ifeelwounded (ifeelwounded) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-11-24 01:28:00 |
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Alana was still trying to cope with everything that was happening, but luckily she had many years of training for dealing with the worst of circumstances. It wasn't as if one day a psychiatrist could go 'I think I'll work for the FBI!' There was a certain background they looked for with a more serious range of study, and plenty of tests and questions she needed to go through. It prepared her to be very self-aware, and in this situation, it kept her calm. Yes, this was crazy in many ways, but it was happening and she had to accept that. After speaking with Hannibal and Will, she managed to re-align herself. The next step was to talk with Abigail. She told Abigail she would keep her distance, but in many ways Alana preferred that until she could get a grip on herself. She remembered finding out in the most grisly way possible that Will went too far, and he took Abigail with him. They had plenty of warning signs. Alana should know better. And she felt as if Abigail's death - and Will's insanity - firmly fell on her shoulders. Jack's too. So to find Abigail alive and well here, it was an adjustment. She was ready to face her without giving away all of the grief. If this was a new life for Abigail, she deserved a real one, unburdened by what happened in their timeline. Or at least that was the intention. Alana couldn't be sure she would keep lying to the girl in person. But she did show up at the apartment she helped Abigail settle down in. Alana was uncharacteristically dressed down. She ordinarily preferred formal to casual formal clothing, but their situation was no longer ordinary. For now she was in jeans and a light jacket over a nice blouse, and she had a pizza in hand with a big bottle of coke. She knocked on the door and hoped Abigail would be there and willing to talk. One would think that a nearly 20 year old girl would have better things to do at night than laze around the house and watch television, but that wasn't true for Abigail Hobbs. Yeah, she could go out, yeah, she could pretend that everything was just fine, but when it came down to it, she was an orphaned girl who hadn't quite finished growing up. So when the knock came on the door, Abigail was curled up on the second-hand couch with a pint of Ben & Jerry's and some movie she had found on television. She froze at the sound of the knock, not expecting anyone to come over, her spoon halfway to her mouth. Shoving the utensil back into the carton, she set it on the floor at her feet and padded to the door, rising up on tiptoes to peer through the peephole, her brows furrowing down slightly at the sight of Dr. Bloom. For a moment, she considered feigning that she wasn't there and just going back to her movie, but instead she tugged the door open and stepped back, giving the good doctor a long look. "I didn't order any pizza," she said, folding her arms over her chest in a move that was characteristically defensive. "And I don't think we had an appointment. Or am I forgetting something?" It was possible, she supposed, but with everything else going on, the way her and Dr. Lecter seemed to be hiding something from her, Abigail guessed it had something to do with that. Alana knew there was a possibility Abigail could be out, or that she wasn't on this side of the door at that moment. She had a ready made note just in case to put on the door to say hello. It was polite to call ahead, but she also knew Abigail could ignore her or flat out refuse. It was a risk to show up, and if the door was slammed in her face she'd understand. Usually Alana had better boundaries, she actually had pride in her boundary making, but this was no ordinary situation. She was thrown off by everything about this world and making terrible decisions left and right. At some point she might have to retire and call her MD unhelpful. "I don't think we need to have appointments anymore, unless that's what you want." Alana would always provide advice and help to Abigail, but she knew the girl needed to stand on her own two feet too. She was manipulated enough in her life, independence was important. "Otherwise I'm hoping you'll help me with the pizza, because if I eat it on my own, I'll probably hate myself later." She was just so glad to see her. To see her alive. She figured later on she might have to go cry for a good twenty minutes about Abigail being alive, and for now she'd have to keep it together. "And I wanted to see how you were." Abigail didn't say anything for a long while, glancing towards the pizza and then back up to the doctor's face, her head tilted slightly to the side in thought. There were things that weren't being said, she was intelligent enough to know that, but if Dr. Bloom wanted to play that game, then she could do it too. "Yeah, come on in," she finally responded, tugging the door further open as she stepped back, giving room for her to come in before she closed it firmly behind her, twisting the lock securely. "I just wasn't expecting you, that's all," Abigail said a moment later, pressing away from the door to move towards the couch, putting the lid back on the pint of ice cream after sticking the spoon in her mouth. "And I'm okay. Like I told you on the journals. Just fine." Sucking thoughtfully on the spoon, she looked back towards Alana, wondering how much she knew, how much she didn't know. Her brows knit down slightly before she moved towards the small kitchen, just the bare necessities though Abigail didn't really require more than that. "It's everyone else who's acting weird. Not me." Alana came inside when she was