xp_logs | Log: Haller and Maya

Maya goes to see Haller about her anger issues. It goes pretty well, considering.

Maya had an appointment with this Haller guy, or he'd asked her to come see him - whatever. She'd still not quite managed to knock on his office door though and right now the hesitation was driving her batty. She kicked one of the chairs resting along the hallway outside his office and then swore rather creatively when it turned out to be way more solid then the spindly looking legs appeared.

It was pretty much a metaphor for her current direction in life, really.

"Everything all right out here?"

Maya's swearing had distracted her from noticing the un-knocked door opening. A glance revealed a tall, dark-haired man looking at her from the doorway with mild concern.

Maya continued to hop on one foot, her continued swearing occupying her for a moment more before a glance up finally brought the open door and the man to her attention. She put her foot back on the floor and waved somewhat hesitantly before signing a hello, it was usually the quickest way to figure out if she needed to put her implants in or not.

Haller checked himself. Ah, right. She was deaf. Jim had worked enough with Artie to make the switch seamlessly.

"Hello, Maya," he signed back. "I understand you, but my own signing is limited. Do you read lips?"

"No - I'm a deaf person who was never taught a fundamental skill for getting along in the hearing world," Maya signed back - fishing her hearing aids out and attaching them to her head. "You sure you're qualified? I didn't think the terminally stupid were allowed to practice psychiatry."

"Psychology," he corrected mildly. "I don't prescribe drugs. We believe just medicating the unpleasantness out of people would be too easy." The counselor stood aside and gestured to his office. "Come on in."

Maya moved past him into his office and spent a few moments looking around as she waited for him to indicate where she should sit. It seemed your fairly standard set up - no real personal effects though, so either this wasn't his normal office or he was the most boring person she would ever meet.

"You have something against your family?" she asked after a moment.

Haller raised an eyebrow. "No. What makes you say that?" He motioned her to the couch as he assumed a seat of his own in an armchair, allowing the small table between the two to act as a metaphorical no-man's land.

"You don't have any pictures of them anywhere in here," Maya noted, taking a seat before pulling over one of the couch cushions to hug against her chest. "Don't people normally want to be disgustingly twee about family they get along with?"

"I like to keep my personal life personal. And I'm just not much of a decorator." He settled back and gave her a faint smile. "How about you? Photos of your family plastered all over your room?"

"No," Maya replied - giving him an unimpressed look. "Wasn't time to take any when I left."

"Right. Would you tell me a little about that? And before you ask, yes, there's a file, but what you have to say is more important than what someone else reported. You lived with your grandparents, didn't you?"

"Yeah, so?" Maya asked, uncertain what her living with her Grandparents had anything to do with. "And Dad needed to get them somewhere safe - I couldn't go with them. What's there to know?"

"Just curious. A lot of people who come here aren't on great terms with their family. It's part of the whole 'getting to know you' thing. Did you move around a lot?"

"Inquisition much?" Maya asked - glaring. "No - I didn't move around a lot. That's why I was with my Grandparents. Yes - I was happy there. No, I don't hate my Dad. No, I'm not angry because Mum died and I didn't get enough hugs to make me a valuable member of society."

Haller nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. So why does asking you about them make you act like I'm accusing you of shoplifting?"

Maya was more than tempted to stonewall, given such it took her a long time to answer - her hostile gaze never leaving his. If it hadn't been for the need to make a go of this, she might have simply walked out.

"Don't know who could be listening," she finally replied reluctantly - it wasn't that her family were particularly secretive, even given her father's profession but Maya felt like taking chances for anyone was too much. You didn't keep people alive by blabbing just anything to anyone. "And don't tell me I'm safe here - we both know that's not true."

The counselor nodded. "Never trust that anything is absolutely safe," he said bluntly. "There's no such thing. The mansion is safer than most places, but it's not impenetrable. Even so . . . what do you think could happen if you relaxed? The worst case scenario?"

"For me, or for my family?" Maya asked, hugging the cushion tighter to her chest. "Death, maybe but there's worse things then dying."

