Tara knocks on Jonathan's door. They've decided to do therapy once a fortnight, rather than once a week, because it's really very emotionally draining for Tara and takes, zomg, so long to play out. The advantage - or perhaps the disadvantage - of that, is that she gets a chance to build her mental walls back up again, make sure her memories are locked firmly behind that iron door in her mind.
Jonathan opens the door only enough to poke his head through with a tentative smile for Tara.
"I'm letting you know right now, that I fully expect you to hate me today... okay?" he says to her, before opening the door fully. SHe can now clearly see the posters on every single inch of space in the room, "If it progresses to physical violence though, I'd appreciate if you went with hits to my body, as my glasses break almost as easily as my face.
The way her eyes widen, the pallor of her skin... she's a textbook reaction. Perfect.
"It's a lot. We're flooding you and that's kind of the point. But I have some things for you," he tells her, moving to the coffee table and picking up something. It's a pink sleep mask, softy padded and with a blue band, "This is for later, when we do the audio stimulation. I think it would be to much for you to have to see all this," and he waves his hand at the room, "while listening as well."
"This," he tells her bringing out a huge stuffed bear, "is for you as well. You're a very tactile person and I thought you might want something to hold onto. Squeeze, fiddle with. It has more substance than your scarf and... I'm never going to use it so I thought we could use it in your sessions. If you want.
Also, I want you to know that at any point in this you don't want to anymore just say so and the session ends. Okay?"
She was so unlike herself that day, turning up in a leather jacket, and she'd never worn leather before, as if the almost indestructible material could shield her from the consequences of her choice.
"Black magic," she whispers. Black like her eyes, her hair, the wraith that rose when she fell.
Jonathan reaches out to her, stroking over her hair, "Tara? I didn't mean to upset you. I don't even know if she did anything, I was just trying to make sense of your behavior. Are you going to be okay?"
"You were right," she whispers, voice cracked and hoarse from her sobbing. "It makes sense. I... oh, god, Jonathan. If I hadn't gone back to her then, I'd... I'd still be alive..."
"Tara, I'm not much of a believer in 'things happening for a reason' but, after you died, you were sent to Fandom by The Powers. And there you found Shane and Kate and the family you deserve, have always deserved... it kind of makes me rethink all of that. Because it kind of did all seem to happen for a reason.
And even if it didn't... everything that happened, led you to the life you're living right now. It's all led to here. Shane and Kate love you, your family loves you. That's what's important. Not what she did, not the things that, in her selfishness, she was capable of doing to you."
Tara nods against Jonathan's chest before pulling away a little, her breathing evening out. "I know. That's... that's what makes it so hard. Because I've always hated that Willow got so lost, but how can I hate that when in the end, it was what brought me to Shane? And that feels so unfair to Willow, and to the people she hurt
( ... )
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"I'm letting you know right now, that I fully expect you to hate me today... okay?" he says to her, before opening the door fully. SHe can now clearly see the posters on every single inch of space in the room, "If it progresses to physical violence though, I'd appreciate if you went with hits to my body, as my glasses break almost as easily as my face.
This is phase two of your therapy. Is it okay?"
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Everywhere. Everywhere she looks, but she can't close her eyes.
She wouldn't hit Jonathan, she trusts him implicitly, but this... so much.
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"It's a lot. We're flooding you and that's kind of the point. But I have some things for you," he tells her, moving to the coffee table and picking up something. It's a pink sleep mask, softy padded and with a blue band, "This is for later, when we do the audio stimulation. I think it would be to much for you to have to see all this," and he waves his hand at the room, "while listening as well."
"This," he tells her bringing out a huge stuffed bear, "is for you as well. You're a very tactile person and I thought you might want something to hold onto. Squeeze, fiddle with. It has more substance than your scarf and... I'm never going to use it so I thought we could use it in your sessions. If you want.
Also, I want you to know that at any point in this you don't want to anymore just say so and the session ends. Okay?"
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"Black magic," she whispers. Black like her eyes, her hair, the wraith that rose when she fell.
Jonathan reaches out to her, stroking over her hair, "Tara? I didn't mean to upset you. I don't even know if she did anything, I was just trying to make sense of your behavior. Are you going to be okay?"
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And even if it didn't... everything that happened, led you to the life you're living right now. It's all led to here. Shane and Kate love you, your family loves you. That's what's important. Not what she did, not the things that, in her selfishness, she was capable of doing to you."
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