Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Janna Kingston (Counsellor) in Psychiatry Suite - Psych Eval - Wouldn’t You Want to Peer Into This?

Posted by Civilian Rollin (Lounge Host) in Psychiatry Suite - Psych Eval - Wouldn’t You Want to Peer Into This?

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Janna Kingston (Counsellor) in Psychiatry Suite - Psych Eval - Wouldn’t You Want to Peer Into This?
Posted by… suppressed (9) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snips)

Rollin set his mug down with deliberate care, and when he spoke, the usual sparkle was gone from his voice.

“My dear Counselor,” he began, steady but not sharp, “we are new friends, so I know you meant no harm—but your words have cut deeper than you realize.”

It was the shift beneath the surface that struck Janna first, and then his words rolled over her. Her heart sank. It was inevitable that sometimes she was going to misstep. She was a fallible person and was not going to get it right every time, nor did she ever expect to. Besides, this was not an evaluation. Did she want him to be cautious? yes? Of course. But there were many ways to convey something and this time it landed with a thud rather than being a simple nudge.

The smile he offered was small and sad, carrying more history than humor.
“I have lost and hurt as fiercely as I have loved and laughed. I’ve watched cadets—children, really—snatched from this life before they’d had their first taste of it. I’ve seen officers scarred beyond recognition—some on the outside, most on the inside—never again the people they once were. I’ve buried captains in their prime, including my Jo, gone in an instant, their futures unwritten. I have lost ships full of friends, lovers, and strangers I’d yet to meet. And through it all, I have known exactly what the uniform asks, and the fires those who wear it must walk through.”

He brushed at the corner of one eye, voice softening.
“I may have stepped out of Starfleet, but not out of the equation. I choose to be here—to bring light, laughter, and, when it’s possible, love—to these officers and crew. Every one of them deserves to feel seen, to be reminded there’s joy in the galaxy, especially this far from anyone who might love them at home.”

He leaned back, the easy glint sliding back into his eyes like it had never left.
“I’ve been called many things—most of them deserved. But complacent?” His smile warmed, playful again. “Never.”

An almost too casual beat, and with all his previous theatricality intact, “And if you doubt me, I have a Romulan disruptor behind the bar that says otherwise.”

He didn’t elaborate—just let the words linger, leaving it entirely unclear whether the joke was in the grin… or in the truth.

-Rollin
Just Rollin. That’s quite enough, Darling.

There was a tension between instincts, practicality and knowledge. In this case, she only knew about Rollin what he had offered her thus far, and stilll chs chided herself for underestimating the depth of his commitment. She would not do so again.

A small frown graced her lips but Janna’s gaze never wavered. She breathed in the truth he had laid down for her, and she let it settle into her. With a small nod, she leaned forward, reaching a hand out, an offering, a correction. He might have reverted back to his more carefree demeanour, but Janna

“Please forgive my error. You’re right, we’re new friends. As such, we’re still learning about what is okay and what is not. Thank you for letting me know the truth, rather than brushing it off as others might of. It matters to me that I understand the right things about people in the right way.” She smiled ever so softly. “And sometimes it gets a bit messy.”

~Janna Kingston, CNS

Rollin looked down at the offered hand for only a heartbeat before taking it gently in both of his own. His palms were warm, his grip unhurried, and when he spoke again the usual lilt in his voice had softened into something steady and sincere.

“My dear Counselor,” he said, giving the lightest squeeze, “there’s nothing to forgive. You gave me an honest moment, I gave you one in return—messy, perhaps, but I’ve never trusted anything that came without a little mess. It’s how we find out who we’re really dealing with.”

“This is very true”, she said, her words soft, though filled with knowing.

His smile deepened, no longer hiding behind performance, and a glint of quiet recognition passed between them. “I see you, Janna Kingston. Not just the uniform, not just the title. And I think you see me—not just the robes and the grin.”

Was that true? Did they see each other? Yes, she believed it was was. But there was a particular way the words I see you rolled off his tongue that stilled her for a moment. It required a moment of self-reflection to understand what was happening within her.

He released her hand, leaning back in his chair with a slow exhale, the earlier tension dissolving like mist. The silence between them was comfortable now, edged only with the faintest spark of mischief as his brow lifted.

“So… do you think I’m fit for duty?”

-Rollin
Just Rollin. That’s quite enough, Darling.

She broke out into an open laugh, delight etched into her features. The tension was broken, but the truths still sat between them, acknowledged.

“I’m not used to being seen,” she said. Simple words filled with years of professionalism but also her own issues, her own trauma. Janna Kingston enjoyed her life and was content to make it what she could, but only a few crossed a threshold to see beyond the friendly smile and wise advice.

~Janna Kingston, CNS

Rollin’s smile gentled at her words, the faintest curve at the corner of his lips, less show and more knowing. He tipped his head, studying her the way one might a piece of music that revealed more the longer it was played.

“Not used to being seen…” he echoed, letting the thought roll off his tongue as though testing its weight. “Then you, my dear, have been working twice as hard all these years. Carrying everyone else’s truths, keeping their secrets safe, making sure the world never tips off its axis… all while keeping your own light dimmed just enough not to draw the gaze.”

He leaned forward, voice low, intimate but not heavy. “It’s a dangerous thing, isn’t it? Being seen. It means someone might actually know you. Might remember you when you’d rather fade into the background. Might even care.”

