Chương 95: Vindictive

Hundreds of cats leering down on you will never take you out of the hot seat. It didn't matter that they were all fake little decorations in an office. It was a lingering presence that weighed itself upon me heavier than that crab. I wondered if that was intentional. Maybe Eliza was truly the ultimate supervillain, putting me constantly on my nerves with all the fucking cat memorabilia.

"Heavens to Betsy, you put your pen down somewhere and it grows a pair of legs and just waddles off!" She mused as she was looking through her desk. Maybe I was for once being too paranoid. Finally giving up on her search and procuring a pencil instead, she began filling out a notepad as she spoke.

"Right, Leo. Normally our psych evals are very quick, since you've been on a quick mend in recent events. But I wanted to do this sort of two-pronged look at you today for this one, okay?" She asked.

"What do you mean two-pronged?"

"I want to do two things at once," she explained as she leaned back in her seat, hand resting on her notepad.

"Not in any real necessary order, but one of them is going over your views on what just happened in Virginia Beach. The other is just sort of a retrospective on how things have been since the events of that raid. We can go over those however you want." She'd been doing great at not making me take initiative for these evaluations, so of course now that was going to be thrown in my face by putting me on the spot with deciding something like this.

"I…" I started, trying to find a square inch of the room that didn't have Eliza or a cat. I stuck with focusing on the ice in her glass of water.

"I don't really keep track of my state of being on these things. Never really felt the need to compare."

"Well of course, but I do think there's definitely some measure of difference on the exterior, but do you not have any words for what's on the interior?" I inhaled, and slowly exhaled.

"I just don't know. That's kind of how it always is, though. Part of me thinks I've improved since the raid in some ways, like I just almost have things put together, but just…" My focus on the ice cubes strengthened. One started to melt enough that their balance was shifting.

"So much seems out of reach."

"Like what?"

"Like with Chris. He said how I talked about things wasn't how a normal eighteen year old talked. I don't know how normal eighteen year olds talk. Nothing about me is normal."

"That's a very common thought for young men around your age."

"How many have that thought because they're orphans who can't remember their goddamn life?" I pointed out.

"Not very many, but plenty have been through all sorts of traumatic situations. What you've gone through is as real as the sun is shining, don't ever let someone invalidate that, but please don't think you're isolated in feeling abnormal because of how hard life has been. You aren't defective or built incorrectly, Leo."

"It's not that, it's just…" I trailed off, seeing which ice cube would slip up to the top of the water. None wanted to make the first move.

"You think he'd be more understanding about my situation."

"Do you think he was being mean-spirited?"

"No. Not at all." I shook my head.

"He seemed like he was trying to tell me I changed, maybe for the better, that I was comfortable with being 'theatrical' or whatever. Just didn't need the reminder that nothing about me is really normal."

"Do you entirely think that's what it's about?" She asked, pen flicking away at her pad.

"What do you mean?" She looked up from her pad, pen erect in the air.

"I believe you when you say it's about feeling othered, or seen as abnormal. But do you feel that's exclusively it? Do you think there might be any other feelings in there?" Leaning back against that stupid beanbag seat she had earmarked for me, I shook my head.

"I wouldn't even know where to start. Maybe. But I wouldn't even know what words they are for it."

"I think there might be something with how you mentioned being changed. I don't think you're a fan of change, very much."

"If I hated change, I wouldn't be here."

"Never said you hated, I said weren't a fan of. You're a very adaptable young man. But I think there might be some reticence. Perhaps you're a bit scared of thinking you've changed."

"But there's nothing to be scared of, I think." My eyes finally moved from the glass to hers. I did feel different. That didn't sit with me right, but I didn't know if there was a fear in there.

"Perhaps — and this is just my theory from my own observations of you, don't take it as a diagnosis — but perhaps you put a lot of your identity in who you used to be, and you're scared that change might take who you are away? As though if you changed, you wouldn't be yourself anymore?" Fuck.

"I…" I trailed off.

"I don't know."

