Jamie and Doc Samson

[x-crowdofone.livejournal.com]

In which Jamie, to no one's surprise I'm sure, turns out to be a little messed up about the potion incident. Takes place Saturday afternoon.


Jamie pushed open the door to Dr. Samson's office, and blinked. He'd sort of been expecting someone like the Professor, or . . . at least, y'know, old. This guy couldn't be any older than Jamie's dad, if that, and was built like he should be tossing people around a football field instead of getting inside people's heads. Also, the statement "Doc Samson has more hair than the Professor" was right up there in the finals for Understatement of the Year.

The doctor smiled, and came around his desk to offer Jamie his hand. He had a very likeable handshake; dry palm, firm grip, just long enough to say hi. "Good afternoon, Jamie; I'm Leonard Samson. Would you like to sit down?" Likeable voice, too.

"Sure," Jamie replied, and flopped into a chair. Samson took a more civilized seat--not behind the desk, Jamie noticed, which was nice, but in another comfortable chair facing him.

Samson took out a notebook and pen, then quirked an eyebrow. "I'd like to take notes during our conversation, if that's all right. I find they help me to remember details more easily after we're done, but I realize some people find the practice off-putting."

"No, yeah, that's fine, go ahead."

"Excellent." The doctor balanced the notebook on one broad knee, but put the pen down for the moment. "So, how are you doing?" Jamie looked dubious, and Samson chuckled. "I can do the shrink questions if you want, but they all pretty much boil down to 'how are you doing?'"

Jamie grinned. "And you had to go to school for how long?" He shook his head. "I've been pretty busy. Doug's needed a lot of help, and I've been keeping Kitty company, and visiting Lorna when she wants visitors, and making sure people eat and get their homework if they aren't going to class . . ."

"All worthy pursuits; you're a good friend. But, Jamie--I asked how you were doing, not what you were doing."

"Sorry."

"No, it's quite all right. Let's try something a little bit more specific. I'd like you to think of one word to describe how you're feeling right now."

"Just one?"

"You can elaborate as much as you want later, but start with just one, please."

Jamie thought for a moment. "Tired."

Samson chuckled. "Not surprising, considering what you've told me. What's making you feel the most tired?"

Jamie shifted uncomfortably. "Well--Doug, a lot. Angie and Alison and I have been making sure there's somebody with him all the time so he knows he's not alone, and doesn't do anything--well, anyway, that's been a pretty long week, but he's doing a lot better now. And Kitty, I don't like leaving her alone--she's been under a lot of stress even before all this happened, but she feels better when I'm there, and I do whatever I can think of to help her. And then, you know, school, and everything. But I'm not complaining or anything, it's stuff that needs doing and I can do it."

"Quite a lot of stuff, though." The doctor leaned forward, a spark of good humor in his eyes. "You do realize you're only one person, don't you? That no one is expecting you to fix everything?"

"Did they explain my mutant power, Doc?" Jamie snorted. "I'm anything from two to a dozen people on any given day."

Samson chuckled. "They did, yes. But from what I understand, however many bodies you're using, your mind stays the same." He cocked an eyebrow. "And you didn't answer my question. Do you think you need to fix everything?"

Jamie frowned. "It's not like that. Doug and Kitty--Doug's my best friend, and he needs my help, simple as that. And Kitty . . . she's the most important thing in my whole life, and she's been through so much pain lately, she needs me there for her. It doesn't--" He stopped, and sat back. "I have to be there for them."

"If you don't mind me asking . . . what doesn't? I'd like to encourage you to go with your first reaction, while we're talking--it's often the best one."

Jamie shrugged. "I was going to say, it doesn't matter what happens to me as long as they're okay."

"And you stopped yourself because . . ."

"Because I knew you'd make it into something it isn't. It's just a figure of speech. I mean, I'm short a little sleep, okay, but I can handle that, if that's what it takes so I don't let them down."

Samson looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, Jamie, I'm afraid I'm not following. It sounds to me like you're doing everything one might expect of a friend--going above and beyond the call of duty, in fact. How do you think you're letting them down?"

"See, this is why I didn't want to get into this--it's not that important."

"Indulge me anyway?"

