Log: Cree(Ethan)/Dr. Oswald Who: Cree Slavin (largely as Ethan) and Dr. Oswald. When: January 21. Afternoon. Where: Base; Dr. Oswald's office. What: Therapy session. The shrink wants to talk with the other person in Cree's head.
Cree had already been in Dr. Oswald's office for a while, sitting there with Jacob listening in as he answered various questions. Cree didn't particularly like being there, although the psychiatrist seemed nice enough. He didn't seem scary like some shrinks Cree had met. The questions were alright, although some of them made Cree furrow his brow and glance at Jacob before he answered, as if the other man would know better than he would.
Finally, Dr. Oswald asked Jacob to leave so he could speak to Cree one-on-one. (Or one-on-two as it were). Cree curled his hands together in his lap, watching Jacob go before his pale pale blue yes slid back to the shrink.
"Hi," he said a bit nervously, as if he hadn't been sitting in the room for almost an hour now.
"Hi," Dante returned placing the pen in his hand on the desk. It was a cheap one, not one of the nicer ones people would expect. He took it from a grocery store without thinking and liked the way it wrote. Jacob was a good man and Dante understood the protective nature he had with Cree who apparently had someone else living inside. All of it was peculiar, and oh how Dante loved the peculiar. "I'm sorry I had to ask Jacob to leave, but I want to assure you that you're in safe hands."
Moving to stand he walked over to another cabinet, grabbed a blank folder than he had intentions of putting information he had from Ethan inside. One of Ozzie's drawers had two boxes. Originally there'd only been one, which were the drugs that he used on Grier for their sessions together. He was given a new box with a sedative that would put Cree to sleep, and hopefully bring Ethan out. "You've made a number of friends here, am I correct?"
"It's alright," Cree replied quietly. He didn't think he had any reason to be afraid of Dr. Oswald, at least nothing he could see thus far. And he didn't think that Jacob would just leave the room if ther was something to be worried about.
He licked his lips, tilting his head a little bit. His hair almost brushed his shoulder and it was choppy, as if he'd cut it himself. Which he had. It just seemed easier to cut his own hair when he needed it. "We've made a few friends," he agreed with a little nod of his head. "Jacob." Although Jacob was more protector than friend. "Nando. Juniper." Those were the only people he'd spoken to at any length, although he'd been told he might get along with a boy named Milo too, and maybe a few others.
Dante wrote the names down. Nando and Juniper. They were safe. Milo was probably another one he could be friends with, possibly Micah and Coin. Cree didn't seem like he'd be one to keep company with people like Owen or Isaak. "Who would you say is your closest friend? The person you confide in the most?"
"Nando." Cree didn't have to think about that, it was an easy answer. Nando was his closet friend, the person he spoke to he most, spent the most time with. "He's our best friend." At least that was how he liked to think of Nando. His fingers twitched together in his lap as he sat there. He wondered what Dr. Oswald was writing about him. He was too polite to ask.
"Nando is a good person, Cree. You're lucky to have him as your friend. With Nando, how much about yourself have you divulged? Everything? A little bit? I'm sorry for prying into your relationship with Nando, but it might better help this evaluation," which was rather true though he was wondering if Cree was aware that Nando knew about Ethan. He suspected he did, but his conversation with Jacob once before had said nothing specific about that.
He picked up his pen again and wrote Nando's name down with an arrow below it for any comments Cree had. "Would you say your relationship with Nando is platonic? Romantic?"
"Not everything," Cree replied, and tha was largely because he didn't like to talk about himself a lot. He wasn't the type to just ramble on about himself. More he was the type to ask about others. "He knows the basics, though." Which included Ethan. Nando knew about him through an encounter, unfortunately. Two encounters now. "The important things."
He blinked at the question, and wasn't entirely sure how to answer. "We... aren't sure," he said with a thoughtful little frown. "Platonic?" They had kissed that one time, but aside from that nothing, and they hadn't exactly talked about it. Cree was too nervous to bring it up.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Dante looked up with a smile, "Sometimes it takes awhile. Before Stargate you had another friend. Ethan." He looked up at Cree, studying his body language, facial expressions. His general reaction, "How would you describe your relationship with him?" He wasn't going to ask to speak with Ethan yet, they had plenty of time. Whatever he could gather from Cree before hand would be useful.
Ethan. It all came back to Ethan, at least his predicament. "We don't like him," he said plainly, making a little sour face. He disliked saying Ethan's name, as if that made him more real. "He's not very nice." And in the back of his mind, Ethan was snickering over that. "We were friends, once. Except it turned out he was bad." Cree understood that now, that Ethan had been manipulating him. But at the time he had thought that Ethan was really a friend. "He causes trouble."
