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Atalanta Pendragonne (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} atalantapendrag) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/community.gif){kind=small} st_stolen_time,@ 2007-08-18 18:44:00 |
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Stolen Time #197: Confidential
Teatime visits a therapist.
Teatime: The waiting room is a small, odd little place - lots of small chairs that seem to be bolted to the ground, potted plants that are not, in fact, actual plants (Teatime knows this for a fact, having attempted to shred a leaf that revealed itself to be made of some kind of stiff fabric), very boring paintings and even duller magazines. He turns to Nny with some impatience. "When are -we- going to be seen?"
Nny: "It'd better be -soon-," Nny says sullenly, swinging his legs. The fake plants look very flammable... if he has to sit here much longer, he'll test that out.
Teatime: "I like your paintings better," Teatime announces, looking hard at one of the ones facing them.
Nny: Glancing at the painting in question (a rather unfortunate-looking seascape), Nny can't help laughing. "Of course you do. You can -see-."
Teatime: Teatime grins. "Well. They should put up -your- pictures, then."
Nny: "I don't think I'd want my paintings to live here with the phony plants and the ugly carpet."
Teatime: "Oh. Well --" But whatever Teatime was about to say is cut off, as a woman with a neat suit and a clipboard enters the room. "Messers Teatime?"
Nny: Her pronunciation, thankfully, is close enough to not send Nny into an immediate rage. He takes Teatime's hand and looks at him. "Ready?" he asks softly.
Teatime: Teatime nods. Whatever this is, it can't be -awful- after all. He stands, hand in hand with Nny, and follows the woman to a much larger office at the end of a small hall.
Nny: The office looks much like every other therapist's office Nny's ever seen; bland and ugly, furnished with more money than taste. The chairs, at least, appear fairly comfortable.
"Take a seat," the woman says, gesturing to said chairs. "Now, I understand you were recommended here by a Mr Grandin, right?"
Nny: Her somewhat abrupt manner quickly puts Nny on the defensive. "Yeah. So?"
"Just to let you know that I have a stricter-than-legal policy on confidentiality." She takes off her glasses, sitting at a chair just in front of Nny and Teatime; there's no desk. "That is, the only thing that I will report to any authorities are direct death threats to myself or my family, and even then only in certain circumstances. Anything else you say to me won't leave this office, unless you specifically ask or give permission for me to do so. That settled," she continues, looking them both over, "What can I do for you?"
Nny: Nny gives Teatime a cautious sideways glance. "My husband... the people who raised him didn't treat him well. I'm trying to get him to see that."
Teatime: "I understand they didn't treat me very -nicely-," Teatime protests.
Nny: "It was more than not -nicely-. That... that -thing-..." Nny bites his lip and looks away.
"What is it you object to about the way your husband was brought up?" the therapist asks. "Also - we've probably ran ahead with ourselves a little - I'm Claire."
Nny: "I'm Nny," he says, barely looking at her. "And I -object- to the ways they hurt him and twisted his head around."
Teatime: "Well, I didn't much like it either. I just don't think it's quite as..."
Nny: "Why don't you see what she thinks?" He takes Teatime's hand and squeezes it gently.
Teatime: Teatime turns his eye from Nny to the woman sitting in front of them, looking at her suspiciously. "Tell her about all of -that-?"
Nny: "That's what therapists are -for-, remember?"
Teatime: Folding his arms over his chest, he looks at her a little crossly, uncertain. "Well."
Claire turns her attention to Teatime and gives him a somewhat bland professional smile. "I want you to feel comfortable here, Mr. Teatime."
Teatime: Teatime smiles right back, a happy and inexplicably hostile expression. "I'm very glad, Miss Claire. And how would you do -that-?"
"This is a safe place for you to tell me your concerns. Nothing you say leaves this room."
Teatime: "I don't -have- many concerns, Miss."
"Your husband seems to feel your, ah, upbringing was less than ideal?"
Teatime: "I broke some rules." Teatime clearly isn't sure how to speak about this to someone who is not-Nny; he glances over at him.
Nny: Nny hasn't released Teatime's hand, and he squeezes it again, sending a little wave of reassurance. After all, if this Claire person gets annoying, they can always kill her.
Teatime: "I was raised in a... something not quite unlike an orphanage, I suppose," Teatime begins. "I broke some rules and I got punished for it, and Nny doesn't like it." Reluctantly, he adds, "Because I get... preoccupied with it, sometimes. A little irrationally so."
Taking notes, Claire gives Teatime an encouraging nod. "Would you like to go into more detail on that?"
Teatime: "On what? What part?"
"The situation in general. It would help me to know what you're referring to."
Teatime: "I touched some people when I shouldn't have. They tied me up to prevent this from happening again." Teatime's still smiling, of course, but there's something a little harsh in his voice; one eye twitches.
"...and this was when you were still a child?" Concern is clear in her voice under the professional veneer.
Teatime: "Yes. Around ten, perhaps."
"And was this a... frequent occurrence, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: "For a little while. A few years later they found a girl and they assumed I'd - done things to her. They tried to do it again then but I was old enough to stop them."
She clears her throat. "You're referring to sexual things here, yes?"
Teatime: Teatime nods. "But I -didn't-," he adds, automatically, defensively.
"And do you think that restraining you physically would have been an appropriate response if you had?"
Teatime: "If I'd... broken the rules again, you mean?"
"Which rules are you referring to, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: "Rules about... touching, and such." He glances at Nny again.
Nny: Nny squeezes Teatime's hand again, forcing himself not to speak.
"Did the, ah, facility you grew up in have rules covering such situations?"
Teatime: "They must have. Or I wouldn't have been punished." He shifts in his seat. "But it's... not quite that. There are -rules-. I don't quite - I amn't entirely sure on the specifics, but they're universal, I think. Some things I simply -shouldn't do-."
"What sort of rules do you think those are, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: "Not to touch people without them wanting it. Not to touch myself for my own purposes. Things like that."
"Did someone tell you you weren't to touch yourself, Mr. Teatime? Was this a church-run institution?"
Teatime: "I don't think anyone ever -told- me not to," Teatime says, thoughtfully. "But I -couldn't-. And I don't like to. So there must be a reason for that."