"Like I said, just a theory. I'm not in your brain. I'm just trying to look at it from what I'm seeing, why you might be so resistant to change. Memories build a lot of foundation to our identities. A lack of them means you're missing a key foundation, and so losing what you do have tends to carries a lot more weight. If you don't think that's the case, that's okay. You're more than allowed to push back here, Leo." A deep inhale. Trying to piece myself together.

"Eliza, I just. I don't think about these things. I lived in garages and abandoned squats for half a year. This isn't normal for me. I once went two months without talking to anyone. You're asking me to think about stuff I've never even imagined."

"That's okay. We can put that theory aside for now." She reached up, gesturing off to my side, to some part of the office behind me.

"You're more than free to leave it in a little box in the corner of the room. We can talk about something else instead." I nodded.

"Alright. Yeah. Let's do that." Didn't know how you put that stuff in a box, but I wasn't going to turn the offer down.

"How about a positive? Anything good you can think of that's happened lately, perhaps?"

"…No. Not really."

"Nothing at all? Stopping a few supervillains almost entirely by yourself, like with the bull fellow, or that one with the cars?"

"I was just doing the right thing. I can't call doing the bare minimum a positive. I can't get complacent."

"How do you think you would be getting complacent? As in, what do you think would cause that complacency? What would it look like?" Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I threw my hands up for a second, almost defeated by the question.

"I'm not sure. Maybe I just treat it like 'that's that' when they're in cuffs. Don't try to look further into it. My hunger is what I am, I guess. I just can't stop at saying a few scumbags are in jail." She set her pen down for a moment after scribbling something.

"Your hunger?"

"No idea what else to call it. Just this… this need to help. I can't ignore it. Everything inside me knows it's the right thing to do and I can't ignore that. Would be like ignoring breathing." Eliza began whittling away at the pad again with her pen, speaking as she did so.

"How does it feel when you help satiate that hunger? Good?"

"I don't know. Just feels… right. Like all my clothes fit comfortably, I'm not tense, my mind isn't racing." She nodded.

"I see. I've noticed your mind hasn't really been 'racing' for some time. Do you think that has to do with how much good you've been doing?"

"No… I don't think so. The training, with Casney, initially they put this fucking collar on me. Sam did it, really. Strapped it to my neck. If I thought too much or let too much of my strength out, I'd get zapped. Casney would beat the shit out of me while it happened. Had to force my brain to hold back. Haven't been able to think like I used to since then. I can get the strength out, but my mind doesn't think as much as it used to." There was a bit of silence. No sound of pen on paper. No words from Eliza.

Just the hands of a clock ticking by.

"I'm sorry. I knew you were undergoing training, but they don't tell me those details. Are… are they still doing that to you?"

"No. Once I kind of got the hang of it, we focused on other stuff. No torture."

"And how do you feel about that? About Agent Casney, and Sam?"

"First time it all happened, I killed Casney twelve times over. Bastard kept getting up. That felt good. Only time anything felt good."

"You felt good while killing him," she asked, tone flat. I shook my head.

"Stopping him. Getting some sort of reckoning for what he did. Feels like that was the only time I was ever able to get even with someone."

"That..." she started, looking off to the side as she tried to put together her words.

"I'm going to be frank, that kind of vindictive behavior could prove troublesome if you dwell too much on it."

"I'm not being vindictive."

"You just explained how killing someone twelve times felt good."

"Because he tortured me. Was I supposed to feel good and forgiving about it? The second I knew he would be fine, I knew I could do something that he'd actually understand. He learned his lesson and we get on... better now. Not fine. But better."

"Alright," she conceded.

"I'm going to trust your words on that. And it's just him you've felt like that with, in terms of allies?'

"Well, yeah. Not like I could do it with Sam."

"Why not?" She asked, as though there was any answer but the obvious one.

"She's a regular person, physically. Casney heals from anything I can do to him. She can't."

"Well, it's good to know there's a moral reason to it."

"Thanks, Eliza."

"No, no, I'm being serious. I imagine there's a lot of relational friction with Sam after that. Did she tell you in advance about the collar?"

"…No. Told me it was just to check my vitals. She looked like she was going to die when I finally looked at her through the window, after everything that happened." My hands found little snags in the beanbag chair. Imperfections in the material where individual pieces of fabric stuck out thicker and individually. Something to distract my hands with.

