Sentinel!Neal 8
Next part!
This one, I have some misgivings about. As you might guess from the last part, this one deals with Neal and Peter's appointment at the Rainier Sentinel-Guide Clinic, and there's a lot of it. I think it was necessary for me to write this much, so I could figure out Peter and Neal's issues and what to do about them. But "send your characters to therapy!" scenes are rarely as amusing for readers as their authors think they are, so I'd like to hear what parts of this folks think are necessary and/or entertaining, and what could be cut, or summarized instead of shown in detail.
Also, readers of the Dreaded Bonding AU might recognize the OC's. (And it's not Kas and Angel--oddly, I didn't even think of that until just now.)
After spending a little more time in the lab-Neal stuck to the magnifying glass this time-they returned to the warehouse to open more crates. Even putting yesterday’s revelations aside, this was really a fun assignment. It was like Christmas morning, a different present inside every box.
Okay, so he didn’t get to keep any of them, but opening was always the best part, anyway. Getting to do something he was really good at was much better than sitting in the surveillance van or squinting over spreadsheets.
At mid-day, they went to lunch with Blair and Ellison-Neal suspected that Blair wanted to make sure he was being allowed to eat-and learned a little more about their story. As it turned out, Ellison hadn’t been using his senses since before Neal was born, only for about fifteen years. He’d been latent for most of the time until then, apart from something Ellison referred to as, “That time in Peru,” without elaboration. He had been in the military, but not as a Sentinel, and had already been working as a cop when his senses emerged. He had tried to hide them-Ellison claimed he didn’t know why; Sandburg said something about “fear-based responses”-until he met Blair while investigating the warehouse explosion he’d mentioned the day before.
Sandburg, for his part, had been what he called “openly UnRegistered.” There was a box on the form, apparently, that you could check to indicate that you were a Sentinel or Guide and chose not to Register. If you checked that box, instead of lying like Peter had, you couldn’t be compelled to be tested, or called into service if the Sentinel-Guide draft was reinstated, but you were ineligible for a lot of jobs, for government financial aid, and a number of other things. (Peter gloomily mentioned, when Blair explained this, that his Harvard scholarship had been fraudulent for that reason.) Rainier University had, according to Blair, been a center of the Guide civil rights movement in the sixties, and offered privately-funded scholarships for UnRegistered Guides. Blair had gone to college and graduate school on one of those. Since he’d never lied, switching over to Registered status when he started working with Ellison had been straightforward.
On paper, at least. From some of the things he said, Neal gathered that at that time, Blair’s distrust of the government had rivaled that of Neal’s old friend Mozzie. “There was wailing and gnashing of teeth,” Blair said. “Accusations of selling out, the whole thing. My own mother accused me of becoming a jackbooted thug.” He shrugged. “Back then, the plan was that I was going to study Sentinels, not have one of my own-but when I met Jim, that changed. I became a full-time police Guide and a part-time academic, and that’s pretty much how it’s been for the last fifteen years or so.”
“Could you have done it the other way around?” Peter wondered. “Been a part-time Guide and full-time academic?”
“Me?” Blair said. “No. But if what you’re really asking is if you can be a good Guide and still be everything else that you are…?”
“I was wondering,” Peter admitted.
“There’s some kind of balance to be found,” Blair told him. “I’m not sure exactly what it’ll look like, but the idea that Guides don’t have lives other than their Sentinels went out with compulsory service. Is this how you usually work? I mean, are you two usually together while you’re investigating?”
“Pretty much,” Peter said. “Neal usually goes with me when I’m out in the field, and if Neal’s in the field, I’m always with him. In the office, we’re not joined at the hip, but I’m nearby. And--” he looked over at Neal. “You can always come to my office if you need to-you know that, right?”
“Yep,” Neal said. It was possible he should have been taking advantage of that option a little more often that he did, but he’d never thought Peter would kick him out if he came asking.