"Most modern schools of thought consider masturbation to be normal and healthy. It's certainly not productive to punish a child for such a natural behaviour."
Teatime: Teatime stays silent, looking troubled.
Nny: That gets Nny's attention, and he looks at Teatime sharply, sending a wave of concern.
Teatime: "Well, I don't," he says, tugging Nny's hand - and therefore Nny - closer. "I don't like it. I'm not supposed to, so I won't."
Making a mental note of the couple's apparent rapport, Claire scribbles down a few more notes. "You don't consider it to be normal, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: Teatime blinks. "I'm not sure. 'Normal' isn't really something I'm much familiar with... Nny says he does it," he adds. "And I know Mister Dib said the same."
"Is this a friend of yours?"
Teatime: He nods. "He was our other friend, yes. But he went away some time ago."
Given what Mr. Grandin told her about this Teatime fellow, Claire has no desire to ask about this 'going away'. "But you feel as though it's something you're forbidden to do?"
Teatime: "I -couldn't-. So I don't want to."
"Do you mean you couldn't when you were younger, when your caretakers restrained you?"
Teatime: "Yes. And..."
More note-taking. "And?"
Teatime: "Well. I wouldn't stop - I didn't like being tied to the bed, you see. I was being disruptive."
"By wouldn't stop, do you mean that you masturbated frequently as a child?"
Nny: Nny gives her a hard stare, then returns his attention to Teatime.
Teatime: "No!" The word bursts from Teatime's mouth, and he stares at her, open-mouthed for a long moment. "I wouldn't stop -struggling-, I wanted to be let -go-, it was uncomfortable and I didn't -like- it."
"But that's a normal reaction, Mr. Teatime. Your caretakers might have felt it was disruptive, but it's only natural to struggle if you're being pinned down."
Teatime: "Well." Teatime breathes a little more deeply. "They didn't like me like that. So they made it so that I couldn't."
"And do you think the methods they used with you were appropriate, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: "... I don't know," he says, quietly.
Nny: "Of -course- they weren't!" Nny says angrily.
"This is about his opinions, not yours," Claire says calmly.
Teatime: "They were... effective."
"That isn't what I asked."
Teatime: "They wanted to stop a behaviour, they applied a solution, the behaviour stopped. In that sense, yes, it was an appropriate solution to a problem."
"I'll rephrase myself, then. Do you think they had the right to treat you that way?"
Teatime: "As my legal guardians, I suppose so." A pause. "I didn't like it. Nny doesn't like it."
"I'm sure you're aware that there are laws against treating children like that?"
Teatime: "There weren't. Not where I lived."
Claire looks at him, then, with confusion. "Almost every country has fairly stringent laws on the subject. Perhaps they were trying to convince you otherwise?"
Teatime: "It doesn't matter," Teatime says, shaking his head.
Nny: "It -does- matter, dammit!" Nny yells. "What they did - "
Teatime: "Was -years- ago, Nny! I'm just - I can be - a little childish," he says, regaining control. "Perhaps that's why I'm so... preoccupied with it, at times."
"Mr. Teatime, it's not unusual to become preoccupied with unpleasant events from our past. It seems as if you're having a little difficulty moving past it. It can't help that you seem to have internalized their attitudes."
Teatime: "Can't we ask Nny some questions now?"
"What would you like to ask him?"
Teatime: Teatime blinks. "I don't know."
"Are there things you think I should know about him?"
Teatime: "About Nny?"
"You did suggest I ask him a few questions."
Teatime: "Because all the questions you've asked have been to -me-." Teatime looks at her. "He's Nny. He's -mine-. I love him. That's what you should know."
"I can see he's very protective of you."
Teatime: "Because he's -mine-."
Nny: Nny strokes Teatime's wrist at that, sending him a wave of love and reassurance.
"Mr Teatime," Claire says, somehow making it clear that she's addressing Nny this time. "Can I assume that coming to see me today was your idea?"
Nny: "I, um. I guess so. I suggested it, yeah."
"Could you explain to me why you decided to do that?"
Nny: "Because..." Nny glances at Teatime. "Because he still believes in what -they- told him he shouldn't do. Even though they hurt him and... and did things they shouldn't have."
"By that, you mean restraining him while he was a child?"
Nny: He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "That. And the other things."
Claire glances up from her notes, looking at both Teatimes. "Other things?"
Nny: Nny gives Teatime an uneasy glance. "They did... bad things."
Teatime: Teatime says nothing, watching Nny evenly.
"If you don't want to continue, Mr Teatime, that's your choice; however, I'd like you to know that the more I understand about the situation, the more help I'll be able to give you. But please, only tell me what you're comfortable with revealing."
Nny: "It's not mine to reveal, though, is it?" He gives Teatime another almost-pleading look. But surely this woman gets the gist of what he's trying to say?
Teatime: "They had this... thing," Teatime says, slowly.
Nny: Nny grips Teatime's hand at that, crushingly tightly.
Teatime: "It was..." Now it's Teatime's turn to look at Nny - how do you describe something like that? "It had - it fitted around..."
Nny: "It was a damned -torture- device, is what it was!"
Claire puts her glasses back on, watching the both of them with her eyebrows knitted together. "Torture device?"
Nny: Nny looks down, feeling he's said too much already. "It's not my past to talk about."
Teatime: "You can," Teatime says. "If you want. You - know, after all. You saw it."
Nny: "It was a thing. A thing they made him -wear-. A little metal tube with spikes on it. Like some sort of fetish shit, only on a KID. And they did -other- things, too."
"Let me make sure I've got this straight, Mr Teatime," Claire says. "Are you describing some kind of... chastity-belt?"
Nny: "Yeah. Something like that."
Teatime: "I didn't like it," Teatime says, in case this wasn't clear. "It was... and I couldn't really move, of course. So I couldn't struggle."
Nny: It's obvious that hearing Teatime's understated dislike makes Nny frustrated, angry, and more protective than ever. He turns toward his husband, seeming to not even know Claire's still in the room. "No one. No one should ever touch you like that."
Teatime: "I don't let them -now-, of course." Teatime smiles, touches Nny's face. "You know that."
Nny: "And they won't do it again. Not ever again."
Teatime: "No. Never."
Nny: "We made -sure-." A slow, intense grin. "And we'd do it again."
