The hard edges of the world soften

[deirdre_ivy]

Date: Monday, June the fifth
Time: 1:30 p.m.
Character(s) Involved: Deirdre Burke and N. Tonks
Location: Office of D. Burke, Ministry of Magic
Complete or Incomplete: Incomplete
Rating: PG-13 (estimate--all depends on what Tonks needs to get off her chest)

Comments

[nymphadorauror]

This was not a great way to start the workweek, least not to Tonks. On Monday’s Tonks was usually late, later than her normal walk in at eight. Monday’s were usually tedious and grueling because they followed after the weekend, and Tonks always had trouble readjusting sleeping patterns and habits back into scheduled timing. This day also meant the beginning of tiring paperwork, bosses, and reports to which was never fun to look forward to. Doing it for so long, the boring process of ‘working’, helped Tonks tolerate Monday’s in general, if they kept within the routine expected of them. Today was way beyond the normal routine. Today was beyond any routine, and it was nerve wracking.

Tonks finally arrived to stand in front of a door that she had been dreading over all morning, at ten when her workday finally started. She had seen her own reminder of this appointment in her jagged cursive, hanging on the wall directly in front of her cluttered desk like an omen, promising that this day would go horribly. It nagged at the back of her mind all during work, and through lunch. And still it nagged of awful consequences should she knock and/or enter. You go in there, and that’s it, you’ll be as good as toast. Now you’ll know just how mental you are, won’t that be lovely? Who cares if it’s either this or possibly face an inquiry? Which is actually worse? Tonks groaned softly as she fought the nagging yet again, proving to be more in control than she would really like, and knocked smartly on the door.

Her free hand itched nervously at the back of her neck, where the collar of her blue shirt rested, under her ratty and rather loose ponytail of pink speckled brown hair, while Tonks waited. She couldn’t bear the weight of waiting a moment longer. Her other hand was already reaching as she stepped closer, and it grabbed the handle and pried open the door when she learned the door was unlocked.

“Pardon me, Ms. Burke. It’s Tonks… may I come in?” She squeaked between the crack as she fought the urge to peer inside. Instead she stayed behind the door. Yes, she had an appointment, but hope had given Tonks the delusion that perhaps Ms. Burke was tied up at the moment and could possibly require another five minutes. She could be so lucky.

[deirdre_ivy]

There was a moment before Deirdre flicked her eyes upward to meet the young woman half in and half out of her office door. If this woman could afford to be a little late (albeit only by half a minute), she could afford to finish her own signature.

Granted, this was not the best of manners with which to greet potentially anxious clients, and Deirdre knew enough to know that she could not continue in this vein. Ergo, she rose and mustered a decently warm smile. These initial greetings were always stiff; once doctor and client had a rapport established, relations were far simpler.

"Yes, please, come in," Deirdre gestured, walking to the door and ushering in the reluctant Auror with a small wave of her hand. "We'll have a seat in the next room, if you like." Of course, some individuals preferred speaking to her at her desk; but Deirdre somehow imagined this situation was enough like punishment for Tonks--there was no need to turn it into something reminiscent of a reprimand in the headmaster's office.

She did not make a definite move, however, allowing the other woman to make a definite choice. "I gather this was something suggested by your superior." Burke's tone was ambiguous, but not unpleasant. It was conversational, familiar, as though the two had talked often in the past. Granted, it was a practiced technique to put an individual at ease, but its intent was noble. The work in this office was invaluable to many; if feeling comfortable allowed an individual to feel more open, a bit of kindness was more than worth the price.

[nymphadorauror]

“Hi. Thanks.” Tonks twisted her highly exposed nervous expression into an attempt to smile, as she opened the door fully and saw Ms. Burke approaching. She let go of the handle and shuffled her feet into the room with discreet reluctance, while her eyes glanced off to where Ms. Burke suggested. “Ah, alright.” Tonks replied as she spotted a couch that looked rather appeasing.

She glanced at Ms. Burke again, who stood there waiting for Tonks to lead the way perhaps, and instantly made up her mind to do just that. It wasn’t that Ms. Burke was intimidating and forced out decisions from Tonks, or anything like that at all. In fact, the woman seemed more pleasant than she had been at the party, and had even smiled at Tonks, so Tonks wasn’t intimidated, mostly perplexed. She decided to move to the seating arrangement because she had a very large desire to get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible, and then get on with the rest of her day. Simple enough plan.

