RP: When, not if.
Who: Tate & Alec What: First Session When: May 4th (Back dated) Where: Alec's Office Warnings: He is there for help but I think it was a fairly harmless scene.
The meltdown in front of Quin, in her home, had been eye opening for Tate. While Quin had been the mother that he needed, she had never once threatened him that if he didn’t get sober, he wouldn’t be in the children’s lives. He however had given himself that threat. That he needed to get sober so that he could be around to see the kids. He wanted to be able to share with the children stories of their father, a man that they would never meet. Tate knew that if he didn’t get sober soon, he wouldn’t live long enough to tell them anything.
It was that motivation that had Tate taking the appointment that Quin had made for him. Tate had panicked when he realized that he didn’t know where to start with all of this, he had sent a message to Quin asking for help. While he had been trying to not drink, it had been hard. The first day had been fine, he’d told himself that he felt fine and he had gone through his day without any problems. The second day however he had woke up with the sweats, found himself shaking while trying to do simple tasks around his flat, and by the time he had made it to dinner time, he was drunk and in bed watching cartoons on his muggle TV. He had not been able to stay sober. He had been bargaining with himself, that he was just drinking enough to avoid the shaking and the sweats.
When he had been getting ready for his appointment this morning, he had thought about showering and actually looking presentable but he had taken a shot or two of the whiskey he had tucked under his bed. It had caused him to lose track of time and he had only just made it out the door in time. He was wearing a pair of jeans that hadn’t been washed since that night he had showed up at Quin’s home, a t-shirt for some band that had seen better days, and his hair was just a mess. He knew there was a chance he still smelled of the whiskey he had drank earlier, so he had attempted to mask it by spraying just a little cologne on his clothes. It was childish, the last time he had tried that trick he had been in school and smoking weed during summer break. It didn’t work then, he had no idea why he thought it would now.
As Tate heard them call his name, he knew this was the point of no return. He could turn and leave or he could walk into that room and meet this doctor Quin had set him up with. Blurry eyes glanced towards the doors, before he pushed himself to get up from his seat. He wasn’t drunk, but he could feel the buzz. That familiar feeling that gave the world a fuzzy glow that made reality easier to swallow. He walked steadily through the door and into his first appointment. As he entered the room, he gave an awkward little wave and half smile, before he nervously motioned at the door. “Should I shut it?”
Tate's name wasn't one that he recognized when he'd looked at his calendar, which had come as rather a surprise to him-- he was familiar with a good amount of people around, the Sewells included-- thanks to his pureblood upbringing-- but he'd never heard of a Tate. For all he knew, of course, it was a shortened version of something, a matter of age differences could have been in play, different houses... And still, it was unmistakably odd.
So he decided to be patient, his kettle slowly nearing a rolling boil as he sat, pad of paper and a muggle pen in hand, looking up only once Tate made his entrance. Didn't recognize him, either, but he certainly looked as if he belonged in his office, so that was a good start.
Smiling, Alec moved to stand, softly shrugging as he gestured to the door. "Your problems aren't really anyone else's business. But if you feel more comfortable with it open, I can always cast a charm to keep the sound from carrying anywhere outside of the room. Your call, of course."
It took a moment at the door, he hadn’t anticipated to be given the option. He could see how someone more paranoid than he might want the door left open, he however felt much safer with the door closed. It may have cut off his only escape but he trusted Quin. She had made the appointment, he doubted she would have made the appointment with someone that was out to hurt him in any way. With the debate finally over in his mind, he pulled the door shut and made his way deeper into the office, where he slid into a seat on the sofa.
Normally Tate didn’t mind silence, today however was different. He knew he was supposed to talk, the man across from him was supposed to listen, judge, and hopefully help him. Where did you start with all of this though? He fidgeted nervously in his seat, one hand coming down to pull at the jean fabric at his knee, as if adjusting his pants. He was already chewing at his lower lip, what he wouldn’t give for a smoke. Though he would never smoke inside, let alone inside at his first appointment with a doctor of any sort, so that was out.
“So.. How does this all work? I’ll admit, I didn’t make the appointment myself. My step-mother Quin made it for me, but I did ask her to do so. She works here.” Somewhere? He was sure.
Getting up to head over to his small tea station as his kettle began to whistle, he turned to look at Tate. "Well, first I'm going to ask you if you'd like any tea." He wasn't about to be quite so lousy a host-- of sorts, anyway-- that he'd serve himself and completely leave out his patient, pouring himself a cup of lavender tea as he waited.
"And then, you might want to start by telling me why you asked your stepmother to make the appointment."