Teatime: Teatime nods, apparently somewhat reassured by this; Claire shifts uncomfortably.
Nny: Nny leans a little closer to Claire, still clutching Teatime's hand. "Are you going to say anything -useful-, or is this just upsetting my husband for nothing?"
The therapist sits up a little straighter. She looks Nny in the eye. "Recovering from the kind of abuse you've described if often upsetting by necessity, especially when certain attitudes have become internalized, or coping mechanisms have become outmoded. And as for being useful... Mr Teatime, I need to know what it is that you and your husband -want- from these sessions. I need to know what you would regard as a useful outcome."
Nny: After a few quiet, thoughtful moments, Nny speaks again, softly. "I want. I want Teatime to decide if he wants to... do things, or not do them... because of what -he- wants, and not because of what -they- told him."
Claire nods, making another note. "And do you mean personal choices, sexual choices, career choices...? A combination?"
Nny: "-Any- choices. He's not -theirs-. I don't like them still being able to control him."
Teatime: Teatime frowns. "They -don't- control me, Nny. I do what I like."
Nny: "So you like that you're 'not supposed to' jack off like anyone else?"
Teatime: He folds his arms over his chest. "I don't care. i don't -want- to. And I don't mind doing it when you want me to, so I don't see why it bothers you so much."
Nny: "It bothers me that you're -scared- to. You shouldn't be -scared- to."
Teatime: "I'm -not-!" His voice, high and vehement, betrays the falsehood.
"Mr. Teatime," Claire interjects, turning her attention to Teatime. "You seem a little stressed. Would a one-on-one session be easier for you?"
Teatime: "A..." Teatime blinks - it's clear he'd forgotten about the therapist's presence. "Without Nny?"
"That might be more productive. It might be easier for you to speak freely."
Teatime: "But he's -mine-."
"That's not really the -point-, Mr. Teatime. It's a confidentiality issue. Are you saying you wouldn't feel a little freer to speak your mind if you weren't trying to keep from upsetting your husband?"
Teatime: He glances over at Nny. "Why would I say things to -you- that I wouldn't say to him?"
Only her professional training keeps Claire from blurting out 'because I'm not a hair trigger lunatic'. "Because you're not concerned about upsetting me, perhaps?"
Teatime: "I don't tend to notice I'm upsetting people until I 've already done so." Clearly, in this instance, Teatime means 'Nny' when he says 'people'; he wouldn't notice or care in the -slightest- if he upset someone else.
"All the more reason for individual therapy, wouldn't you say? I'd like for you to be able to speak freely."
Teatime: Teatime regards her with deep suspicion. "No. I want him here."
Nny: Nny squeezes Teatime's hand firmly, ignoring Claire's look of barely contained exasperation.
Teatime: "-You- don't want to go, do you, Nny?"
Nny: "-No-," he says firmly. "I'm not going to -abandon- Teatime."
Teatime: The triumphant look Teatime gives Claire at that saves him from having to actually say 'so there' out loud.
Nny: Nny sends a wave of protective affection to Teatime; all the things he's hesitant to say in front of Claire are merged into it.
Teatime: "So," Teatime says, fortified by the wave of affection. "What do you want to ask me, that you don't want to say in front of my husband?" The cheerful, hostile grin is back.
"I've observed that your, ah, sexual..." She hastily bites back the word 'dysfunction'. "-inhibitions- appear to be a source of conflict."
Teatime: "... Nny would like for me to do certain things, yes," Teatime responds, slowly.
"And you find these... certain things... difficult? Or are you simply disinterested?"
Teatime: "I wasn't interested in any of those sorts of things for a very long time."
Claire makes further notes. "And now?"
Teatime: "I like to do things with Nny, now." He makes a small noise as if to continue before stopping and falling silent again.
"...and?"
Teatime: "As I said. Nny wants me to be able to do - things like that - whilst I'm on my own. I don't quite understand the need."
"Perhaps he simply dislikes that you still feel constrained by your upbringing?"
Teatime: "I have to be -careful-," Teatime says through a tight smile.
"Why do you feel you have to be careful?"
Teatime: "Because --" He looks at both of them, something approaching a shadow of one of Nny's scowls flitting across his face. "I know they wouldn't be allowed. I know we'd kill them afterwards, if they did. But that doesn't mean..."
"Doesn't mean what, Mr. Teatime?" She deliberately ignores the 'killed' part.
Teatime: His expression changes entirely, back into the huge (and entirely false) grin. "It doesn't mean that it -couldn't- happen again. We'd find them. I know we'd find them and let them know that they shouldn't. But that doesn't -mean-..."
"Can you tell me what it doesn't mean?"
Teatime: "It doesn't mean that it -couldn't happen again-," Teatime repeats. "It could. And I didn't like it." One eye twitches, and it becomes difficult to prevent his anger from sliding through their connection to Nny.
"What couldn't happen again, Mr. Teatime?" Her voice is cool and neutral.
Teatime: "I told you. Nny and I explained it to you."
"Do you honestly think that the people who raised you are going to track you down now and punish you for your sexuality? You aren't a helpless child anymore. You can make your own decisions."
Teatime: Teatime glares at her. "I know that."
"But you still have these irrational fears?"
Teatime: Twitch. With great restraint, Teatime manages to stop himself from telling the woman to just -shut up-; Nny wanted him to do this, after all. "I know that I'm not a -child-, Miss," he says. "And I'm not stupid enough to think my teachers will find me, as they're now all dead. But I know that -circumstance- can conspire in such a way that..."
"You think random circumstance will put you in a chastity belt? If nothing else, your husband seems intent on preventing that."
Teatime: "I don't like you," Teatime announces, mismatched glare intensifying.
"Are my questions making you uncomfortable, Mr. Teatime? Why do you think that is?"
Teatime: "Because they're -rude-. You're rude."
"What makes you feel that I'm being rude?"
Teatime: "You're asking unkind questions. You're implying that I'm being silly and childish."
"I don't think you're being silly or childish, Mr. Teatime. I think some people treated you very badly when you were young and you're having a bit of trouble moving past that."