“You could say that,” Tonks answered Ms. Burke as she twisted sideways to glance at the woman who had hit the nail on the head with her assumption. But Tonks didn’t want to fess up about how serious this meeting may or may not be. For all she knew, Mr. Robards was all talk and no action when it came to questioning Tonks’ way of things, and she might not have had to see someone in the first place. But it was too late to truly question motives and incentives, Tonks was inside the office handling her appointment. No sense to dwell in the past.

Though it would do good to dwell on the present, and Tonks always was left struggling with that. Physically she could never muster dealing with the obstacles that surrounded her on a daily basis. Today would be just the same, as she bumped into the chair that faced the sofa, while Tonks addressed Ms. Burke with a reply. She quickly turned around and chuckled, and then hurriedly planted herself onto the couch before she would be struggling again with another obstacle.

“I suppose he is worried about me. I don’t blame him, I worry about myself more times than not.” She chuckled again, because she was highly nervous about admitting anything within the presence of Ms. Burke. It worried Tonks, to think about what Ms. Burke would learn and come up with from what Tonks said, mainly because she worried the results would be bad.

[deirdre_ivy]

Tonks' internal observation that Deirdre was somewhat sunnier than she had been at the Order of Merlin 'festivities' was a perceptive one. Indeed, within the bounds of her role as a psychiatrist, Deirdre could be quite endearing.

Actually, it was the one place one could count on this one to be friendly. Burke had been at this job for a long while now; mussing things up with her typical frigid manner was not a trap she had fallen into in a long while.

Strangely enough, her affability here was no more an act than her standoffish coldness outside the room. Similar to the way in which some found release by yelling or angrily punching a pillow, these sessions were almost a means of catharsis for Deirdre; they allowed her a chance to get rid of all of those pesky little inclinations towards human weaknesses like attachment, empathy, and compassion. When she was feeling particularly introspective, Deirdre could quite easily frighten herself with the notion that she had little idea which facade was a closer representation of her real self.

Granted, Deirdre's 'nice' was another 'neutral.' Everything is relative, as they say.

Burke followed the uniquely-coiffed young woman into the room, and was replying even as a twitch of her wand summoned two glasses of water to the miniature coffee table between them.

"That's considerate of you; most aren't capable of seeing both sides of an argument." Myself included. The sudden interjection on her brain's part only put her off for an imperceptible moment. "Why do you imagine he's worried?" Deirdre took a sip from her water as she sat, adding casually "Why are you worried, for that matter?"

True, the final two questions were ones one might expect from a psychiatrist. But the offhand, conversational manner in which they were delivered led one to believe the real 'session' hadn't yet begun. No, sessions were serious and intrusive, like an interrogation! Not this; they weren't supposed to be relaxed and...and...chatty!

[nymphadorauror]

Tonks adjusted herself on the couch, for she had found herself sitting right where two cushions met, without paying much attention to comfort when she initially sat. She moved over more into the middle of the sofa, just as Ms. Burke charmed in some water.

“Oh, well… at the time he had mentioned it, I wasn’t considerate at all. Downright offended, really.” Tonks said as she reached for the other glass and then held it up toward Ms. Burke in a faint gesture, while speaking a ‘Thank you’, before indulging.

“Uh…I…oh..” Tonks stammered as she thought over the next couple of questions. Tonks was hesitant, more so because of all the possibilities of an answer, than being confronted with such an inquiry. But then the paranoia set in about this session, and made her smile nervously at Ms. Burke.

“I…well, he insinuated that I was working too much. As if! Everybody here is forced to pull in a lot of hours with all the new schedules and assignments.” Tonks then grimaced, worried that that might have been the wrong thing to say.

“I think…. As to say, I always thought I’ve handled everything as well as I can. But…lately…. I just don’t know anymore. But- it’s not like we get a handbook about life, and can look up how to handle things without falling apart, you know?”

Alright, blabbermouth, put a sock in it before you sign your crazy papers for a one way trip next door to Auntie. Tonks fell back into the couch, gently since she was holding her water, and sighed.

“I’ve never done this before,” she confessed, “So I’m not sure I’m doing this right or what. Sorry.”

[deirdre_ivy]

Burke removed her pale grey suit jacket and draped it over the back of the chair during the pause in Tonks' reply. The girl--twenty four, if she recalled the file correctly--seemed to be one of the many with unfavorable ideas about psychiatric counseling. Frustrating as it was to certain individuals, there was no getting around the fact that getting "help," as it was so unflatteringly termed, was seen as an admission of weakness, or worse, insanity.