Tate’s grey eyes followed Alec around the room, relaxing just a fraction as the man spoke. He didn’t speak as if this was in fact a doctor’s appointment. He spoke as if they were friends of some sort, it helped to calm Tate down significantly. His head bobbed in a nod, “If it’s alright?” He couldn’t be bothered to care what the tea was, it would help to have something to sip at. His oral fixation for a cigarette would be sated by being able to sip from the cup every few seconds.
“I can start there…” He hoped he could anyway. He swallowed then, the sound impossibly loud to his own ears. “I have two younger siblings, I’d like to be around to see them when they are adults. The youngest isn’t even a year old.” Which probably said something about his stepmother’s age but he assumed Alec already knew Quin in some way. He doubted he needed to voice that his stepmother was barely older than he was, at least not yet. He’d address that problem eventually, he was sure of it. “The reason I don’t think I’ll be around is that I uh..” He winced a bit, he didn’t like admitting this part. “Lost my job, though this isn’t the first one. Probably the third since France? Maybe more? I tend to get wrapped up with a good bottle of whiskey.” He wouldn’t say alcoholic, it was a word he was avoiding. He had heard it used a lot with himself. He knew it was probably the worst way to describe why he had come, but it was all he could come up with at the moment.
Alec laughed. "If the tea is all right, or if it's all right for you to have some of the tea?" Turning to look at him, he smiled, two cups of tea floating over to the table between them as Alec moved to take a seat. "I'd certainly say it's all right. Lavender." The calming properties did always serve to aid his patients, though that was hardly surprising.
Grabbing his own cup, he leaned back, listening quietly as he blew on his tea, slowly nodding. "That's quite the age difference." He could only imagine that Quin would prove to be quite a bit younger than his father had been. "When did you leave France?" The last thing he needed was for Tate to focus on his negative attributes-- for now, he simply wanted to make him feel more comfortable.
Tate let out a sigh of relief when he saw the two cups floating to the table, “Uh, I think the last one? Which is ridiculous, you had asked me.” He gave a slight eye roll, a nervous laugh leaving him. He had relaxed just a bit when Alec had laughed, clearly the man wasn’t some up tight know it all like Tate had originally imagined. He had been envisioning a man with grey hair, grey beard, and stuffy. Not able to make jokes, nothing. It made him relax that the man seemed to be far from what Tate had been imaging.
When Alec didn’t focus on any of the bad bits, Tate was a bit surprised. He just nodded his head, focusing on the questions that were put to him. “Uh..” He picked at his pant leg, before leaning forward so that he could pick up the cup of tea. He brought it to his lips to blow on it, before taking a sip. “A few months back? I think it was February, towards the end of the month. The age difference…” Tate shrugged his shoulders then, “She’s only a few years older than I am. They were a good match though, my father and Quin.” At least they had seemed to be, Tate had always found it so odd how his father had essentially just bought Quin, but he had never been in a position to fight his father on something like that. Quin had been happy, that was all Tate really knew.
Goodness, the guy was nervous, wasn't he? Well, he supposed that a first time was a first time, regardless of what the occasion or the reasoning behind it. Of course, there was also the fact to consider that the man had a problem with alcohol addiction-- significant enough that he'd gone through three jobs in just a couple months. He couldn't imagine what kind of hell France must have been, let alone whatever other travel itinerary had preceded it. The man clearly wasn't French, judging by his accent, so there was obviously more to that story, but that, too, could wait.
"I'm sorry for the loss," Alec nodded as he slowly set his tea and saucer back down for the time being. "I take it you were close? Or... more so you and your stepmother? Without the experience, I can't quite decide whether having a parental figure so close in age would be a blessing or a curse," he smiled, settling back into his seat.
It was an automatic reaction for Tate when he heard someone say that phrase, he nodded his head and muttered a, “It’s fine,” before he could stop himself. He had heard that phrase so many times after his mother had died and then he got to go through it all over again with his father. It had been hard enough the first time around. He knew it was just the polite thing to do, he just didn’t like it much.
“My father and I were close,” Tate bobbed his head, shrugging fairly uselessly. “I did grow close to Quin after they were married, she didn’t have anyone else in the entire country. Her family let my father buy her.” Which would probably sound so much stranger if he had mentioned it in a muggle office, he was sure of it. He always avoided telling his muggle friends about how his father had actually found and won Quin’s heart. He’d lied for years because they wouldn’t understand that his father had essentially bought Quin. He really didn’t get it himself because the tradition had not carried on. His father had gone about things the way he had, Tate assumed, because of Quin’s family. He had never really questioned it.