She was sure he meant his words to land a particular way, to have weight. As they settled over her, she wrestled with the dark shadow that lay under that only a few here had been allowed to see. Some days, when things were hard, that shadow threatened to pull her under, consuming the threads of happiness she had crafted in her days. But there was that moment on Risa, in the Mirror Universe, where she had thrust herself headfirst into danger and lived to tell the tale. A first, but not a last.

A pause, then his grin returned—softened now, but still unmistakably Rollin. “Of course, it also means you get to laugh like you just did—bright, unguarded, and utterly glorious.” He leaned in close, “And trust me, darling, the galaxy is much, much better for it.”

-Rollin
Just Rollin. That’s quite enough, Darling.

She beamed, not just at the truth of his words, but the compliment inherent within. But the smile was softer. Not dim exactly, just… burdened. “I do let people see me, but I’m very choosy about who that is. I don’t have the time or patience for insincere or superficial. My life is complicated enough.”

~Janna Kingston, CNS

Rollin’s expression softened further, the shimmer of playfulness never quite vanishing, but tempered now by something steadier—something rare.

“Oh, Janna,” he said, her name rich with warmth, “then I am honored. Truly. To be among the choosy few… it is no small gift, and I don’t take it lightly.”

She tilted her head and half bowed it to him in acknowledgement of his words and their truth.

He rested a hand lightly against his chest—not the grand flourish of a stage bow, but something quieter, almost reverent. “I’ve spent much of my life wrapped in light, laughter, and robes too long for starship corridors. But to sit here, across from you, and be allowed a glimpse beyond the smile—that is a treasure greater than any stage could grant me.”

His gaze lingered, not heavy, but present. “I am grateful. Grateful that in all your complicated days, you’ve let me take up even a moment of them. That is no small mercy, darling. No small mercy at all.”

And then, with a flicker of mischief returning, he leaned back with a smile just shy of dazzling. “Of course, it does put me in a predicament… now I must find a way to be worthy of the company I’m keeping.”

-Rollin
Just Rollin. That’s quite enough, Darling.

She smirked and took a final sip of her almond steamed milk before setting it aside. “Oh, somehow I have no doubt you live for the challenge.”

“I say my days are complicated, but I also welcome the moments where things are simpler, when they just… are.” Her smiled filled her eyes long before it touched her lips. “But I also know that if I truly wanted simple, I’d have packed my bags after my disastrous cadet cruise and gone back home to Vega and pretended to live a safe life. Sometimes, we’re just not meant for simple, now are we?”

~Janna Kingston, CNS

Rollin let her words hang in the air a moment, his smile slow to form but warm when it did. He tilted his head, as though studying a rare and fascinating piece of art.

“No, darling,” he said at last, voice low and rich, “you and I were never meant for simple. The cosmos didn’t waste its time weaving such intricate souls only for us to settle into tidy corners and pretend we could be content.”

He shifted in his chair, one hand extending as if he might pluck her thought right out of the air. “Safe can be sweet… for others. But for those of us who have tasted the fire, safe becomes… unbearable. It smothers rather than soothes.”

His tone softened, less flourish now, more truth. “I think we walk the complicated path because it’s where we’re most alive. Where laughter cuts deepest, where shadows feel real, where triumphs—no matter how small—taste like wine instead of water.”

Then, with a wicked glint, he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, robes whispering around him. “And besides… can you imagine either of us fading into the background of some quiet little life? The galaxy would riot at the loss.”

He chuckled lightly, but his gaze held hers, steady and appreciative. “So no, not simple. Never simple. But worth it? Oh yes, my dear. Worth every step.”

-Rollin
Just Rollin. That’s quite enough, Darling.

Her breathe lay half way into an exhale. Not quite caught in her throat, but weighing more heavy. He wasn’t wrong- not entirely- but the truth was somehow more complicated, more painful than choosing a complicated existence. She already lived a complicated existence- it was woven into her every cell for more tangibly than most of her shipmates would ever know.

She forced out that breath, the previous amusement fading from her eyes. “I have to believe it’s worth it. It’s the only way I can keep going, especially out here in the void and the places in between.”

~Janna Kingston, CNS

Rollin didn’t rush to reply. He let her words rest between them, steady as a heartbeat. When he finally spoke, his voice carried no theatrics—only warmth.

“It is worth it, Janna,” he said simply, the words sure as stone. “The fire, the shadows, the ache of it all—worth it, because of what it shapes in us, and because of the lives we touch along the way.”

It was what she told her patients all the time, and she really did believe it to be true, but sometimes Janna had to admit that on the harder days, her heart and her brain warred on the matter.

His smile was soft now, the sparkle there but quieter, like starlight rather than stage-light. “And sometimes, when believing feels impossible, it helps to have someone else say it aloud. So allow me, tonight, to be that voice for you.”

She didn’t have to express her gratitude, it was there in her eyes, in the way her exhale softened her shoulders. Sometimes, a gentle reminder was all one needed. Janna nodded.

He leaned back, robes settling like a curtain at the end of an act, and exhaled a contented sigh. “Now then… I think we’ve both earned the right to call this a session, don’t you?

-Rollin
Just Rollin. That’s quite enough, Darling.

A quirk of her brow matched the lopsided smirk that slipped onto her lips. “I daresay we were treading close to the line, but then again, when two professionals sit with each other in this way, we cross back and forth over the line rather easily. Occupational hazard and all that.” She reached forward and lifted her cooled mug. “But you know where the almond steamed milk is, and should I not be here, I do tend to be findable.”

~Janna Kingston, CNS

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