Time for a talk

Posted on Sat Feb 13th, 2010 @ 6:29am by Lieutenant JG Hannah Andeti & Commander Michael Evans M.D.

Mission: Episode 1.1 - "Now Boarding"
Location: Counselor's Office
Timeline: MD03, 1300

Hannah pulled the last book from the box and slid it into place on the shelf beside her desk. The office was smaller than she had been used to on the Tethys, but as she had already experienced with the arboretum, what she was losing in professional space was definitely made up for in personal amenities. She stretched, feeling the cool air on her arms and neck which were covered in a sheen of sweat from unpacking. There were empty boxes strewn around, but overall the job was done and the counselor decided that she had earned herself a little break. She was part way to the replicator when the chime rang and she called for the visitor to enter.

Michael entered but halted after a couple of steps, not coming all the way into the room. The door closed as he stood in the same spot, looking around. Attempting to appear relaxed and conversational he said quite benignly, "Getting settled in I see." He was fidgeting a little with his hands clasped in front of him.

The counselor grinned when she saw who it was and slowed her track to the replicator. "Trying to." She reached towards the couch and pulled the boxes resting there onto the floor. "You look like you need a coffee," she offered.

"Er, yeah," he replied. "Sounds good. Thanks."

The steaming mugs appeared and Hannah picked them both up, handing one of them to the doctor as he took a seat on the couch. She moved over to her own chair and moved the empty box off of it, then dropped into it. "How's sickbay coming along?" She asked. The doctor looked like he needed to talk but he also looked nervous and she didn't want to jump into anything too serious right off the bat. Not until he was comfortable.

"Oh, you know... as might be expected, I guess," Michael said. "Winchester's got the Auxilliary Sickbay snapping-to with her usual efficiency, Haelen's fussing around Main Sickbay, the medics are having fun reorganizing the emergency teams, and the nurses are caught between everyone else. All is well." He still hadn't tried his coffee yet, but sat holding the mug cupped in his hands as though trying to get some comfort from its warmth.

Hannah chuckled. "I'm glad to see you've managed to escape alive." She sipped her coffee and a moment passed.

Michael stared at the wisps of steam rising from his mug. He then took a breath and said, "Hannah... Counselor, I think I need to t-talk about something. It... I usually avoid the subject, not because I'm ashamed or anything, I mean I'm willing to answer questions and talk about it, but I just don't usually bring it up..." Michael realized he was now babbling a bit, so he paused and took a breath. "I am, of course, half V-Vulcan. On my father's side," he gestured with one hand. "I never held it against him... not being there I mean... that is, I understand. But, still..." he left the sentence hanging, letting the silence imply meaning.

"I thought I'd dealt with it. I mean I have been dealing with it," he said, finally getting to the point. "But, I've been having this dream lately, almost every night..." He told Counselor Andeti about the dream with the klingons and the vulcan robe and the outdated medical equipment. "I feel very disturbed when I wake up. Anxious." He was still looking at his mug, the coffee steaming unsipped. "Anyways, um... I was wondering... what do you think?" He looked up and met her eyes, a vulnerable concern on his face.

The counselor was surprised by the doctor's candor. He had never spoken with her about his family before and although she had been curious, she hadn't expected him to be comfortable enough with her to bring it up. She thought about what he'd said for a moment and sipped her coffee. "You say you've been dealing with the issues you have about your father, how have you been dealing with them?"

Michael sat up a little straighter. "Well," he began, "my Grampa Caradoc has always been like a father to me. He encouraged me to become the person I am today. I've never met my actual father. Since he chose to ignore me, I have respected that and chosen to ignore him. Thus I am who I choose to be and not what society expects me to be." His response was very clean, almost rote.

Michael still hadn't drank any of his coffee.

Hannah watched the doctor as he spoke. "It's natural for you to have some anger towards him and to still be hurt from his abandonment, however well you've dealt with the practical aspects of his absence," she began. After his initial honesty he had started to return to his facade of unaffected calm, she wanted to keep him away from that. "The images in that dream certainly imply anger, frustration and a feeling of inadequacy in the very least. Do you think that's a pretty accurate description of your feelings towards your father?"

"Well... sure, I've always resented his absence I guess," he said matter-of-factly. His closed posture belied his emotional discomfort, despite the baldness of the statement. He sat upright with his elbows in, holding his mug in his lap with both hands. "But I've accepted those feelings. They're very typical and I acknowledge them."

"I'm glad that you know it's normal to feel that way, I just wonder if you have been suppressing those feelings." She sipped her own cooling coffee, watching the Doctor's still full mug. This was a difficult thing to explain and she wanted to get it right. "It's one thing to know that you feel something and quite another to let yourself be angry, to not try to hold that feeling back. Negative emotions like anger aren't exactly fun but sometimes you need to let yourself feel them in order to forgive and start to move on."

He cocked his head to one side as he considered. He remembered the days spent by the lake as a boy in the Welsh countryside; throwing stones in frustration, running himself to exhaustion in anger, screaming his loneliness into the silent hills until he was hoarse. After a time, as he grew older, he realized that the impotent rage and self-pity accomplished nothing. He didn't stop feeling it, rather he chose to simply acknowledge its presence and then move on; like two adversaries passing in the street, each giving the other a curt nod of acknowledgement, both respecting the dangerous nature of the other but choosing to postpone engagement for another, perhaps more appropriate, day.

