Nate frowned, folding his arms. “Sky, you need to listen to me. Believe me when I say that people are not going to think you’re a monster. That’s not the world we live in. People look up to Heroes with all kinds of amazing, powerful abilities – just look at Paladin.” He smirked briefly to himself at the mention of his girlfriend’s alter ego. “You could call her a monster based on her destructive capabilities, but she uses her powers for good so she’s this country’s most famous and beloved Hero. You see?”

He offered her a soft, reassuring smile. “I know it feels difficult when you don’t feel in control, but with practice it will get more familiar, I promise.”

Listening to Sky’s thoughts on her telepathy, Nate could certainly understand why she was choosing to avoid all physical contact. It wasn’t out of an innate fear of touching people, but rather the mind-reading that came with it, and that was a perfectly reasonable and logical conclusion.

“It’s good that you have that off-switch. We should definitely work on helping you to adjust to hearing thoughts eventually though – accidents happen and you don’t want to be caught completely off-guard. Baby steps though. Like I said – eventually.”

He wasn’t about to let Sky close off that path so finally. Her ‘end of subject’ was a good try, but he could see that she was just trying to revert back to the denial and avoidance that she wallowed in for so long.

Suddenly Sky gripped the bed, her eyelids slamming shut. Not again. She’d said that she saw visions all the time – this one must be particularly vivid and consuming. Nate moved closer – not so close as to touch her, of course – and watched her cautiously, looking for signs that she was coming to.

“Sky? Was that another vision?”

The young man leapt straight to the point. Nate noted immediately, with great interest, that Brian was more than capable of making his needs known and understood. The list of drugs that followed his request spoke volumes of the man’s long history of psychiatric treatment, Nate listening intently as Brian continued to speak. He stopped abruptly, biting his lip in shame, before apologising hurriedly.

“No need to apologise Brian, it’s important that we get this sorted as quickly as possible. I wouldn’t leave a physically handicapped person without their mobility aid and your medication is no different. Have you taken anything recently? Haldol, I assume?”

Nate was reluctant to prescribe him Haldol considering the common side effects and the presence of more appropriate alternatives; he was currently trending towards trying some quetiapine – another MNRU patient who had since been discharged had presented similarly to Brian Harris, with a similar medical history, and she’d responded well to Seroquel. It would remain to be seen whether he could be parted from his apparently favoured Haldol, Nate supposed.

“Hey, you’re not gonna hurt someone. You’re in pretty much the safest place in San Francisco. And we will get this sorted as soon as possible, okay?”

Nate ducked his head down, trying to catch Brian’s gaze as he sat with head in hands. The bandage on Brian’s arm stood as a permanent reminder of the reason for Brian’s admission. He wondered if Brian was so focused on not hurting others that he failed to recognise himself as a victim, or whether it was simply that he felt he deserved it. In any case, not something to be bringing up right at this point when the poor man was feeling vulnerable and unmedicated.

“Is there anything else you need? Did you manage to get some breakfast this morning?”

Their latest addiction to the psychiatric ward had come straight from a self-injury incident that had been taken care of in the emergency department of a general hospital. They’d transferred him pretty much instantly once the nature of his metahuman abilities had been identified. There was quite an extensive record of Mr. Brian Harris on the system detailing a recent stay in a residential psychiatric ward with diagnoses of depression, anxiety and schizophrenia. It seemed that his abilities had actually manifested quite quickly after the Event – before the MNRU had been established. He’d violently broken out after a while and gone missing for some time… until his recent appearance in casualty.

Nate had frustratingly little time to go through all the records as thoroughly as he would have liked, but that seemed to always be the case in medicine. So much paper work, not enough time to actually do any of it. Still, this was just an initial meeting that he’d been asked to do so that they could gather a better picture of Brian’s needs and preferences, and he was all too happy to try and make the young man as comfortable as one could possibly be in a metahuman psychiatric ward.

Sky had mentioned him to Nate. She’d read his mind and heard other voices, her ability no doubt tapping into the features of Brian’s schizophrenia. He wondered whether the outcome of the encounter had been positive or negative for him… or perhaps a mix of the two.

He knocked on the door to Brian’s room, waiting either for an invitation to enter or just long enough that he wouldn’t appear to be barging in. Nate entered slowly, a gentle smile on his face as he regarded the young man before him, and pulled the door shut behind him.

“Mr. Harris? Brian?” he offered breezily. “My name’s Dr. Havelock. I’m a resident psychiatrist and neurologist here at the MNRU.”

He indicated a free seat, “May I?”

Brian’s room was similar in design to Sky’s – clean and modern, but impersonal and clinical. It was obviously all rounded edges and calming design; an obviousness that was blatant and almost blunt in its application. However, the facility was a much nicer one than previous places Nate had worked in, and he supposed clean and clinical was better than damp, dingy and unsafe.

“It’s great to meet you.” He glanced down at his notes. “I see you’ve come to us straight from the ER. How are you feeling?”

Yet again, Sky was on Nate’s list of patients to be seen. She was getting quite a lot of intensive attention, perhaps partly because of the perceived usefulness of her power and partly because she was likely to be discharged quite early. Her recovery so far had been swift – a clear sign of her real issue finally being identified. Of course she would probably require further mental health support upon discharge in the community, but Nate was confident that she wasn’t suffering from a psychiatric disorder at this point. Everything stemmed from her status as a metahuman.

