The hidden wounds of war | Closed

@ A Drop On the Window
Jessica nodded, grabbing the gun from the bagging and opening the door. She heaved a sigh of relief. “I am going to open the door now,” she said. She opened the door, slowly. She held the gun gingerly and opened the door. The security guards were standing, braced for impact of whatever was going on behind the door. She offered a small smile. “Hey fellas. I’m going to give this to you,” she said, handing the gun over. “Please lock in this in locker for room 107.” One security guard took the gun and nodded, walking away.

“Is everything okay?” The other guard, George asked.

“Yes, George. Everything is fine. We’re just talking and Bluebird wanted something a little more private and safe. So, we’re going to go ahead and move Bluebird into this private room, permanently. Tell Karen that 104A is open and that room 107 is now closed. Also, please call Evelyn,” she paused. She hadn’t mentioned Evelyn to Bluebird yet and she knew she had to address it, otherwise she would sound like she had lied to him. Evelyn was her supervisor and had direct contact with their psychiatrist. Jessica wasn’t sure if Bluebird was hallucinating or delusional and may need to be medicated, so she had to call in back up.

She turned back to Bluebird. “I just said a name you don’t know. Evelyn is my supervisor, like my commander. I’m going to let you stay in this room, but I have to talk to her first. She’s safe and I trust her,” she said calmly before turning back to the security guard. “That’s all,” she said, in her most chipper voice. George nodded, though he looked skeptical.

She turned back to Bluebird. “See, they’re gone. If it’s okay with you, I am going to leave the door cracked. Otherwise, they’re going to come back because they’re going to get nervous. They want me to be safe and I want both of us to be safe. Is that okay?"

Bluebird was still crouched down taking cover. He stared up at Jessica watching her closely, the new name had worried him massively, and her explanation that Evelyn was like a commander made it worse. He was used to referring to his superiors by their rank, and the US Army didn't have commanders.

He recoiled from her slightly, "I need to go outside," he stated, it was becoming clear that he wanted to stay but he was struggling with something. He needed to know that he had made it back, needed to reassure himself, if he couldn't do that he wouldn't be able to trust her.

He stood up and walked towards her slowly, expecting that she'd lead him outside. As he moved closer the scar tissue on his arms was much clearer, it looked like he'd been lacerated several times as well as burned by something. All the wounds were healed, and quite old.

@ oldbook;

@ A Drop On the Window
Jessica let her eyes wander to both assess herself, her own safety, and to assess Bluebird. She felt safe which was a fact that a surprised her. She should feel unsafe and cornered, but she didn’t. She did know that, at the end of the day, she would protect herself over the client. As Bluebird stepped closer, she saw his scars and the damage done to his skin yet again. It was clear that he suffered some sort of trauma, related to his time in combat. She wondered what branch of the military he was in and what he could remember. She wondered where the term Bluebird even came from. She had lots of questions spinning her head like clothes in a laundry machine. She knew some would be answered if she could just start the assessment.

She resisted her urge to sigh. Sometimes the pressure of paperwork was overwhelming and she tried not to let it get to her. She knew that she needed to establish more rapport with this client. “Okay,” she said, calmly. “We can go outside. You should understand that the police are outside of this door, so on our way outside they’ll see us and they might talk to us. That’s just to make sure that we’re both safe. I can show you the way if you think you’re ready.” She waited for him to confirm and then opened the door. She stepped outside, Bluebird following silently behind her. She walked past the police officers, calmly with a soft smile on her face. She nodded, giving a notice that she was okay. Jessica searched, but Evelyn had not arrived yet. She led Bluebird past Karen and out the front doors.

She herself took a deep breath of fresh air and turned to him. “Here we are. Outside. Going outside was really important to you."

Bluebird followed quietly behind her, watching the officers closely, and checking their uniforms to see if they were American, which they were. Once outside he took a breath and looked around, he noticed storefronts of American chains, and a few US flags. The scene put him more at ease. He walked over to a bench and sat down, there were other people walking by heading to work or shopping by now, and he did notice some sideways glances and stares focused on his scars.

He turned to her, "So I really did make it home? this is really America and not some sick joke," he stated in an inquisitive manner. He waited for her to take a seat next to him, "I wish I could help with your questions but I honestly can't remember that much, is the reason you need background information to check that I'm not a risk, that I don't have anything contagious that sort of thing?" he asked quietly. He had decided that if it'd help he would let her test his blood, maybe it could help.

