The Call Of Nature
Grace gingerly sipped her coffee. It was boiling. It stung her mouth, though she forced herself to swallow the liquid. Her throat was parched. She often considered bringing in her water jug from home, though, water did not contain caffeine. And, with how tired she had been feeling lately? She sorely needed the caffeine 'fix.' She observed the man sitting opposite her after putting the mug down.
Adam looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. When he withdrew his shades, red blotted the whites of his eyes, dotted about. Under them were ever heavier bags, drawing attention to his obvious lack of rest. Grace pondered how to start, or, to be frank, restart their appointments. Starting with a simple 'Hello,' then leaving it to him to speak felt too basic to her. She wasn't sure if the man would speak or participate in any way today.
How are you? How was your day? Your week?
Too personable? Grace greeted her patients like this not to make them feel uncomfortable, or that she was being overly friendly. She said this because she wanted them to feel she was a confidant, someone they could talk to in confidence. An ally in helping their cause, trying to help them lighten their mental load.
She began with a simple,
"Good afternoon Adam."
The man merely nodded. That response elicited a sigh to almost bubble from the doctor's throat, but she suppressed it, faking a yawn. Adam perked up.
"Keeping you up, am I? I'll go."
Grace frowned, deep lines marred her forehead.
"Adam."
She said his name cautiously, but with a little warning in her tone. Adam caught that, without needing his retinal aug.
"What?"
He sighed and shifted, but his head in a metal hand.
Grace grabbed a cup and offered it to him. He declined, so she tried another tack.
"When did you last breathe? Take a step back and breathe?"
Adam blinked.
"I'm not allowed too."
Grace tried a different tack.
"You prefer idioms? I hope you realise I only speak the truth of what I see, what I hear. If you wish someone who lies to to you, I can always refer you. I regret that lies are some of the people in my profession's vernacular."
Adam felt anger simmer within him, but swallowed it down. The doctor was merely trying to placate him. But, after what had occurred in the past eight months, he was beginning to question whether anyone could do that.
An almost impossible task?
Yes.
And he made it like that. He made it so. He'd screamed at Pritchard when he'd brought him a coffee that had too much coffee in it. This was when it dawned on him why he needed Grace. Someone needed to get through to the Adam inside him, the man before the insanity, the chaos of the attack.
The man, desperately clinging on to something, anything tangible.
Grace raised a brow, taking a sip of her tea and grabbing her tablet with her free hand.
"You wish me to allocate you a number, lecture you and give you drugs? Impersonal, and that isn't my style of..."
Adam cut in.
"Help, doc? This isn't helping. It's dredging up all the lies I've been told, what I've been through, what I've seen."
Grace sat up, choosing not to speak. This was a little breakthrough, and she wasn't about to disturb his progress, which began it's steady flow.
Adam put his head in his hands dejectedly.
"God," he sighed, "I can't."
"You can."
That small sentence, that slight voice willed him on.
"Every time I grasp onto something, am on to a good thing, its taken away, always violently. I am...I don't want to grab onto anything anymore, through...fear that'll be snatched from me."
He looked at his arms, metal overlay, interlacing with yet more metal.
"These. I'm torn between thinking they're useful and abominations. Even with the slightest force, I can crush people, destroy things. Hell, even punch through walls."
Grace observed as well as listened intently.
"Do you mean to do that? Sounds rather, unnecessary. Were no doors available?"
She felt a jolt of panic at this, joking with him. This mixed with wanting to chuckle made her pull a face.
She coughed.
"I appreciate that you chose to use the door to my office."
Adam, despite felling like his head would explode from a migraine coming on laughed. He actually laughed. For the first time in what felt like an age, genuine sound came from him. Grace smiled. It looked like she hadn't yet pushed him too close to the edge.
Not that she meant to of course. He needed to do that himself.
"Doors are more overt. Less noise."
The doctor nodded.
"And walls are more covert. I imagine they make quite the racket when, punched."
Adam nodded, though continued to hold his head.
"Right."
"It hurts remembering, right? The most painful physical scars can leave lasting emotional ones that we cannot see, the outside world cannot see. However, I see it was a barrier. The pain prevents you from pushing through the darkness, the sadness. It keeps you in place. You wish for silence and peace, yet only static from an as yet attuned world fills your ears."
The ex-SWAT agent pursed his lips.
"Philosophy?"
Grace shrugged, the action surprising Adam.
"I could have gone with poetry, but I figured flowery words and waxing lyrical wasn't apropos."
"But, yes, you're right doc."
She almost tutted.
"Back to formalities I see. Okay, Mr Jensen."
Adam smirked, though not from nasty intent.
"Did you just concede defeat?"
Now Grace smirked.
"Never. That word isn't even in my vocabulary. Honestly."
She sighed out a chuckle.
"Okay Adam. So, what do you want to get from these appointments?"
He answered immediately.
"Closure, if there is such a thing."
