Freeze Your Brain

Valli had an office number, but for patients who he'd had for more than a few sessions, he gave out his phone number. It was for emergencies, and he was clear upon its use, but if his phone rang through the emergency line, Valli dropped everything to answer.

Just like he did then. It was late, and he was waiting for Gask to get back, but when the phone rang he immediately picked it up, answering on the second ring.

"Shay?" He said immediately, the number familiar.

It was not the first time a patient had called with a teary self-injury confession. It would not be the last. He'd prepared for it, and as Valli continued the conversation he headed over to his small bookshelf in the main room--the last vestige of the office that Gask's room had replaced--and pulled out a large binder, flopping it down on the coffee table.

"You shouldn't be dying at all," Valli said, in his very best crisis voice. Smooth and even, and maybe a little detached. It would probably be better if he sounded just as upset as her, but Valli had never mastered that. He needed the emotional distance, and he didn't like lying.

"Are you hurt?" Valli said immediately. "Do you need EMTs?" That came first, before anything else. Before he asked where she was or what she was doing.

Valli had known. Sort of. He'd been given some information as part of Shay's mandatory therapy. He'd been told she'd been involved in a fight, killed someone in self defense, and then framed it to look like a hate crime. A bizarre sequence of events, but normaly enough for Manta Carlos. He hadn't been given any more details then that, just the utter basics, but it was enough to help him fill in the blanks as Shay spoke.

"Humans can't ever go back. Not even immortals can. Life is about change, and every minute that we live, we change more. We can't go back and undo our actions or experiences, so all we can do is change the course of our lives to end up in the place we want to be."

Had she attempted already, and just failed? Or was she on the verge of it? Even if she would come back, it was still a bad thing, still a risk.

"You still have people who care about you, and places to go, and things to do. You feel alone right now, but you aren't alone, and I want you to remember that. Try and take deep breaths, and every time you breath in, think about someone who you care about."

A different tack, then. Valli checked the clock as he headed to the closet, digging out his coat.

"Should I come over?" He asked. It was late, yes, but he'd never been one to turn down an urgent house call, and it wasn't as if Shay could just go out at night so late. Not with her situation. So if anything, he'd have to go to her.

"What have you been doing with your time?" Valli asked. "Hobbies? Catching up on TV? Something to occupy your hands?" It was good to have distractions after such a severe change of schedule, but most importantly: He was getting her talking. Talking about things other than her misery, to let her relax.

Had Shay already died and come back? That was what it was sounding like, but he was worried about asking. Limbo was a sensitive subject, and sounding like someone who was digging around for personal details was a real risk.

It didn't directly matter, so it didn't ask.

"You should reach out to those you trust, to have someone come over and sit with you. Just having someone in the room can be helpful. It's comforting, and the reason I do so many of my sessions in person."

If not him, then someone else. He could name the names he'd heard in her sessions, but there was no telling what they were like. Who had cut her off? It was all but inevitable that there would be, at a minimum, some hurt feelings. People who said they needed time to process.

"Time heals all wounds, Shay. People will forgive, and people will forget, and this will fade from memory entirely. What feels like something of monumental importance now will one day be nothing more than a memory."