'the nothing i've become part two [Peter]

[Jessica Air]

It was not a good day, Jess thought, as she slammed her fist repeatedly into the wall. It was quite a bad day, really. Her last thoughts before she was sedated were a general 'fuck you, world' before she was knocked out.

She woke up, aware of a pretty intense burning pain in her wrists and hands, and a slight aching in her left hip. Well, the last was easily explained by the needle that was jammed into her, but the rest? She looked at her bandaged hands. Ah. The mirror had done that apparently. The sedative had made the last ten minutes before she was actually injected pretty hazy, but she was quite sure that she'd screamed abuse at the teacher during dance class. She began to blush, looking around the room. Isolation. There was nothing in the room beside a toilet in the corner - the thought of using it made her blush, more - a bed, which had no covers, and that she was lying on, and a camera. She was wearing the clothes she'd had on in dance, which wasn't saying much; a leotard and leg warmers. Her shoes had been removed, and she wondered why for a moment, before remembering the ribbons that laced up her ankles. She'd heard that they took all precautions when they put you in iso, but she hadn't really thought that they'd consider her a suicide risk. Like she was going to hang herself from the camera or something?

She bit her lip, forcing herself to remember exactly what had happened. Her dance teacher was being an idiot... She made them eat before class. She resisted the urge to punch the padded white walls. Was that what had caused her to slam her fist into one of the mirrors? Maybe.

No, it wasn't, she realized. It was the teacher saying that she could leave the class if she was still refusing to eat at lunch. Jess closed her eyes as she remembered what she'd done - screamed 'fuck you' or something along those lines, and then punched the mirror when she saw Morph's reflection, smirking in her general direction. Her hands were almost shaking as she remembered, the fury of the moment coming back to her in a rush. She sat up abruptly, pulling her knees close to her and leaning against the wall in the corner. How long were they going to leave her here for? What if it was overnight, and they turned the lights off? She began to chew her lip. What if they did? They might... She closed her eyes and tried her best not to cry, still trying to remember what had happened after she'd escaped from dance. The sedative made everything slightly blurry, but as she touched the back of her head tenderly, she remembered: she'd hit her head against a wall a few times. She wasn't sure about the rest.

Jess stayed like that for a few minutes - it felt like longer - before she heard a click. Jerking her head up, she saw the door - also padded, and barely visible - swing open, and her psychiatrist entered. At the sight of him, she put her head on her knees, pulling her hands up above her head in an effort to protect herself. After a few seconds, she spoke, quietly. " Um... Are you gonna yell at me now? "

[Dr. Peter Ivrie]

Miss Jessica Air was certainly one for getting herself into a scrape. Peter reviewed what he knew about the incident in question as he walked calmly down into the isolation block. He wondered how she did it. She was certainly adept at destruction. Smiling at the guard on duty, he let himself into Miss Air’s cell and closed the door behind him. He was perhaps a little surprised at what she said.

“Of course not, Miss Air.” If only because he did his best to keep his temper under control at all times, but mostly because it would achieve nothing. Miss Air was unlikely to respond to a raised voice. Consistency, as it usually was, could be lauded as the magic word in this circumstance. Indeed, if Miss Air’s own parents had applied a modicum of it, their daughter may have turned out very different.

Smiling kindly, he sat down near her and waited for her to uncover her face. Seeing this was unlikely, he settled in to ask a few questions. “I believe it was the new rules which upset you, Miss Air. Am I correct?” He didn’t look directly at her, more at the space around her. No need to make her feel uncomfortable.

“How is your hand?” Sometimes people needed and escape route from direct questioning. He was sure the injury she had sustained would be close to the forefront of her mind, and he could talk to the physician on duty should the need arise. He kept his voice quiet and reassuring, attempting to gain a little of her trust. Given her reaction to being seated in the corner, he was unsurprised that isolation would have this effect on her. He made a mental note to transfer her out, should she behave herself during this impromptu session. He’d prefer it if a distinction was made between punishment and isolation for the safety of self and others.