Grace nodded.
"Don't psychoanalyse me doc. I've had enough of people trying to do that to me. And now, I can do it. I fucking hate it. I can see right through people's lies. You'd think after years of listening to people's bullshit, I'd appreciate being able to see through them like a pane of glass. But, no. I can't stand it. I want to claw at my head, until I reach deep enough to crack open my skull and rip out these fucked up parts inside me."
The doctor swallowed, the conversation having taken a turn for the worse. A twist of her stomach brought on nausea. She'd had some files on Adam's operations, only a few, but it gave her a pretty clear vision of what he'd been through.
And, truth be told? She'd seen some horrors in her life, witnessed untold agony, people's self-destruction from the inside out.
But, with Adam? He had been destroyed from the inside out. Cut up, bloodied, scarred, bruised. He'd returned to work after only six months of his allocated year of leave, and in the reports she had in her files, his colleges had told her that they'd seen nasty bruising on the man's neck. They'd seen him limping, unwilling to retract his shades, as when light permeated the office he shared with Frank, it would hurt them. They were still far too sensitive for him to function like he used too.
Frank had fixed that, finding the retinal augs were slightly out of sync with the predominant one in his brain.
The one he detested most, the C.A.S.I.E aug. He didn't so much as mind the strength increase, if only the change hadn't been more exponential than it needed to be, in his opinion.
She finished her coffee and set down the cup.
"Do you see any benefits to them? There must be some. I'm sure Sarif wouldn't have done what he did if he though it would bring you untold misery."
Adam shot her a look.
"Do you think he even thought of me during any of his plans? How it would make me feel?"
He laughed bitterly. Grace countered.
"I cannot believe he wouldn't have thought that. You may think him some monster, but..."
"No. Oh no. I'm the monster. He just had a hand and billions of credits in creating me."
"Remember Adam, People believe Frankenstein was the monster. He wasn't. Neither of them were monsters in my opinion. One was a desperate man, vying to go to the outermost reaches of human conscious and existence. The other was a child's mind, in the body of a hulking man. He needed help, not vilifying."
Adam scoffed.
"You're comparing me to Frankenstein?"
Grace nodded.
"I am. Too bold a statement?"
He didn't have an answer. Only he saw himself as a monster. No one else, well, they hadn't told him to his face if they thought it, had said they disliked him, his new appearance since he returned to Sarif Industries. They all greeted him with smiles, well wishes and condolences for Megan's team being kidnapped, and the loss of their friends and fellow colleges.
None had judged him. Only he had. He was causing his own misery, steering himself into his own downfall. No one had helped him dig the pit he crafted in his mind. The hole was descending, deeper and deeper into the earth, into his mind...
Unless he dropped the metaphorical shovel, he was dooming himself to a pitiful existence, only keeping himself around for other people's benefit.
He didn't want that. He wanted, no, he needed to fight with all that he had left. Get a grip on his remaining sanity and never, under any circumstances let go of it.
He'd surely fall if he did...
He looked up, putting his arm on the rest of the chair.
"No. Not too bold. It's the truth, I just didn't wish to hear it."
Grace's phone lit up, it vibrated to signal the end of the appointment. She grabbed a card and pen and began filling it out.
"You're doing really well, Adam. It may not feel like it, but a genuine small leap forward is better than a forced, large one. Are we okay to continue?"
Adam nodded. "After Christmas or before? I'm rather busy with family engagements before, but afterwards, no."
"After. I suppose I should do something for the holidays."
Grace was careful to broach the subject of family. It was already tentative at best.
"Well, I can't imagine Frank being one for bells, whistles, tinsel and a Santa hat. Though the image is entertaining."
She grinned, and Adam shook his head playfully. She filled in the small boxes and clicked the pen. She grabbed her phone and checked the calendar.
"I am free the 11th, 15th and 22nd of January. Afternoon again Would that be better for your work schedule?"
Adam arrived at work at seven am, so the afternoon would be much easier to make time for.
He nodded.
"Okay. Let's say three pm, though that can be changed."
She handed him the card. He slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket.
Grace smiled again, once she spotted his mug was half full.
"The coffee really is that bad, huh."
She stifled a laugh.
"I'll remember to warn you next time, Mr Jensen."
The formalities made him shake his head in jest, though he appreciated the lightness of Grace's demeanour. His head throbbed a little less than before now. He needed a smoke, but would try and go a few hours without, see if he could manage it. He didn't even need the vice, and they wouldn't damage his Redbreathers, but he gave into the nicotine pull every time.
He'd considered quitting though wasn't ever serious about it. He hadn't given it the proper thought it needed. He'd give it another go, with intent this time. If he could let go of his demons, he could let go of cigarettes, surely...
For this chapter, I had a piece gifted to me of Grace and Adam. It is on my DeviantArt, Aquamonkey92. It is called AJ and Grace, by Bua-Ryohei, and its fantastic.