Apparently Tonks was not the well-informed young woman she had seemed at the ball.

Deirdre only nodded in reply; certainly, one felt that one was flying blind through life on occasion. That's what this was for. She decided the direct approach was best; no sense in waiting until later to get this out of the way.

"Ms. Tonks, there is no 'right' way to go about 'this.' The only thing you can do is be honest with yourself--as you sought me out of your own volition, I am under no obligation to tell your superiors anything about this session. Ergo, I am welcome to exercise my right to doctor-client confidentiality." A Freudian would refer to Tonks as a patient; even Deirdre referred to those she met with as such on occasion. With this one, however, she surmised that Roger's approach of unconditional positive regard seemed in dire need of application.

"You are not obligated to tell me anything. However, I suggest you pause and look at what you are censoring from this conversation. Why do you feel the need to second-guess yourself?"

As an eclectic therapist, Burke also reserved the right to the traditionally cognitive technique of confrontation.

[nymphadorauror]

“Oh, right, right… I mean- yes, of course.” Tonks chimed in after the bit about honesty. Suppose it wouldn’t hurt- because of the confidentiality clause and all. Her eyes studied Ms. Burke a moment as she listened further about obligations and censoring. Yet when the next question was asked, Tonks slumped back against the cough again, (for she had sat up when Ms. Burke replied about right or wrong ways of things) and glanced down into her water- as if it held all the answers within its translucent molecules.

Second-guessing, censorship, obligations, it was all terribly complex. Tonks didn’t feel ready for this test- well, it felt like a test, and she hadn’t studied at all. Now she had to come up with an answer to a question she never asked herself before, and an ‘I don’t know’ would not suffice. So she pondered what the answer could be for a moment, really trying to dig her into her mind for clues. Not because of any influence the ‘session’ might be giving her- about mannerisms and expectations- well, they did play a part. But mostly Tonks wanted to do her best during this meeting because of Ms. Burke.

The woman seemed to secretly compel Tonks to give this whole ordeal a truthful go at it, and hell- what did she have to lose? Ms. Burke had assured Tonks she couldn’t well flunk out of this meeting.

Tonks glanced up at Ms. Burke, regarding the woman with one last questionable expression, tinted of caution, before she offered up her first opinion. She wasn’t worried the ‘doctor’ would judge her by her words; it was just a last bit lingering fear Tonks had conquered by glancing at Ms. Burke. The glance helped Tonks realize that she didn’t want this woman to see and hear the same song and dance she gave to everyone else. She would be as honest as bloody possible and try her hand at trust. Trust in a bloody stranger- fabulous.

“Because what I think is contradicting what I feel.” Tonks said quietly as she removed her eyes from Ms. Burke and stared down into her water again. “And what I feel- well it feels really wrong- but I cannot ignore it, as much as I try to, because my thoughts are too busy arguing to shut up about it all.”

Tonks never was any good at explaining herself, or practically anything really, but it all, usually, made sense to her. And it was her initial answer, to which she felt best to say and not doubt it would be right or not. Guidance of one Ms. Burke.

“I think I’m right by working, and focusing my mind on other things, instead of what bothers me- but it feels like it isn’t helping, but I keep doing it- in hopes that I’m right. I uh, second-guess myself, as it were, because I can’t admit I’m wrong, even though I know I am. I don’t have a problem with being wrong mind you, I just have a problem with the afterwards.

“The afterwards being what to do when my ideal plan doesn’t work. You know, ignore and such- what do I do if that doesn’t work? I don’t know. And that makes me feel worse, so I opt to stick to what I do. Even if it doesn’t work, even when my superior notices it doesn’t work, and my friends would know too if I even allowed them to see how awful I am doing.”

Tonks sighed before finishing.

“I’ve worried that I’d be proclaimed that I was definitely crazy, and I’d be condemned by it, from speaking with you- cause I already know I’m a bit messed up. But- the way I see it now, this is the better ‘what to do’ option.”

[deirdre_ivy]

The girl seemed to be at least in touch with the source of her depression, if she was unsure why or how it was occurring. Her contrast between 'think' and 'feel' was a bit confusing for Deirdre, although it served to illustrate the inner conflict raging between Tonks' heart and mind.

