damned_institute | Day 46: Doctor's Office 10 (Dr. Burroughs) [Second Shift]

Entry tags:

jamie,
maggie

Day 46: Doctor's Office 10 (Dr. Burroughs) [Second Shift]

If anyone was trying to make up for their sick-leave like no other, it was Maggie. How the hell did she manage to miss an entire week of work? And then the revise in the schedule this week had her tripping up even more. On top of that, there was an influx of new doctors, new patients, and an influx of released patients and doctors that weren't here anymore.

Every moment she had was spent pouring over her new files, putting away the ones she'd (weirdly enough) miss working on, and getting to know her new co-workers. How could so much change in a week here that it left her this disoriented?

And of course, the only other doctor she got on friendly terms with was gone. Thanks for the memories, Dr. Washu.

But in her mad-dash to get caught up, she lost track of time. Jesus, was it second shift already? Dr. Burroughs poured herself another cup of coffee, cleared her desk, and pulled out a single file for now: Zahm, Jacob.

"Here's to a new week..."

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Jamie was not pleased to learn that he was scheduled for another therapy session. It was a given, even though he had been assigned to a different doctor than the one he'd had previously, that this one was going to keep asking about his split personality, and now that Wild Eagle was a constant, almost overwhelming presence in Jamie's head, he felt almost irrationally afraid of his condition being exposed.

Before, he could have just shrugged off the questioning - there was no proof of his other personality and, Jamie thought, little chance of it manifesting while he was here - but the Eagle had proven already that he was more than capable of taking control of their body now that he'd been drawn out of whatever mental space he was usually contained in, and Jamie didn't need him confirming anyone's suspicions that he was, in any way, mentally defective.

Jamie, knowing resistance was futile, shuffled into the office with little prodding when the nurse led him there and hovered in the doorway, eying his new doctor warily. Wild Eagle kept silent for the time being, taking his own measure of the woman behind the desk.

Oh, there he was. Maggie gave the boy a tiny, reassuring smile as he entered the room, pushing her cup of coffee to the side for now. That was the look she never really got over; that awkward, unhappy look they'd give her every time they first saw her, like they were sizing her up. With their delusions, she couldn't blame them.

She was in this for the long haul, though, and if she wanted to help him get better, he had to trust her first.

"Would you like to sit down, Jacob?" she offered as she stood from her seat to gesture at the chair in front of her desk. "Or do you prefer if I call you Jamie for now?"

"Either's fine," he replied. He didn't particularly like being called by a name that wasn't his (at this, Wild Eagle chuffed bitterly), but maybe if he didn't insist on what they thought of as his made-up name he'd look a little less disconnected from the reality they were trying to force onto him.

It wasn't easy, between the Eagle's still-uncomfortable mental presence and Jamie's unease about being here in the first place, but he managed to rein in some of his apprehension and school his features into a marginally more neutral expression as he took the chair the doctor had indicated. Once seated, he clasped his hands between his knees and watched her with a sort of expectant resignation, waiting for her to get on with probing his psyche.

"Alright, Jamie." Her smile grew a little as she sat back down. "I'm Dr. Burroughs. You can feel free to call me Maggie, though."

He was still giving her that look. It was a little sad how distant some of these patients could be when under so much stress. Hopefully this session would warm him up a little; she wasn't going to be pressuring him with anything too heavy too soon.

"Well, if it's okay with you," she began, reclaiming her coffee and leaning back in her chair to listen, "I'd like you to tell me a little more about yourself. Don't worry about what you think I want to hear, okay? I'll even tell you a little about myself if it makes you feel more comfortable."

The request surprised Jamie, and he paused, shifting a little. Despite her encouragement, he was very much aware that telling her the truth about his life back home would only support the idea that he was ravingly insane; the problem was that he didn't know enough details about the life they'd made up for him here to bluff his way through this kind of conversation, and he wasn't entirely sure what aspects of his experience might be considered normal in this world. He'd have to proceed carefully, he guessed.

"...um. Well, I uh...I'm sixteen," he started haltingly. "I, um...like to cook and...work with machines. I got pretty good marks in all my compulsory education..." He paused again, realizing with dismay that there were very few areas of his life that didn't somehow involve giant robot animals, which he knew would not be a safe topic to be broached in this conversation.

Wild Eagle, meanwhile, was giving Jamie the mental equivalent of a dull stare. ...Jesus. How the hell did I get stuck with such a fuckin' lameass sissy nerdboy?

Jamie twitched a little at the invective, but otherwise didn't react, offering Dr. Burroughs a brief, uneasy grin.

