Counterpoint, Part 2

Posted on Wed Aug 20th, 2014 @ 7:31am by Lieutenant Jensen Foster & Commander Rylie Cattmor

3,528 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: What Dreams May Come
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: After the briefing, on our way

Excerpt from "Counterpoint"

Jensen snapped his eyes open and took a deep breath. He willed the memory of Kai and that fateful day away. He willed all the memories, the faces, the voices... all of it away.

No!

Suddenly his mind was his own again, he wasn't a prisoner of his failures. Of those he'd failed. Of the one he'd failed.

Rylie had closed her eyes again, and almost bit her tongue in desperate concentration, Jensen's thoughts and emotions hammering into her mind with such force, intensity, and vividness they were almost mirrored on her own psyche; the markings around her eyes flaring and burning with such ferocity they almost glowed. The tenseness in her shoulders started to return as it had in the hydroponics bay the previous night, and her heartbeat accelerated, feeling like it was beating in her throat and up toward her temples. She could feel the deck plating start to vibrate along with the glass window to the CMO's office as she raised her hands to the sides of her face, the lone PADD on the desk in the office clattering its way along to the edge.


And now the conclusion...

~~~~

Stop... Nolin projected, Stop, and be calm, make the water still.

Rylie just couldn't concentrate though, try as she might, the memory of the night terror was just too fresh, too strong in her mind for her to do much else than shiver with fright at what had happened; the row of flowers behind the head board of the bed had already paid the price when she woke with such a start it shattered the ceramic to the size of rock salt crystals. Luckily the lily water bowl on one of the night stands survived with a slight crack in the outer shell, but the PADD on the other was just splintered beyond repair.

Nolin had taken Rylie in aboard the Eridani as he was requested, when it seemed like he was the only one she'd apparently warmed up to. The noise had woken them both, and the resultant tremors threatened the structural integrity of the bulkhead as he rushed in her room to attempt to calm her down, to focus her mind back to the present. Rylie finally started to breathe at a normal, steady rate again, as her heart slowed. That's it, come back to us now. Nolin continued telepathically feeling her bringing it all back under control.

She blinked several times as her eyes focused more on her actual surroundings than on the vivid memory of her past. "Wh... What happened?" she stammered in a whisper.

"You had another bad dream." Nolin answered calmly, this was not the first time they had gone through this.

She looked around at the dirt sprayed on the wall and across her pillow from the plant pots, and surveyed the damage to the other artefacts beside her bed, including the crack in the night stand under the shattered remnants of the PADD. She tried to hold back a tear as her breathing began to quicken again finally realising what she'd done, but in the end just curled back up on the bed, her back to Nolin, grabbing the only clean pillow and pulling it tightly into her chest. "When will this stop?"

"I don't know that it will." Nolin answered honestly, wishing he had another response.

Rylie just let out a soft whimper as the echoes of the dream dispersed a little and gave way to Nolin's thoughts, as well as the occupant in the next quarters, still up and awake working on his report for the science chief for his observations of the stellar cluster they were studying, along with his theories on the apparently ordered velocity of the gas cloud particles. Nolin rested his hand on her arm and gave a light squeeze. Nolin? she projected, blinking her eyes, letting the well of a tear streak down her face toward the mattress.

Hmm? he replied telepathically, knowing Rylie sometimes preferred talking like this, as if someone else would hear if she spoke aloud.

I'm sorry. I can't stay here like this, if I can't control this... what if next time the whole bulkhead goes, just like the top of the tower? I'm a danger to everyone. she stated, with even her inner voice breaking.

Nolin sighed, out of empathy rather than frustration. We can continue to work on this, you make progress every time we try. You're exceptionally gifted Rylie, whether you realise it or not, and I know that you can learn to live with this and to temper it into your life.

