Et In Obumbratio
Christmas came and went, with Grace spending it with her family, and Adam spending it alone. Not that he thought wouldn't. Pritchard had scurried off, though recalling Grace's comment about him wearing a Santa hat did amuse the agent for quite some time.
Adam's next appointment loomed. He squinted at that word, loomed. It tasted bitter on his tongue, with a hint of pain, like he'd scalded it.
He had scalded it. In his daydreaming, he'd taken a sip of red hot coffee, sucking in a breath after doing so, trying to cool the burning. He spluttered, almost dropping the cup if not for augmented fingers, with much more grip than his hands prior ever had tightened on the porcelain. He placed it onto a coaster and sighed, standing up and walking into the bathroom.
In there, he swilled his mouth out with cold water in the cap of his mouthwash. The slight minty freshness did not meld well with the sweet coffee. He grimaced, swished the odd watery mixture around and spat it out. He did this a few times, eventually, the stinging sensation ceased, much to his relief. The taste of caffeine had all but gone now, and the warm, steaming up no longer appealing as his personal assistant informed him he had an incoming call.
It was from Frank. This surprised him. He accepted the call, sat down and thought about putting feet up, before deciding that'd be too casual.
And he was not casual with Frank. They were made to antagonise one another after all...
Him laughing caught Frank off guard.
"I take it's been a 'Happy Christmas' for you, Jensen?"
Adam smirked.
"What," he put his hands out at his side, "no one want to pull a cracker with you Frank?"
Frank's face did not move, expression remaining serious.
"Adam. Sarif hasn't told you?"
Adam tilted his head.
"Hmm?...No. Not surprised." He sighed. "What about?"
"Sarif Industries is done Adam. Stocks plummeted after the incident in Panchaea, and they've been tumbling for months. The money's rapidly dwindling, and there's nothing he can do. Investors are pulling out left, right and centre too."
Adam's smirk died.
"And if I call him, he'll tell me everything is fine."
Frank nodded.
"He's in the red Adam, and there's nothing he can do."
Adam squinted.
"Not spending billions of credits on me might have helped some."
His mumble didn't go unnoticed.
"That wouldn't have made a difference. Not a patch on the amount of debt he is in."
"It's that bad?" Adam's brows rose. "Shit."
"You'll have to start paying for your sessions with Grace from now on."
"Or, I could just not go anymore."
Frank's face morphed into one that looked suspiciously like a murderous glint to the agent. He put up his hands and backed up.
"I'm kidding. I need to go to the sessions. I know that."
The lines on Frank's forehead ceased their severity.
"Good. I'm glad you know that, Jensen."
Adam's home security system chimed into the mix.
Adam? You have another incoming call. Shall I add connect it to your current one?
"Who is it?"
It is Dr Fielding.
Adam nodded. Grace's face popped up besides Frank's on the wall monitor.
Grace expected to only see Adam's face. Frank's also took her by surprise. She waved a hand.
"Frank, Adam. Pardon me for disturbing."
Adam waved, motioning for her to continue.
She cleared her throat.
"I wish I had good news, but, I don't, and I'm not about to sugarcoat it."
Both men wore confused masks.
"Megan knows, Adam. She knows about our appointments. Someone informed her, and that is concerning."
Adam's stomach dropped, his heart lurched. He instantly felt sick. Swallowing on a dry throat, he looked away from the screen, focusing on a spot on the floor. Grace shook her head.
"I'm sorry Adam. I wish I could have called with better news. I was called by a receptionist, private number. She informed me that Miss Reed wishes to see me, before she told me she was leaving."
The brunette's head shot up.
"Leaving?"
Grace nodded.
"Yes. I wasn't told where, I doubt I would be if I asked. Though, from her tone, I got the feeling she is leaving it all behind, starting anew. With all that is happening, I think that's a safe bet."
She frowned. Frank chimed in, coughing.
"Perhaps that is for the best."
Adam glared at the tech, effectively shutting him up. Grace spied the look, the altercation and shook her head again.
"I just thought I'd let you know..."
Adam groaned.
"Sarif Industries going under, Megan's turning tail, and, being unable to have anything secret anymore? Anything else to add to that?"
The doctor paused.
"Wait, what?"
"Never mind that."
The agent had heard enough.
"When and where are you meeting Megan?"
"You know I can't disclose that. I took an oath, Adam, the Hippocratic Oath. Anything that happens where I am to meet her, anything that is said stays within those walls."
Adam saw the interactive newspaper on his coffee table, his mind drawing a blank on the current topic. It was like he was no longer in the room, autopilot mode engaged.
"The attacks, not just on augmented people too. The whole world is in chaos, and no one can do anything."