“It’s a bit of a curse, all of your friends tend to see her as some MILF while you just see her as the woman who married your father and gave birth to your siblings… I mean, I can see that she’s not much older than me, hell she looks younger than me most days. We didn’t speak for a long time..” Tate knew Alec hadn’t asked about that but for some reason he felt it was pertinent to the conversation.
His reaction was telling, if sadly predictable. He had to have been told the same thing about a million times by now, not that Alec could blame anyone else, either. It wasn't as though people had one hell of a lot else to say on occasions such as this one. Of course, that was when Tate turned a fairly normal story into quite a different one at his mention of his father buying his step-mother.
"Oh." That certainly said a good deal. "Those sorts of purebloods, then? I'm... unfortunately familiar."
Tate's was an interesting perspective, Alec mulling it over for a long moment, quietly nodding to himself. "It does make sense. Had you grown up alongside someone to whom you... weren't related, even if you would have normally found them attractive had they, say, been your neighbor all those years, or perhaps a schoolmate, that sort of thing is naturally negated by the familial bond our brains create. In other words, it's as if there's was a... biologically pre-programmed block that keeps us from banging our siblings, so to speak."
Tate couldn’t help the wince at Alec’s words, those sort of purebloods, rang in his ears. He let out a harsh little laugh though, “I wish I weren’t. To be honest, I didn’t know much about it until he wanted to marry Quin. My parents met through work. Sure, he told me about his family in London and how things worked over here. I didn’t think he was serious until he told me how he had essentially bought Quintella.” Which had been so strange for Tate. He hadn’t really understood back then, hell he didn’t think he really understood now though either.
“It does that?” Tate sounded a bit wondered by that, he supposed he should have known on some level that your brain would have a fail safe in place for something like that. There had to be a reason that you weren’t attracted to your siblings, though then an odd thought struck him. “So what about all those people that were marrying within the family and such to keep their lines pure? Were they never actually attracted to their family members or was it just a whole other time back then that no one can really figure out?” Tate tended to ask odd questions if a thought struck him. It was something he'd picked up growing up with his father. His father had loved sharing knowledge and had always encouraged Tate to ask any odd question he could think up.
"That sounds rough," he admitted with a nod. "My parents' marriage was arranged. They knew each other from school, but... let's just say I doubt they would have ended up with each other if they could have had anyone they wanted."
Nodding at Tate's question, he couldn't help but grin as his brain began to evidently take things a few steps further. "Well, if my family line is any indication, then, no, they weren't attracted to each other. It just wasn't an option not to. So I guess if you've always known you're marrying your cousin or your brother... you probably just resign yourself to that. Which sounds pretty grim, if you ask me. I'd say we both got rather lucky in that regard, seeing as neither of us are married to one of our relatives... I assume."
Taking a long sip of his tea, he nodded to Tate. "Tell me about your job. Is it something you enjoy doing, or...?"
Tate couldn’t help the sneer that took over his expression for a moment, he hated the idea of arranged marriages. “I figure that’s how most of those go. I doubt that was any fun for you growing up. I can’t image what it’d be like to grow up knowing that your parents don’t actually love each other. I wonder if it can give people a warped sense of love.” Tate was musing out loud, mostly to avoid talking more about himself. He was getting nervous and he knew that his time wasn’t as close to being over as he would have liked.
“We definitely have, I don’t think I’d have been able to handle it. At least, not with this mind set.” He reached a hand up to tap his index finger against his temple. When asked about his job though, he seemed to change. “Well, it is… I don’t technically have a job currently but I work as a chef.” He brightened a bit at that, while it was an environment that could easily have him backsliding, if he could keep his nose clean then he’d do just fine. “I learned everything I know while I was in France, working under my mentor. He was a wonderful man.” Tate had been a bit devastated when the man had passed away, Tate’s coping skills were barely there.
“I’m hoping that maybe I can find something closer to home, now that I’m in the market.” He wasn’t comfortable enough to admit that he couldn’t apparate. He wanted to be closer to home for that reason alone though, since it was getting costly to always find transportation to and from. His last job had been too far to walk and had cost him dearly to find rides. He had lucked out his second week though, the dishwasher happened to live nearby and had drove him for a while.
Chuckling, Alec slowly nodded. "It was an interesting time, let's just put it that way. But... it's also all I've ever known, so the idea of anything else is rather foreign to me." Thinking on his comment, Alec cocked his head. "You know, I think it actually just showed me what I don't want out of a relationship, if that makes sense. Did you see the kind of relationship you'd like to have in your family when you were growing up?" He knew that was rare, which was unfortunate when one considered the sort of damage that was frequently done as a result. People getting into relationships with carbon copies of their abusive parents, wanting to replay the same scenario, over and over, until it worked... of course, that was how people (over and over) found out that that never worked only for them to try it all again with the next person that resembled their parents in appearance, patterns of abuse...
