10053/A Breadcrumb Trail

A Breadcrumb Trail
Date of Scene:	15 November 2019
Location:	Horse Stables - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	A breadcrumb trail of molted feathers leads Bean and Bear to Shannon. The two finally make her see that it's time to call in the big guns and get some help dealing with the nightmares, before it becomes too late for her.
Cast of Characters:	Nightingale, Samuel Morgan

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Nightingale has posed:
     It had been quite the eventful day for the mansion's resident winged healer-in-training. There had been plenty of good, yes, but unfortunately there were also plenty of inner demons to wrestle that just would not go back into their little prison. It was warm enough in the barn that Shannon gets away with wearing her baggy grey tank top, red tartan sweatpants, and her sneakers in lieu of her sheepdog slippers. Hey, no poop on the pups! She makes a point of stopping by Brightwind's stall to offer him a nice, big red apple, holding it on the flat of her hand so it can be all but inhaled, and a gentle pat to the nose given. Her wings are quite ragged, missing a /lot/ of feathers, and likely are in such a state as to leave her temporarily flightless.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It used to be that you only knew that Bean had entered a room when he started talking. Though by no means invisible, he had a habit of entering quietly as if expecting an ambush behind every door. These days, of course, he is preceded by the pattering of paws, and this time even a very loud snuffling followed by a doggy sneeze. Bear had found the feathers, and one had gotten stuck to his nose, trying to sneeze it off until Bean plucks it away with a pat to his companion's neck.

    The vest is nowhere to be seen.

    "So ehm... I'm going to run out of spare chrome beans if I'm going to turn all of these into a necklace for you." is Bean's opening gambit, walking towards Shannon with his hands in his pockets. Likely they're stuffed full of feathers, if the one peeking out is anything to go by.

Nightingale has posed:
     While the vest is nowhere to be seen, Shannon still does not approach Bear on her own. On the clock or off, he was still a service dog, and she would wait for Bean to take the lead there. She's very quiet, resting her forehead against the wall for a moment, not quite sure how to start. Dancing around a topic never quite worked with Bean, though, so forget about an opening gambit, she was just going right for the jugular.

     "Bean... how do you deal with the nightmares?" A very odd question, coming from her....

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Badly." is the first answer, which might not be very helpful but has the redeeming quality that it's at least honest. He taps his leg twice, and Bear stops trying to see just how big these strange dogs in the stables are, and obediently trots over, looking between the two humans as he sits.

    "If you're asking about how to not have nightmares, I'm not your guy. Believe me, if I ever figure out how to get rid of them, you'll be the first person I'll tell." giving an absent glance around the stables, as if double checking that nobody else is around... and that includes an inquisitive glance at the rafters... before he goes on. "What kind of nightmares are we talking about though? The ones where you realise you're in a big crowd and you don't have any clothes on, or the ones where everyone you ever cared about dies and you can't do anything to stop it?"

Nightingale has posed:
     "Door number two. Every success I had out there turned into a failure. You... Kitty... Logan... Kurt... Lorna... everyone I've ever helped, every single life I helped save, dead. The kind of nightmares I didn't even know if I was capable of having because they never happened in the months I've been here. And it all came out at once. Believe me, the 'caught naked in a crowd' nightmare would've been preferable." While her voice is a little more steady than perhaps it might have been earlier, and her eyes are still a bit puffy, and her color's a bit off, Shannon does have enough composure to manage to express this much, at least.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Yeah, that one... I was afraid you were going to say that one..." A bit of a sigh as Bean runs his hand through his hair, pausing to pull at the strands caught between his fingers, and then nods towards the floor. "Okay, sit down, let's talk."

