Progress
Characters: Adam and Cal Setting: Clinic, late morning
Adam got a message from Cal once he wound up back in his room which said that his result were in, but Cal wanted to talk in person about them. That was the definition of unsettling and for a moment he hesitated. He’d told Cal he’d think about talking to him, which he guessed this was going to be more of, but at least he was getting his results.
He wasn’t wearing his usual layers today, especially with it getting warmer, which meant he was in just his t-shirt. When he made his way into the clinic, his hands were tucked into his pockets, looking for Cal. “Hey Doc,” he greeted when he spotted the older man, looking around, not sure where Cal would want him. It wasn’t like exam table made sense.
Cal was doing his best to hide his aggravation with what was happening in the facility, but he knew he was starting to wear down. It was just maddening, to see the headgames being played by the administrators and know he couldn’t do anything about them. Between the “save two, lose one” exercise and the nominations for jobs? People were going to start scrutinizing each others’ places in the experiment, looking for rough edges or bickering over who could do a job best.
Still, he was trying, and it was easier when things were generally quiet down here, which left Cal with plenty of time to keep himself composed. And really, venting in his journal entry had helped, even if he worried that he might be showing too much emotion to the people running this place. If they were twisting the proverbial screws and he was showing that there was an effect? It’d only get worse. And right now, he couldn’t afford that.
So Adam’s arrival was definitely welcome in the sense that he at least had something else to focus on, even if it wasn’t for good reasons. “Adam,” Cal greeted with a grin and a nod, “How’re you feelin’? Everything been okay since last time?”
Adam shrugged one shoulder. “Alright, I suppose.” He looked at Cal for a long moment, biting his lip. “So...what did you find out?” He guessed there wasn’t a point in waiting, in beating around the bush. Maybe it was Kyle rubbing off on him, making him more anxious about not knowing what the result of his blood work was. He hadn’t thought of it much beforehand, but now that he was here? It was like an itch on the back of his neck.
There had never been much love in Cal’s mind for the doctor’s office cliche of having someone take a seat. Maybe if he was giving them news about a terminal illness or a lost loved one, sure, but otherwise? Cal didn’t like to give people time to tense up and anticipate; he knew how fast the mind could start forming worst-case news. “Your sweep came back positive,” he said evenly, though not unkindly.
“Chlamydia, which isn’t what you wanted to hear, I know, but it could be a lot worse,” Cal was quick to elaborate. “It’s easily treated, I took the liberty of prepping a shot for it. But before I do, I gotta ask as the health professional in here: have you been intimate with anyone in the facility?” He knew there’d been something with Becka at one point, and Cal was hoping Adam would say no, because really? Trying to tell Becka she had an STD would be like kicking a puppy. If not worse.
Adam’s mouth opened, trying to find and answer before shaking his head and running his hands through his hair with a wince. “Figures. Too much good news right?” He glanced up at Cal nodding a little. “That’s all just a shot?” he asked before shaking his head. “No on the intimate. Becka and I...” He stopped, fighting back that rush of emotion, taking a deep breath before pressing onward. “It didn’t get that far.”
“Just a shot,” Cal confirmed, “Modern medicine’s a hell of a thing. C’mon, grab a seat and rull your sleeve.” He nodded to the exam table, moving for the box of gloves next to the syringe Cal had already prepared and capped in anticipation of Adam’s arrival. “And I’d say this isn’t somethin’ to get yourself down over, either. Sure, it’s not a winnin’ lottery ticket, but it’s better news than it could’ve been,” he stressed gently. After what Adam had been through, though, Cal expected something close to this. There’d be emotional fallout attached to the exams, to his dealings with others, to his self-image...
Adam went where directed, sitting on the table and pulling at his sleeve. “Right, there’s a strong chance I could have gotten something that could have killed me,” he said, his voice darkening, eyes looking at the floor. So much swelled up in him, rage, fear, and distress, trying to bury him. “I didn’t want it to be real.”
The hints of darker feeling threaded his words unmistakeably, fixing Cal’s eyes on him as he snapped on a pair of gloves and grabbed both a syringe and an antiseptic swab. “I know,” he said first, “But thinkin’ like that wasn’t helpin’ either. Being about to redirect your thoughts from what happened made it easier in the daily stuff, sure, but compartmentalizing like that’s worse for you, Adam. And here and now, no this isn’t good news, and yeah it could’ve been worse? But more importantly, you’re at a point where there’s some willingness to look at how it’s affecting you. Even if it feels overwhelming, the bits we’ve talked about so far are progress.” He doubted that the younger convict would buy that easily, but from Cal’s prior work with inmates? It was remarkably true; even admitting to sexual assault, getting tested for STDs, or seeking treatment for mental and physical trauma were all milestones in recuperation.
