A Monday Session (4/17 afternoon)

[master_of_fear]

After weeks and weeks of 16 hour days and then his week in the hospital, it's nice to have his work schedule back into something more managable. It gives him time to concentrate on his studies, visit with friends and most importantly, start seeing his patients. CJ had been easy to fit in and as per the mun's decision they'd been meeting handwavily

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[brambless]

Tara knocks on the door, eager to begin their therapy sessions again, but conscious that much has changed since the last time they talked, after Zsasz's attack.

At the very least she needs to tell him about the Powers.

[master_of_fear]

"Hey Tara," he says, opening the door for her, "I was thinking we could pick up where we left off? Or did you have something else in mind?"

He gestures to the posters, in explanation of what he means

[brambless]

The posters.

Somehow she'd managed to block those out. Wishful thinking, perhaps, though she knows this is helping her.

"Um... yeah, sure," she replies. "Except... could we, um... could we just talk for a bit, first? Some things have happened recently and... and I kind of need to tell you about them. Or want to. If, um... if that's okay?"

[master_of_fear]

"Of course," he replies, "This is your session Tara, whatever you want to do, we'll do. Would you prefer we talked for a bit in the kitchen? You won't be able to see the posters in there."

[master_of_fear]

"There will be cake," Tara assures him. "I'm going to make it myself. And I will bring you a piece. Two pieces."

Actual gunfire. She doesn't know if she can handle it, but... "I'll try?"

Back firmly against the couch, couch firmly against the wall, and nobody can get her from behind. Except that some bullets go straight through walls.

"I can't promise anything. But... but I'll try."

He clicks the recorder to 'Play', pressing the button with the green triangle and setting it down on his coffee table.

"Okay Tara, Last time, we were talking about how you didn't feel safe, especially not when you're happy," he says and just as he finishes the 't' sound on 'not' the sound of a gun goes off, one single shot, "With your upcoming hadfasting," a series of three rapid fire shots, "How are you feeling?"

[brambless]

Tara jumps a mile with the first shot, her fists clenching so hard she cries out in pain, and she doesn't hear his question, doesn't process it.

She knows what it is, he prepared her for that, but that doesn't quell the urge to look around wildly, and all of a sudden the dozens of gun posters up on the wall take on a more ominous note than they had a few moments before.

She wants to cast a protective circle, but that would do her no good against a real bullet.

"I... I'm s-sorry," she stutters, ducking her head as she tries to still the frantic beating of her heat. "W-w-w-what did you s-say?"

[master_of_fear]

Remembering how Tara liked to hold onto things when she was emotionally stressed, Jonathan stands up, leaving the recording playing. Opening his hall closet, he takes down the bear he'd had for her last time. The fur still soft, it's body squeezable. Coming back to the couch, he sets it on the cushion between them.

There are 3 individual gunshots from the time he leaves the couch to the time he returns.

"Try and focus on my voice Tara," he says, as the gunfire continues, "Hear the gunshots, but focus on me. I asked, how you were feeling right now, with your handfasting so close. You'd said before that you often felt apprehensive at moments of intense joy, due to your past. I was simpley curious as to your reaction now."

[brambless]

Tara wraps her arms around the bear, bringing it close in to her chest, burying her face in its soft fur. It helps. Not a lot, but enough.

She's still jumping every time she hears a shot, though, the heart that had only just begun to slow down careening wildly.

"I, um... I..." Another shot, and she lets out a soft cry, before deliberately taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She can do this. How many techniques does she know to calm herself? She can do this.

"It's, um... it's better? Now that I know the Powers aren't going to -bangbang!- oh, god... Aren't going to take me away? But I'm still... still scared. B-because it's... it's too good to be -bang!-... to be... to, um... to be true."

She's speaking directly into the bear's fur, her voice hopelessly muffled, and with each shot she squeezes it tighter, until its poor body is bulging above and below, her arms corseting it brutally around the waist.