invited, relieved, and took a cursory look around. Bare basics. She'd hopefully personalize it a little more as she went on. Personal touches to an apartment were important, the ones lived in the longest had stories everywhere. Alana was trained to read the room and the people around her, by their expressions or body language. It was impossible to shut off, most of the time. Not unlike Will and his ability, although his was inborn, and Alana's was trained. She always had the knack for it. She saw things other people didn't. Maybe the reason she connected to Abigail was she saw a kin spirt; Abigail was very perceptive herself. "You're doing better than I am, I guess. This door situation has me off guard." Alana was being honest, although there was a certain calculation to it, revealing some of her own weakness in order to bond. But it was sincere. Ever since she walked through the door, she felt like the rug was pulled right from under her feet. And that there was no way for her to go backward, no matter what she tried. For someone used to controlling the world around her and herself, it was a difficult experience. "Everything just goes on like normal around us here." But it wasn't normal. She smiled at Abigail and set the pizza down in the small kitchen. "Do you ever talk to the other person? The one in your head." The ice cream was put away and she grabbed a couple plates, thrift store finds, from the cabinets to set down beside the pizza on the counter. A couple of napkins joined them moments later and she leaned back against her sink, arms folded over her chest. It was a closed off gesture, she knew that, but she wasn't feeling particularly open to people lately. Will seemed to be on the same page as her, and even though she wanted to trust Dr. Lecter and Alana, something was going on. Something they weren't telling her. And Abigail had had quite enough of people keeping secrets from her. "A little bit," she answered after a moment, glancing down at the tiled floor, kicking at it with the tips of her toes. "She doesn't want me talking about her, though. What about you? Do you talk to yours?" It was defensive posturing, but Alana knew she had every right to it. Abigail was lied to for her entire life, in the most horrifying way someone could imagine, and it was difficult for her to trust. She really didn't want to lie to Abigail. Lies of omission were still lies, she knew that. But she looked around the apartment and thought about her watching TV and eating ice cream and not thinking about the fate that awaited her. Abigail had enough trauma. Alana was going to fix Will and then none of it would matter. "I do, sometimes. We get along. I heard that's not true for everyone, so I'm thankful." Alana got snapped at a few times by Anna because she was a psychiatrist, and had trouble keeping her opinion to herself. At least when it came to a shared mind. She could be very calm and non-judgmental to her patients, but her mind was always working and thinking through what they were saying. Anna heard all of that, so they clashed. "I still am surprised with how normal this world seems. If I didn't know better, I'd call it real." "Isn't it real, though? I mean, if it's real to us, then why question it?" Abigail gave the doctor a look, one shoulder shrugging up towards her ear. "It's like, why question what we have going. If it feels real, then just pretend it is real. Otherwise, people are just going to get upset about it when they don't need to be." Or at least that was how she looked at it. No clue if that was the right way, though. She stopped talking then as she opened up the pizza carton and pulled out a slice to set on one of the plates. It and the soda were grabbed and she inclined her head towards the box. "Grab some. I eat in the living room. Haven't gotten a table yet, and don't think I will." What was the point of tables? She didn't have a family to sit around one at, and the empty places would just remind her of everything that she had lost. Her brow furrowed at that, sinking down to sit with a sigh, the plate in her lap. "That's probably a good way to look at it. Or at least less of a headache than the way I do." Alana analyzed everything about her life, and now she analyzed the world on a new level. It was exhausting. So many things she had to question now. It meant Abigail was alive, and it made a difference, for now. But she was not sure how comfortable she was with living in a semi-realistic world that wasn't her own. Maybe this was a strange purgatory where she could right the wrongs she missed. Maybe she went insane. Alana followed her instructions and smiled, going into the living room with her with the pizza. She saw the way she seemed to just fall into her seat, and she came up with a few reasons why. Instead she gently tried to prod them in a better direction. "Redecorating is usually the last thing I do. I think I still have two boxes at my house I never unpacked from the last one." Mostly all books. One of these days she'd look in there and be pleased to find an old favorite. "So, what have you been doing?" It had been a long time since Abigail had had anything approaching normalcy, and maybe for a little while she could pretend she was exactly that. The pizza was warm in her lap, and Alana wasn't her family, but it was something. "I keep meaning to put something on the walls, but…" She trailed off with a shrug and prodded at her pizza, glancing up at Alana at the question of what she had been doing lately. She didn't say anything for a moment, pulling off a pepperoni and nibbling it off her fingers. Normalcy, right? So she sat back and considered Alana for a moment, and then she tried to talk. Like a normal person. |