~~~~

Eventually, she had tempered them down to such a point that mind quakes like those were relatively few and far between. But even so, it was still hard to control them when emotions were running a little too high, and she continued to force her eyes closed to increase her chances of getting this one under control and stop any damage from occurring. She must have been trying too hard though, for Jensen attempted to get her attention again --

Jensen walked over to Rylie and placed a hand on her shoulder. Now that he wasn't suffering himself, he could sense just how much he'd affected the Frian woman. He figured it wouldn't hurt to break protocol this once. "I am alright, Rylie," Jensen said, his voice soft and subdued. "And so are you. Just breath. Calm your mind."

He then had the urge to use his empathy in the only way he knew how in situations like this - to create a link between himself and the affected one. To bridge their emotional states so that he could ease their suffering. He'd only done a few times before, but knew it could help. He wanted to help. He didn't want to be a failure. But something inside him stilled his mental action. So instead he went back to just speaking.

"I must apologize to you. I thought I had a better handle on myself. On my emotions. My memories... I didn't mean to cause you harm. Please, it was not my intention, Rylie."

He looked at Cattmor, willing her to open her eyes and say something. It didn't help that he could feel just how much he'd affected her. It was painful to know that what'd happened to him, which made him feel bad enough, was hurting someone else... which made it that much more difficult.

Jensen's words echoed in her mind as if they were coming in stereo, standing between two speakers slightly out of sync. She also picked up on his natural impulse to empathically reach out to her and she doubled her efforts to close that door, locking it with the huge deadbolt and magnetic lock, along with activating her mental equivalent of one of Daddy's security privacy shields. Rylie was pleased Jensen didn't try to force the issue, as the result would have been extremely unpredictable.

After a few more seconds, the rattling of the window pane ceased as Rylie bit her lower lip, a nervous gesture as well as intense concentration, and slowly opened her eyes, barely registering his hand on her shoulder. Her breathing was still a bit laboured and quick, and her eyes were not able to focus on Jensen as they flitted down and to the side, blinking to try to normalize everything once again. She finally looked the doctor in the eye again, emotions somewhere between frustration and fear; having had two episodes so close together. At least she'd managed to stop this one.

Rylie's brow furrowed slightly before she backed away, turned and headed toward the door a few paces, then turned back toward Foster before the doors had a chance to open. She was a little frustrated, at least given current events and at the apparent ease of Jensen's ability to shut down, even envious of it. "How do you do it, Lieutenant? You have a lot of bad places in your head, and I can't help but pick up every little nuance, every leaked thought. I mention one thing off-handedly, and your mind goes on a whirlwind ride of plagues and destruction, and then you can just shut it off with a word." There was a poignant pause between them before Rylie suddenly moistened her lips and ended with "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." And turned to leave until Jensen stopped her with a word.

"No, don't be. I don't mind. Ask me that question. Ask me any question you have." Jensen looked deeply into her crystalline green eyes as she turned to face him again, searching to see if she understood that they were more similar than the average humanoid would believe at first glance. "I've never met anyone who shares similar gifts to mine. It's kind of a relief to know that I'm not the only one who's gifted as strongly."

"Gift." Rylie stifled a laugh thinking of the ironic description of their abilities. "Lieutenant, I can probably count the times on one hand that I have genuinely thought of my... talent for lack of a better word, as a gift. What about you?" She asked as her stomach knotted and her emotions started to get the better of her thrice in so many hours, the guilty pang on her nerves being felt with alarming intensity making her temples flare again. "Have you ever been in someone's mind when their brain gets splattered across a wall? Or, been the cause of their synapses and neural pathways overloading to such a degree that they overcook and leak blood out of every orifice in their head?" she asked somewhere in the middle of anger and sorrow.

Placing a hand over his eyes for a few seconds, Jensen allowed himself to roll with the emotions radiating from Cattmor. Removing his hand after a few seconds, he replied, "Mine hasn't been a 'gift' all the time. Especially with all I've dealt with in the last year. But when it really counts and makes a difference - those are the times I consider it a gift."

