The Therapist and The Enigma

It was dark and the rain was pouring, Holepunch has been walking for days at this point. He hobbled along slowly, driven solely by instinct, training. He'd been taught how to ignore pain, and discomfort. He crossed the border into America with relative ease, he was a ghost, unseen, unheard. His mind was broken but his instincts remained. He couldn't remember how long it had been, his name, his home, anything; he just knew he had to keep moving.

Two days later, Holepunch was wandering the streets, eating food out of the garbage and talking to himself. He was noticed by a patrolman, who questioned him, to no avail, having determined there was mental health issues involved with the situation, Holepunch was taken to the hospital were he received treatment for his ripped up feet and cuts on his arms, a nurse noticed a tattoo, it looked military but had no identifying markings on it, no mention of rank, unit, which armed force, nothing to help identify the man, but with that information and holepunch's ramblings using military terminology it was decided it would be best to transfer him to a facility specializing in treating military personal. Holepunch struggled with recollecting how he had gotten here, what had occurred over the last few months, his memory was jumbled, and he instincts told him he wasn't safe, so his guard remained high.

In the first few days after Holepunch's arrival, the caretaker assigned to his case, Dr. Ingrid Hurst, kept her distance, wanting to observe his actions and how he interacted with the other nurses and patients. Having a baseline for his behavior before sitting down with him to talk would hopefully help her to figure out his identity, and help him recover his mental health.

After approximately a week of observing and taking notes, Ingrid approached him one day while he was sitting in one of the facility's recreational rooms, complete with a closet of board games and movies, a TV, and some nice tables and chairs for patients to lounge in. Ingrid approached him after talking with one of the nurses on duty, smiling kindly. "Good morning Holepunch, is it alright if we sit and talk?" She asked, gesturing to one of the empty tables. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled into a neat bun, a few strands falling into her hazel eyes as she adjusted the smalls stack of books and journals that she was carrying.

It was very clean in the facility, and it was making Holepunch uncomfortable. He had been spending most of his time outside, staying clear of the other patients and nurses, unless he had to interact with them. He had not slept in the bed inside his room at all, preferring sleeping on the floor.

After the doctor approached and sat down, Holepunch moved his gaze from outside to her. He nodded lightly giving her permission to sit. He had noticed that she'd been watching him, and talking with the other nurses after they interacted with him, so he had become concerned about her motives, if he let her close he might be able to figure them out. He had been presenting small signs of paranoia, but the fact she'd been watching wasn't just in his head this time.

@ Another.Chance

She smiled kindly as she sat, setting the few books and journals she was carrying down. She had noted his signs of paranoia, and had concluded that it would be best to be upfront about as much as she could with him. "I'm the doctor assigned to help you, Dr. Ingrid Hurst. It's my job to help you get your memory back, and make you well again." She had been keeping note of his behaviors and habits in one of her journals, as she did with her other patients. She slid his journal out from the stack of books, opening so he could see what was inside.

"Is it alright if I call you Holepunch? Or is there something else you would prefer to be called? You can call me Ingrid, if you prefer." She smiled. "I apologize if I scared you at all this past week, only watching but never speaking to you. Sometimes, I think it's better to watch a person's behavior a little before I speak to them, that way we have something to talk about." She gestured a bit to her journal, where she already had a few pages of notes and questions on him.

@ A Drop On the Window

@ Another.Chance
He watched her and looked at the book as she turned it. "Holepunch works," he said replied. He looked out the window again, still listening, but unsure about what she meant by having to make him well. He shifted in his seat, 'what do you want to know?" he asked.

Holepunch ran through part of his training in his head. He remembered lying in the mud searching for food, a heavy pack on his back. He found it easy to remember his training and that sort of thing; he just couldn't remember his name, anything like that, his last mission, the last six months. He turned to look at her again noticing her hazel eyes, and sweet smile.

@A Drop On the Window
Ingrid flipped through the pages of her notes, trying to decide where to begin. She had so many questions, but figuring out which to ask first was always the hardest. "Hm.. I know that you can't remember the past six months or so.. But can you remember anything before that?" She looked up at him again, grabbing a pen to write down whatever he said.

"When you were at the hospital before coming here, one of the nurses thought that you were a member of the military because of a tattoo.. Do you remember what branch you served in?" She questioned, watching him. Her father had been in the military, but had returned from his tour of duty with severe PTSD, and after a few months of hell her mother had taken her and left, and not long after that her father had killed himself. It had been what had inspired her to become a therapist; she couldn't help her father, but she could help people like him.

