Dоcтоя Slêêp (doctoring) wrote in goagainthread, @ 2020-07-08 16:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread: complete, doctor sleep: dan torrance, she-ra: catra |
Who: Dan & Catra
What: Newly Adopted Disaster Child shows up for some advice
When: Today?
Where: Somnum, in LA
Rating/Warnings: Nah
Status: Complete
The last couple days had actually been - well, idyllic? Catra would ever use that kind of flowery word lightly, but Adora’s sudden decision to uproot everything and come to her was working out astonishingly well despite the obvious lack of planning behind it. It surprised her how easy they dissolved into some kind of familiar routine - a honeymoon phase, she’d call it. A blissful, fragile bubble that could easily be popped because there were things left unsaid, final decisions to be made but for once she swelled with hope; that they could work through this, and she’d have Adora back in every way she wanted and for once things could actually be okay. Catra was good. Until she went to Seattle and, suddenly, she wasn’t. Home wasn’t her next destination. Sunny Los Angeles was, humidity’s lack of presence a welcomed change, and Catra found herself typing and deleting and then re-typing several times before she finally decided to press send. are you at your office??? was what she had forward to Dan, teeth nibbling so hard at her bottom lip she should have made herself bleed. Her throat felt tight, her chest felt overwhelmed with some kind of feeling and this wasn’t a panic attack, was it? No, it couldn’t be, she wasn’t that much of a puss. i’m outside Now she wondered why she was even bothering? Ugh. Catra fidgetted, and she moved her legs like she was going to dash and disappear because she half-regretted sending out those messages - but she ultimately forced herself to stay put, feet cementing into the ground by sheer will. Best case scenario, he wasn’t around. Worst case scenario, she’d word-vomit to his face. And maybe actually vomit from the nerves. Dan, was in fact, in his office. He was in between sessions, working on notes and treatment plans, sitting at his desk when he got the text. It seemed - odd. Not in a bad way, but he figured that Catra wasn’t the type to show up wanting to talk just for the hell of it which meant something happened. Probably something...not pleasant? He just had this feeling. Yeah, I’m here. Be out in a second. The sunshine was ever-present in LA, and though residents didn’t have to worry about winter storms, you’d still see thin-blooded folks wrapped up in down jackets and the like when the frostier seasons hit. Dan wouldn’t consider himself particularly thin-blooded but he hated the cold anyway - always felt the cold, like ice was permanently lodged in his veins. Luckily he didn’t have to worry about that now - summer was for kombucha, vegan alternatives to ice cream, surfing and pedal boats and eating at least one meal outside. He’d enjoy it while it lasted. He headed out, wearing a casual button-down shirt and jeans - in the summer, he sported a lot of lighter attire, since there was no need to go full on suit and tie. “Hey,” he greeted, gravelly and grinding marble, but he looked pleased to see her. “Come on inside - I’ll get you some water.” She looked like she was about to pass out, anyway, so the hydration should help. Oh, fuck. He was here. Catra missed the text - probably too busy having that internal struggle. “Hey,” was her greet right back, an added hoarseness to her voice. Water sounded - wow, did she need water? Suddenly she felt like she needed water. She hustled into his office, quick, and realized that if she looked like how she was feeling then she really ought to get her shit together. “Sorry,” Catra swallowed that dreaded knot in her throat. The grip on her purse strap was so tight her knuckles almost paled. “I know this is random and for whatever reason hauling us to see you felt like a good idea, so.” Knee-jerk reaction was to hit up Adora, though she doubted she knew how to even explain to her what the hell she just experienced. Coming to Dan first seemed wiser. A little perspective would do her some good before she blurted something out and scared her best-friend-slash-ex-girlfriend away with nonsense. Like, hey by the way I remembered us being raised as child soldiers in some war and our mother figure is an evil bitch sorceress? Made total sense, except not. She spun to face him and breathed in. “Do you know what’s up with that memory center? In Seattle?” There was a mini-fridge in Dan’s office, just a place to keep cold drinks besides the bigger fridge in the breakroom (where he and the receptionists usually stashed their meals - he worked weird hours, and thus sometimes it was lunch, sometimes it was dinner), so he pulled two bottled waters free and handed one to Catra. “It’s okay,” he assured. “I gave you my card for a reason.” Yes, he wanted her to come to him if something was wrong, if she thought he could help. Whether it was showing up at his office randomly or needing a couch to crash on for a night or two - the point was, he didn’t think Catra had anyone looking out for her, like he told Richie. So, Dan would change that. He unscrewed the cap on the bottle, gesturing to all the seating he had available - a comfy sofa, some matching comfy chairs. For him, he chose a chair, settling, getting himself hydrated. Man, it really was a hot one out there. “Seattle?” Dan repeated. “I don’t know who’s behind it all - no one does. But the way we’re viewing these memories, it’s like something is giving us insight into a past life we’ve lived but now can’t recall for some reason. We’ll get it all back, it will just take time.” Or at least, that was what he thought. “Did you go? And see something?” The top of hers was twisted off in a rush and she performed an unladylike chug - boy, she actually did need that. “I