Teatime: "Nny got hurt," Teatime says suddenly. "In that way. We hunted down the thing that did it and we made it hurt very, very badly, but he didn't break any rules and he wasn't a child and -he- got hurt, too. I am -not- being irrational." Remembering this brings old outrage to the surface; Teatime grips Nny's hand very tightly.
Nny: Nny squeezes Teatime's hand in return, just as tightly, and turns his face away; he dislikes being reminded of that incident.
It takes Claire a moment to decipher the Teatime-speak, and another to formulate a response. "If he didn't violate these... rules... of yours, do you still think that holding to them affords you some form of protection?"
Teatime: "It doesn't invite punishment."
"Punishment implies that someone is judging you and choosing to punish you. Who do you think would do that?"
Teatime: "I don't know." Teatime glances at Nny, concerned.
Nny: Nny sends a wave of reassurance, stroking the back of Teatime's hand.
"Have you ever allowed yourself to consider that perhaps these fears are groundless?"
Teatime: "No. I'm not often wrong about things."
"But you've admitted to some uncertainty about this."
Teatime: Teatime opens his mouth, then shuts it. "Nny thinks..."
"What does Nny think?"
Teatime: "That I should be able to. That it's alright if I do." He shifts a little. "I wouldn't have tried much without Nny."
"And has anyone punished you for this... trying?"
Nny: Nny edges closer to Teatime, sending a flicker of approval and affection.
Teatime: "No." Feeling Nny coming closer, Teatime tugs at him, encouraging him. He wants Nny as near to him as possible.
"And does that tell you anything?"
Teatime: "That I can do things when it's with Nny."
"You don't think you're entitled to freedom on your own?"
Teatime: "I have freedom. I don't see why -sex-," (Teatime pronounces the word as if it's something deeply unpleasant) "is a measure of -freedom-. It isn't even - I don't want to do things on my own. I can do the things I like with Nny, and I'm allowed to say no to the things I don't."
"The issue isn't so much sex as it is making your own choices. Do you usually let others make your choices for you?"
Teatime: "No," Teatime answers, automatically - then pauses, becoming thoughtful. "... sometimes," he allows.
Claire can't help raising an eyebrow slightly. "And when would this be?"
Teatime: "I try not to do things that Nny's told me upset him. Like lying or getting shot. And we play games sometimes."
Guessing at the nature of these 'games', Claire blushes somewhat, and oddly, so does Nny. "But you're still making a conscious decision to respect someone else's wishes. You don't feel that you're being forced to comply."
Teatime: "Not now, no."
"So do you think, perhaps, just maybe, your conviction that someone will punish you is out of date?"
Teatime: "No. And I don't... I don't think that it's -certain-. Circumstances are somewhat different. I'd simply... rather not court the possibility for something I don't have much interest in."
"I think you might be holding on to outmoded coping mechanisms, Mr. Teatime. There was a time when you couldn't keep from being punished cruelly and arbitrarily, but that time is past."
Teatime: "Yes. And I'd like it to stay that way."
"Tell me, Mr. Teatime, what are -you- hoping to get out of therapy?"
Teatime: "Nny wanted me to come. And I didn't like it when we fought the other day." Teatime thinks for a moment. "I suppose it... might be nice to not panic at some things. I seem to say no to an awful lot more things than Nny does."
"Have you considered that the way to stop panicking might be to start rethinking some of your basic assumptions?"
Teatime: "What do you mean?"
"Well, we can start with the assumption that you'll be punished for certain behaviours."
Teatime: Teatime watches Claire in silence, fingers twining with Nny's.
Nny: Nny studies Teatime's expression closely, still holding his hand in a death grip.
"Well, Mr. Teatime, I think we're just about out of time, but until our next session, do you think you could do a simple exercise for me?"
Teatime: "Perhaps," Teatime says, a little warily.
"Once every day I'd like you to remind yourself, consciously, that you're not a little boy, and no one is going to punish you for your actions. I want you to remind yourself that you have the right to, er, masturbate, and that if you don't, it's because you choose not to, it's because you don't wish to, not because you're afraid. Do you think you can do that?"
Teatime: Teatime blinks; this isn't the sort of task he'd expected at all. "I've just to think that?"
"I know it sounds simple, but really convincing yourself is going to take work. You've held these assumptions for a long time."
Teatime: "Alright," he says, sounding thoughtful.
"So, I'd like you to start with that until our next session. I'm also going to write you a prescription for Xanax... you're only to take it if you feel yourself starting to panic."
Teatime: "... a -what-?"
Claire looks at him, baffled. "A prescription. For medication. You can get it filled at any pharmacy."
Teatime: "I'm not unwell."
Nny: "This is to make you more comfortable, and help keep you from panicking."
"I don't want it. I won't panic unless my wrists are tied, and we know not to do that now."
Nny: She blushes again at the reference to bondage. "You're not required to take it, of course."
Teatime: "Then it's silly that I take any at all."
"That's your decision, of course. Now, if you'd care to make an appointment for next week with the receptionist?" Her tone is polite, but the dismissal is clear.
Teatime: Teatime bounces to his feet. He's still holding Nny's hand, but he moves to shake Claire's with his free one. "Thank you very much."
"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Teatime. I hope our sessions will be productive."
Teatime: Smiling, Teatime says, "I still don't like you much. I'm sure we can be friends, though, can't we?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter if we're friends, Mr. Teatime. I'm your therapist, and I'm here to help you."
Teatime: He regards her oddly for a moment before shrugging. "Shall we go, then, Nny?"
Nny: Nny wraps an arm firmly around Teatime's waist. "Yeah, I think so. What would you like to do now?"
Teatime: Walking out of the room without a backward glance, Teatime ponders, "Should we make another appointment, then? I didn't like her. I think she came awfully close to being unkind."
Nny: "I don't think therapists are supposed to be kind, necessarily, as long as they do their job."
Teatime: "Oh. Well." He kisses Nny's shoulder. "People -should- be nice, though." Nevertheless, he stops by the receptionist's desk before they leave.
Nny: Nny clings protectively to Teatime as he sets up his next appointment, sending unconscious waves of reassurance.
Teatime: Teatime leans into Nny, turning his head to plant another soft kiss on him - his jaw, this time. "Let's go home."
Nny: "Home." Nny says softly. "Yes."