@ Another.Chance
Holepunch nodded softly, "I can remember bits of my training, that sort of thing, I might be due to how important it is." He shifted in his seat again at her next question, he wasn't sure what branch he served in. He had served in a unit that the government would never admit existed, everything was off the record, clandestine.

A flash back began slowly and he flinched suddenly, curling up in his seat. His eyes began darting around the room, and his ears noticing every sound. He yelled loudly, a blood curdling scream of agony. It felt like his flesh was burning.

@ A Drop On the Window
Ingrid nodded, scribbling a few notes in her journal. She frowned a little when she noticed him panicking, jumping when he screamed. "Holepunch," She spoke softly, moving out of her chair to crouch next to him, slowly reaching out to place her hand lightly over his.

"Holepunch, you're alright. You're safe here. I won't let anything happen to you." She murmured, glancing over at a few of the nurses who had walked over, shaking her head a bit when they asked for some help.

@ Another.Chance
Holepunch kept panicking, searching the room. He looked down at her and calmed down slightly. "Where am I?" he queried. He relaxed after the other nurses stepped back again. He watched her lightly, looking over her features.

"Ingrid how did I get here?" he asked. He couldn't remember how long he'd been gone, how long he had been missing. He lifted his sleeve looking at his tattoo, looking it over.

@ A Drop On the Window
Ingrid squeezed his hand reassuringly, eyes kind and gentle. "You are at a military hospital that specializes in the mentally ill.. You were found wandering the streets a few weeks ago, and no one knows who you are." She watched him, making sure he wasn't going to scream or freak out again.

"I know whatever happened to you was horrible, and that trying to get you to remember who you are will dredge up a lot of unpleasant memories. But you're safe here, and I won't let you get hurt." She murmured, smiling ever so faintly.

@ Another.Chance
Holepunch nodded lightly keeping hold of her hand, "how long was I on the street for?" he replied. He tried to think back, about his mission, whether he succeeded or not, but nothing came to him. He sat back into his seat, "what's wrong with me, doc?" he asked quietly.

@ A Drop On the Window
"We're not sure how long you were on the streets. Most likely less than a week, but more than a few days." She murmured, slowly moving to sitting back in her seat. "And we know own that you probably have PTSD, paranoia, and anxiety. And whatever traumatic thing happened to you has caused you to suppress your memories."

@ Another.Chance
Holepunch nodded lightly, 'I remember a lot of pain, then its all blank," he said softly. He could see how he was presenting that sort of behavior, but wasn't sure how much of it was his mental health, and how much of it was just his training. He picked at the hem of his shirt, "can we go outside please?" he asked

@ A Drop On the Window
Ingrid nodded slightly, standing slowly as she gathered up her things. "Of course. Is there any particular spot you want to go to?" She asked, looking at him. She asked one of the nurses to bring her books and journals back to her office, pulling on her sweater.

Holepunch stood up and looked out the window, "over by the tree looks good," he noted. He could tell that a spot by the tree gave the best spot to watch all other areas of the yard, and was closest to a number of escape routes. He pulled on his coat slowly, moving much slower than he used too due to pain and scars across his back.

@ Another.Chance

Ingrid nodded, noting his slow movement with a small frown. She waited until he was ready before leading him.outside and over to the tree, looking up into the branches and around the yard. "It's chilly out... Can you remember anything about your childhood? Where you grew up, what your family was like, that sort of thing."

@ A Drop On the Window

Holepunch sat down carefully and looked around. "Not really, I may have phased it out completely awhile ago," he replied. He sat comfortably with his legs crossed, his eyes watching her closely, her dimples even more pronounced under the natural lighting out here.

@ Another.Chance

@ A Drop On the Window

"Do you remember anything about your training? Anyone you became friends with, what you had to do?" She asked as she sat down across from him slowly, picking at the grass as she looked around the yard. She smiled a bit when she spotted another one of her patients, waving politely when he waved at her before turning her attention back to Holepunch. "Can you remember anything peaceful?"

@ Another.Chance

Holepunch shook his head lightly, "I don't remember, I can see faces and things, but can't remember names," he answered. He ran his hands over the grass looking around the garden. His wind darting from this moment back to other ones, he was finding it hard to concentrate on just one thing. His eyes glazed over as his mind took him into a dark room, with foreign voices