Third session with Kate Barlow

[cook_the_rude]

After two impromptu sessions with Kate behind the stables, Dr. Hannibal Lecter has organised a small office for himself in Milliways. "I would feel better for your sake if there were no chance of anybody happening upon us as we talk," he explains when he collects her from the stables. "A psychiatrist's office must be a safe space, with no interruption, where the patient can let go and emerge, safely fortified to meet the world again, after catharsis."

When she follows him, she will find the office upstairs, near the library, in an area of the non-linear rooms section that feels more business-like because of that location; it is small but functional, with clean-lined modernist furniture made of pale wood contrasting with the 18th and 19th century prints of horses, maps and cityscapes in ornate frames that adorn the walls. There are two comfortable chairs with end-tables, a small book-case, and a pale leather couch. There is a small drawing table with two straight-backed chairs that, at this moment, holds nothing but a flower arrangement. There are two doors, one slightly ajar to reveal a tiny pantry kitchen, the other firmly closed, with a covered lock that clearly labels it a bathroom door, lockable from the inside.

There are two floor-length windows obscured by pale, gauzy blinds, at the bottom of which a balcony is visible, and beyond its grate, the lake area, with a view to the stables, the garden, and the forge.

A tall carafe of cool water, two glasses, and a box of tissues in a metal holder are set out.

"Please take a seat, Kate," Dr. Lecter says.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

"The mere narrative set off your first flashback," Dr. Lecter points out. "So, working backwards, it might well do so."

[ikissdhimbck]

He has a point.

She purses her lips in thought, but after only a moment she has to concede to his expertise. She nods, once.

"All right."

[cook_the_rude]

He gets up and fetches a book from the book case. It's a large format book of photography, with the iconic moment of the second plane hitting on the cover.

He hands it to her.

[ikissdhimbck]

She takes it gingerly.

He'll note the wariness in her expression, as if he's just handed her a snake that could bite at any moment. However, without another word she opens the book and starts looking through the photos.

They're — awful. Some are more horrifying than others, but they're all disturbing on a deep level just for the fact of being real. This honestly happened.


And Tommy was there.


"Three."

As she turns the pages, the numbers will go up.

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter watches very, very quietly.

There are the usual still-horrible pictures turning up with every article or newscast about the WTC -- the burning towers, smoke in the streets of Manhattan, millions of pieces of paper on the breeze, fire-fighters going up the steep emergency staircase that the employees of the firms in the towers are rushing down. There is one rare picture, though, of falling bodies.

[ikissdhimbck]

Kate covers her mouth when she gets to that last picture, eyes shut against the horror.

It takes her a moment.




"Eight."

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter puts his hand on the book, as if to keep her from turning the page.

"Stay with the picture," he says, quietly, watching her very closely. "Give me the book when you feel it rising towards nine. We don't want to go further."

[ikissdhimbck]

She squeezes her eyes shut tight, and takes a deep breath.

She opens them. Looks at the picture. Tries to make out their faces. Their ages. Imagines herself there. Like Tommy.

Bile burns the back of her throat.

Tears sting her eyes.



She pushes the book toward him.



Nine.

[cook_the_rude]

He takes the book.

"That was very good, Kate," he says. "Very brave. You are doing very well at this."

He offers her a tissue, putting the book aside so she doesn't even have to see the cover any more.

[ikissdhimbck]

Is she doing well at this? As with almost everything up to this point, she can only take his word for it.

Her movements to take the tissue are measured. She's staying very still, eyes closed, just concentrating on sitting. Breathing. Feeling the ground beneath her feet.

Tommy's murmured half stories into her ear; she's woken up to the sounds of him dreaming, the frenzied movement of his eyelids during a nightmare. But to see the things he saw that day — destruction and suffering on such a scale she can't wrap her mind around it — it takes all her will not to cry.

[cook_the_rude]

"You can cry if you want to, Kate," Dr. Lecter says quietly. "You are safe here. No need to leave before you've collected yourself."

[ikissdhimbck]

She shakes her head, slow and slight.

She can't. She won't. Tommy would never stand for her crying over him. Her eyes are glassy when she reopens them, voice choked, but she will not cry.

"I jus' don't understand how things like this could happen."

[cook_the_rude]

"Perhaps," Dr. Lecter says, slowly, "we can never know why the world happens. It just does."

[ikissdhimbck]

She looks at him.

The likelihood that she'll ever know why things here happened the way they did, and righted themselves just as mysteriously, is slim. And she knows that.

Still, it's a hard thing to accept when you've seen that bright light, the whole of your life passing before your eyes.



"Perhaps you're right."

[cook_the_rude]

"Perhaps there is no hard right or wrong," Dr. Lecter says, "but it might help you to consider the possibility?"

[ikissdhimbck]

She shakes her head.

"I dunno what y'mean."

[cook_the_rude]

"Consider that perhaps, the world is not required to make sense?" Dr. Lecter says, in a tone of voice not delivering a truth but making a suggestion.

[ikissdhimbck]

She quiets for a spell.



"I — I know that can certainly be true, but — I've always thought that He has a plan."

She glances heavenward.

"Or I did. Once. M'not sure what I think 'bout Him since everythin' in Green Lake. However, I always thought — I always thought someone or somethin's time was up when they died. Comin' back again makes no sense."

And it bothers her. It'll take some effort not to let it.

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter nods, quietly. "It is between you and God?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"I reckon it is."

'The law will punish Sam, and God will punish you!'

She shakes her head.

"I guess I was jus' hopin' there was — an answer. Or a reason."

[cook_the_rude]

"I don't have something like that for you," Dr. Lecter says. "You will have to make your own peace with God over what happened."

[ikissdhimbck]

She hadn't thought she was expecting that from him, but his words deflate her somewhat, and she realizes perhaps she had hoped he would have the answers she's been craving.

Making her peace — well. It'll be a long time before she can truly do that.

"Thank you. I'm, ah — m'back to around a seven."

[cook_the_rude]

"I want you take a deep breath, Kate, and let go of those images," Dr. Lecter says, quietly.

[ikissdhimbck]

She nods silently, and closes her eyes.


Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.


After several long moments, she relaxes enough that her breathing is coming much easier. Her heart beats a steady tattoo, and the unsteady feeling passes.

[cook_the_rude]

"Take some sips of water?" he suggests.