think of the 'Pretty in Pink' issues I might have, but to add in crazy? That might be too much."
"Hannah," the doctor said sternly. "We do not use the 'C' word in this office."
"Sorry, I meant being mentally hilarious."
"'Sarcasm is the last refuse of the imaginatively bankrupt.' What are your other concerns?"
"I feel like no matter what I choose, it's not going to be the right one. It's like the Doctor has landed the TARDIS on my lawn. Do I stay home and be safe or do I go out on adventures as a Companion knowing I'm putting my life in danger and possibly be stranded in an alternate universe?"
Dr. Pingleton knew Hannah was referencing some British TV she wasn't familiar with other than the odd session the teen would go on for the entire hour about the adventures of Dr. Who.
"What are the good aspects of taking the money? I don't think you've said any of those," the doctor steered the topic back to the task at hand; otherwise the girl would go on philosophizing about fictional characters.
"Well it'd solve the family's money problems; that's for sure. I love my dad and all but he's breaking his back doing menial jobs trying to support four kids and my Aunt. I appreciate all that he does but he's never around. There are just not enough construction or carpentry jobs in this shitty housing market and economy to make ends meet. Especially because of my medical bills…" she trailed off, feelings of guilt bubbled inside her.
She always felt an irrational sense of remorse for her condition; she knew how far into debt her father was because of her illness and it killed her knowing how much of a drain she caused. Even though she knew it was her father's duty to provide for her until she turned eighteen, there was no getting around the fact that if she wasn't around her dad would have an easier time with finances.
"Spencer is also a top rated school," Hannah pressed on as she did not want to get into another discussion with the doctor about how her condition wasn't her fault; it was talked about to death and she didn't want to explain that no matter how much she was told she wasn't to blame and logically she knew it wasn't her fault, she still felt bad.
"It's not as specialized as Peabody but it does have a strong science department and from what I've gathered, the school feeds directly to the local universities. Their alumni list is basically all Ivy League. What it lacks in scientific discipline it makes up in connections. I could go a lot further there than I ever would here. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity."
"What does your dad think about all of this?" Dr. Pingleton asked because she knew how much Mr. Takalua's opinion mattered to her patient.
"He's…uneasy about the school requirement. He really doesn't like that Spencer is co-ed."
"Yes, you've told me he's rather conservative isn't he?"
"Staunch Republican wouldn't be able to begin to cover it. He doesn't think it's proper for boys and girls to be living in a dorm like that, especially underage teenagers. He inquired about possibly sending me to the local all-girls boarding school the next town over instead but when we talked with the lawyers at Simms, Parry, and Stoltz; they were adamant that the Hamilton trust stipulated that it could only be Spencer. Something about the strong ties the Hamiltons had with the founding family of the school; which is suspect because the last known Hamilton before myself died in the seventeenth century and the school wasn't built until a hundred and twenty years later. It's not like the Hamiltons knew the Spencers would open a school and would prefer their offspring to attend it….I mean unless they were psychic or something but that's a ridiculous notion. I suspect the Danvers', who are on the board of trustees for Spencer, checked my records and don't want such a prize student going to a rival school."
Hannah didn't say that to be arrogant or haughty, she said it because she knew it to be true. She had an impeccable record and she had several science awards under her belt. It wouldn't matter where she went before Spencer as long as they could boast that she graduated from there. Hannah had experience of high school admissions politics as she had been roped into many fundraisers and hand shaking in order to maintain her scholarship and get permission for her experiments. She also knew that a recommendation letter from Spencer would go further for MIT than Peabody; as most schools would rather accept in-state rather than out-of-state students. It wasn't an official rule but she had seen the acceptance statistics across the board and it would behoove her to go to Spencer if she wanted to go to the school of her choice.
"Then there're my younger brothers. They never get to see my dad because he works all the time and Jonah is having behavioral problems. Maybe if he went to a private school and got more attention he'd do better. The others are O.K. for now but I worry their potential is being stifled in the public school system. Where they are now is extremely over crowded and their curriculum is a joke. They're smart kids but the teachers are so overwhelmed that my brothers are being ignored. I want better for them. So should I reject the money, when it could help so much, because I'm scared to go someplace new or that my condition will get worse?"