@ oldbook;

@ A Drop On the Window
Jessica watched him curiously, not really understanding the point of it all. Yet, she knew that everything had a purpose and so this must have one too. It would be naive to assume he was so desperate for no reason. She sat down on a bench just outside of the center as Bluebird took in the scene in front of him. She glanced up when he asked if they were really in America. She was surprised. He was able to understand, but either had amnesia from PTSD or from brain trauma. She wasn’t sure and she cocked her head to the side as he continued talking. She felt a pang of sadness for him and what he went through.

“No, it isn’t a medical check-up at all. I’m not a doctor. I’m a social worker. I can’t do anything medical. It’s more to assess for any sort of mental illness or post traumatic stress and to assess what you need overall. For example, we do have a doctor on site here. I think it’d be smart to get a full medical work up for you. You’re clearly suffering from amnesia. It’s important to rule out any medical concerns related to that and other injuries. Plus, we might be able to connect with the VA and see if they can help us to identify your full name.”

She wanted to dance around the subject to spare him more distress, but he seemed calm enough to mention the last fact. Bluebird could not be his real name and with all his amnesia, she wasn’t sure he’d actually remember it. It was clear they had a lot of work to do and she would need to apply for an elongated stay. “Of course, that means you’d have to be willing to stay here. If not, I’d just connect you to the local VA and free up the bed for someone else.” She hoped he would stay. His case seemed challenging which was scary and exciting. She wanted to learn more and to help him. With all this scars, he clearly suffered more than she could ever truly know.

Bluebird nodded only partially understanding. He smiled softly at her, he was fairly certain he was okay physically now, bar some aches and pains. He looked out at the city relaxing slightly more, he sighed softy. "I was concerned this might have been a trick to get me to talk," he explained softly. "They were very creative when they tried to get me to talk," he added.

There was a hint of anger and uncomfort in his face when he talked about what he went through. He went to stand up, "I'm fine physically, but if you want to take some blood, to try figure out who I am, you can," he said. He trusted her enough at this point, but was still a long distance from trusting anyone else. He stood up then offered her his hand.

"I'd be willing to stay," he said lightly walking back inside, 'on one condition," he added. He turned looking at her, "I only have to talk and deal with you," he stipulated. He knew that's probably not how these places worked, but it was what he wanted.

@ A Drop On the Window
Jessica felt sadness overwhelm her. At first, what she thought was him being difficult, she now realized was him making sure she was safe. She felt guilty. She should have known better, but this wasn’t exactly how she planned to start her morning. Then again, her career never did allow for too much planning. She had so many questions, most of which she knew would have to occur during individual counseling. She didn’t take his hand, though she knew he was being polite. It just wasn’t the kind of interaction she had with clients. Instead, she stood on her own and smiled, falling into step with him. She would have to remember all he said: they were creative when they tried to get me to talk. It was an impactful sentence and one that she knew would haunt their work together.

“Well,” she paused, just outside the door. “That’s not how it works. I’m a therapist, so I don’t really do the other half. I’m not a doctor, so I can’t take your blood. The best I can do is meet with you twice a week or so. There’s another person who will handle your needs and then, the doctor. Trust me, you don’t want me to go near you with a needle,” she said, laughing a little. “You can, of course, ask me questions and I can go to sessions and meetings with you, but I can’t be the sole provider. It just isn’t how it works here. There are lots of other people here who need care too. I’ve already bent the rules by changing your room to an individual one.”

It was obvious Bluebird had anticipated such a response already, he stood processing for a second. He was clearly distrustful of strangers, and remained hyper alert. His mind as broken as it was, at this time was lucid, and well reasoning. He understood that she wasn't a doctor and it was slightly inappropriate. However how he'd react in a less lucid state, would be unpredictable. He turned continuing to walk inside, scratching at his scars on his arms slightly.

"Jessica, thank you for bending the rules, but would you at least go with me to the doctor, at least at first?" He proposed lightly. He hoped she would because he wasn't sure how he'd react if she wasn't there to keep him calm, and lucid. Vague images shot through his mind of him biting the throat of someone who tried touching him while he was tied to a chair, but he couldn't place when or where it happened. Bluebird tried pushing the thought out of his mind.

They made it back inside, through the front doors. "If you can't do that, it's probably best if I just go find somewhere else to stay," he added. He didn't want to hurt anyone, or put anyone in danger, so he knew it would be safer if he stayed somewhere else.

@ oldbook;