pretty boy.

Alright. S’long as ya apologized and meant it, I guess we ain’t got beef. You did that, right? 

Raf’s head nodded in understanding. Feeling a little hopeless was certainly a given in a situation like this, so whether this was just the general upset about the world they were currently living in or something deeper – Rafael was happy to help. 

“Okay, that’s a great goal,” he commented, a small smile on his face. “How would you know you’ve reached that point? Happy is a pretty subjective term, so – suppose a month or two from now, you’re at the point you want to be at, what would be different? Give me a couple of concrete examples.”

The question was a rough one. Jack didn’t know where to start, especially considering he had no idea where society would be in two months from now. Would they be back to normal? Or a new sort of normal? Or would they still be in this anarchist state of limbo? Jack didn’t know, and he didn’t know how he could find happiness in the limbo. So, he decided to default with an answer as if everything would be back to normal.

Considering this is the first time you’ve actually spoken more than 0 words to me, it’s the only shot I’ve got. But you know what? I’ll give you that. And like I said, I am pleasantly surprised with you opening your house to people. So good for you.

Just didn’t think your invitation would be open to everyone. Considering you’re none too fond of switches. 

Don’t know what to tell you, dude. I said it exactly how I meant it.

Huh…color me surprised. Pleasantly. But still surprised. 

This actually an invitation to everyone and anyone? Or just people that fit into your nice little bubble?

“I think we might need to talk about it a little more, but,” he paused, gaze briefly dropping to his notepad to write, “I’ll definitely circle back to that soon. I think finding a way to still engage in the things you enjoy is going to be good.”

He nodded along to what Jack was saying, mentally taking note. That wasn’t a terribly long time, then. Not long enough to constitute anything clinical, anyway. Not that it couldn’t become that in the future but it was a good indication for where they were at. Drawing in a slow breath, Raf noted that in his pad as well before focusing back on Jack fully. “Before I dive deeper into any of the topics you brought up – what ultimately hope to get out of this? You know, a few weeks or so from now, if we keep this up, what would the ideal goal of these talks being successful be for you?”

“I think so, too.” Or, well, he hoped so - he hoped that there was some way that the two of them could figure out to bring some sort of light back into his life. Jack remembered that - not so long ago - he used to think that New Eden was the definition of paradise. Now, he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. Paris sounded nice, from all of his parents’ talk about it. Maybe he’d go to Paris.

Jane Cleeves? She made a post about art classes? ..d-do you stick your head in the sand? I.. uh, outlet covers shouldn’t be too hard to find– but space might.. be an issue. 

Full house. I look forward to it — have you decided what to pay me with? And I’d like to know how that went, and why you decided to ultimately leave anyways.

Well, I.. mentioned something to Jane. I know I’m pretty good at storytelling– but maybe we can set up a daycare somewhere? The bookstore would be a pretty good place to have it, if you don’t mind that..

How.. noble of you. Are you going to be screening those who stay with you or open it up to anyone? It’s a dangerous game, that.

That’s a good idea, dude.. I don’t really have anyone that needs space or anything – but I’ll, uh, I’ll keep an ear out. But, I got a question for you– Didn’t you babysit your siblings a bit? I was thinking maybe, uhm.. We could do something specifically for kids– help them out while their parents or family are figuring things out or helping. Would you be into that? 

Another hum as James talked. Rafael noted that he hadn’t really answered his question, hadn’t told him whether he felt less motivated or inclined to do the activities he used to enjoy and instead listed external reasons that might keep him from partaking in them. But maybe digging that deep was more of a second appointment topic, anyway. Still, he made a note of it.

“That’s all very valid concerns. Perhaps we could brainstorm ideas on how to still do something involving those hobbies at some point?” he offered, a small smile on his lips before he moved on. “The empty feeling you mentioned – how long would you say that’s been persisting? Just since everything in the city happened or before that, too?”

“If you have any ideas, I’m open to hearing them.” That was, after all, why he’d decided to let people in his family home. He needed some sort of stability, some capability to take care of others. Doing his best to keep himself from chewing on his nails, he slid his hands into his pockets, looking down at the floor again.

Rafael hummed in response to Jack’s explanations, picking his pen back up and making a few notes of the topic. Sadness was one thing. Sadness was an emotion that passed. This emptiness was a potential topic to look into a little deeper. “And I assume you used to like submitting?” he questioned, taking the cue when it was offered. “Would you say you’re not really feeling up for a lot of the things you used to enjoy once?”

“It was my favorite thing in the world. Nothing used to make me feel better than that.” He sighed, looking down at his hands. “It’s just... not something that sounds appealing right now, not with everyone I know finding Claims, or pre-Claims, even through all of this, while I sit here alone. I don’t really have motivation anymore.” 

A lot indeed. Which wasn’t uncommon and first sessions were usually reserved for getting to know each other and taking stock of the issues at hand. On that topic, they were doing pretty well. The more Jack talked, the more of an idea Raf got of what the problems were, even if there were still plenty of blank spaces to fill in. But they had time to do that.

“I think it’s perfectly fine to feel sad about any of those things,” he pointed out. “But there’s a difference between certain levels of sad. When you say these things make you sad, can you try and describe to me how that usually feels for you?”

It was reassuring to hear that it was alright to feel sad about the things that he felt sad about. He had had enough with people who tried to take his sadness and turn it around on them. He’d spent enough time trying to help others at the hospital before being told that he wasn’t doing enough for himself, and, when he was trying to do things for himself, he felt selfish. 

While Raf had had half a mind to just listen at first, he did reach for the pen and notepad he’d brought now, flipping it open and jotting down a few keywoards. There was a lot Jack was touching on and there was no way they could work through all of that tomorrow. And the last thing Raf wanted was to forget something important when and if they saw each other again. 

“Okay, that’s – obviously, that’s a lot,” he offered after a moment, pen back down against the table and eyes on Jack. He hadn’t known about the psych ward – that made this much more serious than he’d originally accounted for. “You mentioned sadness. Let’s start with that. Tell me about it, please?”

A sarcastic voice at the back of Jack’s head commented on the fact that obviously, it was a lot. His shoulders felt heavy, his head the same. His hands felt like trembling, the same as his lower lip. Scratching at his bicep, he kept his eyes downwards, trying to keep himself from breaking down right then and there.