Teatime: Considering that they're presumably going to be in this particular building fairly often, Teatime waits until they're a little way down the street before he apparates them back to the apartment.
Teatime visits a therapist.
Teatime: The waiting room is a small, odd little place - lots of small chairs that seem to be bolted to the ground, potted plants that are not, in fact, actual plants (Teatime knows this for a fact, having attempted to shred a leaf that revealed itself to be made of some kind of stiff fabric), very boring paintings and even duller magazines. He turns to Nny with some impatience. "When are -we- going to be seen?"
Nny: "It'd better be -soon-," Nny says sullenly, swinging his legs. The fake plants look very flammable... if he has to sit here much longer, he'll test that out.
Teatime: "I like your paintings better," Teatime announces, looking hard at one of the ones facing them.
Nny: Glancing at the painting in question (a rather unfortunate-looking seascape), Nny can't help laughing. "Of course you do. You can -see-."
Teatime: Teatime grins. "Well. They should put up -your- pictures, then."
Nny: "I don't think I'd want my paintings to live here with the phony plants and the ugly carpet."
Teatime: "Oh. Well --" But whatever Teatime was about to say is cut off, as a woman with a neat suit and a clipboard enters the room. "Messers Teatime?"
Nny: Her pronunciation, thankfully, is close enough to not send Nny into an immediate rage. He takes Teatime's hand and looks at him. "Ready?" he asks softly.
Teatime: Teatime nods. Whatever this is, it can't be -awful- after all. He stands, hand in hand with Nny, and follows the woman to a much larger office at the end of a small hall.
Nny: The office looks much like every other therapist's office Nny's ever seen; bland and ugly, furnished with more money than taste. The chairs, at least, appear fairly comfortable.
"Take a seat," the woman says, gesturing to said chairs. "Now, I understand you were recommended here by a Mr Grandin, right?"
Nny: Her somewhat abrupt manner quickly puts Nny on the defensive. "Yeah. So?"
"Just to let you know that I have a stricter-than-legal policy on confidentiality." She takes off her glasses, sitting at a chair just in front of Nny and Teatime; there's no desk. "That is, the only thing that I will report to any authorities are direct death threats to myself or my family, and even then only in certain circumstances. Anything else you say to me won't leave this office, unless you specifically ask or give permission for me to do so. That settled," she continues, looking them both over, "What can I do for you?"
Nny: Nny gives Teatime a cautious sideways glance. "My husband... the people who raised him didn't treat him well. I'm trying to get him to see that."
Teatime: "I understand they didn't treat me very -nicely-," Teatime protests.
Nny: "It was more than not -nicely-. That... that -thing-..." Nny bites his lip and looks away.
"What is it you object to about the way your husband was brought up?" the therapist asks. "Also - we've probably ran ahead with ourselves a little - I'm Claire."
Nny: "I'm Nny," he says, barely looking at her. "And I -object- to the ways they hurt him and twisted his head around."
Teatime: "Well, I didn't much like it either. I just don't think it's quite as..."
Nny: "Why don't you see what she thinks?" He takes Teatime's hand and squeezes it gently.
Teatime: Teatime turns his eye from Nny to the woman sitting in front of them, looking at her suspiciously. "Tell her about all of -that-?"
Nny: "That's what therapists are -for-, remember?"
Teatime: Folding his arms over his chest, he looks at her a little crossly, uncertain. "Well."
Claire turns her attention to Teatime and gives him a somewhat bland professional smile. "I want you to feel comfortable here, Mr. Teatime."
Teatime: Teatime smiles right back, a happy and inexplicably hostile expression. "I'm very glad, Miss Claire. And how would you do -that-?"
"This is a safe place for you to tell me your concerns. Nothing you say leaves this room."
Teatime: "I don't -have- many concerns, Miss."
"Your husband seems to feel your, ah, upbringing was less than ideal?"
Teatime: "I broke some rules." Teatime clearly isn't sure how to speak about this to someone who is not-Nny; he glances over at him.
Nny: Nny hasn't released Teatime's hand, and he squeezes it again, sending a little wave of reassurance. After all, if this Claire person gets annoying, they can always kill her.
Teatime: "I was raised in a... something not quite unlike an orphanage, I suppose," Teatime begins. "I broke some rules and I got punished for it, and Nny doesn't like it." Reluctantly, he adds, "Because I get... preoccupied with it, sometimes. A little irrationally so."
Taking notes, Claire gives Teatime an encouraging nod. "Would you like to go into more detail on that?"
Teatime: "On what? What part?"
"The situation in general. It would help me to know what you're referring to."
Teatime: "I touched some people when I shouldn't have. They tied me up to prevent this from happening again." Teatime's still smiling, of course, but there's something a little harsh in his voice; one eye twitches.
"...and this was when you were still a child?" Concern is clear in her voice under the professional veneer.
Teatime: "Yes. Around ten, perhaps."
"And was this a... frequent occurrence, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: "For a little while. A few years later they found a girl and they assumed I'd - done things to her. They tried to do it again then but I was old enough to stop them."
She clears her throat. "You're referring to sexual things here, yes?"
Teatime: Teatime nods. "But I -didn't-," he adds, automatically, defensively.
"And do you think that restraining you physically would have been an appropriate response if you had?"
Teatime: "If I'd... broken the rules again, you mean?"
"Which rules are you referring to, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: "Rules about... touching, and such." He glances at Nny again.
Nny: Nny squeezes Teatime's hand again, forcing himself not to speak.
"Did the, ah, facility you grew up in have rules covering such situations?"
Teatime: "They must have. Or I wouldn't have been punished." He shifts in his seat. "But it's... not quite that. There are -rules-. I don't quite - I amn't entirely sure on the specifics, but they're universal, I think. Some things I simply -shouldn't do-."
"What sort of rules do you think those are, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: "Not to touch people without them wanting it. Not to touch myself for my own purposes. Things like that."
"Did someone tell you you weren't to touch yourself, Mr. Teatime? Was this a church-run institution?"
Teatime: "I don't think anyone ever -told- me not to," Teatime says, thoughtfully. "But I -couldn't-. And I don't like to. So there must be a reason for that."
"Most modern schools of thought consider masturbation to be normal and healthy. It's certainly not productive to punish a child for such a natural behaviour."