[Jessica Air]

Well, that was surprising. Jess lifted her head quickly to give him her best 'are you insane?' look, and then ducked it again. She didn't want him to see her face, which she suspected still had blood on it. Gross. Why wasn't she in trouble? Frowning, she tried to work it out. She got yelled at for saying that other people were idiots, or something - being disrespectful. But she was allowed to punch mirrors and tell teachers to... Well. This was strange. As she tried to work out the likelihood of Dr. Irvie having been replaced by a clone, but a clone with a better attitude, he spoke again and she rolled her eyes to herself.

" I wasn't upset, " she muttered. She was doing just great. " Nothing upset me, okay? " Jess chewed her lip, trying to make herself say the words she'd been planning for a while. It was strangely hard. After a few seconds, she blurted it out. " I-don't-want-to-do-dance-anymore. " A small part of her hoped that he'd insist that she had to. The rest of her didn't think she could stand the thought of facing Morph and the others. She'd still have to see them, if they were in the same school, but they were in different grades. That was the first time she had ever been grateful that she'd been retained a year. If not, she'd be with Morph and Yvonne.

Yvonne. At the thought, she cringed. Even if she did stop dancing and everything, she wouldn't be allowed to change dorms, probably. Which meant that she'd have to see her, which would be...embarrassing to say the least. " It's okay. " It stung, still, but she wasn't going to tell him that. He'd think she was a wimp or something, and she wasn't. Despite what Rio thought. If she wanted to, she'd self-harm, or whatever. She just didn't feel like it. " Can I go now? " Jess asked, looking up at Peter. " I don't like it here. " Hopefully, he wasn't going to be all crazy and sadistic and tie her to a chair or anything again.

[Dr. Peter Ivrie]

“Alright.” Peter nodded seriously. If she was willing to pretend nothing had happened, he was willing to go along with it. “And why do you not wish to dance any more, Miss Air?” He assumed it was because of the company. Any class with Morpheus Brown in had turned out to be a powder keg, exploding at unlikely moments. There was a second girl, Yvonne. Another of his patients, who he was sure exacerbated the situation.

He almost sighed at her question. It was a shame, but he had hoped she would speak to him of her own free will this time. “I’m afraid not, Miss Air. However, if you cooperate with me I will do my utmost to ensure you are released soon.” Or so he hoped. This was one of those occasions where it would be more beneficial to ensure she was useful than bored. “Very few do like it here, it is one of the reasons we retain it. It is found to be a slight offset to the odd unruly temper.” It did not work for everyone but for some simply the threat of being left to calm down was a target. He himself had requested to be isolated once, towards the beginning of his career, after a patient accused him of not understanding the various horrors of seclusion. After, he understood it’s effectiveness as a punishment, but preferred means which mended whatever had been broken by the outburst. Isolation, in his eyes, should be used for damage limitation and nothing further, unless of course there were no other options. Morpheus Brown ran out of options.

“If you were not upset, Miss Air, why did you punch a mirror and verbally abuse your dance teacher?” This was the crucial question. Peter hoped she wouldn’t lie to him, even if she did not tell the entire truth. He strongly suspected she had been provoked beyond simply being asked to eat, but would not know for sure unless she told him. He did hate to leave without answers.

[Jessica Air]

Jessica traced a pattern on the white-gray mattress she was sitting on with one finger, preferring to focus on that than looking at Peter. It was so much easier to lie if you weren't making eye-contact, she had learnt. " I don't want to dance anymore because I just don't want to. " Defiantly, she jutted her chin out, glaring at the psychiatrist. " And you can't make me. " It was half true. She didn't want to dance. The main reason was because of the others in his class; she wasn't naming names, but Morph was at the top of her list. Followed by Yvonne. No, followed by her idiotic teacher (what was her name again? She needed to learn that... Wait, not if she was quitting dance) and then Yvonne. Then the quiet, scared looking boy, who always looked at Morph suspiciously, which made Jess like him. Someone else that hated the bastard.