"I see," he jotted down some notes. Ethan was the dominant in the relationship when he was a separate person completely. But how dominant was Ethan now that he had to wait for Cree to go to sleep before he could garner some control. It must annoy him. Or not. He wouldn't really know until he spoke with Ethan himself. Dante tried to carefully explain what was going to happen, "At some point of this meeting, Cree, I'm going to need to speak with Ethan. You've already made it clear you do not like him. But unfortunately he is still a part of you, and I'll need to talk with him for a bit."
He reached forward and grabbed the glass of cold water from the coaster where it sat, drinking from it, then returning it to its place. "When would you say you were first aware of Ethan's presence?" he questioned, "Does he influence your thoughts while you're conscious now, or does he simply take the wheel, so to speak, when you are unconscious?"
"Right away," Cree answered promptly. As soon as he'd woken up in the hospital after beig shot, he had realized that something wasn't right. That Ethan was chattering even though he wasn't anywhere in the room. Even though he was dead he had soon found out. Except not dead at all. Apparently he'd somehow taken up residence in Cree's head.
"We here him all the time. He's always there." Cree could hear Ethan in his head at that momnt. Snorting over Dr. Osward's question and also his shirt. Ethan was like running colour commentary in his head. And sometimes he influenced Cree in ways that Cree didn't realize. Like when he started writing with his left hand insted of his right (Ethan was left handed). "Somehow... he can come out when we're asleep. We don't know why. Or how." Just that it happened.
His eyebrows furrowed, "All the time." A tilt of his head, a jot of the pen against the paper, "It is peculiar." He tapped that pen against his chin. Unlike Grier, this was something that couldn't quite be explained. An interesting case indeed. Scratching a bit behind his ear, "So that is why you often refer to yourself as 'we'. You are speaking on his behalf as well. Do you normally agree with him or is his commentary usually contradictory to what you feel? And you've never had a moment where he wasn't there?"
"Yes." Cree nodded his head, glad that someone understood. Most people just thought he was crazy when he spoke of himself in the plural, and maybe he was crazy. He had a permanent voice in his head! Except his voice wasn't a figment of his imagination or psyche, it was a perso dislodged into his head. "We don't agree with him most of the time. Almost never." Because Ethan liked to be rude and cause trouble, and Cree was generally agreeable and nice.
"He's always there. Sometimes he's quiet but he's always there."
Ethan's presence had yet to really be something Dante would decide was good or bad. They were like two sides of a spectrum. Cree was quiet and reserved, timid...submissive. This relationship wasn't uncommon, not in everyday friendships or even some of the greatest duos the world had seen which caused havoc and harm. Cree was now aware of Ethan, didn't like him, but how much control over Cree's thoughts did Ethan have an effect on? A smile and a note on the side. He'd see Cree more often, this he was determined of.
"Like I said before, I'm going to need to speak with Ethan," he spoke carefully and pulled the box out of his desk. Cree was probably hesitant of anything giving him anything, given the fact that Ethan had apparently allowed someone to rape Cree. Dante had no interest in Ethan beyond the fact that he was a mind inside a mind. "I'll sedate you, it'll put you into a dreamlike state and hopefully Ethan will come to the surface. The amount I'm using will merely put you to sleep and I'll wake you when I'm done. Then we'll chat for a little more. That sound fair?"
Cree wasn't thrilled with the idea, but he was prepared, because Jacob had told him ahead of time that the psychiatrist would want to speak to Ethan. And Cree sleeping seemed the way to do that, for whatever reason. He nodded slowly.
"That's fair," he agreed. He sounded nervous, but not so nervous that he would balk at it. Dr. Oswald didn't seem scary to him, so it wouldn't be too bad, he reasoned to himself. "Do you need..." Cree pointed to his arm, gesturing to his shirtsleeve. He didn't know if the man was going to give him a pill or a shot.
"Yes, if you don't mind," Dante stood, carrying the box with him and sat against the front of his desk. He smiled cheerily and opened the box, taking out the rubbing alcohol and the cotton ball. It'd take a few seconds to set in, instead of minutes. Cree would sleep, Ethan would hopefully talk and wouldn't be as difficult or unresponsive as some of Grier's past lives could be. He took Cree's offered arm, carefully rolling the sleeve up and then putting some of the rubbing alcohol on the cotton. Swabbing it at his skin, he then took out the syringe, "You'll just feel a poke. It's like getting a normal shot. Once I pull it out, I want you to countdown from ten to one."