Frank blanched.
"That is not true Adam."
Grace pointed out.
"It's fear, Adam. Humans fear things they don't understand. Its in our nature to fight or flee from things we don't comprehend. Unfortunately, instead of trying to learn new things, most people will react badly, and lash out. They are provoking one another, some intentionally, others not."
She paused.
"The psychologist mask slipped on there. I apologise."
Adam's grip on the glass tightened. It shattered from the force, though, he seemed not to notice. His world fazed out. In the blink of an eye, he found he could not focus. He vaguely registered a voice near him, though, he could not distinguish who said it, or what was said.
"Adam?"
Grace sighed, regression in full bloom before her eyes.
"Frank? I think we should go. Trying to get his attention now will only provoke his innermost feelings."
Before disconnecting the call, she looked the tech guy in the eye.
"Look out for him. Just, don't push too much. We are on borrowed time here, but sanity doesn't run on a schedule. Take care."
Frank nodded, and the two disconnected the call.
A week later
Grace met Megan, a few days before she was due to see Adam again. How the woman found out about his appointments she couldn't discern, but it concerned her. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. She was antsy, somewhere she did not know. Megan had the upper ground here, that much was certain. What concerned her was the level of protection here.
From the outside, the building looked inconspicuous, innocuous, simply an office block.
However, once inside, there were two check points. One was to check for hidden microphones, any software that could be concealed on her person.
The second wished for the doctor to hand over her phone, and even her bag. It only contained a mirror, lip balm, a pack of tissues and some gum, but, the men asking for her possessions were staunch, stone-faced, all edges. This perturbed her. She would have complied no matter the demeanour of the people around her, but, the shady manner in which they acted had her suppressing the urge to squint.
Seems like some of you could do with an appointment. I wouldn't like what you had to say though, judging by your demeanour...
So, now, she was sat, in an 'office.' This room contained a water cooler and one chair, the one Grace currently sat on. She took a plastic cup and pressed the button on the cooler to dispense some much needed hydration. The building felt warm, stifling almost. Grace muttered under her breath, regretting wearing a thick cotton suit and tights. If it didn't look unprofessional, she would have undone the top two buttons of her blouse. She eventually decided to take her jacket off, draping it over her arm as she waited.
A man, nothing remarkable about him or his appearance came to get her after twenty minutes, minutes that felt more like hours inside the room. It felt oppressive, as if she did not belong here. The look the man gave her confirmed that she was unwanted here. He knew she was psychoanalysing him, and he did not like it.
The doctor observed everything about the man, from the slight limpness in his right leg to the male pattern baldness on the crown of his head. He looked to have been through a lot, likely far more than the human mind could take in a lifetime.
Grace merely nodded and followed the man to a set of stairs. He said nothing as he walked up them.
The man led the way to a large, all-white room. The large bay windows betrayed an coldness to it. Worry twisted its way around Grace's gut.
"Miss Reed? I am Dr Grace Fielding," she offered a hand, which Megan shook, "It is good to meet you."
"Megan, please."
Megan's lips made a downturn for a split second, before she affixed her mask in place. She was shielding herself from Grace. The doctor recalled Adam did something similar to that behaviour, though, she did not bring it up, deeming it not conducive.
"You know I can't discuss patient information, or what was disclosed in sessions."
She paused, quite aware of her tone, not wanting it to come across defensive. Adam didn't need her defending him...
"I am aware of your inquiries, however, as a doctor yourself, you must know of our oath. The original, and perhaps Louis Lasagna's version too?"
Megan nodded.
"I know Grace. It's just," the breath she had been holding in came out unintentionally a sigh, "I worry about him. He died in front of me Grace, in front of David, Frank...he died several times."
She deliberately used the word 'several,' not wanting to name the actual number. That number made her want to throw up until only bile came out, stinging her trachea.
Grace did not know this. Megan's eagle eyes spotted confusion on the older woman's face.
"He didn't tell you that?" She tch'ed. "Not surprising. Its not exactly something you bring up, whether in casual or clinic surroundings."
Grace nodded.
"No, that is something I will attempt to work up too. It is all on his terms Megan. What I can say is that I will not pry, nor will I try to force my way into his mind. That is not proper practise, and would go against both the oath and very human nature. I would like to get to know Adam, not know him. The latter is a front, the former something that's been kept deep inside himself for a long time. I am unsure as to whether or not he still has the key, the capacity to open up. I hope I am proven wrong."
Megan chuckled, taking Grace off guard.
"Yeah. That's the Adam I know," she paused, her mask falling again, "knew. And," she smiled wryly, "you don't speak like any psychologist I've ever known. What's your speciality?"