As he sat in the Counselor's office he considered what he currently felt. There was some pain, yes; but no longer was it as clearly definable. Rather it was a more ambiguous hurt, long disconnected from his now adult self. He no longer needed a father as a boy. Did he need a father as a man?

He sat in silence, for he had no way to answer Hannah.

She studied the doctor before speaking. "What made you assume that this dream was about your father?"

He gave a quick shrug, his initial reaction to give an evasive 'I don't know', but stayed himself. Why would he assume the dream was about his father? "I've always made a point to detach myself from my Vulcan heritage," he said. A hand reached up to touch his ear, "My ears make it difficult; people expect a certain manner from me..." The hand dropped back to his lap. "In the dream, I felt as self-conscious about wearing that Vulcan robe as I do about my ears. It felt very... conspicuous."

He thought again. "The thing is, I'm not so sure the dream is about my father... or my heritage for that matter. I made a connect between the robe and my ears... but the klingons? I'm not so sure about them. And I still haven't figured out the medical instruments for sure. I don't know," he said as he shook his head. He blinked and sighed deeply, taking a sip of his coffee. "It's just that I've been having it so frequently, and I feel so anxious when I wake." He shrugged again as he took another sip.

"You mentioned before that you had been feeling anxious and uncomfortable ever since returning from the planet. Do you think this dream might be related to what happened down there?"

Michael pondered, searching within. "I don't see how," he said slowly and carefully. "I mean, I was a little shaken by the Reman attack," he said, "but aside from that..." He gave a small, helpless shrug. "And yet..." He grimaced, gave a shrug, and sipped his coffee before continuing. "I have this feeling like they might be connected, but I can't imagine what that connection would be," he said, looking at Hannah.

The counselor considered whether or not to open up to Michael about her own recent memories, wondering if this might have something to do with the alternate timeline that nobody else seemed to remember anything about. Other than Earlond she was keeping this distinctly private, but if it might help him she had to put her patient -- and her friend -- before her own comfort level. "Michael, did you meet with Special Agents Lucsly and Dulmer when we were on shoreleave?"

Michael blinked. "Well yes, of course. The entire away team was debriefed by them," he said. "I didn't like them much," he gave a half-smirk, half-grimace. He lifted his mug, then paused before it reached his lips and looked at Hannah a little sideways. "Why?"

She leaned forward in her chair, cupping her own cooling mug. "Well, then you must be aware that they suspected there was some kind of . . . temporal event. I have reason to believe that there absolutely was a temporal event." She smiled. "Could it be possible that this dream had something to do with what happened in the alternate timeline and . . . actually has nothing to do with your father?"

Michael finished the rest of his coffee with a couple more thoughtful sips. "It's absolutely possible," he said with raised eyebrow. "Two questions come to mind though: how probable is it that my dream is related, and how provable is it?"

"The degree of probability jumps considerably with the involvement of the Time Team," he made a face again and jerked his head, indicating the Temporal Investigators. "But provability..." He left the sentence hanging.

"Probability wise, I would say it's pretty probable. If it weren't for other reports of strange dreams and a general sense of malaise by some of the crew I would have attributed this to your feelings for your father, and it's still possible that that's where this is coming from, but the best judge is obviously you and you seem to feel this is the more likely source. I'm prone to trusting you about that. Would you like a refill?" Hannah motioned towards his empty cup.

Michael held out his mug with an appreciative smile.

She smiled, realizing that she had glossed over her own experiences with the alternate timeline, but then decided the Doctor deserved her honesty. She continued to speak as she made her way over to the replicator. "As for provability, I'm not sure. I've actually been experiencing a number of unexplainable memories in the past few days. Nothing that might explain your dream, unfortunately, but we can't deny that the possibility of retrieving these memories is there. I don't know much . . . technically speaking about how to retrieve memories, I've been more focused on blocking them out and barring contacting the Temporal Agents for assistance I'm not sure what we can do." She paused for a moment. "You're sure you want to know what happened?" She was aware that her voice was tense. "I can tell you from experience that having false memories turning up is," she shook her head. "Not pleasant."

Michael thought for a long moment, then heaved a sigh. "No, I'm not sure I do want to know," he said. "Especially if it means the Time Team will show up on my doorstep again," he gave a wry smile. "But if these dreams continue..." He shook his head.

Michael glanced at a chronometer display and gave a slight groan. He'd spent more time in here than he thought. "I need to be going," he said as he stood. He looked her in the eye as he said, "Thanks for everything," his tone implying more than the coffee.

"Anytime." She smiled, seeing the doctor to the door. "I'll look into what sort of things other people have done to deal with temporal hangovers like this so if the dreams continue we can do something about them. Without Temporal Investigations, that is." She watched Michael as he left the room, hoping she had helped and curious to see what would happen to this dream.

OFF

A Joint Post by:

Lt. Cmdr. Michael Evans
CMO / 2XO
USS Pandora

and

Lt. (jg) Hannah Andeti
Chief Counselor
USS Pandora