Jean Grey is a marvel (phoenix_down_) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-10-01 21:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, jean grey (phoenix), kitty pryde (shadowcat) |
Who: Jean Grey and Kitty Pryde
Where: Jean's office
What: a session goes awry
When: yesterday
Warnings/Rating: pg
Status complete
This was it. Kitty took a deep breath, and wrote her name on the paper, and the time of her arrival, then she took her seat to wait. Her research had discovered that this place was recommended by a lot of people, and accepted the so-called ‘dreamers.’
Jean looked over the fresh, clean paperwork for her newest patient. A Katherine Pryde who seemed to be suffering from PTSD. She liked these cases, because there was such a great potential for positive change. Working with adults was harder than children, but ultimately more rewarding. She smiled as she walked out and approached Kitty. “Miss Pryde?”
Kitty got to her feet, but when she looked at Jean, she had an expression on her face as if she looked at a ghost. In her dreams, Jean was a dead woman, several times over. She’d long ago thought that the woman had managed to avoid the county and the dreams. “Uh. Hi.” Something tells me you’re going to be needing to talk to me or someone else before too long, instead, Jean.
“Hi. I’m Doctor Jean Grey. Follow me back to my office, please.” She smiled again and turned around, heading toward the back. Her office was professional but soft. It was painted a soft blue-ish grey, and all the furniture was classy, comfortable, and in soft shades of white, grey and blue. She wanted the place to feel relaxing. She motioned toward a very plush seat. “Go ahead and have a seat. Today we’ll just be doing an evaluation of your needs, so I can put together a plan of action for our meetings. So let’s start at the beginning. Tell me a little about yourself, please.”
What's your opinion on the legend of the Phoenix Kitty found herself wanting to ask, instead, she said, "Before we get started, how much do you know about Dreamers?"
“I know that I have two clients who currently identify themselves as that, and that there’s an internet forum dedicated to the discussion of their dreams. The dreams themselves have various forms, and are often quite traumatic.” Which was all she could really say without breaching patient confidentiality. “What does the term mean to you?”
Kitty simply sank into the floor and disappeared. She emerged a moment later behind Jean. “They mean death and rebirth, torture and killing. They mean joy, and happiness and hope. They’re a gift, but the curse of the gift is the need to do something with that power and knowledge.” She stepped around Jean and sat back down. “So do you want the dream trauma, or the waking trauma, or the trauma that’s a mixture? Which is most of it.”
She paused, then scratched the back of her neck and added, “About myself. Everyone calls me Kitty, I’m a computer wizard slash ninja, a superhero, and about a four on the Kinsey scale. I was married, but she was killed on that Japan Air bombing in February, on the way to our honeymoon. I was the only survivor.” She found herself unable to stop, “And before that, I was on a ship that was selling girls into slavery, but escaped, and then was rescued by friends. Another time was tortured by my girlfriend at the time, only she was possessed by someone. There was the time an evil clone or twin of a friend wrecked my house and I had to kill her. She’s okay though. I’ve punched terrorists in the face, and I was in Las Vegas when that city was destroyed.”
Kitty slid down in the chair. “God I sound insane.”
Jean blinked a little, then set her pen down. “I’m afraid that you’re beyond my level of expertise.” She spoke vaguely. “Please see yourself out.” She was pretty sure she’d just hallucinated that whole encounter, and she needed to take a break. Clearly she’d been working herself too hard.
“Son of a bitch.” Kitty got to her feet. She held up her hands, palm out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let all that out at once, but you kind of need to know that things are really messed up in this place. I’m not even the most traumatized person out here.”
“I’m not sure what I just saw, but I really need you to leave now.” Jean’s tone was gentle but firm.
Kitty decided that she was her own worse enemy. She dropped her hands to her side, and said forlornly. “Please. I really, really need help. Can we just..just talk about my wife, at least?”
“Next week. I can’t continue the session under current circumstances.” She stood up and opened the door. “I’m not feeling well anymore today.”
"Fuck." Kitty ran her hand through her hair. She was an idiot, and it hurt worse because of who it was. What Jean represented to her.
Next week wasn't going to happen, she was sure of that. She couldn't look Jean in the eye and tell her the things in her head, especially the ones pertaining to the red-head. I was best friends with your daughter from an alternate timeline. I loved her more than friends but never realized it. Also, you died a lot.
"Sorry. I get carried away some times. I wanted to show first and I never really talk about any of it and... Yeah." She walked past Jean and through the door, grabbing her helmet. She went through the closed door and jumped onto her motorcycle. If she couldn't have talky therapy, she was going to have dangerous riding therapy.
Jean sighed as Kitty left and shut the door quietly. She had no idea what had just happened, and frankly she was frightened. All she could think was that she was either too stressed out by her job, or Kitty had played a prank on her, somehow. Her hands shook as she went to her desk. She’d have to cancel the rest of her appointments. If she wasn’t sure about her own mental stability she certainly couldn’t help other people regain theirs.