"Just because you're not currently employed doesn't mean that you're not a chef, or that it isn't your job," Alec smiled, his expression sobering when Tate mentioned the passing of his mentor. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine that that would have been easy, especially not after losing your father." He certainly sounded like he had been a father-figure of sorts to Tate.
"Sure. What kind of work do you do in the industry? Cooking, baking...?"
Tate thought about if he had seen the type of relationship he wanted when he had been growing up, he shook his head slowly. “Not really, no. I want there to be love, that’s about it. My parents were in love when they got married, so I’d like that. I assume my siblings could still arrange a marriage for me but that’s absolutely the last thing that I want. I never want someone feeling forced to be with me, that’s not consensual sex to me in any sort of way.” He never wanted that, it was the last thing he wanted. He had watched his father’s marriage with Quin and it had been so strange. He hadn’t understood, even when his father had made his intentions clear.
When Alec reminded him that just because he did not have a job currently didn’t mean that he wasn’t a chef, he actually smiled. His head nodded a bit, “Cooking, I love being a chef. I love knowing just how to handle food, how mix it all together to make something delicious. I love creating dishes that bring people together. Delicious, big,” Tate was getting more animated as he spoke about cooking. Hands were moving to describe things, as he mentioned creating dishes to bring people together, he mimed a large table that they’d be seated at. “meals, where you can invite all of the family and extended friends. I was a head chef for a while back in France, I’ve not.. Made a name for myself here and can’t really use the connections I did make while in France… I may have burned a few bridges after my father had passed away.” Tate may have even winced, some of the things he knew he had done were bad. There was the one chef who had taken him on as a favor and Tate had not only been extremely drunk while at work, he had thrown a fit when he was fired and trashed his station.
There was no mirth in his chuckle, his smile sad as he slowly nodded. "I would think-- hope, really-- that most people would prefer to marry for love instead of it being arranged."
In stark contrast to their conversation about relationships, it was quite nice to see how happy the topic of cooking seemed to make Tate. "That sounds very Greek, that image. One big family, all at the same table, arguing away as families are wont to do. Maybe even some singing." It was a nice thought, and it struck him that Tate's motivation was quite obviously coming from the right place. "But I don't think you should worry too much over whether or not you've made a name for yourself just yet. Pressure, in my general experience, does more to cripple someone than help them. Even if it seems perfectly harmless-- positive, even."
Tate whole heartedly agreed with Alec, though he had a feeling there were still some that were into those ridiculous customs. He just nodded his head, agreeing whole heartedly.
This entire visit was making Tate feel more relaxed as the conversation went on. He had started to sink a bit into the couch, finally letting himself relax and not sit so rigid in the spot. He wasn’t picking at the couch of his pants, he was just chatting with… Not a friend, though it felt like that. It was easy, which was good. Tate had been worried that the doctor might be some stuffy old man that would just label him as another addict and toss him out on his ear. He had a few friends that had gone through this in the states that had warned him that was what happened, it had been ridiculous to believe them as none of them had ever gone through it. He had been so worried anyway.
“It’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” He gave a useless shrug, “I’m hoping that maybe once I’m feeling better, I can maybe try to have one of those dinners. My stepmother has the yard, I’m sure of it.” While Tate wouldn’t want to be stuck in the kitchen of his father’s old home where Quin was currently staying, he knew he would if they would all be piling out into the yard to be able to eat together. He knew that it’d be worth it just to be able to spend time with all of his friends and family in one place. He already knew who he’d invite as well.
“How long are my sessions?” He asked then, “I.. I’ve never done this sort of thing before. I had actually assumed that you’d be writing me off and we would have to follow guidelines, like these are what to say to an alcoholic, and such.” He shook his head, “I realize now why that was ridiculous.”
If Tate was beginning to feel comfortable, then Alec was doing his job well. If there was one thing he tried to achieve as a therapist, it was the fostering of a good doctor-patient relationship, building a rapport with his patients until they felt comfortable enough to open up around him. Of course, the patients were as much an element of that being successful as he was. Someone as guarded as Roger was just about impossible to work with. Tate, meanwhile, was pleasantly easy to talk to, as though he wanted this to be a comfortable thing. It was nice.
"I'd say that's a great goal to work toward. Maybe that could be your reward to yourself for when you make it there." When. Not if.