Usually, Deirdre took copious notes, or at least charmed up a recording for the files, but today was decidedly different. Beside the fact that this young woman was hardly a sociopath, the delicacy of this particular situation allowed for a bit of relaxation as far as the rules went. She continued to listen to Tonks' explanation, and, though she was frankly still very much in the dark, Deirdre felt as though Tonks had just placed a great deal of faith in her word, and was now elaborating on that which she had never verbalized before.

Still, Burke was no mind-reader. Much of what Nymphadora had just related was just a few steps above gibberish--deprived of context, Tonks' earnest confessions were merely mysterious preludes to the real problem. When Deirdre finally spoke, after a small pause had been given after Tonks' final statement, her voice was gentle, deprived of all condescension.

"I have a few questions to ask you, Nymphadora, and I will continue to them in a moment. First, however, I need to ask for a bit of background, for my own sake. What do you believe brought on all of these feelings?"

What happened to take away your happiness? It was no small question.

[nymphadorauror]

Tonks’ eyes shot up when Ms. Burke called Tonks by her first name. Instructing herself to blow off her seriously deranged pet peeve, Tonks grit her teeth and paid more attention to the rest of Ms. Burke’s words. Good thing she did this, for the next bit was a real shocker.

“What…. what brought it on? Oh gee…. I don’t….” She cut herself off, knowing full well she shouldn’t cop out. If doing this was going to attempt to fix Tonks- with whatever it’d be said was wrong with her- she might as well attempt to do her part. After all, how else would Ms. Burke be of service if she didn’t know the facts? But where to start?

“There are so many things.” Tonks said with a sigh. This wasn’t going to be easy- but was anything really easy? “And in different categories, but they are adding up. That’s what it feels like.

“I’ve lost hope, because so many things aren’t working out well at all. Love and death. And not in that order. Losing people in my life and the loss is so great.... it scares me to try and look into the future.”

Ok...so, we can summarize till our faces turn blue, it’d get no where. Tonks shifted on the cough, feeling the anxiety to speak plainer and more direct eating at her. This was so bloody hard. Why? What was the other option? There wasn’t one.

“I-I was in love with a man.... for a very long time. I’ve finally given up hope that he’ll ever share those feelings, which took a lot out of me. And then, right after that, someone else wanted to take his place. I’m not ready for that, but then… all of a sudden Miss Cain is killed, and I got scared. I kept thinking… My God, she was dead for how long and no one knew? Had I not been so self-absorbed, could I have prevented it?”

Then the flood of her issues came to a stop at just one. The one that had topped off her break down to finally push her over.

“I have dreams of the murder. Less frequent now, but they feel so bloody real. I’ve never seen someone that dead before. So alone…and abandoned. Miss Cain…. She didn’t deserve that…. she… she didn’t deserve to rot.” Tonks whimpered faintly while her voice cracked. Talking about it was making it all resurface, which is why Tonks avoided talking about the death in the first place.

Miss Cain had been a strong and independent woman, who had guided Tonks’ ambition over some pretty tough obstacles. She had been brutally murdered, and then left all alone dead as she had been alive. She lived alone, traveled all over from place to place, all because she chose to. Much like Tonks who didn’t keep a permanent residence, and who preferred to live alone. She could see herself like Miss Cain- a future life- that ended horrifically. But that was only part of the pain. The other was dealing out guilt and anger.

[deirdre_ivy]

Finally, the various threads of vague 'unconfessions' had begun to weave themselves into a cogent whole. Tonks had finally given sufficient context for Deirdre to begin filling in the blanks on the matter of what had really set all of this moving.

Strangely enough, for one who seemed so reluctant, Auror Tonks was rather forthcoming. Of course, therapy was not often a fight between patient and therapist over repressed details, but it seldom became this deep with this degree of rapidity. Burke was silent for a time; Tonks' face was an obvious indicator that the individual on the couch was still sorting through the recent revelations for herself. After an appropriate pause, however, Deirdre spoke. As difficult as this was for the patient, stopping now would only encourage reticence.

It was not Burke's job to 'figure things out' for her patients. Indeed, that was one of the many misconceptions about therapy: that it was the coward's way out, in which one paid another to deal with one's own psychological difficulties. On the contrary, a therapist merely provided the means by which one could understand oneself, and the tools with which one could combat future challenges.

All of that considered, Deirdre could not help but blatantly state her first point. It was too essential to be missed.

"First, you must understand this: you could not have prevented Ms. Caine's death. Even if she had not elected to be alone--of her own volition, recall--, it is likely that you would have been harmed had you been by her side. Survivor's guilt, Tonks, is hardly something you deserve."

