Therapy // self para
This was officially the stupidest thing she has ever been made to do. First of all, who thought it the logical idea forcing a young woman who has already suffered enough relive her trauma for someone she didn't really know well? The law abides by a psychological evaluation when a relationship drowning in domestic abuse ends with a dead body. Pandora fought against this and she fought hard, but in the end, missing the session could be misconstrued as lacking remorse. Maintain the victim act, which she still was without a doubt, just not the premediated murder way no one is supposed to know about.
Pan picked at the skin of her thumb anxiously, eyes following the blonde therapist from her spot on the couch as Madyson rummaged through her desk for a notebook. Most evaluations are done in a private room at the police station, but it was the other woman's opinion that conducting a session within a less rigid environment in another female's presence might alleviate the stress. Pandora could say she didn't know Doctor Beckett very well, really. The photographs on her desk indicated she had a daughter, the frames on the wall displaying Mady's degrees gave a clear picture there were brains in her head, and the way she carried herself screamed professionalism. The one thing that stuck out to Panny, however, was the fact they both came from Newford. Looking at this woman reminded her of home. And that wasn't a good thing.
"Sorry about that. Either I write really big or I fill up these notebooks too quickly." Madyson sheepishly muttered, wrapping the cover of the notebook around and opening on a brand new page as she took a seat in a chair across from Pandora. Leaning forward and pressing the play button on the tape recorder, she cleared her throat and began the usual introduction. "Case file 3A. Patient name Pandora Grace Harlow, participating in a law-mandated psych eval. Time of session is 3:05 PM." Mady sat back against the cushions and offered the girl a warm smile. "How are you today, Pandora?"
"That's a loaded fucking question." Pan spit the retort before any sign of a filter kicked in. She knew how that statement would sound over a recording, almost imagining whoever worked on her case will think the sarcasm wasn't a great look, but it was also the truth. Let me count in all the ways I feel completely shitty. "I'm fine." That's all she could muster and altogether it summed up Panny's true feelings in the moment. She wasn't particularly happy sitting on a couch and given no choice speaking with a shrink, but something in her body language already displayed that.
Pandora watched the look in the doctor's gaze, almost witnessing the other woman make the decision to switch gears and change tactics. Madyson nodded once and began twirling her pen between her fingers before trying again, "I hear you've been living under the care of Detective Monaghan." Mady's stomach twisted at the mention of Derek, even speaking his first name making her feel the awkwardness. "How has that been going for you so far?"
"Are you sure this session really isn't your excuse to talk about Derek?" Pandora knew a small fraction of Derek's past relationship with the doctor. While she couldn't notice much difference from the man's grumpiness within the time they were dating, there were moments where Pan swore she saw him smile. "I know you two had some kind of thing before that went to shit." From secondhand sources, no less. Derek made little mention of the therapist and she personally understood why from the detective's perspective. Doing a job is one thing, but if that job involved taking on Sebastian Ainsworth as your client, you have recipe for disaster. A conflict of interest and a target placed on the back of anyone you cared for if shit traveled south.
Madyson breathed a soft sigh and nodded in confirmation. "Yes, we did, but this isn't about me and Derek. This is about you." The way her relationship with Derek ended or was at a brief standstill, she wasn't even certain what they were now, but describing that it went to shit is placing it on far lighter terms than what actually happened. She fucked up, plain and simple. "Knowing past events, I'm sure it's comforting staying with someone else during the investigation. Everyone needs support."
Panny adjusted the position on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her and raising a hand to her throat as an absentminded habit before realizing the black cross she usually wore wasn't there any longer. It was in Peter's possession if she remembered correctly or maybe he didn't keep the damn thing, the symbolism of it meant nothing to her anyway. "It's been fine. I have my own room." She dropped her hand and raised a single shoulder shrug, "We do dinners pretty much every night, mostly take-out on the days Derek works. He's a better hair stylist than he is a cook." Pandora indicated her cropped blonde locks courtesy of Derek's assistance after he found her struggling in the bathroom with a pair of scissors. "And Katie, god, she's a ball of energy even I'm having trouble keeping up with." The little girl's presence is therapy in of itself. "Then there's the moments before I go to bed where I remember why I'm staying in that house. Past all the good, I still have the ugly."