Laughing at Tate's explanation of what he'd expected, Alec shook his head. "It's not ridiculous. The media certainly puts that sort of spin on it, from what I hear. But I think that formulas don't really work. We're all too different for that to be the case." Glancing at his watch, he smiled. "We're technically almost done for today, but it's my lunch after this, so you really have as much time as you need."
Tate heard that, when. Alec had faith in him? He was sure the surprise was likely written on his face just then. It was good to hear that someone had faith in him, he liked knowing that he might not be a lost cause. It felt good to know it wasn’t in his head, he could do this.
He flashed him a smile, nodding his head. “Thank you. I think I want to be done for today.. Should this be a weekly thing, or? I don’t know how any of this is supposed to really work.” He was moving already to get up though. He assumed that he likely made the appointment with his secretary or something. He was ready to get going though, while he was relaxed and comfortable talking with the other man, he was ready to go home. He had been so anxious about this entire thing that now that it was over, he was feeling exhausted.
It was heartening to see the brief flash of surprised happiness in the other man's features, and Alec smiled.
"It's up to you, honestly. Once a week, twice a month, once a month... whatever suits your schedule and what you'd be most comfortable with doing." Who was he to decide how quickly the other man's recovery should be? "What I would like you to try to do, though, until the next time we see each other... for every time you manage to resist the urge to drink, I want you to find some small way to reward yourself. Try to get used to rewarding and reinforcing good behavior instead of punishing the bad." He was quiet for a moment.
"Another thing that I might suggest... since you're not currently too busy with work and it can be all too easy to get caught up in what you don't have and what you can turn to go take your mind off things... if this is something you'd consider regardless, get yourself an animal companion. Something young, ideally. Something somewhat high-maintenance, the well-being of which you'd be responsible for and that you could turn to in emotional times of need. It doesn't matter if this is a... kitten, a puppy, a familiar, a bird, a mouse... just something you'll want to take care of. Because it will not only bring you great joy... it will also show you that you're capable of being strong and responsible."
Tate rather liked the sound like that, whenever it was that suited his schedule best. He would be sure to let Quin, or someone else at least, know so that he could be held accountable and show up. He wanted to make the changes but he also knew himself. He knew that if he was left to decide completely on his own, there was a high chance that he would try to get out of it and make excuses for why he didn’t need it. He didn’t want to end up back in that hole, he knew that the hole came without younger siblings, friends, and a whole host of other things.
“I’ll keep it in mind, whatever days. I’ll maybe try twice a month to start?” That was he’d give himself an entire week to get himself out of the house, looking for a new job, and maybe getting his ass into gear. Things were starting to look up. It was definitely going to be a slow process but it was happening.
A look of surprise colored his features when Alec told him what he wanted him to try, positive reinforcement? That wasn’t an entirely new concept to Tate, Quin practiced it often, it was however a surprise to hear someone else using it. Someone that clearly knew what they were doing and were damn good at it. He’d have to tell Quin later, she was on to something. He gave the other man that lopsided smile, nodding his head. “I can do that, definitely.” He knew just what he’d reward himself with too, sweets or a new cooking tool for the kitchen. Something that he’d enjoy and would keep him away from the booze.
The mention of a companion made him think, he nodded his head again as he made his way towards the door to the office. “I’ll think about it. I’ll take a stroll at that shop, the Beast something?” He gave a slight shrug, it was very near to his home so he knew he’d be able to pop in. Hell, Alec’s office was very near to his home. He was lucking out finding everything he needed on Victory Road lately. “Thank you, again. You feel more like an old friend than some doctor analyzing me.” He admitted as he opened the door, “Thanks.” It meant more than he likely could have ever expressed just then. He slipped out the door then, relieved to have finished his first session. He could even admit that it hadn’t gone badly at all. Emilia and Quin would be proud.
"Twice a month would be great," he slowly nodded, "just let Greta know which days and times would be preferable and she'll get you scheduled." After all, he did spend at least two thirds of his time at St. Mungo's or the clinic. Then again... if those were preferable to him in terms of location... but he supposed Greta and Tate could work that out between the two of them after this.
His comments made him smile, though. If only all of his patients were this receptive. Luckily for both of them, Tate seemed exceptionally eager to get better. That was always a good thing.
"Bestiary," he smiled with a soft nod. "Yes. And I can't tell you how thrilled I am to hear that. You are more than welcome. Thank you for deciding to make this change and get help. That takes genuine guts."
He always strove to have his patients look at him as more of a friend than a doctor, and the fact that Tate already felt this way meant that they were liable to make far more progress far more quickly than he might have anticipated. "I'll look forward to having you back in my office."