"And why do you think she looked like that?"

"Because she's like everyone else. Like how Perry described me. Like a bomb. Thought I was going to go off in her face."

"I don't see you like that, Leo."

"Yeah, because you know I'd get torn apart by the SIT if I did anything. Not that I would. But Sam outright told me when I called her out later."

"Well, no, I don't see you like that because I know you are a person with a heart and brain who feels things and, among most of my clients, you feel them very hard compared to others. Do you think maybe that look from her could have been shame?"

"If she felt shame, she wouldn't have done it."

"Do you think there's been any times where she may have done something regardless of the shame?" …Her kids. Nearly went to prison trying to make people who liked her. Maybe that collar was just the next step. Another way to control. My hands tensed up.

"I dunno," I lied. She nodded.

"I understand. It can be hard trying to think in another person's head. But have you tried looking at it from her perspective?"

"No, why would I? It wouldn't make me forgive her for what she did."

"Who said you had to forgive her?"

"What?" She placed her pen and paper down, clasping her hands.

"I never suggested you forgive her, Leo. You're allowed to recognize what she did to you was terrible, and it was. You don't need to forgive her. I'm just bringing her up as an example for how you tend to assume the worst motivations for how people perceive you. Compare it to what Chris said, about you not being a normal eighteen year old." My throat felt dry.

"That just-""Do you think maybe you're starting to build a bit of a case against yourself?" Looking at her directly, that dryness climbed from my throat into my sinuses.

"What?"

"Sorry, that was too aggressive a way to phrase it. I think you find some control and security in deciding that everyone has a… malicious perception of you. That's easier in some cases, like with Tancred, whom you've been very colorful with your opinions on."

"He's a psychopath who treats me like a dog on a leash."

"Case in point. But I think that method is to protect yourself. If everyone in your eyes has a reason to dislike you, you don't need to connect with them. You can stay safe by avoiding risking any sort of meaningful connection with stakes if you assume the worst. I wouldn't be surprised if that was a survival tool you built up during your vigilante days, when there weren't many people to trust."

"But I can fucking see it when they interact with me, Eliza." I dragged a palm across my face.

"Perry called me a bomb. Casney and Tancred see me as a weapon. Sam's fucking terrified of me and was fine with torturing me. Chris won't take me seriously because he's the one guy I can't even hit if I tried."

"What about May and Jairo? Or me? You mentioned a friend at college, I think his name was Tyson? Do you see them all as disliking you?" I shrugged.

"They have to. May knows I cost her her leg. Jairo was an athlete, he was always in some sort of competition with others. Seeing me with my strength probably pisses him off."

"Hm. I do have one other one, maybe, that I bet you can't conceive of that kind of excuse for." She tapped her pen on her notepad.

"What about the ADU member, Brother Gleditsia?"

"He's literally in the ADU! He's tried to kill me twice, he's talked about beating the shit out of me until I died!" She pointed her pen at me.

"That was instant. You started with a 'They have to' for May and Jairo. You needed time to justify it." I let out a shaky exhale, pushing myself up from the chair.

"If you're gonna hit me with this stupid bullshit and decide everything for me, why am I even here?"

"Because I wanted to make sure you were okay after what happened with Gleditsia."

"You think I need a whole therapy session for that? I'm pissed off! Yeah, I know his weakness now, but that cost me information against the guy who sees me as a weapon. And the one time I fucking saved something everyone else was clamoring to kill, I have that pulled out from under me by the fucking leafy asshole! After I get constant lectures by guys who haven't been in my position, I thought I was doing something right and I got punished for it." Dragging my palm across my face, I continued.

"You don't fucking get it. None of you do. Every time you all just seem to get things right on the first go and get rewarded for it, meanwhile every time I do everything right something comes out of nowhere and makes none of it matter. And now here you are, sitting in a situation where you're probably wrong, and you're just finding ways to twist and point me towards a conclusion." I made my way to the door.

"Put the eval as a fucking failure for all I care, put me in the Firmament. That's clearly the punchline here, you want to all mark me down as unstable." The door slammed behind me as I made my way back to my room, body shuddering. I kept my head down. Didn't want anyone to see the tears.