“Progress into feeling like more of a waste of space,” Adam countered, hating the way it sounded. He let out a breath, trying to get his thoughts, his emotions under control. “It’s just...wasn’t it enough already. Didn’t they take enough? Now this?” he glanced towards Cal, but didn’t show his gaze long, not with what he was thinking. He didn’t even know who he could blame for this.
He wasn’t the only one who didn’t like how that sounded, though Cal knew better than to criticize Adam for it. Where he was at emotionally, coming at him with harsher words would turn things back even farther. “Adam, for an abuser in the prison system, the common mentality’s that there’s never ‘enough’,” Cal explained patiently. “For most of the subjects I interviewed, and according to the common diagnosis, it’s not something with clear terms or goals like that. It’s...” he trailed with a frown, sorting out his thoughts, “It’s like when you cut your hand on the mirror, because lashing out was something you had control over, and it was an outlet you chose. Abusers need that control too, they need to feel like they have a choice over something in their lives, and in prison? None of us really do. So they take a choice away from someone else, and that gives them the control they want.”
More than that, with the multiple assaults Adam had admitted to? It was a deeper case of it, a transferrence of control that empowered every man who took part. “Having that taken away from you isn’t right, but it’s also not the case here. Not any more. Those people aren’t here, they can’t control you against your will any more, and after this?” he said, raising the syringe, “You can start trying to heal what they did, however you need to. Whatever course it’s going to take, you’re not alone in it either.”
“So I got that because some fucks couldn’t get control in the rest of their lives? Lucky me.” Adam hated that, the way it made sense, but it didn’t make it better. He looked up towards the ceiling, then back to the syringe in Cal’s hand. He was quiet for a long moment. “Even though they’re not here...this feels like they are still here.” He pointed towards the needle. “I don’t know where to start to heal.”
Moving over with a slight glance that asked for clearance to do so, Cal gestured to see Adam’s arm, starting to swab the crook of his elbow lightly. “Behavioral psych theory says that, and I know it’s no comfort at all, this wasn’t about you to them,” Cal said as he worked, “Not in the sense that there was something beyond a sense that they could overpower you. But the way it worked is the idea that even if it’s not about you to them, it is about them to you. The situation you were in validated their need for control by tying up your suffering in their identities. More simply, you fixated on who they were, because who they were was your tormentors. And knowing that anyone gave them thought on a personal level was what they wanted, at the root.”
He doubted that any of this actually helped Adam, but it was good distraction as Cal cleaned his arm and lined up the syringe. And maybe, just maybe? Understanding the motivations behind what happened would help Adam to break free of it, to see how paltry the people who’d hurt him really were. “Past that, though... after this, they won’t be here any more, Adam. That’s where you start. Recognize that it’s a different place, and that this means it can be different for you, too. You can see a future here, if you let yourself. You can have people who just want to be your friend, not use you or hurt or control you.”
Adam listened and while no, it wasn’t helping, it did make some sort of sense. “I think they just wanted to break me,” he said shaking his head a little and trying not to watch Cal work on his arm. He’d had plenty of needle sticks before, even though the needles used on insulin syringes was much smaller than the one Cal had, he’d had bloodwork done plenty of times as well.
“I was already thinking of them as gone. Or...as gone as they could be. I haven’t met anyone here yet who seems to have that in mind, that sort of interest, but then this and...” He took a shaking breath. “Every time I think I can get past it, something else comes up. I panic over being touched or I find out I have a fucking STD.” He rubbed at his face, holding still as he could while Cal worked. Something else twinged at him, the idea of being controlled, but it wasn’t a memory of the rapes in prison. It was sitting in the interrogation room with his lawyer and having everything laid out in front of him. That had been the start, the moment he lost all control of his life.
“Part of the problem’s thinking that it’ll be that easy, Adam,” Cal corrected as he withdrew the needle and disposed of it. “I’m not saying you can’t get past it, but you need to be mindful of the fact that there’ll be setbacks, there’ll be triggers you can’t help, and there’ll be reminders like this that you can only deal with as they turn up. I worked with a guy in lockup pretty consistently for about seven months, we made some real progress in that time, but he had mental associations he just couldn’t shake,” he explained as he gauzed over the injection site.