    As he sits, against the door to Brightwind's stall, Bear lays down next to him, expecting the feeling of a hand going through his fur. He's not disappointed when Bean does indeed reach out for the comfort of his companion, as the wagging tail makes abundantly clear. "How long have you been having these nightmares?" He trusts Shannon enough to be honest about it.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon flops down on the ground, giving Bear his space. She just looks right over at Bean, then the rafters; however, there is nobody present up there. "They just started today. I had a total meltdown in the wellness office about it. Thing is, I know that now I've had it happen once, those nightmares are gonna come up again. But they're nothing anything I've really dealt with has equipped me to cope with."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Good." Okay. That's perhaps an odd way of putting things, but Bean seems to mean it with all his heart. He looks at Shannon with eyes that are a bit more alive than usual. Maybe his own sleep has been improving lately? "You can pet Bear if you want. I know it helps me talk about these things." And the Shepherd? Seems about as happy as can be.

    "Here's my advice... go see a therapist." Straight to the point, as might be expected. "And don't argue. Those are the kind of nightmares you get because you've been trying to hold something in for too long. The naked in public nightmare? That's just your brain messing with you. The one where you are always running late? That's your brain telling you that it's time to go see someone. This one though, the one where everyone dies and all your good works fall to ruin? That means you've waited too long. Go see a therapist while you still can. Trust me on this, it won't get better on its own."

Nightingale has posed:
     "I never felt fear out there, though. Things would go just... calm. Quiet. Like, the kind of quiet you get just before a storm, when you have those precious few minutes to act and you can get done what you have to do. And even long afterwards, there were no nightmares. Just a little pride at having been able to do and survive everything I have, and help as many as I have. And there wasn't much time to decompress, either, before the next thing would happen, so... you just kind of batten down the hatches and go out there and do it all again, because you know if you don't, then the ones you love, the ones who are relying on you, can and probably will be hurt or worse."

     Shannon still hesitates to reach out and pet Bear, even though the glance she casts the pooch's way tell a different tale. "I've tried leaving messages with Kitty and Kurt. But that was less than an hour ago, so when they're able to answer, they will. But beyond them? Who knows. Cannonball thought maybe Emma, except I don't know her well enough to let her go poking around in my brain box, and Jean's got her hands full running things, so I don't want to be a bother..." Her frown deepens, the more she thinks of seeing a therapist. "I'm not crazy."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "And so you push it down and keep going. Ever heard of delayed shock syndrome?" By now Bean has his fingers deep in Bear's fur. Clearly this isn't a topic that's easy to talk about. "You get it in people who are used to helping, or who've been trained to put the mission before everything else. They see things, or do things, or experience things in some way, that would shock anyone else to their core... but they keep going. The shock still comes, but it'll come after the mission is done, after everyone has been helped, after... always after. Sometimes, there's not enough after."

    The back of his head softly thumps against the stall door, and that gets Bear to suddenly pay more attention. Bean gives him an apologetic look, and the thumping stops. Bear settles back down, clearly in no way bothered about the second hand petting him. It's a tough job, but someone has to do it. "Point I'm trying to make... Shannon, I've had nightmares like that since I was ten. And I didn't tell anyone about them until nearly a year later, after I had my first nervous breakdown. By that time it was too late, d'you understand? Talk to people, talk to Cannonball, or Kitty or Jean or Kurt or Chris or literally anyone. Talk to them, talk to me. But don't just talk to them."

    And here he looks at Shannon again, with a rather more intense look. "Talk to them, and also see a proper therapist. A psychiatrist, Shannon, to deal with this before you end up like me. Because you will. It has nothing to do with being crazy, get that out of your head."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Already talked to Triage about it. Well... when I say 'talked', I mean he caught the brunt of it. More like screaming. Crying. Molting /everywhere/. Cannonball caught some of the molting but he didn't see the meltdown. He just saw the aftermath. Not sure when I'll get to talk to the others. Right now you're seeing the most calm part of it. The part that's going 'Well, what now?'. 'Cause I know it's going to happen again, eventually. The nightmares will happen and it's something I'd better learn to accept and deal with."

