“So, Stephanie, how do you feel?”
A simple enough question, really, the answer should be easy, right?
She was a pretty, white, blonde, college kid, life was easy, right?
If that were the case, she wouldn't be sitting here, being watched like a hawk by the therapist Leslie- sorry, Doctor Thompkins, basically ordered her to go see.
So. How did she feel?
Letting out a sigh, she shifted in her seat, pushed up her sleeves, fresh war wounds from a not so clean fought fight still healing on her forearms, her skin having been torn away in patches, no longer needing the dressings, so she didn't bother with them, and raised both her brows, rotating her arms at the elbows slowly, holding them out.
“Do you mean physically, or emotionally, Doc?”
She watched the quick flicker of surprise pass over the therapist, Doctor Greene's face, before she had it back under control, pursing her lips slightly.
“Doctor Thompkins warned me you would be reluctant. She also warned me that you might try to shock me. She cares about you, Stephanie.”
Leaning back in the seat, Steph folded her arms, and legs, lowering her chin slightly, resisting the urge to puff out her cheeks in annoyance.
“She tell you anything else about me…?”
The pout was definitely coming though in her voice, though, and Doctor Greene smiled lightly at it, swiveling in her chair behind her desk, setting down her notepad.
“She told me you had secrets. I'm good with secrets, you know.”
How condescending. Steph rolled her eyes and groaned, unfolding her arms and letting her hands fall against the cushion either side of her thighs with a dull thud.
“No, really, I am. You couldn't get me to tell you anything if you tried.”
“I dunno, I used to think that too. Then I was tortured for three days.”
Steph wasn't sure why she said it. It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself, and she wasn't sure what was worse, the hollow voice she said it in, or knowing that she would probably break under torture again if it happened. It took her a second to realize she was staring right at Doctor Greene, blank faced, while she was dwelling on those thoughts, who looked genuinely concerned.
“...I hope that's a very dark joke, Stephanie…”
Setting her jaw, in a fashion familiar to her, but not usually something done by her, she shakes her head slightly.
“...no”
“Would you like to talk about it…?”
Stephanie let out a harsh, barking laugh, making the doctor jump, she hadn't been expecting it.
“Absolutely not.”
Taking up the pad again, and scribbling away, Greene asks
“Well, what about home life then. How is that?”
She was trying. Trying hard. Steph had to give her some credit there, at least. She’d throw her this bone.
“Home life? My father is a two bit criminal who has been in and out of Blackgate my whole life, and my mother is a nurse who up until about two years ago was high on about anything she could get prescribed. This is Gotham. How do you think my home life is? I grew up around crooks and no-goodniks. Hell. My father has used me as part of his stupid schemes before. He tried to use me as insurance to make sure the Bat would be his heavy.”
Stephstoptalking
“My dad, oooh, he's a real piece of work… he's tried to kill me, you know? He's my arch nemesis. He threw me off a roof, he left me with one of his buddies for a week while he was trying to take mom to rehab, and that guy tried to f***ing rape me, I couldn't be anywhere near adult men for… I can't even remember how long after that. Sure, he killed the guy but that doesn't make up for it, that just makes him a murderer, and a sh*tty father.”
She stopped pacing to run her hands through her hair, holding it back for the big one. The kicker.
“He made a bunch of kids in my collage into criminal meta humans to be villains to fight me, to lure me to his prison so he could POISON ME WITH ALIEN SPORES AND PUT ME IN A COMA!”
Her voice continues to rise, and she motions with her hands like her mind was exploding, whipping around to look at Doctor Greene, who sat, pen in hand, dumbfounded. Blinking slowly, she sat the pad down again, formed a tent with her hands, and rested her chin on them.
”...huh… I think I understand what Leslie meant by secrets now… ok… you're one of them.”
Taking several, long, slow, deep breaths, Steph slowly sat down, rubbing her temples with her fingers.
“Yeah. And I really don’t wanna talk about anything that happens. I shouldn't have said anything about my dad. He just…”
She lets out a low growl, and Greene nods.
“I can see why. It's a lot to go through. You're still so young, to have dealt with that much already, as well as what I'm sure you see during the night job.”
Stephanie says nothing, simply nodding.
Sometimes it was hard. She knew the others didn't think she took it as seriously as they did because she wasn't grimdark broody faces like they were. But if she had to deal with going back home, the job, and her own crippling self esteem issues by being the way they were, by not having fun with things, by being stone faced, she would go LITERALLY INSANE.
Realizing she was still being watched, she expressed exactly that thought.
“I appreciate the concern, I know Leslie cares. She took me away after I died to recover after all. Oh, yeah, I died. It was from the torture. No, I'm not going to talk about it. But talking things out? Expressing my feelings? That's just not what I do. I cope by punching faces. And yelling about how sh*tty my dad is.”
“And awful, poorly timed jokes…”
Greene notes, Steph nods, admitting defeat on that one.
“I think time's up, Doc… and no, I won't be back…”
She says, quite firmly, getting to her feet again, Doctor Greene rising too.
“I didn't think you would be, Stephanie. Take care out there.”
Steph was walked to the door.
She lied, however.
She was back, later that night, in her suit.
She took the damn notepad, and removed the digital client file.
