Posted by Lieutenant Faye Calloway (Mission Specialist) in Brig, Day 2- Disentanglement

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Zef Rollo (Counselor) in Brig, Day 2- Disentanglement

Posted by Lieutenant Faye Calloway (Mission Specialist) in Brig, Day 2- Disentanglement
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)

Zef knew it would be an intricate situation that landed Faye in the brig, but she had no idea it would be that bad. No wonder the woman before her had so many personal issues to deal with every day of her life. She’d been through so much. But how to help her immediately? The things Faye had endured would take months, maybe even years, of therapy to deal with.

“From what you’ve said, there isn’t much time to put you in a position where you feel more in control, so we’ll have to be creative.” The counselor got up from the chair and began to pace while she thought of ways to make Faye feel more confident in herself for her meeting with her handler and the Captain, instead of giving in to the victim she was.

—Zef, CNS

Somehow watching the counsellor pace actually made her feel a bit better, like it was now understood that Faye wasn’t just being dramatic. She could be rather dramatic, she knew that, but this wasn’t what was happening. This wasn’t her brain going frenetic and making things ten times worse than it was. The danger was real.

Faye took a deep breath, letting her ribcage fully expand. “In the drawer in my bedside table in a single piece of paper folded into quarters. I sat down not long after I was released to guest quarters on the Atlantis and I wrote I list of things I wanted to do. I called it my bucket list, but in therapy when I showed him, Doctor Rinker rejected that phrase. Because I was no longer about to die. But they were things at the time that felt… important and maybe, I don’t know, hopeful. One of them was finding my mother. Twenty-five years! All this time and in one conversation with her I realized just how messed up it all is. How I wanted to blame her for not being there, but the truth is that we were both just victims of circumstance. That we both made decisions under impossible circumstances so we could keep going. Ships passing in the night and all that.” Faye shook her head. What she had told Pretha was still true: it made her sad.

And suddenly small things felt clearer to her, including some uncomfortable realizations she wasn’t sure she was fully ready to deal with. “I think the surprising part was that I thought I would be the one of the two of us with PTSD. I think the only reason I was never diagnosed with it after my imprisonment is that I was exceptionally focused on recovering. I was determined to stay in Starfleet and given I was half dead when they found my shuttle after my escape I had a long way to go.” Faye’s lips trembled. “She was there,” she said in a hushed voice. “She had been undercover, for who knows how long, when they brought me in. And she had to… see all that. She was also the one who helped me escape, though I don’t have very clear memories of it. It’s all so hazy.”

~Faye Calloway, Prisoner

The more Faye revealed, the more progress she made. Zef knew that and wanted her to continue in a positive direction, but time was running out to get her prepared for the face to face that was coming. She noted the protein shake was only half gone. “You should try to finish that. It will help you think more clearly.”

With a reluctant nod, Faye picked up the glass and downed the rest of the contents. It wasn’t that it tasted bad or anything, but anything in her stomach was potentially problematic while she was under intense stress.

Returning to the chair she’d abandoned, Zef chewed at the inside of her lip. “I don’t have a lot of wiggle room in what I can provide you with to increase your confidence, but there are a couple of things that might help. First off, we can get you something more professional looking to wear. I can’t give you your uniform back, but I can replicate something close to it. Do you want cosmetics? It’s possible one of the telepaths on the ship could relieve some of your stress and calm your biology and mind if you’re willing to try.”

Faye immediately shook her head. “While I appreciate the suggestion, I have worked really hard to make sure that the rest of the crew wouldn’t be harmed in all this chaos. And while it could work, there are so many bits of restricted information in my head at the moment. Not only could I not protect a telepath from the darker chaos in this brain of mine, but I don’t have the energy to divide my mind, to keep them out of things they shouldn’t have access to.” In fact there was a fear there she wasn’t sure how to explain, or if there was time to.

She leaned forward and placed her hand over one of Faye’s. “Remember, you aren’t the only one who has to believe you are sure of yourself. The Captain and this Blue person, also need to feel it. The things I’m suggesting are mostly cosmetic, but appearances can be very important in certain situations. Also…I believe you, Faye—for whatever that’s worth.”

—Rollo, CNS

And just like that, Faye’s stormy grey-green eyes welled with tears. She nodded. “It’s worth a lot,” she whispered. “Some people have been willing to give me the benefit of the doubt, and they don’t know any of what I just told you. But others? Oh Zef, they have looked at me like I was something detestable they had to scrape off the bottom of their boots. And I can’t blame them for that, either. But…” She forced herself to take a deep breath. “It hurts. More than I thought it would and the longer I have sat in this cell, the more I realize it’s because I don’t want to lose my home and my family, and I am worried that even if I do everything right and things go my way, that afterwards, I will have lost it anyway and have to start from scratch yet again. And I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that, to pick up the pieces. I mean it just feels like one too many hits right now.” She didn’t right now, but probably later when she replayed this conversation she’ll have realized she used the woman’s first name. Whether that was good or bad or okay in this case, she didn’t yet know.

She gave Faye’s hand a squeeze. “I know from my own experience how being shunned can hurt.” There was no more explanation, just that statement. But it was heartfelt and honest.

Sitting upright and closing her eyes for a moment, Calloway mentally gathered herself. “Black trousers and a black shirt. It’s what I often wear off-duty.” She opened her eyes and gazed at Rollo. “And if I can’t wear my uniform, maybe I can have at least my boots back?” She wiggled her socked feet. “The deck is on the cold side. And I sort of want to face my fate with something amounting dignity.”

~Faye Calloway, Prisoner

The counselor sat upright now, breaking the physical bond with Faye. “I can arrange that. In fact, I’ll take care of it as soon as we’re done here. Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything?” She gave Calloway a few moments to think it over. “Any messages you’d like me to pass on?”

—Rollo, CNS