“It really comes down to PTSD, in the end. It’s more common in victims of sexual assault than it is in combat-active soldiers overall, but it’s the easiest conceptual root of your problems,” he explained, “I can be here to talk with you plenty, help explore the causes and triggers for what’s digging at you, but I think as far as actually coping with some of it? Your best bets are either going to be medication or maybe talking with Brady. He’s come clean about his PTSD before, and he knows how to keep it in line overall. Even if they manifest differently in the two of you, the triggers and controls are going to be similar.” And maybe, just maybe, the former soldier could help Adam with the anger that Cal knew he had, because that? That was a symptom that Cal knew you couldn’t just talk your way through.
“Triggers I have to deal with for how long? Forever? That’s going to make me great to be around.” Adam let out a sigh as Cal finished with the shot, wincing a little at the feel of it. “I have enough mental associations with sex. I’m in jail for killing the last girl I slept with. I don’t need this too.” Maybe Jeffrey was right, maybe there just wasn’t a girl out there right for him. What about a guy? The thought was there before Adam could shove it away and he was blushing at his own thoughts. No, there probably wasn’t a good guy despite what Wren had said about him liking Kyle.
“You want me to talk to Brady? The giant guy with the tattoos? The one who choked Autumn and Mazie punched?” Adam looked shocked. “You want me to talk to him about this? I’d rather not.” That sounded like someone who would definitely laugh at him for being a pussy or something along those lines. Adam shook his head and let out a sigh. “I feel like I’m getting nowhere.”
“The one who lashed out because of his PTSD, and the triggers that come from bein’ touched unexpectedly,” Cal confirmed. “You did see his stuff on the journals about that, right?” If he hadn’t, Cal wasn’t above putting it in front of him for some attempt at perspective. “What I’m tryin’ to get you to see’s that this can happen to anyone, even the giant guy with the tattoos. Different causes, same results, and it’s no easier to figure it out or make it stop for him. It’s like the diabetes, it’s about observin’ it and knowin’ the dos and don’ts.” Peeling his gloves off, Cal stepped away from the exam table with a wave for Adam to hop down.
“You’ve gotta be able to do two things here, man: recognize the progress you made just by startin’ to talk about this? And commit to stickin’ with trying to break down the problems. It’s been two days since we talked, Adam, and not even two weeks here yet. What you’re hopin’ for can take a long time when it’s possible, you gotta be ready for that to be the case here.” Which drew a sigh from Cal, because he would’ve loved to make a faster difference just as much as Adam would’ve welcomed it. But healing didn’t work that way.
Adam made a frustrated noise then hopped down from the table, following after Cal. “Yeah I know. I read it.” Though it had been a while. He probably could go back and read it again. “I just think he’s going to have a hard time understanding that I got mine from...you know.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, then played with the back of a chair near Cal’s desk, obviously fidgeting. “I know. I just...I feel like less of a person sometimes. It’s hard to explain, but when I think about it, that’s what I feel like.” He rocked on his feet a little before looking up again. “I just don’t want to be like this.”
“And when you feel like you do, I get that it becomes everything,” Cal said in understanding at Adam’s simple plea, “But what you’re sayin’ is ‘like this’ isn’t the sum and total of you. I think we both know there’s people in here who see good things about you, both in spite of what’s happened and because of it, because of how you’re still goin’. You stepped up for folks I think you’d call friends, and I’d bet they got the same name for you. To me, that’s the most of a person any of us can feel like; when we can connect with another human being, engage with ‘em, support ‘em through hard times even when we know we can’t fix those hard times.”
He had a warm, encouraging smile for Adam with those words, nodding in affirmation of them as if that could make them more real somehow. “I can’t promise you that we’ll fix everything doin’ this, Adam, but I know that whatever we don’t manage to work at? You’re gonna have people who won’t leave you alone to it, if you can speak up when it hurts or shrinks the world down to just you and your pain. It’s why therapy groups are a thing, why rehab programs use sponsors, you know? We support each other, and we’re all better for it. So if you’ve got Kyle’s back? Let him get yours. Hell, it’s the core idea of community, and we all know how big the folks in charge have been ‘bout that.”
Adam let out a sigh and nodded. “I know. I know they’re there. Wren was the other night, before I talked to you...” He laughed at himself but it wasn’t a noise full of mirth. “Would you believe I’m better at helping them?” Pushing at edge of the chair again, he nodded slowly. “I know. I know any bit is a start, I just want it to be more than just that little bit you know?”