Teatime: Teatime stays silent, looking troubled.
Nny: That gets Nny's attention, and he looks at Teatime sharply, sending a wave of concern.
Teatime: "Well, I don't," he says, tugging Nny's hand - and therefore Nny - closer. "I don't like it. I'm not supposed to, so I won't."
Making a mental note of the couple's apparent rapport, Claire scribbles down a few more notes. "You don't consider it to be normal, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: Teatime blinks. "I'm not sure. 'Normal' isn't really something I'm much familiar with... Nny says he does it," he adds. "And I know Mister Dib said the same."
"Is this a friend of yours?"
Teatime: He nods. "He was our other friend, yes. But he went away some time ago."
Given what Mr. Grandin told her about this Teatime fellow, Claire has no desire to ask about this 'going away'. "But you feel as though it's something you're forbidden to do?"
Teatime: "I -couldn't-. So I don't want to."
"Do you mean you couldn't when you were younger, when your caretakers restrained you?"
Teatime: "Yes. And..."
More note-taking. "And?"
Teatime: "Well. I wouldn't stop - I didn't like being tied to the bed, you see. I was being disruptive."
"By wouldn't stop, do you mean that you masturbated frequently as a child?"
Nny: Nny gives her a hard stare, then returns his attention to Teatime.
Teatime: "No!" The word bursts from Teatime's mouth, and he stares at her, open-mouthed for a long moment. "I wouldn't stop -struggling-, I wanted to be let -go-, it was uncomfortable and I didn't -like- it."
"But that's a normal reaction, Mr. Teatime. Your caretakers might have felt it was disruptive, but it's only natural to struggle if you're being pinned down."
Teatime: "Well." Teatime breathes a little more deeply. "They didn't like me like that. So they made it so that I couldn't."
"And do you think the methods they used with you were appropriate, Mr. Teatime?"
Teatime: "... I don't know," he says, quietly.
Nny: "Of -course- they weren't!" Nny says angrily.
"This is about his opinions, not yours," Claire says calmly.
Teatime: "They were... effective."
"That isn't what I asked."
Teatime: "They wanted to stop a behaviour, they applied a solution, the behaviour stopped. In that sense, yes, it was an appropriate solution to a problem."
"I'll rephrase myself, then. Do you think they had the right to treat you that way?"
Teatime: "As my legal guardians, I suppose so." A pause. "I didn't like it. Nny doesn't like it."
"I'm sure you're aware that there are laws against treating children like that?"
Teatime: "There weren't. Not where I lived."
Claire looks at him, then, with confusion. "Almost every country has fairly stringent laws on the subject. Perhaps they were trying to convince you otherwise?"
Teatime: "It doesn't matter," Teatime says, shaking his head.
Nny: "It -does- matter, dammit!" Nny yells. "What they did - "
Teatime: "Was -years- ago, Nny! I'm just - I can be - a little childish," he says, regaining control. "Perhaps that's why I'm so... preoccupied with it, at times."
"Mr. Teatime, it's not unusual to become preoccupied with unpleasant events from our past. It seems as if you're having a little difficulty moving past it. It can't help that you seem to have internalized their attitudes."
Teatime: "Can't we ask Nny some questions now?"
"What would you like to ask him?"
Teatime: Teatime blinks. "I don't know."
"Are there things you think I should know about him?"
Teatime: "About Nny?"
"You did suggest I ask him a few questions."
Teatime: "Because all the questions you've asked have been to -me-." Teatime looks at her. "He's Nny. He's -mine-. I love him. That's what you should know."
"I can see he's very protective of you."
Teatime: "Because he's -mine-."
Nny: Nny strokes Teatime's wrist at that, sending him a wave of love and reassurance.
"Mr Teatime," Claire says, somehow making it clear that she's addressing Nny this time. "Can I assume that coming to see me today was your idea?"
Nny: "I, um. I guess so. I suggested it, yeah."
"Could you explain to me why you decided to do that?"
Nny: "Because..." Nny glances at Teatime. "Because he still believes in what -they- told him he shouldn't do. Even though they hurt him and... and did things they shouldn't have."
"By that, you mean restraining him while he was a child?"
Nny: He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "That. And the other things."
Claire glances up from her notes, looking at both Teatimes. "Other things?"
Nny: Nny gives Teatime an uneasy glance. "They did... bad things."
Teatime: Teatime says nothing, watching Nny evenly.
"If you don't want to continue, Mr Teatime, that's your choice; however, I'd like you to know that the more I understand about the situation, the more help I'll be able to give you. But please, only tell me what you're comfortable with revealing."
Nny: "It's not mine to reveal, though, is it?" He gives Teatime another almost-pleading look. But surely this woman gets the gist of what he's trying to say?
Teatime: "They had this... thing," Teatime says, slowly.
Nny: Nny grips Teatime's hand at that, crushingly tightly.
Teatime: "It was..." Now it's Teatime's turn to look at Nny - how do you describe something like that? "It had - it fitted around..."
Nny: "It was a damned -torture- device, is what it was!"
Claire puts her glasses back on, watching the both of them with her eyebrows knitted together. "Torture device?"
Nny: Nny looks down, feeling he's said too much already. "It's not my past to talk about."
Teatime: "You can," Teatime says. "If you want. You - know, after all. You saw it."
Nny: "It was a thing. A thing they made him -wear-. A little metal tube with spikes on it. Like some sort of fetish shit, only on a KID. And they did -other- things, too."
"Let me make sure I've got this straight, Mr Teatime," Claire says. "Are you describing some kind of... chastity-belt?"
Nny: "Yeah. Something like that."
Teatime: "I didn't like it," Teatime says, in case this wasn't clear. "It was... and I couldn't really move, of course. So I couldn't struggle."
Nny: It's obvious that hearing Teatime's understated dislike makes Nny frustrated, angry, and more protective than ever. He turns toward his husband, seeming to not even know Claire's still in the room. "No one. No one should ever touch you like that."
Teatime: "I don't let them -now-, of course." Teatime smiles, touches Nny's face. "You know that."
Nny: "And they won't do it again. Not ever again."
Teatime: "No. Never."
Nny: "We made -sure-." A slow, intense grin. "And we'd do it again."
Teatime: Teatime nods, apparently somewhat reassured by this; Claire shifts uncomfortably.