Sighing, she nodded slowly. She didn't want to cooperate with him, just for the sake of annoying him, but it was infinity preferable than being in isolation. " I don't have an 'unruly temper'! " She was genuinely outraged at the suggestion. Sure, she'd been majorly pissed-off, but there was a reason for that. It wasn't like she had IED or anything; she only got upset when provoked. Which she had been. " I'm perfectly calm, " she added, with a glare. " I don't see why I got sent here, then. I think the dance woman should have been. " She was the one with the temper. She was completely irrational; she got completely upset, just because of a few stupid swear words. And a smashed mirror... Jess winced slightly. She'd be yelled at for that, she was sure. If not by Peter, by the teacher.

Well, that was a hard question to answer. " Um... " She had been hoping that he'd somehow forget about that. Well, why had she done it? Because the teacher had insisted she ate; then, when she'd turned around to stalk out of the room, she'd seen herself in the mirror. And Morph had been laughing, behind her reflection. It was vaguely blurry and hard to remember, probably a side effect of the sedative. " Because I wasn't allowed to dance unless I ate. " That was true. She'd just left out the most important bit. He probably wouldn't work it out, although she half-wished he would. She wasn't going to tell him about anything either of the boys had done, but if he someone guessed, she couldn't be blamed for it.

[Dr. Peter Ivrie]

Peter nodded. “Miss Air, I have no intention of making you dance. Your dance teacher my have other ideas, but to me it makes not the slightest bit of difference if you dance or not.” He didn’t mention that if she refused to dance, she might well be transferred elsewhere. He suspected that may be what she wanted. “Although, Miss Air, if you refuse to dance in lessons you will not be permitted to do it outside of them. Not on your own, no practise or any other forms of dance will be permitted.” He felt it fair to warn her. By now she knew full well he followed through with his threats, so in his mind, she was well prepared for the consequences. He also knew these children tended to hold their talents as the only thing keeping their heads above water, so to speak. “I should mention to you, Miss Air. If you decide to forgo your dance classes you will join me in my office for those lessons where you would usually be engaged in dance. I’m sure I will be able to find some stimulating and character building tasks for you to become engaged with.” He made a note.

Suppressing a smile at the thought of the dance instructor in isolation, he turned to her again. “I’m afraid we are not in the habit of placing our staff in isolation, However, it was you who broke a mirror, injuring yourself, and not her. We felt it best to restrain you for your own safety. Does that make the predicament a little clearer, Miss Air?” He needed her to acknowledge she had some hand in the proceedings that led her to where she was. After all, if she did not know how to prevent herself ending up here over and over, it was an ineffectual consequence.

He almost sighed and turned to face her properly. “Miss Air. This rule applies to the entire class, does it not? I understand that should one of your classmates neglect to eat the required amount, they too will be made to sit out until such time as they have done so. It was in no part aimed at you, it simply is your teacher requiring her students to maintain a healthy and balanced lifestyle. If your body does not have enough calories per day, you may not dance as it is detrimental to your physical health.” He turned back to his notes with a point that might interest her. “You also need to eat the correct amount in order for your body to create muscle tone.”

[Jessica Air]

Jess smiled happily. Well, if he wasn't going to make her dance, her teacher couldn't. Or, if she did, she'd just tell her that Dr. Irves had said she didn't have to. That was brilliant. At his next words, she stared, open-mouthed, at the psychiatrist. " Well...That's not fair! " She needed to dance outside of lessons. She just couldn't go to the actual classes. " No, I'm dancing outside of lessons. And you can't stop me! " Maybe it wasn't the wisest thing to say, especially as he probably had the ability to stop her - most likely by tying her up in isolation forever more - but she was pissed-off. She needed to dance. Partly because it was a good form of exercise, but if she stopped, then she'd lose all the progress she'd made so far. And she'd been dancing for eleven years or something.