"I studied biology, majored in that and clinical psychology. I have been trained in CBT and EMDR therapy techniques too, though I do not see a need for either, in Adam's case. I believe what he needs is an ear, not another voice telling him to 'get better,' as if its that simple."
Megan's eyes flashed alarm. Grace shook her head upon realisation.
"Oh! No! I don't mean your voice, or Sarif or Frank's. I refer to the voice in his head, his internal monologue. The one that wants him to get better on his own, not seek help. Every time I see him, I can see a gradual decline, physically more so. He hides behind, literally his, shades? Glasses? Visor? I've no idea what its called, but, you get the picture."
The younger gave a curt nod.
"He's a tricky one. When I first met him, he gave off independent, quiet, almost reserved. When I got to know him, I found out he was all of those, but also one of the most loving people I've come across, he just isn't obvious with it. I did love him Grace."
She stopped when her heart clenched, a tight knot around it.
"I have no doubt of that. I, too am not one for 'PDA' as people affectionately call it. I call it as it is. 'People doing things you usually would do behind closed doors,' as we've all witnessed much more than mere kisses and hand-holding, I'm sure."
She laughed.
"I sound like a prudish old woman."
Megan joined in the laughter.
"PDA wasn't our thing. I don't know if we ever really had a relationship though, besides professional. We still felt the need to hide it from the office, despite not really knowing if we were a 'we.' Actually," she choked, swallowing quickly, "I think he thought we were. I was the one unsure of it all. I've never been the unsure type, I've always known what I want and I strive for it. But, with people, they are far more complex than a job title, a degree, etc."
"Humans are complex organisms, far more than titles. It isn't easy to control their pathways. I can only guide them, not lead, not have them follow, only suggest if they wish too. I am no shepherd, my patients no flock. They are humans, as am I. That's what links us. The problems that arise are challenges I believe we can overcome. It's when people let the challenge overcome them that they lose the will to fight. Easy to let something overwhelm you when your will to battle has all but one." A glance at the clock told the doctor it had been over an hour since she and Megan introduced themselves. "I must be going, I have a few home appointments to attend too. Thank you for the opportunity to meet you Megan."
Megan squinted.
"See if I really was a factor in Adam's downfall?"
Grace shook her head.
"Not at all. I wished to meet you on friendly terms, as strangers but not so in regards to Adam. He has mentioned you, as I would expect. I suspect he carries feelings he cannot warrant at the moment. I find when you fall in love, after the split, most still carry a piece of the other party with them in their hearts, whether they wish too or not. I wasn't ever here to argue Megan, I came here because I felt meeting you would help clarify some things. It is always good to look at both sides of the coin before you make assumptions. I find assumptions only cause more issues."
The two women stood, both offering a hand at the same time.
"Quite right."
They shook hands.
"Thank you for agreeing to come, Grace. I understand why you wouldn't as it could be seen as a 'conflict of interest.'"
"It could be by others. Not by us. I wish you look in future endeavours, Miss Reed."
Megan grinned.
"The formalities are back huh? What did I do?"
She teased, prompting more laughter.
"I only used your term in respect, not to be cold, callous."
"I know, I know," she held up her hands, "I'm teasing. It was nice meeting you, Dr Fielding. I hope you can help Adam, he deserves it," she mumbled the rest, "he needs to know he deserves it. That seeking help is okay."
Grace nodded, picking up her purse and heading towards the door.
The man outside swiped his key card, a beep signalling the door was open. This struck her as odd.
They were locked in the room? Why? Were they a threat? To what? Whom? And why was the building the meeting took place in nondescript? Plain visage, plain interior, lacking any character...it had a sour feeling ease its way into her gut, followed by a cold shiver when the guard by the exit handed her possessions back to her. She peered at her phone curiously when outside, wondering if something had been done to it, if it had been altered in any way. Luckily, she did not use it for appointments, nor did she use the email function on it. If whomever arranged the meeting wanted information on her and or any of her patients, they would have to try harder.
The chill did not leave the doctor as she hurried to the metro station. Even the rush of people, the hum of electric engines and hive of activity around her did not sooth her troubles. She had a feeling something was amiss, and, possibly, another party was involved.
She could ask David, though, she knew he wouldn't tell her much.
Frank wouldn't know, nor Malik.
Adam?
No. Put this behind you Grace. Megan shouldn't have known what she did. If someone is pulling the strings elsewhere, in time, they'll show themselves.
The thought irked her. She, sure as hell was no puppet, neither was Adam. She feared someone had made Megan one, weaving their way into matters they really shouldn't...
Grace's train arrived, which she stepped onto with trepidation. Behind the scenes lay more, that much she knew.
Or, at least, she thought she knew...