Shannon's fingers work their way through Bear's fur, the gesture an oddly soothing one, though she won't outright admit it. But the more relaxed pose of her wings gives it away, if nothing else does. A light little snort escapes her, and she shrugs. "Unless you know something I don't, are any of them psychiatrists? Because if not, then it could be a real long wait. You show me the one that's fine with mutants. Because let's face it. There is a crapton of hate and bigotry out there."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It had been a revelation for Bean how much a dog could help with these situations. Right now Bear is pulling double duty through the mere expedient of laying there quietly, knowing full well when the people around him just need a reassuring presence. Bean, for his part, opens the side pocket on his pants and fishes out a business card with a phone number, handing it over to Shannon. "This is mine, in New York. I see her four times a week. That's why you almost never see me in the early afternoon after classes. The school can set it up for you, they did for me."

    He notices the relaxed pose of those wings, so he figures it's time to drive the point home. "I'm honestly not going to let you find excuses not to go. Because you're right, those nightmares are going to happen again unless you do something about them. Preferably now. Because Shannon, I take enough Xanax that the company would go under if I didn't. I take sleeping pills practically every night, and I still get nightmares most nights. It sucks. You're not going to do that to yourself."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon tucks the card away in her pocket, hoping and praying Bean will forget about it. "At least you can pass for non-mutant. Can't exactly hide these..." She ruffles her ragged wings, and shrugs a bit. "...and if I'm gonna go see someone, I don't want to start off by essentially lying to them like that." Was she going to go see this therapist on her own? Time would tell.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "You don't lie to a therapist." The very notion seems to be ridiculous to Bean, and his tone of voice makes it very clear. "She knows I'm a mutant, she doesn't care. Not everyone hates us. I've told her everything. Everything, Shannon, including the things I'm not proud of. Because lying, to yourself or to someone trying to help you, is what makes this worse."

    Is he going to forget about this? Not likely... Bean cares about his friends more than he cares about himself. "As I said, I won't let you find excuses not to go. Unless you really want to join me on two or three security sweeps of the entire mansion every night because you can't sleep."

Nightingale has posed:
     "That actually sounds preferable. At least I'd actually be doing something to keep my friends and family here safe, instead of curling up in a little ball and crying. There's no time for tears. Or for being weak." A sidelong glance is given to Bean, as the young healer scritches Bear's ears gently; however, the venom does not seem to be directed at Bean, but at herself. "You have got to be one of the strongest people I know, to have gone through what you have and come out of it relatively intact, to have come as far as you have since arriving here. If I could only be half as strong as you are sometimes, or Cannonball, or anyone else here..."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Oh, you think I don't cry? You think I don't curl up in a little ball, wrapped in a blanket and get scared of every shadow?" Bean counters, patting Bear's back. The Shepherd watches the back and forth, ears flicking from voice to voice. "Because I did. I still do, from time to time. And you think it's productive to be up all night because you can't bear to go back to sleep? What about the day that follows? And the next night, and the day after that? If you don't sleep, you will go insane."

    Bear, hearing the anxiety rise in both voices, decides to sit up, at full eager attention to assist should it become necessary. Bean puts an arm around him... the solid presence that makes it possible for him to continue. "I'm not intact, Shannon. Not even close. But I'm functional. Getting a bit better ever day, possibly, but that's not just strength of will. That's therapy. Hours and hours of talking to a professional, of being helped. Your mind can get hurt as much as any other part of you, it just doesn't heal that well without help. So get help. I didn't get any until it was far too late. You've got a chance to deal with it before the harm is permanent. Deal with it. See a professional. Get help. I'll keep repeating that."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon continues to scritch Bear's ears even when he sits up, and even when Bean rests his arm over his four-legged furry friend. "I'm not so sure some of it is ever really going to go away or ever really be healed," she murmurs. "But I'm pretty sure that after the whole thing with Loki, the higher-ups are probably glad for a little peace and quiet and to not have to deal with a troublesome student. I'm kind of reluctant to lay this one on them, too."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "You're not getting out of this. If you won't tell them, I will." Bean's voice has gone from serious to cold, and Bear leans into him instinctively. That's a sign that the Shepherd thinks he needs a buddy, and that in turn means that the mutant can think about why Bear would think that. His tone of voice goes back to normal, after two deep breaths. "Look. I can't force you to go. But if you don't, this will get worse. I'm trying to spare you the problems I ended up with. I never had the opportunity to seek help. You do. Shannon..." Another deep sigh. "I hate to do this. I really do. But if you don't talk to the school about seeing a therapist, a proper therapist and not a student counselor... then I will. On your behalf. I'll give you forty-eight hours to do it yourself."

