Summer entered Dr. Young's office for her latest session. She was a little more nervous this time around. He had told her that they would be starting hypnotherapy today. She had been terrified of her dreams for so long now that the thought of facing them was not something she was looking forward to.
"Good afternoon Summer." Dr. Young greeted her, gesturing for her to take a seat on the couch. "How have things been since our last appointment?"
"Things have been alright I guess." She replied with a quick shrug as she hung up her jacket and took a seat. "I went for that ride with Dillon you suggested."
"How did that work out?" He asked her as he closed the door to secure them some privacy.
"Not as well as I hoped." She sighed. The note of disappointment in her voice was obvious. She really wanted this to work; she wanted to be able to get closer. "I was able to let him hold me, I didn't pull away from him like I usually do, but it still felt a lot more awkward and uncomfortable than I'd like."
"You can't rush this Summer, you still have quite a bit to work through." He reminded her. "It's still early days, you should be happy that you at least managed that small step."
Summer gave him a weak smile as she fidgeted nervously with her necklace. She knew that he was right, she had made progress, she was just frustrated that things were not moving as quickly as she'd like.
"So you said we were going to start hypnotherapy sessions today." Summer stated. "What's involved? Are we going to talk about my dreams?"
"Not yet, firstly I'd like to talk a little bit about your family life." He told her. "I need to get a better idea of what made you the person you are now before I start to tackle what these dreams mean."
"But I know what the dreams mean, the dreams are about Ronan." She protested. "That's my problem; I'm scared of someone taking advantage of me like that..."
"I don't know about that, I'd just like to get a little background." He told her. "Would you like some water before we begin?"
"That would be good thanks." She replied. Dr. Young poured her a cup from the water cooler and handed it to her. Summer took a sip and set it down on the table by the couch.
"I'd like you to lie down on the couch and try to relax." He instructed her. "Just close your eyes and take a few deep breaths."
Summer did as she was told, lying back on the comfortable sofa and began breathing deeply. She followed the soothing tone of his voice as he started to put her under.
"You are completely safe in this environment. Nothing you remember, nothing you see can hurt you here." He reminded her as he started a metronome swinging, causing the slow, rhythmical ticking from it, drawing her consciousness from the room. "If anything upsets you or frightens you, if you feel uncomfortable at all at any time all you have to do is ask, and we'll end the session. Do you understand?" He asked her. Summer nodded to indicate that she understood.
"Why don't you tell me about your earliest family memory?" He suggested. "What's the earliest memory you have?"
"I'm about five, maybe six years old. I'm playing with my dolls house in the living room." She said, describing the scene as she recalled it. "I'm playing with the nanny's kids. Mom and dad are busy, so the nanny's watching me."
"What are their names?" He asked her. Summer smiled as she remembered her childhood friends.
"The nanny's name was Mrs. Kitchner. Her kids were called Freddy and Julie." She answered. "Mom didn't like me calling the servants by their first names, but I spent a lot of time with Freddy and Julie. They were about the same age as me."
"How do you feel about them?" He asked her.
"Julie was my best friend almost since I was born. Freddy was a little older than us." Summer told him. "I spent almost all my time with them."
"Why do you remember this day in particular?" He asked her. "What was special about this day?"
"I was playing with the others when I hurt myself. The doll's house was so big I needed to stand on a stool to reach the top floor." She recalled as she thought about it. "I fell and hurt my head. I started crying, I just wanted mom and dad to make me feel better, so I ran into the other room to tell them what had happened. When I got there, they were screaming at each other. I'd never seen them fight before; they didn't even notice I was there. They both seemed so angry, I was scared. I begged them to stop yelling."
"What did they do?" He asked her.
"Dad shouted Mrs. Kitchner through from the other room and yelled at her. He told her it was her job to look after me and he sent me away." She recalled. "They never even asked me what was wrong. They just sent me and Mrs. Kitchner away. I only wanted them to make me feel better!"
"How did that make you feel?" He asked her.
"I felt really lonely." She admitted. "Mom and dad never spent much time with me, but that was the first time I could remember them ignoring me. Mrs. Kitchner cleaned up the cut on my forehead and got me some ice cream. She told me that sometimes grown-ups shouted at each other. I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but I'd heard people yelling before. This was different. It was like they hated each other."
"Did they?" He asked her. Summer let out a small whimper, barely able to snatch a couple of breaths, before answering.
