CHAPTER 87
BECAUSE IT WAS HOME
"Say what, again?" Angie sounded unimpressed. In fact, she was borderline pissed, but masking it up skillfully by pretending to be just a tad bit surprised.
The following day, after their morning classes, Dan had pulled her aside, discussing the IRS case she had just been working on and giving her feedback, but he had also given her an unexpected and very much unwanted piece of information, too.
"Agent Garrett personally requested that." Dan said.
"And Agent Seger was okay with it?" Angie raised an eyebrow.
"Absolutely, she backed him up immediately."
"Ugh, just when I was starting to like her…" Angie rolled her eyes. This was definitely a setback in their friendly relationship.
"It's only five hours. You can choose when to go and even whom to go to. Garrett was kind enough to give me a list of available-…"
"Don't say that word!" Angie cringed.
She wasn't a fan of what Dan was making her do, nor the people she had to do it with.
"Hi, I'm Angela Hunter." She said confidently, walking in an office.
She had chosen a name from a list and it felt way too impersonal, even if it had been Clara who had kindly circled this woman's name, for Angie to choose. And yet, she didn't want to be there and she most definitely didn't want to talk to someone she did not know.
"Hello Angela, come on in. Make yourself comfortable." The woman said with a smile. "I'm Doctor Martha Allen. I've been doing this job for long enough to know that this is your first time here and that you hate my guts already."
Those words took Angie by surprise. Was she a shrink or was she a profiler?
"Mrs. Allen…I mean Dr. Allen, I don't want to come off rude and disrespectful. I apologize if I shall appear that way. But I don't like your job and I don't see how you, or any of your colleagues, can help me with something I don't need help with."
"Oh, no, it's alright. A whole bunch of Trainees had been involved in unfortunate incidents like that, or cases gone bad. They were fine, dealing with it on their own, you know, until they dropped out or got kicked out." Martha suppressed a smirk. She knew how to manipulate people.
Angie gulped. What if that was true? For a normal person, what Angie saw in Cuba surely had to be very depressing and stressful. She wasn't going to risk the Academy, only to appear tough and fine.
"Okay, I give up. It was so scary. I was on my own and I freaked out. I wanted to scream. I was-…"
"Oh, I love my job!" The therapist said, leaning back into her chair as she interrupted Angie's act. "I get to call people out on their bullshit and I get paid good money for it, too."
"And here I thought shrinks were supposed to be nice…" Angie rolled her eyes.
"Look, we don't have to discuss the case. We can talk about anything. You are stuck with me for five hours, one at a time, thank God…" She laughed. "So, why not make the most of our time? And I am, indeed, nice. Also, I'm a therapist, not a shrink."
"But the case is what got me here…" Angie was confused. Wasn't she there, so that this woman could figure out her weird lack of emotional distress? "Alright then. Ask me something." She let her take the lead, as she was not too experienced with these kinds of situations.
"Tell me about yourself. Your childhood. Do you have a photo of yourself as a child, on your phone? I'm curious. I have kids, too. I love kids." The woman had the sweetest smile on her lips, one that masked up for the underlining of that question. Angie was unable to figure out what this woman was doing.
"On second thought, let's talk about that case…" Angie sighed in despair.
She never spoke about her life. To anyone. It was surely not going to happen with someone she had just met.
"Alright then. What is your favorite food?"
"I love pizza and lasagna."
"You'd love Italy then."
"I thought so too…" Angie trailed off, remembering something from her past.
"Do you like to read?"
Angie nodded in reply.
"What genre are you interested in?" Martha was expecting to hear romance novels, maybe poems, maybe thrillers.
"Criminology."
"No, I meant outside of the Academy."
"Yes. Outside. I've always been into criminology and behavior analysis. I also like chemistry, which made me the weirdo in all of my schools."
"How many have you changed?"
"More than I can count."
For someone who walked in, declaring her negative feelings for Martha's profession, she sure was quite bubbly. The conversation was quick-paced and smooth so far.
"Tell me about your academic life. Which subjects did you like?"
"I liked chemistry and biology. I've always loved languages, too, but that was a given."
"How so?"
"Just…so." Angie shrugged. That was a question she could not answer, without mentioning her childhood and the reasons for her multi-lingual upbringing. So, she did not answer at all.
"I liked sports, too. But not like the traditional stuff. Whenever I could, I'd get in the cheer squad and I also did gymnastics and dance at school. At some point in my life I was fortunate enough to be able to attend an actual dance academy and I am very grateful for it." She was now smiling wide. Apparently, speaking about those things made her feel good.
"I did ice skating when I was young." Martha knew that if she wanted Angie to give her something, she had to give something back. She was establishing a relationship with someone who did not want to have one with her. That was challenging.
"Oh, this is such a graceful sport! I've tried it out, but it was very expensive and I wasn't good enough to get a scholarship, so I stuck with gymnastics for a while."