Haller studied her for a moment. "So you're saying you don't feel like you can relax because if you do you'll put yourself and your family at risk," he said. "We've established that the mansion isn't a perfect sanctuary, but would it also be fair to say you just feel generally unsafe? Maybe that's too strong a word . . . unsettled, maybe. Restless."

"Maybe, if you were a shrink fishing for scrabble words," Maya replied with a shrug. "The woods are safe - feel safe, the mansion is...weird. Too many people, and only a few who I'd like to trust. Lots more people assuming they've got rights to my trust without ever asking for, or earning it. Yeah, you could say I'm restless."

"And that's fair enough. We do expect you to live by the house rules, but trusting us is your choice." Haller leaned back in his chair and was silent for a moment. "However, I have a question. Do you ever feel like you're saying or doing something you know you shouldn't, but can't stop yourself? I don't mean things other people didn't like. I mean reactions that made you feel out of control."

"Uh...yeah, did Wade not tell you about the whole 'attacking him with a knife' thing when we first met?"

"He did, but that's not what I mean. When you're fighting with someone, have you ever felt like you were in a loop you couldn't get out of? Like you're almost always in a crappy mood and you don't know why?"

"Maybe?" Maya replied, sounding uncertain. "I don't know - people here just kinda hit my buttons, I guess. Not all the time but sometimes. Wade probably thinks my Dad did a real job on him, foisting me off like that."

"I think Wade is more worried than anything. And yeah, your behavior is one of the reasons. But I'm asking because it's not unusual for stressful events like moving away from everything you've ever known to mess you up more than you realize. When you add in a near-death experience and almost losing your father in front of your eyes, that's a hell of a lot of upheaval. It can turn into something ugly. Feeling restless and tense, being irritated by little things that normally wouldn't bother you, that kind of thing. Lashing out. It's a shitty way to feel." The counselor raised his eyebrows and added, dryly, "Unless you've always reacted to complete strangers asking if you're all right with speech over sign by questioning their qualifications and calling them terminally stupid, in which case I could be wrong and you're just rude."

Maya winced with embarrassment - her grandmother had taught her better manners, it was true.

"I'm not like this normally, no," She admitted finally with a sigh. "Not entirely, anyhow."

Haller nodded. "I figured, if for no other reason than you don't seem like the type who'd normally agree to something like this. What made you decide to give it a shot?"

"I don't..." Maya paused as she answered, giving it more thought. Why had she decided to hear him out? It wasn't just to get on Wade's good side, although that would help in the long run. Maybe it was because of what that guy Garrison had said, or the fact that the other kids here were cool, especially Bas. "I don't want to keep hurting people."

The admission elicited a faint smile. "I don't think anyone could think less of you for a goal like that. And I'm glad you recognize it's a problem. A lot of people don't -- or more often, refuse to admit it."

"Why?" Maya asked.

She wasn't naive, she knew people had all sorts of reasons to lie to themselves about pretty much everything but lying about hurting people, that seemed like a pretty stupid way of going about things. Didn't it just cause more problems in the long run? Not to mention the mental gymnastics that sort of behavior amounted to.

"I mean, I know why someone might not see it's a problem but if they do see it, why not just admit to being an asshole and that they don't care? Seems like you'd at least do away with all the weeping and bullshit from people who couldn't handle the whole 'asshole' thing."

The counselor shrugged. "Because people like to cast themselves as the hero of their own stories," he replied. "It's easier to blame others for being weak or stupid or oversensitive than admit you're in the wrong. For a certain kind of mind, the ability to upset someone means that person deserves to be treated badly because a strong person would either not care or stand up for themselves and end it. Admitting wrongdoing means taking accountability, and accountability means making an effort to change something about yourself. A lot of people aren't strong enough to face that kind of work."

"Does that actually work? I mean - someone tried to tell me stuff like the car accident was my fault I'd probably punch them," Maya replied, relaxing slightly, seemingly unaware of the change in her posture. "And ah, how do they explain things like crime?"