Nightingale has posed:
     "You realize some of that is going to depend on just how quickly I can get in touch with one of said counselors and make the request, right? I've got messages out to two of them as of an hour or so ago. No doubt you can check the timestamp on my phone if you wanted to, so you know I'm telling the truth. I'll want their recommendations on who to see as well, and give heavy consideration to yours. Especially because I've seen how far you've come." Letting out a small sigh, Shannon reluctantly moves her hand away from Bear, seeing that he's tending to his two-legged counterpart; instead, she hugs her knees to her chest. "Just a couple weeks ago, I was out here talking to Kurt. I was incredibly angry about how Ms. Burkle had been treated, to the point where it took both Triage and I to save her. I remember just... the anger. A little bit of laughter, talking to him. And when all was said and done, I couldn't remember the last time I'd really taken much joy in things. But I kept on going, just because you kind of have to."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Seeing things like that... " Bean searches for the right words. Motivating a team was one of those things he was taught to do, but it's harder when things hit this close to home. Bear notices the distress in Shannon and puts a paw on her shoulder, even as he still leans into Bean. Intelligent pupper, this. "You can't see that kind of thing and not need help. Especially at your age. And it's the anger that you'll feel, because that's the dominant emotion. I had this explained to me a couple of times, not sure I understand all of it, but... basics of it is this. The horror, the helplessness and the anger, they all exist at the same time. The first two you can't really do anything about, so you grab on to the anger. Then you get rid of the anger, thinking you got rid of all of it, but the horror and the helplessness were just hiding. Hiding until you sleep, and that's when the nightmares begin."

Nightingale has posed:
     Ooof. That paw on her shoulder got Shannon's attention, and she gets the message. Her petting duties are not over with until Bear says they are. So she goes right back to the ear scratches, making zero move to discourage the highly intelligent pupper. Her expression, though, is very difficult to get a read on. Her eyes are haunted, her brows furrowed, but the paw on her shoulder gets a bit of a smile.

     "Last night... was the most helpless I'd felt. We could see that man running for his life, shooting... then get turned into a pair of boots. That eye... that great, big bloodshot eye, and those words... those were too much. It felt like that thing was coming for us, Bean. And we'd be just as powerless to stop it as we are at the moment to help those poor survivors back in the eighties."

     Taking a deep breath, she lets it out in a heavy sigh. "I just want to feel alive again. To have the calm there when I need it, and to be able to put it aside and just /live/ when the crisis is over... to be able to feel joy again."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Yeah... " There's a pointed silence. One that has enough meaning that words probably aren't necessary. Seeing people get killed without being able to do something about it? Not the first time Bean has been through that. That's why he was focusing on the details rather than the horror. But as usual, the horror found him afterwards if his generally tired expression is any indication. "It's not though. It can't. If it could get out of the facility, it would have by now. What you saw was a very effective attempt at psychological warfare. That's not something you're ever supposed to see."

    For his part, Bear doesn't know what's being discussed, only that the two humans feel like they need him there to discuss it. So the furry sentinel sits guard, not going anywhere until his help is no longer required.

    "I can't tell you how to get rid of the nightmares, or how to deal with all this after the crisis is over. I wasn't good at that six years ago, I'm no better at it now. But I know what it's like. So... we can both look for those answers together. Deal?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly. "Deal. Also... keep me on my toes about making some noise to the counselors here? It may take longer than 48 hours, though, but keep on me till someone answers. Also a deal?" The furry sentinel's presence is more than welcome--would that all Sentinels were as cute, fuzzy, and utterly... precious, relentless in their task to lift spirits and heal broken hearts wherever they were found!