Pushing the clear liquid into Cree's arm, he removed the needle and then wiped at the dab of blood with the alcohol. Dante applied a small band-aid and then moved to sit behind his desk again.
Cree obediently tugged the arm of his sleeve up, revealing the crook of his elbow. He winced a little bit at the pinch that was the needle sliding in, but it wasn't too bad, and he had a lot of experience with needles, unfortunately. From his time at the mental hospital.
When the needle came out, he started counting backwards. Ten and nine he got out easily. Around eight he started feeling groggy. At seven, his eyes were drooping, and before six came, he had sunk back against the sofa, asleep.
Now unconscious it was only waiting for Ethan to perk up or at least say something now that he was in control. Or so Dante deduced. A fresh piece of paper ready and the clock on the wall nearby ticking the seconds away, he watched Cree's body slumped on the couch and pondered. He had an idea of what Ethan was like but he couldn't make any real conclusion until he actually spoke with the other boy. No. The other entity.
"If you're faking sleeping, I'd hope you wouldn't. You're wasting your time," he did add the 'and mine' to the end of that statement because he doubted Ethan would care if he did or not.
Because of the post-hypnotic suggestion that Dr. Bishop had left in him, when Cree went to sleep, Ethan stayed away. Usually he was bored and decided to sleep too, unless he could find something to entertain himself with. But right then, he decided to stay awake. Because he had been present the entire time and knew this shrink dude wanted to talk to him. And hey, why not. Could be amusing.
Although it was Cree's body, Ethan's posture and way of carrying himself was different. He sat up, without the slouched shoulders, spreading his arms along the back of the couch. A lazy look took over his face, pale blue eyes much sharper than they ever were with Cree. His voice was not quiet or nervous as he drawled out, "What's up.... Doc?"
As Ethan took over, Dante quickly jotted down notes. Body language and even slight changes in his appearance. Had Dante not have spoken to Cree only moments before and witnessed this transformation, he might have thought it was another person entirely. "The ceiling," he responded as a lame joke and then smiled, "So nice of you to join me, Ethan." He studied the boy a bit longer, rubbed his hand over his chin a bit and his hand quickly writing a little more.
"And how are you doing? Comfortable, I take it?" he asked politely.
"Yes well, not much else to do, is there?" Ethan asked, rolling his eyes at the lame joke even though his own had been just as bad. But it had been his. Which made all the difference in the world.
"Comfortable as I can be." He shrugged as much as he was able with his arms stretched out the way that they were, settled in like he owned the couch. The sofa was comfortable. He was comfortable. But he wasn't peachy keen jelly bean because, well, he was stuck in the body of a pussy. "So, whaddya want, Doc?" he asked, cocking his head to the side in question.
The first thing that Dante noticed was his use of 'I' rather than 'we'. That was an interesting change, but it showed how little Cree's presence was with Ethan. When Ethan was in charge, Cree wasn't there. Probably at all. "What do I want? Well, you could start off by telling me about yourself...before you were...implanted in Cree's mind. A little back history, how you feel about Cree as a whole, and anything else you might want to divulge? Patient/doctor privileges, I'll treat you separately than Cree, despite the fact you pretty much just sat in through his part of the evaluation."
Ethan snorted. "What do you want to know? Whether I was a straight-A student or a delinquint?" he asked with a smirk. Just guess which category he fell into! "I was a psychic. Mind-control. Made people do things for me. Cree was one of them. He was so fucking easy to manipulate. Just a smile and he thought I was his best fucking friend." It had been amusing at the time. Now it was annoying because he was stuck in Cree's head, had to listen to his thoughts all the time. Lucky he was sleeping right now.
"There was an accident and I got stuck in here." He flicked fingers toward his head. Cree's head.
"Describe the accident to me. In detail," he said glancing up at Ethan only once. He tapped his pen against the top of the pad and tilted this head, "And I don't want to know exactly what you're wearing, but the events leading up to, what you remember before and then after. When you figured out you could control Cree's body, etcetera etcetera." He waved his hand a little to mean he wanted all of that.
Ethan sighed and rolled his eyes. "Boring," he informed the shrink, and he waved a hand, making a little rolling motion with it before he started to talk. "Long story short. I do mind control. I was making Cree do things. I decided to make him rob a bank to get some cash. He went in, I waited outside. He came out. Someone had called the cops. Cops started shooting. I still had hooks in Cree's mind at the time, if you will. I got shot. A kill shot. So I clung on to his mind and..." He trailed off. Shrugged. "Cree got shot too. When he woke up in the hospital, I was there too. In his head. And voila. There you have it."
