Re: Insidious [DisgruntledCute+Ringmaster]

[Colorful Catharsis]

To fuck with you.

"To bring closure to my losses."

He sat down in the chair, sinking down into the cushion. He folded his hands neatly as he stared into the other man's face.

"I've been offered many different psychological services. Many in my childhood." he dangled some bait of childhood issues, he knew it would be like gold to the doctor.

[DisgruntledCute]

Caine scribbled down a note to himself.

"If you're looking for closure, I think we can work quite well together. Trying to move on is never an easy task. What many seem to lose focus of is the fact that in order to move forward, one has to accept the past. There is no alternative. To reject it is a fallacious exercise in futility. Loose ends are unacceptable to a critical mind." he studied Thomas closely, oh yes, there was a mind in there, "You may have rejected past psychiatry, but I assure you this will be worth your while and you'll walk away stronger, and a better man for it."

"Tell me, who are you thinking about right now?" Caine asked snapped back to a question, rather than his monologue suddenly.

[Colorful Catharsis]

"Well I'm thinking of you of course. You're in front of me." he said, leaning his head to the side slightly.

"Who I think about frequently however, is my wife." he continued, not dodging the question. He needed to be honest with the doctor, or else it might encourage him to poke and prod into things he didn't need to get into.

[DisgruntledCute]

"Tell me about her." said Caine, making another note.

Dr. Caine was many things. Overly impatient was not one of them. The slow burn, getting to know all the details could make the pay off so much better. Mr. Greyson was appropriately eager it seemed, willing to get down to brass tax. You'd be floored by how many grown men fell into nervous babbling, as if this were some sort of first date.

[Colorful Catharsis]

Thomas worried his bottom lip quietly, looking past the doctor at this point and out the window. He did ask for this.

"Vibrant blonde hair, deep blue eyes. Book smart. Owned a library. Soft spoken, but authoritative." he rattled off a few things. The subject made him shift in his seat, a touch of guilt hitting his eyes.

[DisgruntledCute]

Dr. Caine caught the shift in Thomas' demeanor and tapped his pen against his lip, nodding thoughtfully.

"She sounds like a lovely woman, how long has it been since she passed?" the guilt that flicked across Greyson's features hadn't particularly phased Caine. Many spouses came to him, reeking of survivor's guilt. Typical, actually.

[Colorful Catharsis]

"About five years. Fairly recent. It's still fresh in my mind, the scene." he said with some thought. The words came out slowly, as if he was contemplating every syllable. He was telling the truth. It was still very real in his mind, very vibrant as if it had happened just happened the day before. Just as haunting as well.

[DisgruntledCute]

He furrowed his brow.
"The scene..." Caine repeated slowly, "Mr. Greyson, there is no need to rush. If you need moment, we have all morning."

The nearly pained expression on Thomas' face gave Dr. Caine's heart a small jump of excitement. His expression remained cool and clinical, an endlessly perfected response.

[Colorful Catharsis]

Caine pulled back. Thomas' eyes immediately flicked up to the man across from him, examining him closely. With any other doctor, the cliched saying might be genuine, bored even. But it was different with Caine. It reeked of a cover up.

You want to hear this, don't you? Why though? What do you get from it?

He started slowly, telling it in a very particular, very deliberate manner.

"I was late to get home. I had been working overtime to pay off a loan." he stared at Caine, mostly his eyes, the attentive air of them was unsettling...interested in a obsessed way...not a compassionate way as doctor should.

[DisgruntledCute]

Usually when telling a particularly painful story, patients tend to avoid eye contact. They slouch in their chair, making themselves small as they can. Other become rigid and tense. Thomas Greyson appeared to be the latter. Greyson searched his face, but Caine noted it wasn't the hunt for compassion he usually saw in their eye, the pleading for empathy. Even in this moment Greyson was studying him.

Still closed off, it seemed. And somehow suspicious?

Strange.

Caine said nothing, allowing Thomas to proceed at his own pace.

[Colorful Catharsis]

Thomas sat a bit rigidly in his seat, both from describing the event and staring down the doctor like a hawk.

"I remember walking in, calling to my family and receiving no answer. My immediate assumption was that they were simply watching television too loudly. I...walked into the living room...I saw..." he paused. His eyes finally moved away from Caine and focused more on the desk. A good moment passed before he began to speak again. The images in his mind were indeed vivid, and just as horrifying as the night they happened.

"I saw my daughter, Kelly first. Face down, a pool of blood around her head. I picked her up quickly, thinking maybe she'd knocked her head on something. Instead there was a very clean gunshot in her forehead." he finally spat out.

