Jenny stood outside Dr. Renway's office on Level 2 of the building, trying to stop her hands from shaking. Every time she closed her eyes there was a flash and she was back in that dark, concrete bunker, struggling to get free as the ropes rubbed the skin from her wrists. Or she strained to see into the thick darkness, ears alert for any sound that might tell her where the man was and when he might be coming back.
For a second Jenny saw her vision narrowing, as if she were looking through a tunnel and the blackness tried to take over. She leaned against the wall and drew a deep breath, trying desperately not to pass out. That would just not be a good start to the session. After several slow, deep breaths, Jenny's vision returned to normal but her hands were still shaking and her heart was racing. Whose bright idea was this anyways? Oh well, it was now or never, Jenny thought, finally reaching for the door and turning the knob.
A young woman at the front desk looked up and smiled. "Director Sheppard, right on time. Go on in, Dr. Renway is expecting you."
Jenny put on her director face and headed for the door the young woman had indicated. Knocking out of courtesy, she waited.
"Come in," a woman's voice called.
Jenny entered the small room, surprised to find that it looked more like someone's living room that what she had envisioned a psychiatrist's office might look like. A slender woman Jenny's height with thick, dark hair half pulled back in a clip, deep ocean blue eyes, and a bright smiled stood to greet her.
"Director Sheppard, welcome. I'm Dr. Renway, but please, call me Kristyn. And may I call you Jennifer?"
Jenny took Kristyn's offered hand, amazed to feel immediately drawn to the woman she'd been prepared to hate. "It's Jenny actually." the only people who ever called her Jennifer were Ducky and her father, when he was still alive.
"Have a seat," Kristyn indicated an overstuffed chair and a dark blue loveseat sized couch. Jenny chose the couch. Kristyn sat across from Jenny in an oddly shaped chair. She smiled. "Now, contrary to popular opinion, a psychiatric evaluation is not nearly as scary as it sounds, nor is it a punishment. But it is very important," Kristyn's eyes were serious, "hence the word mandatory." The therapist regarded Jenny carefully. "Something we learn rather quickly in my profession is how to read people. You didn't want to come here today, did you?"
Jenny had the idea that lying to a shrink would get her as far as lying to her husband - nowhere. "I can think of other places I'd rather be," she admitted. "I just don't think it's necessary. Honestly, I'm fine."
Kristyn had a knowing look on her face. "Jenny, fine is a word rarely used in the right context or with the proper meaning. The more fine you say you are, the more of a mess you truly are. So tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how scared are you to talk about what happened?"
"It just, makes me nervous," Jenny hedged. "It's an uncomfortable topic."
"Jenny," Kristyn lowered her voice, "your hands are shaking and you're not making eye contact with me. You're not just nervous, you're terrified. Now give me a number."
Jenny studied the material of her suit jacked intensely for several moments. "About an eight and a half," she finally muttered.
"That's good," Kristyn reassured. "Believe it or not, sometimes the hardest part is just admitting to yourself that you're scared and there's nothing wrong with that." Dr. Renway's chair was on rollers and she scooted it closer, putting her hand on Jenny's. "Look at me Jenny."
Jenny raised her eyes to meet the doctor's. She held onto the compassion she saw there like a drowning woman.
Kristyn's voice was soothing and she said the next words slowly, pronouncing each one clearly and firmly, like an undeniable truth. "This was not your fault. Nothing that happened was your fault. This was a violent crime committed against you. You have nothing to feel guilty about, no reason to be ashamed. I want you to remember and hold onto one thing in the next few day, because things are going to get worse before you see the light at the end of the tunnel. The one thing is this: you are a survivor, Jenny. You don't' have to let what happened affect you for the rest of your life. The trauma doesn't have to define you, but the label survivor? That should."
She paused to let what she'd said sink in and waited for Jenny to nod, acknowledging that she heard, if not quite believed, the words.
Then the psychiatrist shifted gears a little. "Jenny, I have here the transcript from Agent Gibbs interview with the suspect. It gives me a lot of insight into what happened but I'm going to need you to take me through everything that you remember, from the moment he grabbed you in the parking lot until you were rescued."
Jenny leaned forward and covered her face with her hands.
This was the worst part, the doctor knew. But getting her to talk about it, making her actually say the words out loud, was going to be a huge part of her healing. Burying the event and pretending nothing ever happened was a critical mistake someone in this situation often made. If they did, it would haunt them and cause major life issues for countless years after the actual experience was over. Dr. Renway was trying to spare Jenny that damage.
"I don't...I don't want to remember," Jenny whispered in a broken voice, the sound muffled by her hands. She looked up at Kristyn, "But I can't forget either."
"Tell me Jenny," Kristyn encouraged, her heart breaking at the pain she saw in the other woman's eyes.