Amelia Royer (Ronsam) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rogueinladysclothing) wrote2021-05-17 07:11 pm
rogueinladysclothing) wrote2021-05-17 07:11 pm
Entry tags:
And The Need For Violence Comes Again [Transformation 3/x]
Sometimes it's easy to forget why the two of us are sitting down together. For an hour once a week, Doctor Ravner and I are two adults talking about my goals, my passions, and those I care about most in the multiverse. She's interested in knowing more about me and my life, but not so emotionally invested that it upsets or disrupts her if I say I don't want to talk about a specific person or thing. It's a business transaction, if an unusual one, and we both know and understand this.
"Tell me about Steve Rogers."
Then she'll ask me something I'm not ready to answer or talk about, and doesn't let go.
"No." There's no hesitation when I tell her this. I have struggled for so long after losing Steve three times, and I'm done dealing with it.
The doctor looks at me with a face so calm it makes me uncomfortable. "Why don't you want to talk about him? He was a large part of your life, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was, and he isn't anymore. So there's nothing to talk about." I cross my arms in front of my chest, exhale a frustrated sigh, and look away from the doctor. It takes a lot of effort not to reach up and touch my hairpin. My pain must be obvious right now, but that doesn't seem to deter Doctor Ravner. If anything, her next words feel like they're designed to make me hurt more.
"If his loss from your life didn't pain you, you wouldn't hide from the topic the way you do. If you don't want to talk to me about him today, then we don't talk about him today, but I'll ask again next week. And then the week after that, and the week after that, and so on, until you talk to me."
Was I really hiding, then? Am I hiding? Steve died, left me alone multiple times, and now is... not there, even as his body walks around the Nexus when he's not on his new world. I was already breaking all of my own traditions thinking and speaking his name, and I didn't want to keep doing it. I hurt, I'd been hurt, by him and those around him who had a hand in making him what he is today. I deserve to hold onto that.
I deserve the satisfaction of my anger.
My grip on my arms tightened as we sat in a tense silence. My breathing was shallow, my muscles contracted, and I felt that itch for violence that hadn't pulled at me in months. I resolved to do something physical to push through it after my session with Doctor Ravner ended when, suddenly, she spoke.
"You're angry."
I looked up at her with a quizzical, if still frustrated look on my face.
"I can see it in your body language. Something about my asking after Steve has upset you, or reminded you of something that angered you. What is it?"
For several minutes, I couldn't answer. My breath stuck in my chest, my throat tightened. I didn't want to tell her, but I also... did. When the words finally came, they hurt my body as much as they did my heart.
"They lied to me about him, about what happened to him." I paused for a few breaths, and the doctor waited patiently. "I-I don't want... I can't get through it now, but people I thought I could trust lied to me, and I can't let that go. Not with how things stand. Not when Steve died, but is still... here."
Silence fell between us again, but Doctor Ravner didn't wait long before speaking again.
"Write it down," she told me. "Every detail, from start to finish. From the first time you met Steve until today, write me that story. We'll talk about it at your next session."
It took a few moments for the instruction to set in. "You want me to write it for you?"
She nodded and offered one of those pleasant, sympathetic smiles. "You know the story, but for me to understand and for you to process, I need to hear it. If you write it down, you can read it to me, word for word, next week. Then, we can break it down and work our way through it."
I slowly released my arms and nodded, getting to my feet when the doctor did. She bid me a good day as she sent me off with a smile, and the weight of what I'd been tasked with settled in my chest.
So I'll... do it. Somehow. I may not sleep once I start, but I've been given a task and I'll see it through. Dreams, I truly don't know if I can do this, but I have to try anyway.
After I find an outlet for my hurt that isn't my blades.
"Tell me about Steve Rogers."
Then she'll ask me something I'm not ready to answer or talk about, and doesn't let go.
"No." There's no hesitation when I tell her this. I have struggled for so long after losing Steve three times, and I'm done dealing with it.
The doctor looks at me with a face so calm it makes me uncomfortable. "Why don't you want to talk about him? He was a large part of your life, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was, and he isn't anymore. So there's nothing to talk about." I cross my arms in front of my chest, exhale a frustrated sigh, and look away from the doctor. It takes a lot of effort not to reach up and touch my hairpin. My pain must be obvious right now, but that doesn't seem to deter Doctor Ravner. If anything, her next words feel like they're designed to make me hurt more.
"If his loss from your life didn't pain you, you wouldn't hide from the topic the way you do. If you don't want to talk to me about him today, then we don't talk about him today, but I'll ask again next week. And then the week after that, and the week after that, and so on, until you talk to me."
Was I really hiding, then? Am I hiding? Steve died, left me alone multiple times, and now is... not there, even as his body walks around the Nexus when he's not on his new world. I was already breaking all of my own traditions thinking and speaking his name, and I didn't want to keep doing it. I hurt, I'd been hurt, by him and those around him who had a hand in making him what he is today. I deserve to hold onto that.
I deserve the satisfaction of my anger.
My grip on my arms tightened as we sat in a tense silence. My breathing was shallow, my muscles contracted, and I felt that itch for violence that hadn't pulled at me in months. I resolved to do something physical to push through it after my session with Doctor Ravner ended when, suddenly, she spoke.
"You're angry."
I looked up at her with a quizzical, if still frustrated look on my face.
"I can see it in your body language. Something about my asking after Steve has upset you, or reminded you of something that angered you. What is it?"
For several minutes, I couldn't answer. My breath stuck in my chest, my throat tightened. I didn't want to tell her, but I also... did. When the words finally came, they hurt my body as much as they did my heart.
"They lied to me about him, about what happened to him." I paused for a few breaths, and the doctor waited patiently. "I-I don't want... I can't get through it now, but people I thought I could trust lied to me, and I can't let that go. Not with how things stand. Not when Steve died, but is still... here."
Silence fell between us again, but Doctor Ravner didn't wait long before speaking again.
"Write it down," she told me. "Every detail, from start to finish. From the first time you met Steve until today, write me that story. We'll talk about it at your next session."
It took a few moments for the instruction to set in. "You want me to write it for you?"
She nodded and offered one of those pleasant, sympathetic smiles. "You know the story, but for me to understand and for you to process, I need to hear it. If you write it down, you can read it to me, word for word, next week. Then, we can break it down and work our way through it."
I slowly released my arms and nodded, getting to my feet when the doctor did. She bid me a good day as she sent me off with a smile, and the weight of what I'd been tasked with settled in my chest.
So I'll... do it. Somehow. I may not sleep once I start, but I've been given a task and I'll see it through. Dreams, I truly don't know if I can do this, but I have to try anyway.
After I find an outlet for my hurt that isn't my blades.