"Pretty easily, actually," Haller replied, subtly mirroring her more relaxed posture. "Anyone who commits a crime against them was greedy, jealous, or morally weak because of their race or social status. Meanwhile, any crimes they commit are because the person they beat had it coming, or they really needed that thing they stole, or they deserved the money they embezzled because they were smart enough to game the system. It's a worldview that lets them do whatever they want, however they want. That's why the ability to see your actions for what they are is so important. Thinking you're special lets you justify doing all kinds of things."

"And does anyone like that ever change?" Maya asked, a curious tilt to her head. She couldn't entirely see how any of this was relevant to her problems but it was interesting at the very least. "Do they 'get better'?"

"Not without help." The counselor waved a dismissive hand. "I don't mean therapy or anything -- in fact I'd guess those cases are pretty low -- but there are other ways. Worst case is that everything they've done catches up with them and they end up losing everything. The consequences of their actions become unavoidable, and even then some people never admit it. Best case scenario, though, is that they see the effect their actions have on people they care about, or someone they know and trust sits them down and gives them a serious talk. That one's harder because you have to make a choice. It's not enough to just listen to people. You have to want to change, too."

"Sure we can't just shoot them in the head and get on with people who aren't self-involved assholes?"

She watched Haller carefully, while trying to seem like she wasn't. She was admittedly pretty bad at it, but would have gotten an A for effort if she'd been attending class. Unfortunately classes called 'see what it takes to discomfort the adult professional' were few and far between.

The counselor didn't bat an eye. "Sometimes I consider it," he replied. "Then I remember I was one of those assholes who didn't get it until his actions caught up with him. I figure I should be generous.

"Really?"

Maya was actually surprised and sounded it, she couldn't picture the man in front of her as someone that self-involved.

The thin man shrugged. "A long time ago. After I lost my father I was angry at everything. There were other things going on in my life, obviously, but it was easier to take things out on other people than to get my own head sorted out. After everything my mother and I had been through I felt like the world owed me. I did more than a few things I'm not proud of. Eventually I graduated to armed robbery, and that's when it went bad. My powers manifested, people died, and I spent the next few years of my life hospitalized. From that point on I was forced to face the fact there was no one to blame but myself."

Haller watched Maya as he spoke, gauging her reaction. He felt almost nothing at the retelling. Jemail's pain and David's guilt felt like a lifetime ago. In many ways he supposed they were.

"So what makes someone like that qualified to help me?" Maya asked, eyebrows raised.

It wasn't that she didn't believe people could change, she certainly wanted to find a way past where she was right now. It was just hard to equate 'self-involved killer' with the person currently in front of her.

"Well, aside from the fact I'm trained for it, would you rather be talking to someone whose experience is entirely academic?" The counselor jerked a thumb back towards his desk. "Which, if you'd prefer it, I can provide. I do have a rolodex with a couple of those in there. You didn't get forced into this, you chose to come here. That's huge. It's your choice whether you want to continue with me, or go to someone who you think can help you better."

"Well, I could go with someone else but...Do you think they'd be half as honest as you are right now?" Maya asked, still curious, but also confident - she'd made her decision, or at least she felt she had. If the man in front of her could help, then she was of a mind to let him. "Because as far as I see it, that's pretty damn important to me right now."

The man gave her a crooked smile. "Some of them. But I have the convenience factor of being local."

"Then I guess we're stuck with each other. How exactly is this going to work, anyway?" Maya asked - now that she'd gotten the initial stuff out of the way, she wanted to get to the basics, like how often she was meant to meet him, and if she'd still be able to make cheerleading practice. "You're not going to make me do any weird white-people new age shit, right?"

"I was going to say 'not unless you want me to,'" Haller remarked dryly, "but I take it back. Even I'm not that white. As for what we're going to do, some of it'll just be talk, but we'll try various other things to see what works for you. Sorting out what works and what just makes you roll your eyes, that sort of thing."

"That I can work with," Maya replied, a tentative smile peaking out finally. "So, when do I see you next?"