Peter nodded. “Good. There are a few meetings Neal can’t come to, upper-level stuff, but that really only amounts to a couple of hours a week.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Neal added, “it’s probably not even that I need more time. Usually, when I have a problem, you’re there, you’re just not….”
“Doing anything?” Peter suggested.
“Yeah. Once you get some education, you’ll be able to help more in less time.”
“I don’t know about that,” Blair said. “I’m getting into the half-assed advice I said I wasn’t going to do, but I get the impression Peter’s not giving you much attention. There’s more to being a Guide than being in the same room as a Sentinel.”
“I’m getting that,” Peter said. “You’re going to get what you need, Neal. More time, more attention, whatever you need.”
Neal decided not to point out that Peter was just saying that because he felt guilty. He probably believed it was true, now. But if Neal started acting like he thought it was true that he could monopolize Peter’s attention, Peter would end up hating him again. Instead he just said, “Okay.”
After lunch, they returned to the warehouse for another hour, until it was time for Neal and Peter’s appointment at Rainier. Neal wondered if Blair and Ellison were going to tag along, but after giving Peter a very explicit set of directions, including a hand-drawn map, they set out on their own.
From the word “clinic,” Neal had formed a mental picture of something low-budget and medical, possibly involving linoleum, wailing children, and the pervasive smell of antiseptic, but the Rainier Sentinel-Guide Clinic proved to be a structure designed to resemble a large house, with bamboo floors and lots of clean lines. The air inside was…fresh. Not completely inert like a clean room-and the place didn’t have that oddly-muffled sound, either-but very subtle and pleasant.
He supposed that made sense.
Almost the first thing the clinic staff did when they arrived was separate them. Neal was escorted into an office by a Guide named Tim Miller, while Peter was taken in the other direction by his Sentinel partner. Neal wondered what Blair had told them about him and Peter, and if he was about to be asked to point to where Peter had hurt him on an anatomically correct doll.
Instead, Tim invited him to sit down on a sofa and chatted about his background for a while. He was a psychologist, as well as a Guide. He was in a committed partnership with Michelle, the Sentinel Peter was talking to, but they were unbounded because being able to link with other Sentinels and Guides was necessary for their jobs. “Sentinels sometimes feel uncomfortable linking with another Sentinel’s Guide, but it’s something we do all the time in our work-if we weren’t comfortable with it, we’d do research or administration instead of hands-on counseling. It’s-well, Michelle sometimes tells Sentinels she doesn’t mind me linking with other Sentinels any more than a gynecologist’s wife minds him seeing other women naked.”
Neal wouldn’t have thought of it as something that could be a problem, if Tim hadn’t brought it up, but just said, “Okay.”
“If you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to try a link now.”
Neal agreed and held out his hand. Tim put his wrist in his hand-opposite of the way he and Peter did it-and Neal started concentrating on making the link.
He didn’t have to. Almost as soon as he “reached” out, Tim made contact and they were linked. “That was easy,” Neal said.
“It’s usually not?” Tim asked.
“No. Peter’s kind of…I don’t know. I have to try to find a way in.”
Neal suspected that if he’d said something like that to Blair, it would have provoked another one of those outraged squawks, but Tim just said, “That’s something we can work on.”
He had Neal do a few very simple sensory tests, similar to what Ketner had tried on their first lesson. Neal knew what he was doing now, and got through them easily. After Neal finished reading about the quick brown fox in Braille, Tim asked him where all of his dials were, and, when Neal said they were all at five, told him, “You can release the link whenever you’re ready.”
Neal let go of his wrist, holding himself still for a moment as he checked that his senses were still normal.
“Are you all right?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes after Peter breaks a link, things get a little weird for a minute or two.” Or a lot longer than a minute, if he’d been overworking himself like he had yesterday. “But it’s fine now.”
“Good.”