went,” Catra confirmed, a little less jittery but still couldn’t bring herself to wind down and sit. At this explanation, though, she looked kinda taken back. Like, narrowed here different colored eyes in a way that was screaming what the fuck but, honestly, the more she simmered on the thought the more it made sense. Catra wanted to break something. Or - hell, sink her nails into something. Turns out that once upon a life she had claws due to being a cat girl (which earned another what the fuck) so she supposed the urge finally made sense. “Also saw stuff,” she tacked on, wiping her mouth dry from the gulp of water she practically inhaled. “Do you know someone that’s, uh - I guess part of your so-called ‘past life’?” Adora had always been one of the biggest parts of her life. Go figure that it would also hold true in whatever last one she had, too. “I don’t know anyone - no one who’s alive, anyway,” Dan amended. “I saw my mother. And my father. But I was just a kid, in those memories.” The Overlook Hotel was surely crawling with ghosts - even just walking through the halls and all through the corridors with its garish designs, gold ballrooms and creepy elevators spiraling staircases, felt like being pelted with ice cubes. Something bad happened there. Maybe multiple something’s. Finding out was going to be put off until - well, for awhile. He took another sip of water, his attention on Catra - he figured she’d sit when she was a little less jittery. Right now her nerves were jumping, beans in a can, he could feel it. “Do you know someone?” he asked. Catra had seen an entire childhood unravel, the earliest memories involving her apparent need for harsh discipline for being rowdy, and feral. Only those methods involved this kind of odd, electrifying magic and shadowy tendrils, and the often death threats at like, six years old and onward. Adora tried playing protector (as usual) but could only do so much. It was the same song and dance, always. Adora, the favorite; Catra, the insolent shit that should have been dumped out in the streets. She was used to it. Should be, anyay. There were always these lingering vestiges of resentment she couldn’t shake, though - a small dose of poison in their relationship. The grip on the purse’s strap eased. Now, she could sit. “I do.” A frown. “This, uh, friend.” Catra squirmed. “She’s living with me right now. We grew up together, same shitty foster home and all that. What I saw was...weirdly similar, but - we were being raised as soldiers? For a war?” A war involving princesses, and it sounded so dumb but the only defintion of a princess they had was ‘evil enemy with magic’ and not some flowery Disney image. Horde children were essentially brainwashed. She’d been something of an outcast among the cadets, and having been so isolated - well, she observed more than most. And she knew they were being used. Manipulated, lied to. All she could do was play the game for her and Adora’s sake. “Should I...say something?” Or forget it happened and get drunk about it, that was cool too. “So you didn’t have an easy childhood either,” Dan rumbled thoughtfully, quiet in his observation, though it sounded like road grit coated his throat. Just the natural way of things - he drank more water to get his thoughts together. “Well - “ He definitely wasn’t going to suggest that Catra get drunk about it. He’d been down that road, and it led to hangovers that felt like an ice pick to the brain and a general feeling of shit as well as looking like shit. No, for some reason, he wanted better for her. Not just to go to ol’ reliable when it came to problems. Lots of unhealthy coping mechanisms going on around here, but he saw it a lot in his line of work. “I think it’s one of those things - she would have to see for herself. Sure, you could warn her, but - “ He shrugged. “Until she gets the email it’s kind of difficult to explain. Though if she’s on the same forum everyone else is, who gets those emails, she’ll see people talking about it. If she brings it up, maybe offer to go with her when she does get an email? Or just offer regardless. The support is important.” No easy childhood for Catra, ever, but she was over it (she was not). A double-whammy of being generally unwanted and traumatized wasn’t going to fuck with her too bad. Adora was always this soothing balm to all that, her one thing to latch onto - she had her here, she had her there. It’d be fine. (Hopefully.) She listened to Dan, crossing her skinny-jeaned legs and squeezing the bottled water enough to have it crinkle noisily under the pressure. True, yeah - Adora would have no idea what the hell was going on. Part of her wanted to protect her from this bizarre mindfuck. The other part wanted to prepare her, in case. “I guess,” she conceded, mulling it over. “So we’re just - going to see a whole life? Dude, someone on the forum got a fucking car. I feel really jipped right now.” Literally the only reason she opted to go was for the free stuff potential, not to get a front row view of another disastrous life as a cat girl. She was the thing weird Japanese cartoon pornos were made of. Dan chuckled a little. “I haven’t gotten anything either,” he sighed. “I’m just a kid in a probably-haunted hotel right now. But it’s difficult for my old man to find work, we can’t afford much, so it’s supposed to be a good thing. A job that lasts for the winter season.” And it was also supposedly so Jack could get some writing done, since he’d been having trouble at home - must be all the booze, Dan thought bitterly. He knew his father wasn’t all bad - that he had light and dark to him just like anyone else, just like Dan himself too. It was simply hard to remember that, when he saw the parallels between this life and the last. But right, no fancy cars for him, was the point. “There’s a whole sect of - well, I don’t want to say