First Session: Emily

Valli had been providing therapy for more than a decade, but Starlight Academy posed its own unique challenges. He was used to his office, used to the familiarity and the location. His new office had it's own benefits--mostly the proximity to the student base--but wasn't quite home yet.

He'd done his best to make it feel comfortable and lived in. It wasn't a terribly large space--there wasn't even a waiting room--but a small plaque outside the door had his name on it, and nothing else. In fact, he'd gone out of his way to avoid anything that might mention it was a therapist's office, preferring for things to remain as low key as possible. he was well aware of the importance of discretion, and he tried his best to stick to it whenever possible.

The office itself was simple and sparsely decorated. Light green walls, a large window with frosted glass to keep anyone from seeing in, and then a desk pushed up against the wall. Valli preferred not to give his patients the idea that he was looking at them over a desk, preferring to rest in his own chair while they rested in theirs with nothing between them. The desk was for between patients, and beside it was a large filing cabinet, already filled with patient files.

Emily came with her own file, which was unusual. Transferring patient files was rare, but considering the circumstances, not that unexpected. Even worse, Emily came with his absolute least favorite condition: Mandatory therapy.

Valli had always strongly believed that you couldn't force someone to participate in therapy. Therapy was something that someone had to want for themselves. Mandatory therapy bypassed that, and it meant she might be there because she was forced, not because she wanted to get better.

If her files were to be believed, Emily had very little choice. Murder by someone under the age of eighteen often came with mandatory therapy, and not complying with the therapist meant she was risking being shipped to the islets.

Valli had already settled in thirty minutes before her usual appointment time, reading a book in his office just in case she came early.

Valli glanced up at the sound of the knock, snapping his book closed and setting it down on his desk before heading to the door. He knew better than to make anyone wait outside, so he opted to simply open it, waving her in immediately before closing the door behind her.

"Miss Strong, right?" Valli asked, giving her a friendly smile. "Take a seat wherever you'd like." More than once he'd had someone take a seat in his chair, but it wasn't a terribly big deal, considering the setup for his office. "Is there anything you need before we start?"

She'd definitely done that before, and Valli had to remind himself not to let that bother him. Yes, she'd been through therapy before. Yes, the fact that she was there meant others had failed in the past. But he couldn't focus on those failures, and instead needed to focus on the there and now.

"I'm of the opinion that everyone needs therapy," Valli countered. "People consider it completely normal to go to a doctor every few months for a checkup, even if they don't feel anything is wrong, but if you even consider going to therapy, the assumption is that you must have some big problem. Everyone could use therapy, even if there isn't anything wrong."

And from what little he knew about Emily, it was a fairly safe bet that there was something wrong. People didn't just kill others without consequences. There was psychological damage when they did, and if there wasn't some kind of damage, then that was a whole other problem.

"Is Emily alright, or would you prefer Miss Strong?" Or whatever else, but he assumed that would imply.

Normally, Valli would ask if she had any questions. People often came into therapy with concerns about how therapy worked, but Emily was obviously both familiar and hostile. She knew what therapy was, and she'd already decided she didn't need it.

"My name is Valli, or Doctor Bryndisarson," Valli said, giving her a smile despite her obviously sour mood. "I'm also of the opinion that everyone needs therapy, regardless of whether or not they're fine. Everyone deals with anxiety and stress, and everyone could be better at coping with those things. Everyone has things about themselves they dislike, and everyone has things they wish they could change. It's simply a part of being human."

Or non-human, but he didn't feel the need to point that out, since her file had noted that she wasn't open about that.

"I also want to note that I won't approach you outside of sessions. I'm well aware that people feel differently about therapy than I do, and that people might be embarrassed if their friends thought they were going to therapy. Even if we run into each other, I'll treat you as a stranger unless you acknowledge me first."

"You'd be surprised how many of your classmates attend therapy themselves," Valli pointed out. He wasn't put off by her dismissals, or by her obviously frustrated body language. The fact that she was talking at all was good progress already, and everything she said gave him more insight into what concerned her. She was worried about her reputation, and about the judgement of others.

"You were born and lived most of your life off island, so it's understandable you'd think that way. Off the island, people like us--non-humans and even humans with powers--are the odd ones out. We stand out by virtue of who we are, which is hard to deal with since it isn't something we could possibly change. On the island, though, things are different. A large number of your classmates will come from backgrounds involving varying levels of trauma. Therapy and the need for it is the rule, not the exception."

He wished it was otherwise, but it simply wasn't.

"You could look to someone like Miss Black, for example. She's been very public about having gone to therapy, and heads a very large and important club on campus."

The fact that she was also a demon didn't hurt at all.

Chloe and Emily were alike in a lot of ways, although Valli could hardly say as much.

"I didn't mean that you were," he said simply. "My point was that your social status is not dependent on you not going to therapy."

Valli's smile didn't waver, even when she implied he'd broken doctor-patient confidentiality. He hadn't really--he'd have known anyway--but Chloe was a patient of his. Even so, it was easy to brush off.

"Not at all. As part of my job, I keep up with all the clubs in the school. Ones like the Demonic Student Union and Shapeshifters Non-Anonymous can be excellent resources for students who feel isolated and alone. I've suggested that several of my patients in the past join Miss Black's club in the past."

Valli paused for a moment, his smile fading slightly as he became more serious.

"For the record, doctor-patient confidentiality is of the utmost importance to me. I would never reveal that someone was a patient of mine, let alone the contents of my sessions. There are only a very limited set of conditions where I'm forced to break it. In particular, I'm required to contact authorities if I believe you're an immediate danger to yourself, to others, or if I believe a child is being abused."

"I apologize, I didn't mean to lecture," Valli said, actually meaning it. "I know a lot of people have misconceptions about mental health, helped in no small part by the media. I can't count the number of times I've had to explain that people with mental health problems aren't any more dangerous than the average person, or that schizophrenia doesn't just mean talking to yourself."

Valli couldn't help letting out a little sigh at that last one.

He'd gotten her to at least accept the basics, which meant he was free to handle his usual routine, working through the mental checklist as he did. He'd already talked about disclosure--and in more detail than he used to--and introduced himself. He'd yet to talk about his own powers though, or about how he normally functioned in a session.

"Sorry," Valli admitted. "This next bit probably is going to sound like a lecture, but it's important I get it out of the way a bit. If you ever feel uncomfortable with a line of questioning, or don't want to talk about something, it's alright to say so. And in the interest of full disclosure, I should note that as a supernatural being, I have my own power which I'm incapable of disabling. In particular, it'll make me look - ah, appealing, I guess? Not in an inappropriate manner, but I'll always look healthy. My mother says I always look 'my best', if that helps. It shouldn't directly affect any of your thought processes, or anything of the sort, beyond that you'll probably think I look more put together than you might otherwise."