They talked for a while about what usually happened when Neal used his senses. Based on Blair’s antics yesterday, Neal was prepared for Tim to freak out and start hurling verbal abuse in Peter’s direction, but he was reassuringly matter of fact, saying things like, “I see,” and “that sounds a bit more severe than average.”
Next, Tim went on to ask Neal some questions about where he lived, how he slept, what he ate. Neal didn’t have problems with any of those things-except eating after he’d had a sensory episode-but he supposed Tim couldn’t be sure of that unless he asked about everything. Neal talked about his apartment, about the trials of eating on two hundred dollars a month in New York, about June, Cyndi, and Bugsy the pug.
“Is there anyone else in the household?”
“A housekeeper, Fern, but her apartment’s over the garage-detached garage. She’s nice, too. She doesn’t wait on me,” he added, “or clean my apartment or anything, just June and Cyndi’s part of the house. Oh, and my friend Mozzie doesn’t live there, but he’s over a lot. Sometimes he spends the night.”
“Ah. Boyfriend?”
“Nooooooo,” Neal said. “Friend. Regular friend. He just…his living situation is a little weird.” He decided not to try to explain about Moz’s storage unit and his network of safe houses, or how he didn’t like to sleep under the same roof two nights in a row. “He usually brings over a bottle or two of wine, which is nice because of the money thing, and if he wants to stay, he fits on the couch. He’s short.”
Tim smiled. “Okay. So that’s pretty much your social support network right now?”
“I guess.”
“Is there anyone else significant in your life now? Other than Peter and the rest of the people at work?”
“Right now? No.” There was Kate, and some other friends he’d lost touch with, but nobody he could get in touch with even if he wanted to. “But Moz and June are great-really supportive friends-and Cyndi and Fern are around if I don’t feel like being alone.”
“All right, then. So everything’s pretty much fine medically, and with your home and social lives, apart from the financial issues. The next topic is work.”
Neal nodded and grinned. “Yeah, work is a little more complicated. How much background did you get on that?”
“I’ve seen your criminal record and your work-release contract with the FBI. The FBI pursued you for years, and now you work with the same people that put you in prison. Is that stressful? Working for the enemy?”
“They’re not the enemy,” Neal said. “More like the…opposing team. They play by the rules. The enemy’s…other criminals. Bad criminals. The Mob, Russian Mob, some of the scarier independents. You cross them, they’ll kill you, hurt the people you care about. All the Feds’ll do is arrest you. I never thought they were bad people.” He grinned. “Of course, I don’t think I’m a bad person, either.”
“Do your colleagues at the FBI think you’re a bad person?”
“Some of them.”
“Does Peter?”
“I never asked.”
“What do you think he’d say if you did?”
“I think…he’d say that we live in a society that has laws, and I broke them, so I have to live with the consequences.” Neal could hear him saying it; he could practically do that lecture in his sleep.
“That’s not an answer,” Tim noted.
“No, it’s not. I think if I asked, he’d dodge the question. If you really pressed him on it, he’d say I made bad choices, did bad things. I don’t think he’d come right out and say I was a bad person, but he wouldn’t say I’m a good one, either.” And that was okay. In Neal’s world, he was a good person: he didn’t hurt people, stood by his friends, and didn’t double-cross anyone he was doing a job with. Peter’s world had different standards.
“Does that bother you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. Well, the blackmail thing bothers me a little bit. Do you know about that?”
“No.”
Neal explained how when he proposed the work release arrangement, Peter had thought it was a blackmail attempt. “I hope that now that he knows me better, he understands I wouldn’t do that. I’m not really sure. But that’s…one of our problems. After he went to the FBI and told them everything, they basically said he could keep his job if he did this, became my Guide. I know, they’re not actually allowed to do that, force him to work as a Guide. I’m sure they said it in some way that if he tried to drag it into the open, they’d say that wasn’t what they meant. It would be worse for me than for him if he refused to do it, but he’s kind of boxed in, too.”