Nny: Nny leans a little closer to Claire, still clutching Teatime's hand. "Are you going to say anything -useful-, or is this just upsetting my husband for nothing?"
The therapist sits up a little straighter. She looks Nny in the eye. "Recovering from the kind of abuse you've described if often upsetting by necessity, especially when certain attitudes have become internalized, or coping mechanisms have become outmoded. And as for being useful... Mr Teatime, I need to know what it is that you and your husband -want- from these sessions. I need to know what you would regard as a useful outcome."
Nny: After a few quiet, thoughtful moments, Nny speaks again, softly. "I want. I want Teatime to decide if he wants to... do things, or not do them... because of what -he- wants, and not because of what -they- told him."
Claire nods, making another note. "And do you mean personal choices, sexual choices, career choices...? A combination?"
Nny: "-Any- choices. He's not -theirs-. I don't like them still being able to control him."
Teatime: Teatime frowns. "They -don't- control me, Nny. I do what I like."
Nny: "So you like that you're 'not supposed to' jack off like anyone else?"
Teatime: He folds his arms over his chest. "I don't care. i don't -want- to. And I don't mind doing it when you want me to, so I don't see why it bothers you so much."
Nny: "It bothers me that you're -scared- to. You shouldn't be -scared- to."
Teatime: "I'm -not-!" His voice, high and vehement, betrays the falsehood.
"Mr. Teatime," Claire interjects, turning her attention to Teatime. "You seem a little stressed. Would a one-on-one session be easier for you?"
Teatime: "A..." Teatime blinks - it's clear he'd forgotten about the therapist's presence. "Without Nny?"
"That might be more productive. It might be easier for you to speak freely."
Teatime: "But he's -mine-."
"That's not really the -point-, Mr. Teatime. It's a confidentiality issue. Are you saying you wouldn't feel a little freer to speak your mind if you weren't trying to keep from upsetting your husband?"
Teatime: He glances over at Nny. "Why would I say things to -you- that I wouldn't say to him?"
Only her professional training keeps Claire from blurting out 'because I'm not a hair trigger lunatic'. "Because you're not concerned about upsetting me, perhaps?"
Teatime: "I don't tend to notice I'm upsetting people until I 've already done so." Clearly, in this instance, Teatime means 'Nny' when he says 'people'; he wouldn't notice or care in the -slightest- if he upset someone else.
"All the more reason for individual therapy, wouldn't you say? I'd like for you to be able to speak freely."
Teatime: Teatime regards her with deep suspicion. "No. I want him here."
Nny: Nny squeezes Teatime's hand firmly, ignoring Claire's look of barely contained exasperation.
Teatime: "-You- don't want to go, do you, Nny?"
Nny: "-No-," he says firmly. "I'm not going to -abandon- Teatime."
Teatime: The triumphant look Teatime gives Claire at that saves him from having to actually say 'so there' out loud.
Nny: Nny sends a wave of protective affection to Teatime; all the things he's hesitant to say in front of Claire are merged into it.
Teatime: "So," Teatime says, fortified by the wave of affection. "What do you want to ask me, that you don't want to say in front of my husband?" The cheerful, hostile grin is back.
"I've observed that your, ah, sexual..." She hastily bites back the word 'dysfunction'. "-inhibitions- appear to be a source of conflict."
Teatime: "... Nny would like for me to do certain things, yes," Teatime responds, slowly.
"And you find these... certain things... difficult? Or are you simply disinterested?"
Teatime: "I wasn't interested in any of those sorts of things for a very long time."
Claire makes further notes. "And now?"
Teatime: "I like to do things with Nny, now." He makes a small noise as if to continue before stopping and falling silent again.
"...and?"
Teatime: "As I said. Nny wants me to be able to do - things like that - whilst I'm on my own. I don't quite understand the need."
"Perhaps he simply dislikes that you still feel constrained by your upbringing?"
Teatime: "I have to be -careful-," Teatime says through a tight smile.
"Why do you feel you have to be careful?"
Teatime: "Because --" He looks at both of them, something approaching a shadow of one of Nny's scowls flitting across his face. "I know they wouldn't be allowed. I know we'd kill them afterwards, if they did. But that doesn't mean..."
"Doesn't mean what, Mr. Teatime?" She deliberately ignores the 'killed' part.
Teatime: His expression changes entirely, back into the huge (and entirely false) grin. "It doesn't mean that it -couldn't- happen again. We'd find them. I know we'd find them and let them know that they shouldn't. But that doesn't -mean-..."
"Can you tell me what it doesn't mean?"
Teatime: "It doesn't mean that it -couldn't happen again-," Teatime repeats. "It could. And I didn't like it." One eye twitches, and it becomes difficult to prevent his anger from sliding through their connection to Nny.
"What couldn't happen again, Mr. Teatime?" Her voice is cool and neutral.
Teatime: "I told you. Nny and I explained it to you."
"Do you honestly think that the people who raised you are going to track you down now and punish you for your sexuality? You aren't a helpless child anymore. You can make your own decisions."
Teatime: Teatime glares at her. "I know that."
"But you still have these irrational fears?"
Teatime: Twitch. With great restraint, Teatime manages to stop himself from telling the woman to just -shut up-; Nny wanted him to do this, after all. "I know that I'm not a -child-, Miss," he says. "And I'm not stupid enough to think my teachers will find me, as they're now all dead. But I know that -circumstance- can conspire in such a way that..."
"You think random circumstance will put you in a chastity belt? If nothing else, your husband seems intent on preventing that."
Teatime: "I don't like you," Teatime announces, mismatched glare intensifying.
"Are my questions making you uncomfortable, Mr. Teatime? Why do you think that is?"
Teatime: "Because they're -rude-. You're rude."
"What makes you feel that I'm being rude?"
Teatime: "You're asking unkind questions. You're implying that I'm being silly and childish."
"I don't think you're being silly or childish, Mr. Teatime. I think some people treated you very badly when you were young and you're having a bit of trouble moving past that."
Teatime: "Nny got hurt," Teatime says suddenly. "In that way. We hunted down the thing that did it and we made it hurt very, very badly, but he didn't break any rules and he wasn't a child and -he- got hurt, too. I am -not- being irrational." Remembering this brings old outrage to the surface; Teatime grips Nny's hand very tightly.