"Well have you reconsidered going on different medication? I know previous attempts haven't been successful…"
"No," Hannah said without any uncertainty. "I'm not going through that again. I'd rather deal with the hallucinations than go through the side effects again. I fell behind almost an entire year because the meds that were supposed to help me made me so ill and dead inside. I'd rather be a 'high functioning schizophrenic' than a subpar regular person."
Normally Dr. Pingleton would have made an argument but it stalled in her brain. As soon as Hannah said "No", something stopped her from speaking and compulsively went along with the teen. Any other patient, she would have carefully argued various treatment options; never pushing them farther than they wanted to go in terms of their own treatment but making sure they were making well informed decisions. In Hannah's case, she outright refused any long term medication and only made the exception in the instance of an acute panic attack. The doctor understood her patient's reluctance. The teen had tried several psychopharmacological options and none of them had the results they wanted. With her initial medications, Hannah reported feeling nauseated all the time and the hallucinations still occurred. With other medications, she didn't report as many hallucinations but it could have been because her brain was too fogged or she was asleep. With therapy, Hannah has been able to stay in control of herself during her breaks with reality and confront her hallucinations. After three years of regular sessions, Hannah learned enough techniques to become a high functioning schizophrenic; she saw things that weren't there but she was aware of them and learned not to be afraid; and that allowed her to live a normal life and go to school.
The doctor did worry about her patient's future prognosis. Despite what she said earlier, the girl had a long family history of mental illness that progressively got worse as they got older. The doctor worried that while Hannah could manage presently, the teen's future wasn't as certain. She was concerned that one day Hannah would have a full psychotic episode where her confrontational techniques wouldn't work. Dr. Pingleton wanted to get Hannah on long term medication to regulate her dopamine and serotonin levels to prevent future spikes that would lead to complete psychosis.
Hannah had an eerie knack for getting her way so the Dr. dropped her internal fight to argue for medication.
"Fine, no medications but are you any closer to making a decision? I do think this could be a wonderful opportunity for you. I know how your family has been struggling and how much this money would help. I think it would relieve some of the stress you're under. It's noble of you to take on some of the responsibility of helping raise your brothers but it's really not supposed to be your job. It just adds to the stress you're already under with such a rigorous course load. I think going to Spencer will give you a chance at being a teenager. You're stronger and more capable of handling any schoolwork and problems than you think you are. I don't want you to not choose the money because you're scared. I want you to face obstacles and overcome them. You're going to have to face them eventually, it's earlier than you expected but I have faith you can succeed."
"I feel almost as if you're trying to get rid of me."
"You know that's not true. I want what's best for you and for you to reach your full potential."
"Yeah…that's why I took the money last week."
"If you already took the money, why have we been hashing it over for the past forty five minutes?" asked incredulously.
"I wanted to talk it out and make sure it sounded right before I told you."
Dr. Pingleton pushed down an exasperated sigh because she knew how Hannah was. The girl tended to let people know of big decisions and news after the fact so people wouldn't have the time to argue or couldn't stop her.
"How did your father take it?"
"He doesn't know yet. Another reason why I was hesitant about the money was because he would be too proud to take any of it from me. He'd rather work three jobs than accept any outside help. So I signed everything and made a security deposit on a new bigger rental. I figured my dad can pick whatever house he wants once he gets around my high handed gesture."
Dr. Pingleton frowned at Hannah's choice to make such big decisions about her family without consulting her father and her complete disregard for others' choices.
"Hannah, what have we talked about going above people's heads and making decisions for them? I know you're a genius and think you know what's more logical but some things aren't for you to decide."
"What else was I supposed to do? We were about to be evicted…"
Dr. Pingleton was surprised at the revelation.
"He doesn't know I know but I saw the notice when I was cleaning out his office for him."
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I didn't want you to talk me out of accepting the money or waiting until I was absolutely sure. We didn't have the time to wait so I signed all the paperwork, faxed it, and it was deposited the next day; I'll hand it to that law firm, they get shit done. It's almost as if they threw the money at me."
"How did you even get the documents signed without your father? You're only sixteen…"
"I'll be seventeen in a couple months."
"The point is that you're underage. Even if the trust is for you, you can't claim it without an adult guardian."
"Yeah…I forged his name and paid one of my deeper voiced classmates to pretend to be him. It's amazing how easy it is to commit identity fraud."
"You know you've committed a felony, right?"
"Several in fact...and across state lines."
"Hannah, this is serious. You could get in a lot of trouble."