[DisgruntledCute]

Dr. Caine's brow crinkled for a moment before he smoothed his features. Schooling himself to his impassive doctor face. How very...traumatic that must have been.

And still this man was only seeking therapy now? Five years was a long time to let something like this stew untreated. There was no way a man could walk away from something like that unscathed.

Something inside Mr. Thomas Greyson was very broken.

"Go on." Caine said in a hushed tone.

[Colorful Catharsis]

Thomas crossed his legs neatly, leaning his head on one hand.

"I picked Kelly up...and made my way, albeit a bit slowly, to Savannah, my wife. She was in the same condition." he continued. He paused briefly, thinking on a reason. Caine would ask for one, and he needed a story.

"I assume it was a robbery. They must've been frightened away by what they did, nothing was taken." he said. A sigh. "And...holding my daughter I laid with my wife on the floor a while, before the police came." he finished. The story was quick, and the doctor would probably request detail on the matter, being so grossly interested in the tragedy of others. Or at least that's what he felt off him. Thomas looked up at Caine.

"And that's it. That's all." A blatant, unabashed lie, but Caine wasn't going to get anything else out of him, not right now.

[DisgruntledCute]

Caine nodded, slowly letting the information digest.

"You said you felt responsible...because you weren't there for them?" he inquired. "You allow yourself to take responsibility because you weren't able to prevent a tragedy in your own home. There is a name for this sort of reaction, its called in laymens' Survivor's guilt." He could sense speaking down to Thomas would probably annoy the man but he continued on, "This should probably be where we start our focus. Mr. Greyson what happened to your family was unspeakable, but you must not blame yourself." he said earnestly.

"After all, it was not your fault, nothing you did incited this."

[Colorful Catharsis]

The Greyson watched him carefully. The manner in which the doctor explained the illness was...proud. Pretentious. Condescending. He'd need to fix that, it could prove problematic in the long run.

"I know what it is. I understand my guilt is unjustified."

Yes it is.

"I know and understand it. That's why I haven't seen a doctor in so many years." he rested his hand under his sturdy jaw.

"I don't need babying and comforting. If that's all I'm here for..." he sighed, pale eyes flicking over to the doctor with brief disinterest before attaining focus on the door out.

[DisgruntledCute]

It was abundantly clear the good doctor was losing his patient. It was time to bring him back before he walked out that door with all his money in his pockets and his interesting stories locked up in his head.

"Of course you don't, Mr. Greyson. Babying you is hardly my aim." Caine said setting his pen on his notepad, "You may recognize that your guilt is unjustified but that doesn't alleviate it, does it?" he paused a beat, "So, let's just get right to it then, shall we? Usually in this sort of situation it'd be preferable to have gotten you into grief counselling right after the incident.

"As its long too late for that, you and I are going to have a quite a bit of work ahead." He clasped his hands together, "This will consist of recognizing your guilt, understanding it and eventually working to release and treat it. The focus of our work will be more than understanding, but believing that you are not the cause of this misfortune, merely a survivor. Through this, you'll finally be able to properly mourn and eventually move forward, continuing on with your life.

" How does that sound?"

[Colorful Catharsis]

His attention was drawn by the doctor again as he began talking, trying to reel his catch back into his grasp. He was doing a good enough job, as the treatment process certainly did interest him.

Even more than that, it sounded lengthy, and would be more entertaining in the long run. If the dark haired man wanted his money, he'd have to dance a little for it. A pleased smile turned the corners of the blonde's mouth.

"It sounds intensive. More so than the people before you, Dr. Caine." Thomas noted, pulling from his pocket a checkbook. He folded over a blank check and began to tear it carefully along the perforated line.

He was curious as to how the treatment would unfold, considering he was, in fact responsible for his family's death. How do you treat something so complicated. Pausing briefly to reach into his pocket and grab out a pen, he quickly came to the realization that things with the doctor could become critical.

Thomas scratched the pen across the check, leaving a long black line on it, and an indention where the tip pressed into the paper. He waved it for a moment.

"I'd turn this into the secretary, yes?" he asked, raising a brow.

-----------------

Thomas would return to Caine's office time and time again, quietly avoiding questions he wasn't fond of, while simultaneously and vehemently over analyzing the other. He found as he continued to go, the more unsettled he became. Something about the man set him on edge...made him tense. Yet he'd still return, time and time again to see him, to be as thoroughly examined as he did the doctor. What began as a pointless badgering of another individual became a full investment of the blonde's time and thought, far more than he'd like.