“I do,” Cal confirmed with another slight nod. “Sometimes that want feels so strong, like it oughta break down the time ahead of you and just get you where you wanna be, yeah? I call that four years of college, four of med school, an’ two of psych work,” he confided with a smirk. “But every day of it, no matter how drawn out it felt? I made myself look at everythin’ I had despite that want I was carrying, and I reminded myself that every one of those days was one more I got through. We’re always makin’ progress in our lives, Adam, even the days when it feels like we aren’t. Even if you can’t see it? I can, and in time if you stick with it, you will too.”
“What was why you became a doctor?” Adam asked, finding some of a smile. “I don’t know if the want for anything would have gotten me through med school. Or college.” He could have gone he guessed, but he started running with Jeffrey before it came up and then he hadn’t bothered. “Every day alive counts for something right?” he added before looking up at Cal. “So we should talk like this then...more often.”
Cal actually grinned at the question, thinking that he could see Adam’s point about how he helped others. He was a naturally warm guy, and Kyle or Becka both would’ve seen that quickly. “There were a lot of reasons, I guess, and a few times when I almost didn’t,” Cal answered, “Like I said in my poll, I did have an offer to play pro basketball. Any time I was at one of those points, though, I could look back at my life, see how it’s been good even if I wasn’t ever rich or somethin’, and decide to try and make someone else’s a little better too.”
And he knew how insanely optimistic that always sounded, even moreso with where he’d ended up, but Cal still believed it wholeheartedly. “The world gives you what you give the world. Jus’ made sense to me to always have a kind word and open ears, maybe the know-how to try and ease some hurtin’ when I happen across it,” he summarized, nodding more zealously at Adam’s last suggestion. “Which means that yeah, we should talk like this more often. As frequent as you feel like, really.”
Adam looked around them then gave Cal a curious look. “This still seems like a good idea when you could have had a shoe named after you?” he said, not accusing, just curious how Cal was able to look at it like that. “That sounds like karma...and I’m not sure I believe in it.” Or he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong enough to have the situations he’d wound up in. “Alright. More often. Hold me to it if I forget I guess?”
The first question drew a bright laugh from Cal as he folded his arms together, nodding and chuckling at the idea. It was insane to a lot of people, to think of passing up fame and money. Even he’d had moments of doubt, and given where he landed? Maybe they’d been right. “Doesn’t matter if it’s assistin’ surgery on a father of three’s heart bypass, helpin’ to set up a deaf child’s cochlear implant and seeing them hear their own name for the first time, or just makin’ the rounds and happening to see a grandmother holdin’ her grandchild outside the nursery,” Cal explained, “There’s some stuff that Nike doesn’t have enough money for. Rich men make charities to do some good, but they’re still just payin’ people to have it done.”
His tone of voice alone destroyed any idea that Cal might have regretted his choice, and he could only keep up the easy nod in Adam’s direction. “More often, I’ll take it. And if you’re a stranger ‘round here, I’ll send word or come knockin’ or something. Lord knows the ladies think I need to get out of here more.”
“Alright look, when you put it that way, no one can argue with you. Makes a shoe and fans and being a showstopper sound really shallow.” It got a smile out of Adam who nodded again. “You’re always welcome upstairs,” he said pointing up. “It doesn’t look like much, but it’s there.” He let out another breath and tried for another smile even if it didn’t get to his eyes. “Thanks. For the shot and...listening I guess.”
“You got it,” Cal assured him, smiling right back as he offered Adam a hand easily. “And don’t ever feel like it’s some obligation, got it? None of that ‘I guess’ stuff with me, I’m here for you whatever the trouble is,” he stressed, hoping Adam would believe that despite the doubts that plagued him on several other fronts. “I’ll see you soon Adam, one way or another. Hell, with what I’m seein’ on the terminals, I might just be up there tomorrow for whatever these jobs are. See what people are doin’ with their last free days ‘fore they get to go to work.”
There was a clear moment of hesitation before Adam reached out and took Cal’s hand, shaking it despite that being a weird feeling. He’d never really been in a position where he shook hands before. “I appreciate that. You being here,” he said, nodding a little. “It should be interesting. I just hope they don’t make me clean things. I’m going to get fired from my prison job.” He laughed slightly then started tucked his hands in his pockets. “See you around.” Adam started towards the door, looking back at Cal once more before leaving.