The idea of 'stimulating and character building tasks' sounded...traumatic to her. They probably involved torture of some description. " No! I don't want to! " Jessica knew that she sounded like a young child, but was more concerned about having to spend time with Peter than about how she sounded. She continued to glare, wondering if she should stick her finger up at him. Maybe not. That would probably result in death, or at least, a prolonged stay in isolation. " She made me break a mirror, " she muttered. " It was her fault. Anyway, the staff here don't do such a great job of keeping kids safe. "

" Well, yeah, it applies to the entire class. But none of them... " She trailed off. She had wanted to say 'are fat', but it was just embarrassing to say so out loud. " need to diet, " she finished. The part about muscle tone made her look up for a second. " I'm strong! I don't need to develop muscle tone! " She was halfway to being a sumo wrestler already. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head so it was resting on her knees again and tried her best to block out everything that Peter said. She didn't want to listen to this idiot that was probably on Morph's side. They were probably plotting against her... ' Whoa, when did I develop paranoia? '

[Dr. Peter Ivrie]

He fixed her with a straight look. “You either wish to dance, Miss Air, or you do not. I suggest you choose which. I most certainly can stop you, and throwing a tantrum is nothing but childish and insulting to both me and yourself.” She sounded exactly like a petulant child, and Peter was having none of it.

“In what way did your dance instructor make you break a mirror?” Peter asked, at least a little intrigued as to her reasoning. He assumed this was the narcissism coming into play. Interesting. “Miss Air, the staff here would do a far better job of keeping the children, such as yourself, safe if the children wished to be kept safe. How security was supposed to know you were about to injure yourself and prevent it is beyond me.” His voice was a little impatient perhaps, clipped. He’d never been as good with those who blamed others for everything they did wrong. His sister had been just the same. Perhaps that was where the irritability came from. He had never quite forgiven her for her reaction… that was perhaps uncharitable of him. Maybe he would contact her.

He did his best not to sigh. Perhaps if he weighed the dance class and showed her… no, she would most likely not respond to such a tactic. He would keep it in mind just in case. “I understand your concerns, Miss Air. However I cannot allow you to be an exception. If you wish to dance, you must eat and if you do not wish to dance you may come to me for your lessons, and you may not dance outside of class. Those are your options.” Take it or leave it, as they used to say. Peter wondered which she’d take. Miss Air’s fear of eating had to be overcome by something. If that was the need to dance, perhaps they could draw up a diet and exercise plan for her. He made a mental note to pull out some research about body weight and eating healthily.

[Jessica Air]

That was not true. Jessica wanted to dance - because she loved it, and it burnt calories - but she didn't want to, at the same time, because it was humiliating and she'd have to eat, and see Morph and Yvonne again. She closed her eyes again, leaning her head against her knees and trying not to cry. If she didn't dance, she'd get fat. If she did, she'd...well, she'd get fat anyway, because of the damn teacher and her stupid rules. "I don't know!" It came out more whiny than she'd intended, and she wrapped her arms around her legs, covering her head. "I do want to dance... I just can't go back to that damn class."

"She made me break a mirror because of her stupid rules! If they didn't exist, I wouldn't have done it, would I?" He was extremely dense, really. She let the comment about security go, not wanting to go into the whole two-sadists-restrained-and-tortured-me-for-a-bit thing. If he was a decent psychiatrist, he'd have worked it out already. Instead, he thought she was referring to the mirror incident. What an idiot. She knew that security couldn't have stopped her punching a mirror; she'd been so pissed off that God couldn't have stopped her. If he existed, that was. She was still unsure about the whole religion thing.

There was a flash of hurt when the doctor said that he 'understood her concerns', and she winced, keeping her head in her knees. "If you understand, why don't you let me diet?" Maybe she'd get a proper answer, rather than the 'unhealthily underweight' crap. "You should let me be an exception!" Her voice was on the verge of going all whiny again, and she tried her best to control it. "I want some more options." If he forced her to pick, well...she'd make her own options. She'd kill herself! It was beautifully dramatic, and sounded perfect to her.

She had tried before, but she hadn't actually wanted to die; it was more of a general fuck-you to her parents. But this time, she could actually die, and then everyone would be sorry. Jess imagined her funeral, with an extra-wide coffin, and cringed. That'd be the most humiliating thing ever... She decided to contact her lawyer to arrange her will, so she could 1. be cremated instead of buried and 2. have a funeral (or casting of the ashes, whatever) that Morph and Rio wouldn't be invited to. She was not having them there. Or Layla. Or her psychiatrist. Or...anyone.