"Gymnastics is expensive, too."
"Yeah, but I knew the owners of the place and they'd let me clean the gym twice a week, so I was allowed to attend the classes for free. It was cool, I had fun. I'd play music and pretend like I was on a stage. I'd sing and dance with the mop. Yeah, I'm a weirdo, like I said."
"I don't find you weird."
"How so?"
"Well, you seem like a very well educated young lady, with good manners and you are very outspoken. What is weird about that?"
"My middle school final paper was on serial killers…" Angie started her long list of reasons why she was weird. "I sit in the most awkward positions and I like to climb trees." She chuckled. When she had been younger, she'd climb just about anything. Heights did not scare her at all. They thrilled her.
"I'm twenty-three years old and I still wear a bow in my hair, religiously. I sing in public and I'm the first one to start dancing, no matter where I am. I once sang Happy Birthday to a stranger on the tube after I heard them say on the phone that it was his birthday."
"The tube?"
"Sorry. The subway."
"Ooh , that tube." Martha smiled. "So, you've lived in England?"
"For a little bit. Yeah."
"Did you like it?"
"Well, I mean, I literally had to move there. I guess I liked it. Food was weird and I didn't make many friends. The people I knew wanted to go out and drink all the time and I just didn't fit in with them."
"So, what did you do instead?"
"I stayed home and I helped my-…" Angie cut herself off. She bit her bottom lip, preventing herself from saying the word she was about to say. "The person I was living with, at the time, I helped them with…stuff."
"Stuff?"
"Yeah, work stuff. I mean, I was working as well."
"So, you did nothing for fun?"
"I mean, we'd sometimes go to the theater…" Angie's eyes drifted off to the wall as she started remembering things. "We also lived near an ice-cream shop and I loved going there after work. We went mini golfing once, but we both sucked at it. We liked going out for walks and exploring different neighborhoods. We'd buy things from the small food shops we found and we'd go home and cook with the ingredients. We always made a mess in the kitchen, but the food was amazing. When we went out, we sometimes coordinated. Like, we'd both have something red on our clothes or we'd both have the same bracelet."
Martha was giving herself a mental pat on the shoulder. She had cracked this young girl so quickly. Angie was telling her so much about herself and her character, just by saying those random things, and she didn't even know it.
"Sounds like you did so many things..." Martha spoke, giving Angie a moment to breathe. "What was your favorite?"
"When we were home."
"Doing what?"
"Anything. It didn't really matter."
"Why?"
"Because it was ho-home." Angie's voice cracked a little and she masked it up gracefully by pretending to cough.
That one little confession made Martha look at her differently. She was kind of like a profiler – she had been building a profile of Angie since she saw her walk through the door. She would later on have to fill in her patient's sheet and she'd want to put accurate information and assumptions about the girl.
"Was that the only place that felt like a home to you?"
"No…" Angie said quietly. "Other places have felt like home, too."
"In England?"
"And not only."
"So, you have traveled quite a lot, huh?"
"Yeah. I am very grateful for that."
"To whom?"
"Uhm. People…"
"Anyone specific?"
"Not really. No."
"Well, tell me, Angela, thinking of those places that felt like home…was there anything at all that connected them? Maybe a familiar smell? Maybe the view from the windows?"
Angie bit her bottom lip again, slowly catching on to Martha's games. Damn, she was good.
"Uh-huh." She said weakly.
"What was it?" Martha's voice was so even and calm while she spoke. She did not whisper and she did not raise her voice, no matter what she said. Her questions almost sounded like affirmations, that was how even her voice was.
"It's not a what." Angie played with her thumb, soon directing her attention to the ring on her finger, twisting it around mercilessly.
"It's a who." She finally admitted.
Like Martha hadn't figured it out already.
"And where is that person now? Are they still in your life?"
"Well, after a couple of failed attempts, they are finally dead to me, so…" Angie shrugged, taking a bit more immature route when replying to that specific question.
"So, where is your home now?"
"I dunno…" Angie shrugged again. Ever since Martha had managed to make her talk about home, Angie had done a lot of shrugging, indicating her genuine confusion.
"If you had to imagine your perfect home, where would it be?"
"Where that person is!" Angie did not even blink before she replied. It was honest, rough and it came from the heart. If she had a second to think about it, she would have convinced herself not to say it out loud. But the words just slipped out.
"Is there any way you could fix things with them?"
"Yeah. They've been reaching out."
"Good. That's a good sign." Martha spoke, but then saw the way Angie shook her head, as if she was saying she wanted none of it. "Why not? Don't you want things to go back to normal again? You'd have a home again."
"Things have never been normal. That's kind of the point…" This time she sighed. "They understand me. They know me so well. They've never judged me."
"Sounds like a wonderful person to have by your side."
"No, it's the worst. Trust me."