"I don't know. I think maybe they loved each other once, but that day I couldn't help looking at them differently." She continued. "I noticed them arguing more and more. They tried to hide it, but I listened at the door a few times. I quickly learned that any time they went into my dad's office it was so I wouldn't hear them arguing. They argued pretty much all the time, and I hated it. Mrs. Kitchner used to see the way I'd watch them go into his office, and she'd always give me a hug and tell me everything would be alright, but it didn't stop me hating it every time I saw them go into his office."
"Your parent's argued a lot?" He asked her. Summer nodded to confirm this.
"Yes. They argued all the time." She told him. "I used to see Mrs. Kitchner hugging her kids all the time. I was always so jealous when I saw that. Mom and dad never encouraged public displays of affection. They always said it wasn't becoming of a Landsdown. I didn't care though; I just wanted us to be like Mrs. Kitchner and her kids. They seemed so much happier than us; I really wanted us to be like that."
Dr. Young could tell that this was bringing up a lot of unpleasant feelings for her, some that she probably never expressed or dealt with consciously. Much of this probably festered in her for years without her really being able to talk about it. This was one of the reasons he favoured hypnotherapy as a form of treatment. It made people a lot more receptive to opening up about long-buried feelings. He thought that he might be getting close to the limit though, it was obviously causing her some level of distress, and he knew she might be close to calling an end to the session if she became too upset.
"You said you enjoyed your time with Mrs. Kitchner and the kids." He began, in an attempt to bring her back to happier thoughts from that time in her life. "How close were you?"
"Julie was my best friend until I was 10 years old." She informed the therapist. "I talked to her about everything. Freddy was the first boy I ever trusted, he was always really sweet and kind to me."
"What about Mrs. Kitchner?" He asked her.
"She was always really nice to me; she treated me almost like one of her own kids." She told him. "I loved spending time with them; she really made me feel good about myself."
"You said they were your friends until you were 10." He asked her. "What happened?"
"Dad sent Mrs. Kitchner and her kids away." Summer replied. "They moved out of the house, dad got really angry and he fired her."
She whimpered a little and a few tears came down her face.
"I'd heard him scream at mom before, but this was completely different. He went totally berserk! He started breaking things and he screamed at her like she'd done something terrible." She sniffed, recalling the scene. "I was so frightened; I thought he was going to hurt her. I begged him to stop screaming, but that just seemed to make him angrier. He told her that she was never to come to the house again and had Andrews, the butler, throw her stuff into the drive way. She and her kids left the house after that. I never saw them again."
"What happened between them?" Dr. Young asked. "Why was your dad so angry?"
"I'd like to stop." She murmured weakly.
"Are you sure?" He asked her. "It's your session; I can end it whenever you feel you can't go on."
Summer nodded her head weakly and sniffed back another tear. It was getting too much for her remembering what had happened before.
"It's too hard, it hurts too much. Please, I'd like to stop." She begged him. Dr. Young placed a hand warmly on her shoulder, and started the metronome ticking again.
"Follow the sound of my voice." He instructed her. "You are in my office, this is a safe place. When I count to three, I'd like you to wake up, and take a minute to compose yourself. 1...2...3!"
Summer opened her eyes and sat up slowly on the couch, wiping a couple of tears away from her eyes. Dr. Young picked up the cup from the table next to her and handed it to her as she composed herself.
"I haven't thought about them in years." Summer told him. "I tried to get my dad to reconsider..."
"It's alright. It's best not to try and force these things." He reminded her. "We'll have time in our next session."
Summer nodded her head in understanding and went to the coat hook, gathering her jacket. She paused for a second by the door.
"Is there something else I can help you with?" He asked her. Summer looked at him a little curiously for a while.
"Am I insane?" She asked him.
"I discourage that term." He replied empathetically.
"Then what's wrong with me?" She asked him.
"It's too early for me to start throwing around labels." He responded. "Make an appointment for next week with Maxie before you leave. I'll see you then."
"What about Dillon?" She asked him. "Last week you wanted me to go riding with him. Is there something else you want me to do?"
"He's really important to you isn't he?" Dr. Young asked her. Summer nodded, and he could see from the look in her eyes exactly how important he was to her.
"Try not to rush things. If you feel up to it, maybe you could try going for another ride on your motorcycle." He replied. "Other than that, I would say you should be proud of yourself for your progress."