The sound of Burke's voice halted. When it began again, it was uncharacteristically soft.

"There are several theories about dreams; in my experience, they indicate what has preoccupied us of late. Recurring dreams point to a problem our brain is as yet unable to resolve. An experience that has deeply affected us often demands to be dealt with: dreams of this nature are your mind's method of getting your undivided attention."

There was another pause. If there was one environment in which Burke could be supportive and caring, it was this.
"You...discovered Ms. Cain, correct? Why do you think you feel a responsibility for her death? You do feel responsible, don't you? Please, stop me if I say something incorrect."

[nymphadorauror]

Her fingers hurt. Her knuckles too, now that she thought about it.

Tonks was pulled out of a wreckage of thoughts when Ms. Burke spoke, making Tonks lift her head and focus, once more, on things of real value and not sporadic thoughts and memories. That’s when she noticed her fingers ached, and she forced herself to stop squeezing her hands into tight fists and relax.

Ms. Burke had demanded the new focus with her voice. It was firm, but not aggressive as it strongly requested Tonks to listen. It was good enforcement that kept her mind at bay; even as the words provoked some thoughts, Ms. Burke’s voice was at least telling Tonks ‘I am here too, you are not alone.’

Tonks listened to what Ms. Burke said, and put forth extreme effort to take her words with an open mind, considering them as each topic was addressed. The pauses the woman took gave Tonks time to focus her thoughts into collaborations with Ms. Burke’s points and comments. It was a jagged conquest, but it did end well enough when Tonks was expected to answer a few questions.

“Well…. It’s not so much a hurt because I think I could have stopped Fenrir from killing her. I mean, they don’t have werewolf combat training here, or anything like that. I don’t rightly know if I could have done anything at all.” Tonks said as she tilted and lowered her head, while her shoulders rose up to pose a shrug.

“I-I did find her, yeah…. And that’s just it. That’s what hurts. I put off going to see her for days. I was having troubles-personal hoopla that was making me lose sleep…. And I put off my visit.” Now Tonks was fidgeting again, this time with the folds of her blouse, rolling them and pinching them with her fingers.

“The first owl…and no word back. Then another…and nothing. And I was so stupid not to realize then that was bad. Miss Cain would have sent me an owl back, and not just ignore me. So, for two whole weeks that woman was disrespected, mauled by infestations of vermin, all because I was caught up in utter nonsense.

“It was my fault she was left out there to rot. Mine….because I was too busy pushing someone out of my life- that wanted in- all the while not realizing I was losing someone else too.”

Tonks drew in a deep breath and held it as her mind recalled that dreaded evening, and the repercussions of her procrastination. She ran her hands up to the sides of her face, and tried to press away the sting of tears that were itching in her eyes and flushing her cheeks.

“In my dreams, she is still alive when I find her, but she looks the same as she did. And she keeps asking me why, asking me why over and over- and all I can do is what I did that time. I stare… just stare for a long time. But when I finally turn to run back to her house, as I did before, I wake up.”

[deirdre_ivy]

If Deirdre was being honest with herself, brutally so, she would have admitted that she hardly expected this session to reveal anything of psychological weight or importance. Referrals from superiors usually indicated a problem between the two individuals on the job; a personality-clash turned to a potential grudge. An authority issue.

She would have to reassess her paradigm.

"Everything is relative. Do you really think you should beat yourself up merely because you were focusing on your personal troubles? In extraordinary circumstances such as this, it is common to ask yourself 'what if?'"

"However. This was not your fault. Your personal difficulties might seem selfish, but when taken out of the context of tragic circumstances, they are perfectly normal."

She attempted to be soft. Deirdre, as was required of all psychiatric students, had been through this experience several times in Tonks' position. This, perhaps, accounted for her uncanny ability for kindness within a therapeutic situation. She could recall, as if it were yesterday, the pressure of water behind her eyes and the torturous squirming of her insides as she tried desperately to defend herself against a finger pointing and declaring discovered insanity. Deirdre remembered the brutal fear that there was something wrong with her; she would rather hide everything true about herself than discover as much.

In this way, Nymphadora Tonks was a stronger woman than Deirdre Burke. She was fully willing to push through the grief, guilt, and shame to healing. There were those that preferred to bury.

"Do you think this dream might be giving voice to this guilt? Perhaps you are questioning yourself through the image of Miss Cain."