Jamie sighed. "I just--okay, on Monday, before I found out what was going on, I came back to the room, and Kitty was kissing Doug." He winced at the memory. "And for a minute, I thought it was real--thought they really were--" He looked away. "I called Doug a traitor, for God's sake. I might as well have just walked up and kicked him in the gut. And Kitty, I couldn't even look at her. How could I possibly think--" Jamie broke off, swiping his forearm across his eyes.

"What happened then?" Samson asked softly.

"I ran. Couldn't face them, didn't wait to hear the explanation, I just--and then, way too late, I realized there had to be something hinky going on, because neither of them would ever do that. Which I should've seen right away, I shouldn't have had to think about it."

"Let's back up. At this point, you had no knowledge of the love potion?"

Jamie laughed harshly. "Love potion--hell, I still barely believe that's what happened. I mean, who believes in love potions? I thought it might be Manuel at first--I mean, he's an empath, I thought maybe he was leaking or something without knowing it. At least that I could have understood."

"So after walking in on your girlfriend kissing your best friend, you came independently to the conclusion, eventually proved correct, that they were not acting of their own free will. That's a great deal more benefit of the doubt than I think I could have managed, in that situation. Again, I'm left wondering as to how you might have let them down."

"Because I doubted them. Doug would gnaw off his own arm before he betrayed a friend, and Kitty . . . we've been through enough, and came out of it together, I should have known." He glared. "So whatever it takes, whatever it does to me, I have to make sure they come through this all right. Because I betrayed them once, and I am not doing it again."

"And what is it doing to you? You mentioned being short on sleep?"

"Yeah, some. Two-three days, maybe--I got some sleep the first night, but I've been spelling Angie and Alison when they're too tired to argue, so they're in better shape on their next turn, and sometimes Kitty wakes up in the night and I have to be there when she does." He shrugged. "When they're okay, I'll sleep then."

"That might be a long time."

"Whatever it takes."

"Jamie . . ." Samson sighed. "Has it occurred to you that if you push yourself until you collapse, that too will be letting them down? They need their friend, not this . . ." Samson waved his hand vaguely, "implacable engine of compassion you seem determined to make of yourself. You are, as far as I have seen, a remarkable young man, with remarkable abilities, but you still have human limitations, and by pushing them as you have done you risk your health. Mental and otherwise."

Jamie froze, then sagged. "Oh, hell. I'm such a moron."

"Hardly that. Overzealous . . . perhaps a trifle confused, but we'll blame that on fatigue. Your heart is in the right place--we just need to do something about your methods, hm?"

"Yeah, I guess so . . . so what now?" Jamie chuckled brokenly. "I don't know if I can stop. I've been running on momentum and caffeine since Thursday."

"Actually, that's precisely what I was going to suggest." Samson spread his hands. "Just . . . stop. Indulge in a moment of pure selfishness and take a night off. Doug has two other caretakers, and my own humble services. And Kitty might well appreciate a chance to take care of you for a change. Sleep, if you can, or read, or whatever it is you do to relax--but set your responsibilities, self-appointed and otherwise, aside for twenty-four hours. I can almost guarantee you'll feel like a new man."

"Just stop . . ." Jamie murmured. "Might be nice." He smiled. "Doctor's orders?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes. I prescribe a night's sleep." Samson winked. "Take two, and call me in the morning?"

"Heh. I'll try."

"Excellent. I'd like to set up another appointment, if you don't mind, once you've had a chance to rest--I'd like to hear more about what you've been doing for Doug, among other things. Is that all right?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll take a look at your schedule tomorrow?"

"There's no rush. I'm here on your schedule, you might say."

"Okay." Jamie stood, and offered his hand again; the doctor shook it gravely. "Thanks, Doc."

"You're quite welcome, Jamie. Sleep well."

---

After Jamie closed the door behind him, Leonard tapped a few of his more cryptic notes thoughtfully with the pen. Disposable . . . As soon as Moira was back from her mysterious errand in Liechtenstein, he was going to sit her down and find out absolutely everything about the hurricane incident; the summary in Jamie's file had sent his instincts twanging.

He sighed. It was no wonder Jamie and Doug were friends, really. Then his lips quirked, and he added one final note at the bottom of the page.

Find out if it's something in the water.

Comments

[x-snowflake.livejournal.com]

Eeee, poor Jamie. *loves*

[x-dazzler.livejournal.com]

Something in the water? Naw, couldn't be.

*cranks up sound louder, recharges, runs on that for a few days*

;)