The sound of pen scribbling on paper filled the silence as Doctor Beckett took notes. In her opinion, Pan taking residence at Derek's home was the best thing for her mental health. She could only imagine returning to a broken home or god forbid, what was left of the crime scene Pandora called an apartment. Mady held a basic summary of the girl's past petty misdemeanors tucked inside a file in her top desk drawer, had heard by word-of-mouth her family situation wasn't the greatest. She didn't have anyone trustworthy in her corner. "Even a small ray of sunshine goes a long way." Madyson mentioned, eyes casting down on the words written thus far. "Pandora, you described your situation as ugly. Normally, I am a firm believer in allowing the patient move at their own pace and I'll still absolutely honor that as much as I can. However," The woman's pause of hesitation caused a white-hot chill through Pandora's veins. Of course she knew this was coming, but delaying the inevitable didn't last long. "Due to an ongoing homicide case, it's a responsibility of mine to breach the uncomfortable for those working on fitting the pieces together. We need to talk about that night with Jason."
Pandora shifted anxiously against the cushions, the squeaking coils only furthering the jitteriness bouncing from all directions within her body. This was it, what she said at this moment could affect a great outcome of the verdict if a trial really were to happen. It could destroy the lies and cover story she and Derek built by the finest detail or unravel the secret just as severe as the second shot they were attempting to conceal. One secret and one assassin.
No, Pandora wouldn't crumble, she'd latch a grip on herself and lie through her fucking teeth with a small hint of half-truths to make this convincing. "There were many unpleasant nights with Jason that would shock you, Doc. A lot with him on top of me ignoring what I wanted." Pan offered the blunt answer before glancing away. "He was very possessive. Other guys would stare and he wouldn't hesitate beating the shit out of them. The times I ogled and he'd turn the fists on me. So, um," She shook her head slowly, "Jason was angry I'd ended the relationship and he hated even more that I was spending time with a guy that wasn't him. It's one of those 'if I can't have you, no one can' scenarios." Classic Jason, territorial and psychopathic until the very bitter end. "You want to know if I feel guilty, right? I'm sure that's the whole point of this." Pan gestured between the other woman and herself with a hand. "I don't have remorse doing what I thought I needed to protect myself and save my life. I regret the fact I had to kill someone to do it," No. No, she didn't regret it for a second. Let the asshole burn like his friends, slowly and painfully. "but the real truth is, his blood isn't just on my hands."
Madyson kept her silence out of respect as she always did during sessions with a patient. Some required the coaxing for information, others offered it openly, nevertheless the extent of her career consisted of the ability to sit still and become another's listening ear when they felt as if no other person in their lives were around. She could be that for someone. God, this poor girl, though. Pandora isn't the first sexual assault victim to come through her doors, but she was the first to kill her abuser that has landed in her stack of patient files. "We weren't here to prove your innocence, Pandora, you aren't on trial. I'm sorry you felt like you had no choice in what happened." Madyson's sincerity shone through whether Pan believed it or otherwise. "You had said his blood isn't just on your hands. Can you tell me what you mean by that? From where we're sitting, I'm sensing some anger."