From Rylie's point of view, Jensen really did mean that, and it was a sobering thought. The only real way that Rylie's talent had made any real difference was working in the slum crime syndicate on Athera, but picking up Foster's recollection of a couple of times he'd felt that, was almost blissful, and made her hereditary temple markings show in sharp relief for a few more seconds.

Watching the beautiful flaring along the Frian woman's temples subside a touch, Jensen said, "And no, I've never been in those situations. But I have been so overcome with emotional turmoil, from others, that I've lashed out at them. Reflected those emotions tenfold back on them. I've caused others to feel so much pain and suffering that I've essentially caused everyone within a fifty-foot radius to go into an emotional coma. One from which they'll never recover and that traps them in that agony for the rest of their lives."

He paused long enough to take a calming breath, realizing that he was getting worked up again. He closed his eyes and willed himself to get under control.

Opening his eyes a few seconds later, he replied, softly, "I may not be telepathic or be able to ruin a mind quite like you can, but my empathy is so strong that I can do some serious damage. Irrevocable damage." Smiling sardonically, he said, "My parents and other telepaths have told me that my empathy is so strong that it hinders on being almost full blown telepathy. They seem to think that under the right circumstances it would become full blown telepathy, but that the backlash from my psionic ability evolving that far would kill me. Either that or all my other abilities would become active as well. I'm not just incredibly empathic, but have the potential to possess every psionic ability known to this universe."

Pausing again, he took a moment to collect himself. After a few seconds he added, "It's because of my dormant psionic potential that I 'shut down' whenever I can. I'm afraid of what I may become someday. My empathy is just the tip of the iceberg, Lieutenant Commander. And the part that's hiding underneath the waves, it scares me. Especially if it could kill me."

Cattmor practically felt like pulling up a chair. Now that they had come into one another's sole orbit without any other distractions, she could feel they were finally and just about managing to get a grip on their respective abilities and have a conversation. And apart from with Nolin and very few others, these were conversations that Rylie wanted to have. Her PI score defined her on her home world as being part of the top elite, the most powerful group of telepaths the Frian had that were so few in number, they were almost an extinct part of the species; that she was able to function without any of the associated stigma, or health and mental problems was even more unusual.

"That would probably scare a lot of people." Rylie said quietly. She took a breath before taking a step closer to Foster and continuing in a thoughtful tone and not to Jensen in particular, "We both seem to have to live with the fear on a daily basis of what might happen if we did lose control; you having to temper your emotional outlook to keep everyone from turning into emotional zombies, me creating a wave that would threaten to tear this ship apart, or at the very least shred the minds of half the crew."

She then decided to ask something of her own that she'd never thought she'd ask anyone else, not caring if it broached on protocol or not, "How do we, people like us, function in a place like this?" It was almost phrased as a rhetorical question, but if Jensen had an answer, she would love to hear it.

Jensen took in what Cattmor said, tossing it around in his mind to see if he really had an answer to her almost-rhetorical question. All he managed to come up with was, "I'm not entirely sure, Lieutenant Commander. That is one of the questions I've struggled with since joining the Academy."

"The Academy was difficult for me to acclimate to." Rylie said, reminiscing a little too much about the past before a thought came to her, something she hadn't had access to for many years, and something she hadn't felt she needed for a while. "But perhaps this place may not have to be."

"Perphaps not..." Jensen resounded, for a moment feeling his hopes take flight. It would be nice to finally have a place where he fit in, where someone understood. His inner thoughts quieted enough for him to catch the next thing Cattmor said.

"I wouldn't like to promise anything, but perhaps there's a way we could help each other deal with the uncertainty and danger that each of our abilities brings, especially how hard it's been of late. For better or worse, this is an emotionally charged crew," she said with a slight smile, "and that's not easy for either of us. The more emotional someone gets, the easier it is for me to pick up their thoughts, even another telepath trying to block it. An actual telepath can attempt to block their thoughts being broadcast and picked up, and while thoughts and emotion are different, and I'm not as good as some I've met, I could try to help you limit their impact."