Nny: Nny squeezes Teatime's hand in return, just as tightly, and turns his face away; he dislikes being reminded of that incident.
It takes Claire a moment to decipher the Teatime-speak, and another to formulate a response. "If he didn't violate these... rules... of yours, do you still think that holding to them affords you some form of protection?"
Teatime: "It doesn't invite punishment."
"Punishment implies that someone is judging you and choosing to punish you. Who do you think would do that?"
Teatime: "I don't know." Teatime glances at Nny, concerned.
Nny: Nny sends a wave of reassurance, stroking the back of Teatime's hand.
"Have you ever allowed yourself to consider that perhaps these fears are groundless?"
Teatime: "No. I'm not often wrong about things."
"But you've admitted to some uncertainty about this."
Teatime: Teatime opens his mouth, then shuts it. "Nny thinks..."
"What does Nny think?"
Teatime: "That I should be able to. That it's alright if I do." He shifts a little. "I wouldn't have tried much without Nny."
"And has anyone punished you for this... trying?"
Nny: Nny edges closer to Teatime, sending a flicker of approval and affection.
Teatime: "No." Feeling Nny coming closer, Teatime tugs at him, encouraging him. He wants Nny as near to him as possible.
"And does that tell you anything?"
Teatime: "That I can do things when it's with Nny."
"You don't think you're entitled to freedom on your own?"
Teatime: "I have freedom. I don't see why -sex-," (Teatime pronounces the word as if it's something deeply unpleasant) "is a measure of -freedom-. It isn't even - I don't want to do things on my own. I can do the things I like with Nny, and I'm allowed to say no to the things I don't."
"The issue isn't so much sex as it is making your own choices. Do you usually let others make your choices for you?"
Teatime: "No," Teatime answers, automatically - then pauses, becoming thoughtful. "... sometimes," he allows.
Claire can't help raising an eyebrow slightly. "And when would this be?"
Teatime: "I try not to do things that Nny's told me upset him. Like lying or getting shot. And we play games sometimes."
Guessing at the nature of these 'games', Claire blushes somewhat, and oddly, so does Nny. "But you're still making a conscious decision to respect someone else's wishes. You don't feel that you're being forced to comply."
Teatime: "Not now, no."
"So do you think, perhaps, just maybe, your conviction that someone will punish you is out of date?"
Teatime: "No. And I don't... I don't think that it's -certain-. Circumstances are somewhat different. I'd simply... rather not court the possibility for something I don't have much interest in."
"I think you might be holding on to outmoded coping mechanisms, Mr. Teatime. There was a time when you couldn't keep from being punished cruelly and arbitrarily, but that time is past."
Teatime: "Yes. And I'd like it to stay that way."
"Tell me, Mr. Teatime, what are -you- hoping to get out of therapy?"
Teatime: "Nny wanted me to come. And I didn't like it when we fought the other day." Teatime thinks for a moment. "I suppose it... might be nice to not panic at some things. I seem to say no to an awful lot more things than Nny does."
"Have you considered that the way to stop panicking might be to start rethinking some of your basic assumptions?"
Teatime: "What do you mean?"
"Well, we can start with the assumption that you'll be punished for certain behaviours."
Teatime: Teatime watches Claire in silence, fingers twining with Nny's.
Nny: Nny studies Teatime's expression closely, still holding his hand in a death grip.
"Well, Mr. Teatime, I think we're just about out of time, but until our next session, do you think you could do a simple exercise for me?"
Teatime: "Perhaps," Teatime says, a little warily.
"Once every day I'd like you to remind yourself, consciously, that you're not a little boy, and no one is going to punish you for your actions. I want you to remind yourself that you have the right to, er, masturbate, and that if you don't, it's because you choose not to, it's because you don't wish to, not because you're afraid. Do you think you can do that?"
Teatime: Teatime blinks; this isn't the sort of task he'd expected at all. "I've just to think that?"
"I know it sounds simple, but really convincing yourself is going to take work. You've held these assumptions for a long time."
Teatime: "Alright," he says, sounding thoughtful.
"So, I'd like you to start with that until our next session. I'm also going to write you a prescription for Xanax... you're only to take it if you feel yourself starting to panic."
Teatime: "... a -what-?"
Claire looks at him, baffled. "A prescription. For medication. You can get it filled at any pharmacy."
Teatime: "I'm not unwell."
Nny: "This is to make you more comfortable, and help keep you from panicking."
"I don't want it. I won't panic unless my wrists are tied, and we know not to do that now."
Nny: She blushes again at the reference to bondage. "You're not required to take it, of course."
Teatime: "Then it's silly that I take any at all."
"That's your decision, of course. Now, if you'd care to make an appointment for next week with the receptionist?" Her tone is polite, but the dismissal is clear.
Teatime: Teatime bounces to his feet. He's still holding Nny's hand, but he moves to shake Claire's with his free one. "Thank you very much."
"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Teatime. I hope our sessions will be productive."
Teatime: Smiling, Teatime says, "I still don't like you much. I'm sure we can be friends, though, can't we?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter if we're friends, Mr. Teatime. I'm your therapist, and I'm here to help you."
Teatime: He regards her oddly for a moment before shrugging. "Shall we go, then, Nny?"
Nny: Nny wraps an arm firmly around Teatime's waist. "Yeah, I think so. What would you like to do now?"
Teatime: Walking out of the room without a backward glance, Teatime ponders, "Should we make another appointment, then? I didn't like her. I think she came awfully close to being unkind."
Nny: "I don't think therapists are supposed to be kind, necessarily, as long as they do their job."
Teatime: "Oh. Well." He kisses Nny's shoulder. "People -should- be nice, though." Nevertheless, he stops by the receptionist's desk before they leave.
Nny: Nny clings protectively to Teatime as he sets up his next appointment, sending unconscious waves of reassurance.
Teatime: Teatime leans into Nny, turning his head to plant another soft kiss on him - his jaw, this time. "Let's go home."
Nny: "Home." Nny says softly. "Yes."
Teatime: Considering that they're presumably going to be in this particular building fairly often, Teatime waits until they're a little way down the street before he apparates them back to the apartment.
