OOM: Stables for Dr. Hannibal Lecter -- Kate's first session

[ikissdhimbck]

It's late afternoon on a Saturday, and all of Kate's chores have been squared away. Most of the hands are here in the mornings, leaving the afternoons a little less busy, and the evenings even more so. Kate knows today is the day Dr. Lecter will be coming by, and so she's seen to it they'll have a modicum of privacy.

She's left the desk clean and organized, and taken the chair out to the back paddocks. The ones in the far back are being used right now, so she sets the chair near the railing edging the forest near the stables' back exit. The horses not in their stalls are all out front, leaving things pretty empty out here.

Once that's settled, she waits by the side entrance for the good doctor.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

The doctor comes strolling up, wearing a dark shirt and no tie, informal but concentrated. He carries a notebook, a pen, a bottle of water, and two glasses.

"Good afternoon, Miss Barlow," he says.

[ikissdhimbck]

"Good afternoon."

She smiles, and reaches out to help him.

"Can I take somma that for you? Ah, I've got a spot picked out for us out back."

[cook_the_rude]

"I have this," he says, "thank you nevertheless. Do lead the way to where you'd like us to sit."

[ikissdhimbck]

"If you insist."

She smiles and nods, leading him through the stables on the way to the back. He'll get an eyeful of the stock they keep here, mostly horses but some unusual animals as well. It's clean and orderly inside — they run a tight ship, and the animals all look healthy and loved.

At the back of the building are the feed and tack rooms, and between them a door large enough to lead the animals through. Out that way are the various riding paths to the paddocks and corrals. She takes him through the first open gate to where the chair was left, and props herself up on the fence.

It's a lovely day. The grass is low and green, some clover and other wildflowers springing up where the horses haven't grazed recently. The chair is simple and wooden, but it should be comfortable enough.

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter turns the chair so it faces her, and sits, putting down the bottle and the glasses in the long grass, and the notebook in his lap.

He looks up at her.

"You feel more comfortable on the fence, rather than in a chair?"

[ikissdhimbck]

She smiles wanly.

"I'm used t'hearin' advice while I'm propped on a fence post; s'how I spent most of my young life. So yes, I reckon it is. Might feel like I'm on the spot if y'sit me down in a chair."

And they only have the one chair out here, though she could have scraped up a stool.

[cook_the_rude]

"Before we begin: may I call you Kate?" Dr. Lecter says. "I make it a habit to call my patients by their first names. I can call you Miss Barlow again outside of this, naturally."

[ikissdhimbck]

"No, that's fine. Lots'a folks call me by all different names."

She settles down, clasping her hands in her lap.

[cook_the_rude]

"Guppy has given me an idea," Dr. Lecter begins, "but I'd like to hear in your own words what it is that's driving you to find help."

[ikissdhimbck]

"All right."

She takes a deep breath.

"Well, I — I've been havin' some trouble sleepin'. For a while. It comes an' goes, but it's gotten worse the last couple'a months. I'm a gunfighter, an' I dream 'bout—"

She looks at her knees.

"—'bout the lives I took. An' the things I've seen. An' the–the blood on my hands."

[cook_the_rude]

"Things you have seen?" Dr Lecter says. "Tell me about them."

[ikissdhimbck]

"All of them?"

Her mouth twists.

"Well, the worst was here, two winters ago. Are y'familiar with Revelations? It was like Armageddon. The sky turned red, an' the Window started crackin', an' things — everythin' went wrong. There were terrors I couldn't begin t'recount, an' then—"

She shakes her head slowly, eyebrows arched.

"This hole opened up in the sky, an' everythin' started fallin' away. Everythin', me — an' then, jus' like that, everythin' sorta jumped. Or hopped, or — skipped? An' it was all over."

[cook_the_rude]

"I heard about this," Dr. Lecter says. "What did it make you feel?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"Terrified."

She lets out a mirthless bark of laughter.

"An' then — angry. After it was all over, I jus' got so angry, but I bottled it all up inside. I wanted t'know why it happened, an' everybody else jus' — moved on."

[cook_the_rude]

"So, there were no answers for you, and no explanations?" Dr. Lecter says. "And you still have to keep it inside?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"None. Nobody knows why it happened, or why it all suddenly went away. It doesn't seem right, still bein' here. Like I was starin' into — the end, but I jus' came back."

Maybe she wasn't supposed to. How does a body pick up and move on after a thing like that?

She looks at her hands.

"I've lost my temper a couple'a times. An' sometimes I start cryin', an' I don't know why. I can't stop. An' the harder I try t'push things down, the more my chest aches, an' I can't breathe."

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter has been listening, and nodding, through this.

"Are there times when that is more likely to happen, or does it seem fully random?" he asks.

[ikissdhimbck]

She purses her lips.

"Well, at night, of course. Ah, sometimes somebody'll say somethin' that makes me think 'bout things. I reckon the rest of the time it's outta the blue."

[cook_the_rude]

"Give me an example of something somebody said to set it off," Dr. Lecter says. "And Kate: don't worry it might happen because you think about it now, I'm he and I've got you, if that happens."

[ikissdhimbck]

Her brow furrows with worry, but she nods.

It takes a moment to steel herself for opening up.

"I went to another friend's world. They told me 'bout a disaster they'd seen there. Aeroplanes had been flown into a pair'a buildin's. A lotta people died, an' they — my friend — were there t'put out the fires an' t'help, but it was — scarrin'. The way he described it reminded me of somma the things that'd happened here. I was fine one minute, an' the next the tears were burstin' from my eyes. I — I reckon the lines jus' started t'blur."

She shakes her head, cleaning the dirt from under her nails just to give her hands something to do. Her fingers are trembling ever so slightly.

[cook_the_rude]

"Nine eleven," Dr. Lecter says. "It meant for many the end of the world as they knew it, so understandably a trigger. How are you feeling now, Kate?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"At this moment?"

She lifts her eyes to look at him, and her gaze is a little more distant than it had been before.

"Ah. Nervous? A li'l uneasy. An' — kinda sick t'my stomach, like I've got butterflies flappin' around."

It ain't easy being candid, when everything about the way she carries herself is poised to hide the way she feels inside.

"What is a 'trigger' exactly?"

[cook_the_rude]

"A trigger is a memory or stimulus that reminds you of your bad experience and makes you re-experience it, resulting in these anxiety attacks," Dr. Lecter explains. "Is your current feeling like one of those?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"Oh."

That makes sense, but — 

"No, not quite. I still feel, ah  —  mostly in control."

[cook_the_rude]

"Do you find you avoid certain situations or people to keep triggers and panic attacks from happening?" Dr. Lecter asks.