"Of course I'm angry. Why wouldn't I be angry?" Pandora untucked her legs and placed her palms on either side of her, leaning forward slightly, "You and I both know what happens to young girls like us in Newford when we step on the wrong side of the tracks. The only way you avoid being marked someone's fuck toy pet depends on the decent influences in your life. Your parents, your siblings, your family, you don't have anyone dependable and you're fucked. Take Jason, for instance," Pan realized a long tangent helped no one, but nothing erased her impulsive temper when it boiled over. She wanted whoever listened to those tapes to feel her wrath and distrust, maybe even take her side. "Do you think the times we hung around at a bar and he spent the whole night berating me, calling me his little whore, that anyone bothered asking if everything was fine? Or any other time out in public when he slapped me on more than one occasion, you think someone came to my rescue? Our friends knew what was happening clear as day, my own mother saw the bruises and she did nor said nothing. Fucking Eleanor Cabello cared more about me than anybody else in our faction." She released a huff of air and screwed her jaw tight, "The cops knew of Jason's reputation and they all looked the other way. Doing nothing caused his death in some form or another."
This was the hardest aspect of her career, listening to the stories and refraining from agreeing with the words. Madyson knew the harsh reality of their faction, of this city and the world, that women in toxic relationships were sometimes brushed aside by complete strangers when their own lives held more importance. Did she share her frustration with Pandora that it was in her right laying blame on others for her circumstances? Maybe. No one clearly lifted a finger to stop it, Derek certainly intervened as was his civic duty, but only after Pan took drastic action. The only pointing of blame will and always should be directed at Jason himself. The abuser. "I know it might seem like our faction's an unforgiving place. One minute, it's a robbery and the next, bodies are being carried out of a torched warehouse. I won't sugarcoat the truth for a girl who sees her world with a certain lens." A little cynical lens, but providing that description wouldn't land well. "Do you think law enforcement's early involvement could have changed the outcome when it came to your ex?"
Pandora's nails dug into the flesh of her palms when the doctor mentioned the recent breaking news. From public perception, someone presumably from Davenport set a warehouse with seven people ablaze due to thievery. Fuck, if Madyson only knew who sent the devil to do her dirty work. "And then what? He would spend a few nights in jail just to be released on bail and try murdering me again? No matter how you spin the story, Doctor Beckett, the ending never changes. He would've attacked and I would've defended myself in any capacity to stop him. At the end of the day, the only person who was saving me was me." The sentiment sounded cheesy coming from her mouth. Stereotypical, yet, true. "I've been failed so many times. I waited for someone to spare a scrap of any kindness whatsoever they could give me and you get used to the disappointment after a while. Any hope's gone, your faith in humanity's obliterated, you lose your trust in the people closest to you. I mean, I lost seeing good in anyone, but that's just my bitterness."
Madyson hummed with a curt head nod and jotted down a few observations. Distrustful at an early age, extremely independent, quick at jumping the defensive, small hint of paranoia evident, angry. The last word was underlined carefully, emphasizing the younger woman's temperament, but Mady would make it perfectly clear Pandora's past justifies the bleak outlook. "When someone tells me they've lost their trust in anyone, I like to remind them that there's as many good people in this world than there are bad. All you have to do is look hard enough." She watched as Pandora rolled her eyes. Okay, so, the phrase was a little mushy and glass half full optimistic, she will admit that. "I know closing everyone off is a coping mechanism, but as a therapist, I want to encourage healthier routes."
"Not to rush to my own defense, but I will have you know that I've been trying healthier routes. And it seems to take a load off my back faster than this yoga zen getting-in-touch-with-my-feelings bullshit you're peddling." Maybe the jab wasn't nice or fair for someone who was only meaning to help her. "Sorry. I'm not good at this, okay?" The tough act isn't easy breaking and besides...Pan still even now didn't want anyone seeing her as a pussy. "I wrote myself a letter." She glanced down coyly, feeling almost embarrassed admitting to it. "I just...I had these thoughts fucking jackhammering in my head." Pandora's eyes landed on the doctor who nudged her head to continue, "It was this recap of all the ways in where my life went wrong. You know, it was my upbringing, the resentment with my sister, it was my boyfriend, it was Jason. I mean, it just came down to my choices and who I am as a person." The stupid letter, her true confession no one should see. "Church teaches people you burn in Hell if you commit murder. I put myself in a position where that basically pins a scarlet letter on my chest and marks me a bad person. And maybe that's what I deserve when I don't feel like there isn't anything good in me anymore. I always ruin it."