science,” he corrected himself, fingers intertwining when he talked, “...but study? Of past lives and how they work. This is something like that.” He shifted gears a little then, because he was curious - though he supposed if Catra wanted to keep it to herself, she was welcome to. “So this girl you knew, and still know - she’s important to you?” “A probably haunted hotel?” Catra blinked. Alright, sounded creepy, and almost normal - like a life in this world and not some war ravaged, weird landscape that was wholly different. Were multiple universes an actual thing? Who knew, but it didn’t seem like a totally ludicrous concept considering their current predicament. Her nerves by now had settled. Another guzzle of water helped. That feeling in her chest had dissipated, for the most part, but sparked back up a bit when he broached Adora territory. “Yeah,” she grumbled in admittance. “It’s complicated.” But it also kind of wasn’t, was the thing? They weren’t awkward around one another, though there was a lot between them left unsaid. “Our foster parent hated me and loved her. We got close while growing up,” she said, not really sure why she was even telling him this. Dan kind of just had one of those faces? Like he’d listen really well and then give amazing hugs or something. “Reaaaal close. We had to sneak around behind her back a lot. We got caught, it blew up, Adora thought she was doing something noble when it was actually stupid. I got mad. I ghosted. I was of legal age, so.” It was a simplified summarization of events but, hey. It covered the major stuff. “We got in contact with each other and talked throughout this past year. Then she showed up on my doorstep last week and - here we are.” He supposed that reaaaal close meant they were in some kind of relationship, Catra and her friend. Ex-girlfriend? Current girlfriend? All of it definitely was confusing, so he could only imagine how she was feeling now. “Well, things are different now, right?” he guessed. “Maybe you can work them out. If you both decide that’s something you want. Either way, if she’s part of your past life - she can be a part of this one too. If you let her. You can be there for each other.” If it was just some silly thing, he doubted Catra would even be sitting in his office right now - no, clearly those feelings fell deep, and he thought it was kind of sweet, the way they both seemed to find their way back to each other no matter what. Perhaps it was meant to be. If you let her. That was key, wasn’t it. Catra had this amazing ability to hold grudges for what seemed like an eternity, but her wrath eased up after some time - at least in regards to Adora. She was up for working things out, she supposed. Opening her doors and home to the person that she fondly considered ‘big of heart, dumb of ass’ was a way of trying. She had missed her too, after all. A lot. “Yeah,” she sighed in agreement, rubbing her forehead. “You’re right, oh wise one.” Now that she had some clarity and things didn’t feel so hazy, she surveyed the office, actually taking in the entire therapist atmosphere in. It was...nice. She even bounced on the char she was in to test the comfy-ness. “Thanks. For seeing me. I’m not gonna try to make this a habit or anything, just -” Ughhh. Words. Her nose crinkled as she figured out which ones to select to form what she said next. “You’re nice. I genuinely don’t hate you.” Also known as: we’re friends. Well, Dan would definitely take I genuinely don’t hate you. That was sweet. It made him laugh a little, as Catra took in the wonder that was his office (it was pretty cozy, and designed that way on purpose - no one wanted to see a therapist who was a slob or only had cardboard boxes to sit on). “Doesn’t have to be a habit,” he agreed. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. But since you’re in town now, want to come by for dinner tonight before you head back to New Orleans? I can make us something.” He’d cook up a hearty meal and then send her on her way; it was also a fact that he’d feel like shit if he didn’t offer. Besides, it would be nice to have someone else over - he cooked for him and Richie sometimes, but then there were those nights where Richie was at the records store late, or Dan had late sessions so it didn’t always match up. “I can’t stay long, but -” Catra shrugged her shoulders. Why the hell not, right? That little extra cooling period wouldn’t hurt before she had to make her way back home to Adora. It was already established that she didn’t carry a feeling of disdain for his company. “Sure. I won’t say no to a free meal. Richie coming? I don’t hate him, either.” He was actually pretty fucking funny. Richie could definitely hang. “I’ll ask him,” Dan promised. That might be nice too - and Richie was sort of the best, but Dan was a little biased. Still, he’d think about what to make - and next time Catra was in town, he’d probably have a key for her too. That way she could just let herself in, if she wanted to crash on his actual sofa. Since he now knew that she didn’t hate him. Thought he was nice, even. What a gem. He glanced at the clock on the wall, making note of the time. His ‘planning hour’ (or the hour in between sessions when he caught up on notes) was almost up. “I better get back to work, but I’ll see you later?” he asked hopefully. “Text me if you have any allergies...or anything like that.” “Later,” she confirmed, standing up and tucking the half-empty bottle water into her bag. Catra could entertain herself - maybe stop by somewhere and get Adora… something. “I promise I won’t be rude and stand you up, old man.” All in jest, though. She flashed him a grin, sauntering over to the door and before she grabbed the doorknob to let herself out, she spared him a glance. “And I’m only allergic to shitty food, so don’t disappoint me.” That part, though, was not in jest. |