“How is she?” he asked Sky’s nurse, a tall and sharp-featured woman called Angela, as she passed him some notes in the office.

“Better by the day – still quiet,” Angela added with a shrug. “She won’t need us much longer. No one’s covered up her wall yet, by the way. I tried not to draw attention to it, but she’s asking for paint.”

Nate frowned. “Huh, one of the janitors was supposed to take care of that yesterday. Maybe he’ll come round later today.”

“That’s what I said. Oh, she wasn’t very interested in breakfast today, I guess that might have something to do with it.”

Right – Sky was clearly still quite uncomfortable with her power and the wall served as a constant reminder. He’d already marked her as a candidate for counselling once she was ready to go home so hopefully that could help her – he’d rather get her out of the MNRU as quickly as possible so she didn’t end up a permanent, over-worked resident like Claire.

He thanked Angela quickly, glancing through the notes as he walked to Sky’s room. Vitals all great, no concerning observations noted besides the relatively small amount of breakfast eaten. Still, at least she’d had something.

Nate knocked on the door, waiting for Sky to open it. He called through as he waited, “Hi Sky, it’s Dr Havelock here to see you! How are you today?”

Ever the optimist, Alice had managed to convince herself that Lewis had been nice. Which, compared to Carol, Nate supposed he had been. It wasn’t as if Lewis was a malicious person – at least, not in his personal relationships – but he was also decidedly uninterested in anything that he deemed irrelevant to himself. He had been managing the table’s glasses of wine excellently, however, so Nate supposed that would give anyone a good impression.

She leaned up against him, partially for comfort – he assumed – and partially because the whole ordeal had been surprisingly exhausting. After all that wine, Nate could quite happily drift off into a nap right now (but probably best not to).

Her dry comment tickled him, and he flashed her an amused look. “That’s true – I never realised how many benefits there were to dating an orphan. No scary shotgun-wielding dad, no territorial mother… you don’t even have any siblings to taunt me. Perfect!”

Nate was glad that he himself was an only child; he could only imagine at least one of his siblings would have ended up a carbon copy of Carol.

“I wouldn’t worry anyway,” he continued confidently. “I’m a parents’ dream. Who doesn’t want their daughter to wed a doctor?” Nate decided to ignore the additional bonus of a wealthy background and a privileged education.

“So, where to?” He laced his fingers into hers. “Is that bottle of wine still in your fridge? We could drown our sorrows.” It would be nice to just do as little as possible for the rest of the evening – something that, fortunately, they were both very good at doing together. “I’ll get us an Uber.”

Alice and Ashley’s apartment was definitely quite nice, and in quite a nice area, but Carol Havelock didn’t do “quite nice”. They could walk back to his place, or Alice’s if they were feeling energetic, but both distances were further than Nate wanted to handle after so many glasses of wine. The sooner he was sat on a comfy couch, the better.

The conversation was taking a toll on her now. Too much, Nate knew. She was retreating back into herself at a rapid rate, the trembling continuing to create waves in her teacup. Her hands were at her head and Nate knew that she wasn’t really present in the conversation any more, although she was trying, of course, because Claire would always try in the face of adversity. She had a remarkable strength, considering all that she had been through, even if she herself had a hard time recognising it.

He decided not to press the matter of her skin any further – he would save that discussion for when he next had an opportunity to sit down with Dr. Newton. He imagined the other doctor would like it, mostly for its simplicity and rational, segmental approach. It was certainly an idea worth testing; it wasn’t like they were running out of needles.

She reflected his words back at him but by now it was clear that she was barely processing anything except for whatever was preoccupying her. Intense headaches, maybe, or perhaps – though less likely – some vestibular issue. Whatever it was, she at least had the presence of mind to finally set her cup on the table before it truly threatened to spill over her. She tensed suddenly at his question.

“Claire-” he began softly, concern flooding his voice.

Then her face whipped to face him, all passivity wiped from her expression. Her earlier irritation was nothing compared to the way she now raised her voice, her tone the most aggressive he had ever witnessed.

When he’d reflect later on this session, Nate would recognise the breakthrough for what it was, but right now he was horrified for having triggered this response.

Claire seemed appalled herself, her pale face managing to seem even paler somehow as she apologised quietly. She kept her gaze averted from him as she quickly distracted herself with taking her cup away. Nate looked down into his own, finishing off the last of it.

“You had every right,” he said softly. “I’ve spent all this time getting concerned that they’re pushing you too hard with your Hero work and then, here I am, pushing you too hard to talk about something that’s clearly deeply upsetting. I’m sorry.”

Nate smiled, despite himself, hoping this wouldn’t turn into an apology war. “I’m going to do right by you as your doctor and come up with a better way to work through this together, okay? But I’m not going to do it today and we can leave the session there, if you’re okay with that. I’ll just finish my tea. Thank you so much for this, by the way,” he said, having followed her to the kitchen but kept his distance. “I’ll be sure to let Harriet know that she’s got a fellow tea fan in you, she’ll be so excited.”

It was true – Harriet would love the opportunity to talk someone’s ear off about her exotic herbal tea collection. And it definitely seemed to be a good, calming hobby for Claire, plus a source of low-commitment socialising, which could only be good things. Right?

Claire deserved some good things in her life.