It always interested her how often her patients never wanted to give her too much information. From the way some of the other doctors had put it, these people were all sick beyond help, all deranged blabber balls with no sense of proportion or grip on reality. And yet every single one of them acted ashamed the moment she asked them about themselves. Every one of them never wanted to share, like they were afraid she would immediately judge them.

These people weren't hopeless. They weren't deranged and they weren't completely and utterly unhinged. They knew what was happening. They knew they were sick. They just needed reassurance.

So she nodded her head. "I've heard about that. It's too bad they don't let the patients in the kitchen. If I have the time, maybe I can ask around about it. If you keep up the good behavior, that is."

Sigh. She was going to have to take a chance somewhere. May as well be here.

"And what about Eagle? What does he like?"

"Who?" Though he supposed it was a futile gesture, Jamie tried feigning ignorance as best he could, regarding the doctor with a frown and a furrowed brow. Wild Eagle snorted again, irritably this time, and gave Jamie a half-hearted mental prod. Yeah, you go ahead and keep pretendin' I don't exist. Asshole. His tone lacked much of the venom it usually contained under similar circumstances, though; he didn't seem to trust Burroughs any more than Jamie did.

Somehow, she thought that would work out better. No point getting too disheartened now, though...

"Eagle," she said again, casually fingering the edge of a manila folder on her desk. "Does he like the same things you do?" She paused, frowning, yet keeping her voice as reassuring as it normally was. "If you don't want to talk about it, just tell me. We can talk about whatever you like."

Jamie shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I just...dunno where people keep getting that from, 's all. The other doctor said something about it too."

He fidgeted a little, rubbing the knuckle of one thumb with the other, and glanced back at Burroughs. "I don't...really have anything I wanna talk about right now. What do you wanna talk about?" Besides Wild Eagle, of course...

He was uncomfortable with this, that was obvious enough. Maybe it was better to move onto something else for now.

"What about how you've been doing recently? Have you been making any friends?"

The idea of making friends here seemed strange to Jamie. There was no harm in trying to get along with people, of course, and he needed people he could trust to help find a way to escape from here, but calling them friends suggested something...long-term. Jamie didn't want to be here any longer than he had to.

"There's some nice people here, yeah. I got along pretty good with my old roommate," he said, and then frowned a little. "But he's gone now, him and some of the other people I met." That worried him; while he hoped they'd just somehow gotten back to their homes, he couldn't be sure that they weren't dead or trapped somewhere else in the institute where no one could find them.

"It's always sad to lose a friend, especially in a place like this." She sympathized with him. Even if it was for the better, some people just got jaded after they perceive everyone as abandoning them. Hopefully Jacob wasn't that type.

"What about your new roommate?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "Do you get along with him?

Especially in a place like this. One corner of Jamie's mouth twitched upward in the barest hint of what might have been a bitter half-smirk. Burroughs didn't know the half of it, he thought, a sentiment that Eagle, for once, agreed with.

"I haven't really had a roommate since Tokito," he said in response to her question, lifting one shoulder in a light shrug. "But I've been meeting a lot of people during the day that're pretty nice, mostly. And I don't really notice that there's no one there at night. I'm used to having a room to myself, anyway." And a mind to himself, but that didn't bear mentioning.

She paused for a moment as he spoke, taking a slow sip of her coffee. It was nice no one was being too harsh on the poor kid. The Recovery House could sometimes be a rowdy place and she had a feeling this one was no different, no matter the funding.

Once she put down her cup, she spoke again. "Would it make you uncomfortable to have a roommate after losing your old one so soon?"

"Not...really," Jamie said, tone guarded. He paused, trying to figure out if there was a catch to this question, and then added, "...should it make me uncomfortable?"

Dr. Burroughs smiled again at that. "Not really." That was good, then. The last thing he needed was another stress when he had his own to work out.

Speaking of that.

"I want you to start keeping a journal." It would be a start, at least. The more he could focus and write down what he thought was important, the easier it would be for them to work on what he needed help with. Maybe a simpler thing in the therapy box, but it worked. "If you already are, that's okay. You don't have to worry about me reading it either; this is purely for you and no one else. Just whatever comes to mind, any problems you may be having, anything you may want to talk about the next coming sessions. Is that okay with you?"

I think the whole "being trapped in a nuthouse where weird shit happens at night and no one can escape" counts as a problem. Think you can do anything about that, Doc? Eagle sneered. Jamie fidgeted, reflexively jerking up a hand as though to swat the alter away before restraining himself, idly scratching his cheek instead. His eyes flicked up nervously to see if Burroughs had noticed the tic.

"Um, a journal. Sure, that'd be okay. I can do that," Jamie conceded a little hurriedly.

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Day 46: Doctor's Office 10 (Dr. Burroughs) [Second Shift]

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