Author's note: I'm keeping these short, because I have no idea where the show might be going and I don't want to get out ahead of the plot, but I have THINGS cluttering up my head and doing this is the main way I get them out. So if you could just go with it... (Of course you will, you're such a lovely audience.)
P.S. Yes, I'm being very pretentious with the title, but seriously, go re-read Macbeth, it's still so good.
‐-
Dying, it turned out, was a bureaucratic nightmare.
Which was overstating things, drastically, but she'd died damn it, Chapel was reserving the right to be overly dramatic. What she really meant was that Starfleet was making her engage with recovery assistance: get cleared or go home. It was possibly the only thing that could have made her do it. Her brain was not a place she wanted anyone poking around in, but she wanted this posting, wanted it more now it was so close to being snatched away. So she'd sighed, and rolled her eyes, and agreed, on one condition. She wasn't seeing anyone here on the ship. "There are plenty of options." M'Benga had said placidly as Chapel grit her teeth not to scream pot, kettle at him. "You can do your own research, or I can provide you with a list. But do it soon, Christine. By the end of the week. I do not wish to lose you."
Chapel had her own list. It was a year since she'd dug up every therapist on service, it was probably a little out of date, but counsellor Rilac was still practicing, still very much in comms range, and still, to Chapel's mixed chagrin, very much available for clients. They'd picked up the case as soon as the files went through, the scant minutes between confirmation of receipt and the flashing 'incoming call' notification making Chapel's spirits sink. Great, someone who barely took the time to skim patient history. Though in reality, maybe that could be an advantage. Chapel pasted on her most winning smile before she picked up, settled herself professionally on the couch. If she could look the part, maybe this could be a one and done deal. Maybe this could just be over.
"Wow." Rilac looked to be in a hammock, lounging under the dappled shade of a rustling tree, reading glasses shoved haphazardly into a shock of spiky purple hair. Their earrings were a symphony of gothic ironwork striking enough make Chapel blink, but it was their expression, flat disbelief underlaid with a knowing twist of amusement, that strained Chapel's smile. "You really want me to clear you."
Chapel recalibrated, showing her teeth a little, stretching the smile wider, leaning forward slightly in a way that said 'willing and engaged.' "That was the plan, yeah."
"Huh." Rilak studied her for a second, giving the impression of scrutinising every individual feature before focussing back on the whole. "That's killer, I bet everyone falls for that."
Not everyone. Chapel thought, only to see that private impulse register instantly in Rilac's expression. Crap. And that one too. Therapists. She gave up, slumping back into the cushions as she let the fake smile drop. "Look, I died, it was temporary, now I just want to do my job. What do I need to do to get cleared?"
"Nothing. You're good." Rilac thumbed the screen, and a confirmation pinged in Chapel's sidebar. She had to look at it twice.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. Have at it. Go forth and…" Rilac glanced at the file heading they undoubtedly still had tagged. "Explore things, or whatever you do out there. You have my blessing."
It couldn't be this easy. Could it? "Did you even open my file?"
"Why? Are your daddy issues in there? Your mommy issues? Whatever's going on with this person you don't want me asking about? - People." Rilac corrected smoothly, still watching her face.
"Who the hell are you?"
Rilac adjusted the screen to proffer a hand. "Artemis. Widely agreed to be Quebec's leading asshole. And you?"
"Chapel." There was a beat of silence while Chapel tried to find the grain, follow it out of the blank she was drawing. "Christine. I…" What even was she anymore?
"You want to tell me why you died?"
"To stop a war."
"Decent cause. You good with that?"
"Yes."
"How'd you come back?"
In ways she couldn't help but remember. Chapel blinked down at her hands as the feelings loomed behind her eyes.
"Not so good with that one." Rilac commented through the screen.
"It's complicated."
Rilac had the dubious grace not to react to that. "People die, Chapel. When it doesn't stick they tend to take it one of several ways. Which one are you?"
It would help to know what her options were, exactly, but clearly Chapel was on her own with that. "It didn't feel real, at first. Like it hadn't happened, even though I knew it did. And then it was real, and that was…"
"Existentially terrifying." Rilac supplied after a moment.
"Yes. And then that passed, and now I'm just…" She felt normal. She felt fine. "I think it just reminded me I'm alive."
"Which you didn't feel before."
What? No. Chapel felt everything tighten, made herself look up even though she already knew she'd given herself away. This was not where this conversation was meant to be going.
Rilac looked unapologetic. "I'm a shrink, Chapel. Literally my job."
The word tripped the shadow of a smile. It was the one La'an used for therapy; deprecating, pejorative. Perhaps not all that surprising. There was a reason Rilac had made the list all those months ago. "This isn't about that."
"What is it about?"
"I just…" Chapel stared at the screen for a moment. Did she even know? She'd been cleared already. Why hadn't she hung up? "People keep telling me… they think I should be, traumatised, or something. I feel like…"
"You're waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Yes. "Will it?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you don't believe you're going to die."
She really didn't. Didn't that make her mad?
"You have a killer smile, Chapel. People with smiles like that live the fairy tale, even when they tell themselves they don't. Embrace it. Enjoy it. You've found the up side."
The up side. She felt suddenly rent open, a loneliness so deep it hit soul.
"I'll add you to my list. You get over your whole 'therapists will unearth my darkest secrets and prove I'm fundamentally unworthy' stuff, give me a call. You sound like someone interesting."
The screen went blank. Chapel closed her eyes, took a couple of conscious breaths, and felt… better. Fine. And she was cleared now, she could go back to work and no one would get to question her about it. She felt good. She saved Rilac's contact information, because that was something a sane person would do, not because she thought she would use it, and reflected that Rilac would have been a good fit for La'an, if Sanchez hadn't worked out. Brutally to the point.
There was a lot to be said for that.
Author's note: What does Rilac mean by 'living the fairy tale' and 'the up side'? Why does Chapel react to that the way she does? Discuss. If you have the time, I'd love to know whether what you take from that is what I intended to put in.