The man had become so involved and focused on his sessions, that he took the time to even snoop a fair bit. A lot.

Quite a lot.

Today, Greyson had entered the establishment to attend another therapy session, and happened upon the secretary's desk, minus one secretary. Without a second thought, he sauntered behind the counter and settled comfortably into the seat before nonchalantly fingering his way through files and folders, looking upon other patients of Caine's curiosity.

Looking up rather pompously at the camera that directed itself at the desk, Thomas crossed his legs across the desk, unabashed as he raised a brow at the camera before cracking open the file.

His eyes flicked over the volumes, beginning to notice a pattern. Patients would start up a plan for sessions...go on for a few months and mysteriously just drop off the face of the earth. The blonde's nosiness would only serve to bother him further, making him more suspicious of the doctor than before. Giving another, more meaningful glare at the camera that stared so coldly at him, he returned the file, and half-heartedly pushed the chair in before simply walking up to the door he knew Caine would be behind and rapping his knuckles across it.

[DisgruntledCute]

There was a knock and Caine regarded Miss Smith a moment more before inclining his head toward the door.

"Ah, that would be Greyson. Do you mind?" She gave a quick nod and scurried to the door pulling it open.

"Hello, Mr. Greyson! I'm so sorry about not being at my desk to greet you! Please come in!" she pushed the door open wider and slipped past him, "Excuse me."

"Thomas," Caine said warmly. After all this time, he'd been chided enough to largely remember to call his patient by his given name.

"Come in. Come in."

Greyson had quickly become Caine's favorite patient, leading him to lose interest in many of his side projects. The young man was fascinatingly evasive and the responses he did give gave Caine chills. Every visit was its own reward.

[Colorful Catharsis]

He gave Ms. Smith a curt nod, and turned his attention to Caine with a far more welcoming tone.

"Dr. Caine." he respectfully acknowledged the doctor as he strode into the office, closing the door behind him with a quiet 'click'.

He settled into one of the two chairs in front of Caine's desk, the leather groaning almost like the animal it once was. Folding his hands in his lap, he offered a kindly smile before speaking.

"I hope I'm not being intrusive." he said, glancing down at his wristwatch briefly, though he knew he was here on time. Impeccably.

[DisgruntledCute]

"No, no. Not at all. Dear Miss Smith had a few questions and we simply lost track time." He smiled a little to himself.

"In any case, let's just get to it today? Shall we?" His demeanor shifted, cooler and clearly more clinical.

"I'd like to discuss guilt with you, today." He paused and waited for a reaction before he would precede.

[Colorful Catharsis]

Thomas had become considerably more relaxed with his facial expressions since the span of their meetings together, and his brows piqued on his face for a moment in a curious look.

"Guilt? As far as I knew that's what this entire therapy situation was about. What in particular are you speaking of?" he asked.

[DisgruntledCute]

"Yes, Thomas, we've spent quite a bit of time talking about developing new coping mechanisms. We've talked about your time with your family, but, its become noticable that we haven't much talked about how you dealt with the guilt before you came to me."

He leaned forward a bit in his chair, "Tell me about how you dealt with it before. Please, think of a time where the guilt was over powering, too much. You were without a support system for many years. How did you cope? What did you do to alieviate these feelings? What did you do to take away the pain?"

[Colorful Catharsis]

"There were a few ways."

He paused, a slight feeling of peace washing over him as he thought extensively on his development to where he was now. To the warehouse, to it's contents and the emotions behind each body, the motivations and ideas.

The corner of his mouth turned up only slightly, enough to convey content in the otherwise troubled gentleman. He could give Caine little bits, little chips off the entire, looming iceberg. Thomas underestimated Dr. Caine greatly. The man was smart, but slow to catch up. His methods were leeching...hovering around and poking subtly for clues, for anything to build a idea off of.

Or, he was gathering information for another cause, possibly to medicate him, (he'd never swallow a pill this man gave him.) or to decide on further treatment.

No, Caine was biding his time for something, that much could be shown in the bare minimum treatment that Thomas had received over the last few weeks. As soon as Thomas showed signs of discontent with the process, Caine would scurry forward a few steps, if only to keep his client interested.

"I got lost in books a lot, mostly." he admitted. "I would peruse over Savannah's collection.

He paused.

"I became more...directly involved in the lives of others." he offered, testing the waters to see what might come over Caine. Simply experimenting. That's all they'd ever done with each other, was experiment and prod at each other. Toeing and pressing the line.

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