No-one had been able to really help Rylie in the past, her talent just being too acute, but as she'd thought, and Jensen had confirmed, he was just different. Maybe different could help this time around. "It's never worked in the past, at least without artificial aid, which is just cheating, but I would really like to be able to just shut off when I want to." She said, her voice virtually breaking, thinking how useful it would have been in the past if she'd have been able to.

"I will take any help I can get. I also agree with the use of artificial aids as cheating - never once have I implored about getting an aid for my ability. Which is probably how I've managed to control it as of yet. And since I have managed to get a grip on it and 'shut it off', maybe an empathic link would help? Not anything too invasive, but just enough for me to give you a little nudge in the right direction? Of course this would be with your permission."

He paused and then elaborated: "When I was in the Academy, my empathy was much worse than it is now. If it hadn't been for my friend T'Mir helping me learn meditation exercises in conjunction with Vulcan mind-melds... well, lets just say that I probably wouldn't be serving on a Starfleet vessel right now, but be back on Earth or Betazed helping out there."

Rylie took in a sharp breath. "Well," she started, pausing a moment; on one hand she wanted to stay, to continue discussing happenings of the past along with future possibilities, but on the other, the meeting had been a hard and emotional ride for them both, and she felt drained. She also wanted to avoid his broaching of the subject of linking empathically, not because it was Jensen, but because she'd done it before and it tended to be as uncomfortable as when she met Cole. She was also technically on duty, but she now felt she had to have some time to herself and wanted to go back to the privacy of her quarters, even for just a little while. "I'd love to hear about it, but perhaps another time, Lieutenant. If you'd like, we can set up a time this evening after our shifts end to start seeing if there's anything we can do for each other?"

Sensing Cattmor's shifting emotions before she answered, Jensen wasn't offended by her reply. He kind of expected it. But he understood. He may have mentioned linking empathically, but he'd never linked with such a strong telepath before.

He was about to agree to a meeting this evening when he suddenly remembered about his dinner plans with Lieutenant Nichol. He'd nearly forgotten about, what with everything going on today so far. Feeling himself blush, he replied, "Another time, Lieutenant Commander. I already have plans this evening with another crew member, otherwise I would say yes to meeting up later."

He paused, just long enough to reign in his own emotions and take stock of himself. He really wanted to get back to work, now that he thought about it. Something to focus on that wouldn't require more than the knowledge of medical studies and procedures. Plus, he was still very curious about his Diomedian scarlet moss.

Smiling gently at Cattmor, he continued: "Perhaps tomorrow evening or whenever is most convenient for you? My quarters are always a welcome place for you to visit if you ever have need of me."

From the privacy of her own quarters, to the privacy of his almost sounded like Jensen was propositioning a date, that was if she wasn't already aware of Mister Foster's alignment. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time someone had tried something like that. "Perhaps another time then, Lieutenant," she almost repeated giving a slight nod, "though I would prefer some more neutral ground to try this, perhaps the holodeck? Maybe tomorrow, say seventeen hundred?" she asked, slightly disappointed about not being able to jump on the possibility sooner, especially after putting herself out there like she had - she was usually a lot more reserved than that.

"Tomorrow around seventeen hundred sounds good," Jensen replied smiling. He had to fight to keep the smile genuine as he was feeling a little guilty for Cattmor's disappointment - not just because of his date, but also because he had actually wanted to see what would happen between them.

Taking a breath, Jensen said, "Until tomorrow, then Commander. As for right now, I have to get back to work, as do you I'm sure. I'll let you know as soon as I have finished looking over the crew manifest and chosen a few candidates. Once I've notified you, I'll see if I can work floater shifts here in Sickbay."

"Of course." Rylie replied simply, surreptitiously drawing a strand of hair to cover slightly more of the still stinging highlights around her eyes; then nodded and left.

Jensen looked on for a few seconds after Cattmor left. Shaking his head slightly, he turned and headed back to the lab, wanting to clear his mind for a while and to check on his moss. He'd think over all that had happened later, after his shift, and then he'd meditate and enjoy his evening.

 

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