"How so?" Martha was analyzing every blink of Angie's eyes as they spoke. At first, speaking of sports and school, Angie had been cheerful and vibrant. And then, speaking of home, the light in her just turned off, until there was nothing but darkness and sadness in her eyes. It was quite a quick change.
"Because they were the best person in my life. And then they dumped me, like I was trash. And I know you're going to say that they are reaching out now, but I've been burned twice. I ain't going to be burned again."
Martha gulped, wondering how hard a situation like this would be, on a twenty-three year old girl. Yes, she was legally considered an adult now, but she was at a tender age, where she needed a home and stability in her life.
"I hated math." Angie changed topic, because if she did not, she'd freak out and she might say something she'd later regret.
"But I thought you were good at chemistry. Shouldn't you be good at math, too?" Martha allowed her the change of topic. Ange had already shared more than enough personal information.
"Everyone tells me that. I don't know, I just sucked at math. In chemistry, you have the elements and the way they combine. Yes, there are also numbers, but those are secondary, to the elements. And I liked the idea of new things forming when two or more elements interact. I liked the chem labs at three of my schools. Sometimes my teachers would let me do some experiment with them and it was so cool!" As if with the flip of a switch, Angie was now back to her cheerful self. It was most definitely not normal to jump moods this quickly. This preoccupied Martha a little bit.
"You mentioned you wrote about serial killers in middle school. How did that interest spike in you? You must have been, what, maybe twelve? Thirteen?"
"It's just a field I've always wanted to understand. It's human nature – we are all curious about the things around us."
Martha did not speak, but she caught on the slip. Around us? What middle school kid had serial killers around them?
"If you had to choose between green and red, which one would you choose?"
"Red. Definitely. I love red. I look great in red." Angie chuckled. She would never fail to make a reference to clothing or make-up. She was girlier than she'd like to admit, but without being narcissistic.
Martha pursed her lips. Red was a beautiful color. But it was also the color connected to blood, violence, the color of everything prohibited. And Angie did not hesitate about her choice.
"Why do you want to be an FBI Agent?" Martha asked the question that had been on her mind since she saw Angie. She did not have any prejudice towards anyone, but Angie did not seem like the typical Trainee.
"Because I want to make sure less families would suffer loss."
It was the wording of that statement that would stay with Martha for the next few days. Anyone would have simply said they'd want to help fight crime. Angie had specifically mentioned families.
"Alright, it was nice to talk to you, but I'm afraid our time is up." Martha informed her after checking the time.
"So soon?" Angie was almost upset about it. Where did time fly?
"I know that you're not a fan of therapy, but it would be a pleasure for me if you came back."
"Mhh, it's not as bad as I thought."
Martha laughed.
"Thank you for being so nice and understanding, Dr. Allen. It was really easy to talk to you. I hope you have a beautiful day." Angie said politely, once again pointing at a good education and a certain level of respect that most people her age were lacking of.
"Thank you for giving me the chance to get to know you, young girl. Have a good day yourself." Martha stood up and walked Angie to the door.
Walking out of the office, Angie did two things. First, she sighed with relief, because therapy was not something she thought she'd enjoy. And second, she walked over to the counter and asked for the first available hour that Martha had on her schedule.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
"rmpcmfan" Emily is beyond confused, but also: disappointed in herself. We'll see if she'll want to try someone new or she'll do her best to sneak back into Martha's office, since this woman knows a LOT about Emily's dirty little secrets, from many years ago. I can promise you, if Emily goes back to Martha, it won't be the NORMAL way lol. Emily is known for pulling weird stunts *wink*. Also, this pressing issue (the questions) is what I meant earlier, when I said Emily has a lot to handle before she'd jump into dating. Guess I did good to my promise to fix things? :P Oh, oopsie, there might be one more thing hehehe, just because I'm a tease!
"sweetkid45" The case specifics may resurface, you will learn why they lost their victim after saving her and why Emily blames herself. For now, Emily is only just starting to open up and still in denial, so she's terrified of saying it out loud. JJ has been very focused on work and trying to keep an eye on Emily, after THAT case, so she might have missed out Henry's signs of trouble. This story arc isn't huge, it will be mentioned briefly and dealt with. Main focus is on the bond between Emily and JJ (I'm a sucker for two strong females who back each other up, instead of backSTAB each other! Also Emily-Clara friendship!) And hehe buckle up because this crazy Mexican bean ride is pretty much a constant lol! That's the thing with fragmented narrative...it makes me think of all the different scenes we see in one episode, if a story was an episode of a show! Thankfully FanFiction has the DIVIDER option, that line that divides different scenes! I always put it to indicate a change. Do you see it? I know it's barely visible on a white-screen-black-letters, but I read on black-screen-white-letters and it is super visible like this. Just a little tip, in case it gets blurred out while reading quickly. I fail to see it on white screen when I read, too! :) Hope it helps, even the tiniest bit :)!