"I could but I won't. My dad is not going to turn me in and you're bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. While I'm breaking the law I'm not endangering myself or others so you have no sufficient reason to call the police. Also, I have enough money now to hire myself the best lawyers; I'm sure if I were to run into any trouble the most I would get is community service, probation, and a stern warning as a first time underage offender. The Federal government is too bogged down with real crimes to bother with an inheritance fraud case."
Dr. Pingleton restrained herself from rebuking at the teen but she knew that while Hannah was a very smart girl, a genius in fact, she was still a teenager. And teenagers had the annoying habit of "magical thinking" where they had an irrational sense of invulnerability. It was exacerbated in Hannah's case because she was smart enough to get away with what would land most people in jail. Another thing that worried Dr. Pingleton was that one day, Hannah was going to do something that would land her in prison and the girl wouldn't be able to talk her way out of it.
"You could have told me and then I'd have more time to find another therapist for you in Massachusetts," Dr. Pingleton stated, moving on from Hannah's criminal activity. The girl was right, her hands were tied and it would have been more of a fuss she was willing to go through in order to turn her in and prove a point.
"You really think I'm going to start all over with all the progress we've made and the trust we've built?" Hannah said arrogantly while she pulled out a small laptop from her bag and handed it to Dr. Pingleton.
"This is for you. It has a webcam and I want to keep my regular schedule. The guidance counselor at Spencer has agreed to let me use her room for our sessions."
Dr. Pingleton knew she ought to argue and reprimand the girl but she knew that Hannah needed to go to Spencer and she wasn't going to sabotage it.
"So when do you start Spencer?"
Hannah was surprised the doctor didn't dispute her plans but accepted that she must have made a logical and well thought out argument with no room for disagreement.
"I was thinking of starting early December. I want to get mid-terms over with as well as Thanksgiving. Thankfully Spencer has equivalent classes, so all my credits will transfer over and it shouldn't be that hard to reconcile the curriculum. I'm pretty sure my dad will also get over it all by then and help me move in. I might just wait until January and start next quarter; get finals out of the way as well. I don't know if it'd be worth it to start in December only to go three weeks and then have Christmas break. I think I'll tell my dad and go from there."
The timer on Dr. Pingleton's desk chimed and their session was over. Hannah gathered her things and said goodbye; leaving quickly to catch the Metro redline.
The doctor waited a few minutes after the teen left to make sure she didn't come back. She then went to the phone and called someone who would be very interested in some good news.
"Hello?" a perky voice answered.
"Mrs. Garwin? It's Dr. Pingleton. She's accepted the money…I assume you already knew that."
"Yes, we got all the paperwork out as soon as we could. When is she coming to Massechusetts?" The cheerful blonde asked, very excited her son would be safe soon.
"She's indecisive about when to come to the school; the endowment didn't stipulate she had to attend as soon as possible so she's weighing her options. If I were you, I would make it so it'd be worth her while to come after Thanksgiving break."
"OK, that's great. Thanks hun for the update, we'll come up with something."
Mrs. Garwin jovially said goodbye, the therapist hung up and contemplated what had just transpired.
Dr. Pingleton, ńee Garwin, felt slightly guilty at her role in Hannah's life. It was a coincidence that she happened to be treating one of the last, if not last, remaining witch on the continent. She felt remorse for betraying Hannah's trust but it was for the good of the family. The family that paid for her education and maintained her luxurious lifestyles that even a world renowned psychiatrist wouldn't be able to afford.
She was assured that she was only helping Hannah make the decision to go to Massachusetts on the witch's own volition by highlighting the good parts of the deal; in the end Hannah made the choice without her. She was also ensured that the boys wouldn't use unnatural or coercive means to get Hannah to comply. They really were handsome boys, so Dr. Pingleton was convinced the witch would choose at least one of them on her own.
As much as she tried to assure herself that she was doing the right thing, guilt nagged at her; telling her that she was just rationalizing selfish and bad behavior. She would never let a patient of hers get away with such betrayal but part of her felt she didn't have much choice. She couldn't go against her family and from what her Aunt was telling her, Hannah's issues stemmed from not being around her own kind. Mrs. Garwin didn't go into detail but all Dr. Pingleton knew was that she was given orders to encourage Hannah to take the money and she did just that. She only hoped Hannah would benefit from the situation.
"Good luck Hannah," she muttered softly to herself.
A/N: Thanks to Morgan and to all those who have reviewed. I'm so glad you guys like the fic and I hope you continue to do so.