"Pan, why do you think you're not a good person?" Madyson would fervently argue on the contrary. Religion was quite the curious subject for the woman to digest, but even she knew defending oneself against an outside threat shouldn't earn a one way ticket to Hell.
Pandora said nothing for a long pause, allowing the flashes of different memories slowly collect inside a small box she locked away inside her mind. "I've done things, bad things I'm not proud of. I've defaced public places, I've stolen, I shattered windows, set shit on fire, I destroy and I destroy. Because that is all I know how to do." It was a revelation she came across a long time ago. Pan rose from her seat and began a small pace back and forth between the couch and the coffee table separating the two women. "Yeah, I never bow down and push forward when my only way out is through, but that doesn't automatically mean the happiness switch in my head is fucking flipped on. Those cops who are worried about closing the case aren't going to bother concerning themselves over the mental damage he caused." She wouldn't cry over this bullshit, she refused, but she couldn't ignore the harsh sting behind her eyes. "I made a choice and I don't regret it. But I have to live with the nightmares seeing his face. I have to force myself to remember that I won't see him hiding around every corner waiting to wrap his hands around my throat."
"Pandora," Madyson placed her notebook aside and pushed herself to her feet, moving around the coffee table and stopping at a safe distance Pandora was comfortable with. She mentally noted the girl's knee-jerk hesitation, choosing caution in her steps. "Carrying trauma from a man who lacked any regard for women doesn't make you a bad person. Do you think Derek would've taken a chance on you if he thought you owned a bad bone in your body? St. Cascadia proves good and evil isn't as black or white as everyone makes it out to be." A complex philosophy men have surely argued over for centuries. She knew their city could swing one way more than the other. "You grew up in this life thinking no one would ever stop and listen no matter how loudly you were screaming. Well, let me tell you something, Ms. Harlow," Mady raised a small smile, genuine reassurance. "We're listening. And if you didn't ensure that, I know Derek would. Don't think for a moment that he wouldn't go to the ends of the earth for you and back." Her kind gaze searched the other blonde patiently with a brief silence before she reached down toward the device on the table, switching the recording off. "I think it's time we ended this session. Don't you think?"
Pandora spent the moment throughout Madyson's spiel collecting herself, quickly wiping away the wetness that formed around her eyes while simultaneously listening to the words carefully. Yes, she knew something good could come from lowering the defensive nature that was learned at an early stage of her life. And if she knew Derek as well as she hoped, he wouldn't risk inviting her into the home he shared with his daughter if he knew Pandora's virtues were no longer intact. He didn't know about her deal with Judas and wouldn't ever know, but even that was simply serving the men far more unsavory than herself what they deserved. "I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired." The sentences were hushed, whispered more to herself than Madyson. She experienced the similar exhaustion from this session that writing the letter had offered. Pandora couldn't hurtle through her emotions anymore, she couldn't pour her sins for the world to see. Either she moved on or she drowned.
"I couldn't agree more." Pan grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch's cushions without hesitating, watching as Madyson stepped aside with an arm sweeping out towards the door in relenting fashion, and moved past her with a silent thank you that she seemed too dignified to let leave her lips. "Oh, and, um, Doc," The blonde nudged open the door and slowly turned around, breathing a light sigh. "Derek's doing really good, since you were wondering." She heard Mady release a soft laugh, no doubt willing to vehemently protest that this session wasn't about Derek's well-being. At least, she wouldn't completely admit it out loud. Pan continued her statement, "But if you ask me, I think he could be doing a lot better."
Pandora closed the door behind her, allowing the therapist to interpret the meaning behind those words and drive herself crazy. Honestly...that would make two of them.