Dante's pen scratched against the paper furiously as he wrote down not just the basics of what Ethan said but also some small notes on the side of Mind Control and some studies he'd have to do in some books. An attachment like that was difficult and seemed like an anomaly and were he the type to do tests on actual people. "The most fascinating part of this is that before Cree was able to be influenced and subjected to psychic abilities and now...nothing. Zilch." He chewed on the cap of his pen for a moment, eyes narrowed and then he wrote a couple more things down.
"On a scale of one to ten, one being the least, and ten obviously being the most, how would you rate your...frustration with your current situation?" he paused allowing Ethan to speak.
"And I can't use my mind control," Ethan added with a look of distaste. "It's as though they cancelled each other out." Some how, Cree's normal mind and his psychic one and melded together to form a null. It was probably interesting to someone who cared about those type of things.
He lifted his eyebrows. What kind of question was that. "A million," he said sarcastically. "Ten. It's a ten. I'm stuck in the body of a little pansy who never does anything fun. He sits around and does puzzles and watches sissy movies. He doesn't drink, he doesn't fight, he doesn't have sex. Nothing."
"So that's why you let it be abused, correct?" he somewhat concluded, "Your torture for Cree." Since he not only didn't have a body of his own, but his ability to use his ability was stolen, no...taken. Lost? It was almost amusing in a sense and a sweet bit of revenge, but Dante kept that thought to himself. But the smile on his face he didn't bother hiding, because it was pointless.
"Were Cree to have his uses in the future that would be less of the sitting around and doing nothing, would you be less likely to abuse him?"
Ethan shrugged. "It's funny watching Cree get in difficult situations. Letting him get hurt." No skin off his back, even if he felt the pain that Cree felt. Felt whatever Cree felt. "I've got to find something to do with myself." And since he was stuck in the body, mostly all he could do was try and cause trouble for Cree.
His head cocked, considering. "Maybe. Depends. I don't take well to orders." Surprise, surprise. "But I could do with doing something. He hardly even leaves his room. He's scared of some of the people here." Smirk.
"Oh, I can't imagine why," Dante returned sarcastically, "Stargate isn't exactly known for offering a warm homey environment. Some however manage to keep a sense of innocence, which is rather surprising." Usually those that arrived at Stargate had a crude awakening to the world's judgement on psychics or just to the world itself. Some cowered, most that came to Stargate did something about it. "I would hope you can take orders well though, because it'll probably be the only way you'll be able to do much of anything."
Dante was still smiling, "They tend to expect that. Obedience, and well...disobedience might get Cree in trouble, but there are ways of getting around that. Physical abuse doesn't have to be the way or the answer at all times. No matter what some others may think." His own ability had little to do with anything physical, but it had no affect on Cree. Ethan. But even still, it was a matter of playing the game right. More interviews with Ethan would probably open up more to Dante, allowing his own arsenal to grow should Ethan's constant misuse of Cree's body continue.
"Just take into consideration the gravity of the situation you're in and where you are, and maybe, just maybe, they won't have to keep you locked up so much," a smile and then a click of his pen. "The drug should be wearing off soon and waking Cree won't be a difficult task. Which means a partial farewell to you."
"You mean I should play nice?" Ethan asked with a chuckle. "I don't know, that doesn't sound like a lot of fun to me." The thing was, he had a bit of immunity and he knew it. Because people weren't going to hurt Cree because of what he did. Unless he did something to piss off the Big Boss. But he'd never even spoken to them. Or Cree hadn't.
He could almost feel it, the little bit of stirring in the back of his mind - back of Cree's mind - that was Cree starting to rouse. Damnit. "Alright, alright. Guess I'll catch you later, Doc."
He sighed, lazing back against the sofa as Cree started to wake and Ethan slipped to the side of the mind.
Dante watched the change in the posture, the way that Ethan seemed to slither back and a drowsy Cree was coming to the surface. This was his last interview. He'd do a few more questions with Cree and then have a chat with Smith. About everyone. Nobody really was that much of a concern, not even Ethan. Dante didn't like to let things like that trouble him too much. Well, maybe Benito could cause problems in the future, and Ethan should he struggle to take command and shove Cree back when he was conscious. But they weren't quite to that point yet.
"Welcome back, Cree," he spoke politely and served the boy a glass of water, "Drink."