"But it doesn't feel like I've accomplished anything." Summer responded in an exasperated tone.
"You've made a start." Dr. Young assured her. "I'll see you next week."
Summer threw on her jacket and left his office, stopping by Maxie's desk.
"Dr. Young wants me to make another appointment." She muttered. The secretary got out the date book and checked it for an available slot.
"I have the same time next week." She replied. Summer just mumbled something. Maxie wrote in the appointment.
"You need to be patient. I know that's the hardest part." Maxie told her as she put the appointment book back in her desk drawer. "I know it was one of the most frustrating things when I was a patient. I just wanted him to tell me something that would make everything alright. I swear I felt like slapping him any time he told me that it doesn't work that way. I can tell you one thing though. It does get easier eventually."
"Thanks." Summer responded quietly as she left. She was still frustrated by how little progress she seemed to make. She knew Maxie and Dr. Young were trying to help, trying to make her feel better, but it just felt like she was barely making any progress at all. People just kept telling her she could only help herself, but she had chickened out when she was barely getting started. She was so angry at herself for not being able to continue. If she was going to get through this, she needed to push herself harder.
Meanwhile at the Venjix headquarters, Tanaya breathed a sigh of relief as the sensory deprivation helmet was removed. Light hurt her eyes after being kept in the dark for so long, but even the painful burning sensation was a relief from the darkness. The mechanical clanking of machinery may as well have been a perfectly tuned orchestra, and the pungent scent of machine oil was like a beautiful perfume. After being stuck in the hellish living death of simply experiencing nothing, any sensation was a wonderful experience.
"Did you enjoy your little bit of quiet time?" Venjix asked her.
"You can go to hell!" She snapped in response.
"In case you forgot, I control you." Venjix reminded her as a Grinder came over to her and sliced her neatly across the right cheek with its weapon, causing blood to begin running down her face. She felt the warm, wet sensation leaking down her face and glared at the machine hatefully.
"I have decided what is to be your assignment." Venjix stated, drawing her attention back to the supercomputer, main data bank. "I will send you to attack the orphanage."
"The Power Rangers will defend it." She reminded Venjix. "It will draw all of them out, but their power is too great. I will not be able to destroy them by myself..."
"That is why your mission is not to destroy the Rangers." Venjix interrupted her. "It is to destroy the orphanage."
"That makes no sense; the orphanage is not a military target." She reminded it as one of the Grinders put on her visor and dropped it over her face. "There is no tactical value in destroying it..."
"You destroyed my Grinders for attacking children. It appears you have a soft spot for them." Venjix interrupted her with a slightly sinister tone to its voice. "Perhaps destroying the little ones will destroy that irritating little piece of humanity left in your heart. Maybe then such things will not bother you any further."
"You can't be serious!" She shrieked.
"I am always serious." The computer assured her. "You are to go to the orphanage and raze it to the ground."
She felt the implants being deactivated and the restraints on her chair sprang open, allowing her to stand.
"One of my loyal servants will be monitoring your every move. If you do not follow my orders completely, your life will be terminated." Venjix told her. "I want you to slay every living thing in that building."
"No!" She yelled. "Master, I beg you to reconsider, I'll do anything..."
"You will do anything, because you already know what will happen if you do not." Venjix interrupted her. "Remember, I will monitor your every move. Either the orphanage is destroyed, or you will be."
Tanaya bowed her head in defeat and left the room, making her way towards the city. She knew that Venjix would destroy her, and that it would not be a quick or merciful end. Thinking about the last time she had been at the orphanage, and the fight at the playground, she knew that she couldn't do it. She couldn't harm the children, regardless of what would happen to her, but if she just turned back now, she would only end up back in sensory isolation, or destroyed on the spot.
She formed a new plan as she entered the city, taking the only way out she could. Venjix would not allow her to destroy herself, and she could not refuse the mission. There was only one other option. She activated a frequency in her communicator that she knew the Rangers used. They would now be able to see and hear everything she did. They would know where she was going and would intercept her. She wouldn't be able to harm the orphanage if she was engaged in battle with the Rangers.
A tear leaked down her face as she marched to the inevitable conclusion to her plan. If she could not destroy herself, and Venjix would not grant her a quick and merciful destruction, then perhaps the Rangers would.