“I can see how that’s a problem. You said one of your problems-what are the others?”
“Until yesterday, I thought that was the biggest one-Peter doesn’t want to be my Guide. Or anybody’s Guide, really. But we learned yesterday that most of my…at least practical problems, the ones where I’m huddled in a corner trying not to throw up, have more to do with him not knowing how to be a Guide. And that’s fixable. He’s willing to learn-this isn’t a job he wanted, but he’s not going to intentionally do it badly; he’s not like that.”
“Like what?”
Neal shrugged. “Lazy? Vindictive? I don’t know. He cares about me, even likes me-he said so-but even if he didn’t, he’d do the job. I don’t have any doubts about that.”
“Good,” Tim said. “So those are the two biggest problems?” Neal nodded. “Any others?”
“Well, he’s married,” Neal said. “Blair says that’s manageable. But I…this can’t screw up his marriage.”
“How do you mean?”
“He works a lot. Even before this-me. That’s hard on a relationship. Right now, he’s saying he’ll do whatever it takes to be a better Guide, but if that means he’s not home as much, he’s not doing what he needs to do with his wife…that’s going to end badly.”
“Badly for who?”
“Everybody. She says it’s him or me, he sends me back to prison and loses his job; I’m miserable, they’re unhappy and poor. She packs her bags and leaves; he’s unhappy and resents me. She’s probably unhappy too, in that scenario. They stay married and fight all the time; they’re still both unhappy and Peter still resents me. If I had to pick, I’d go with one of the ones where I’m not in prison and have a Guide that hates me, but I’m not crazy about any of the options.”
“Are those the only options?”
“No-the good option is that we don’t let him pull that ‘whatever it takes’ shit, and make sure whatever we work out doesn’t interfere with his marriage. If that means it’s not absolutely ideal from my end, that’s fine. I’m already miles above what I’m legally entitled to-you know that if you read the case law-and I’m sure we can do even better with some minor adjustments.”
“I see,” Tim said.
“I’ve been working with him for a few months now, and he chased me for four years. I know how he gets-when he’s close to a big break in an important case, he forgets everything else-doesn’t go home, doesn’t call, forgets their anniversary, the whole sitcom bad husband routine. And then either he closes the case or the lead dries up, and he goes back to being a good husband again. I guess Elizabeth’s used to that. But he’s going to want to handle this the same way; I know he is. Thing is, that has to work out for three and a half years. That’s not forever, but it’s not short-term, either.”
“You seem to have given Peter’s marriage a lot of thought.”
Neal shrugged. “If you’re running a long con-and I’m very good at running long cons-you have to be able to see problems before they happen. This isn’t a con, but the principle’s the same.” Peter’s marriage-Peter’s feelings in general-was an aspect he hadn’t thought through when he first came up with the anklet plan. He wasn’t going to keep making that mistake. “He feels much guiltier about this than he should-Sandburg was pretty rough on him yesterday. He needs to get over that, and then we’ll be able to figure out something that’ll work for the rest of my sentence.” He nodded firmly.
After asking a few more questions to find out if there were any more problems Neal hadn’t thought of, Tim said, “All right. The next thing you’re scheduled for is a physical-I don’t think there are any medical problems involved in all this, but we like to be thorough. Is that okay?”
Neal nodded. “Sure. I just had one, for the Bureau, but I don’t mind.”
“Good. While you’re doing that, Michelle and I will compare notes, and then all four of us will sit down together. Is there anything we’ve talked about here that you want to stay just between us?”
Neal thought it over. “Mozzie. Peter knows he exists, but I don’t think he knows quite how much time he’s spending over at my place. I’m not really supposed to be associating with known felons outside work.”
Tim nodded. “Okay. I don’t think that was likely to come up anyway, but I’ll make sure I don’t mention it. Anything else?” He reviewed some of the main points of their conversation, and Neal agreed that it was all okay to tell Peter about. He wasn’t thrilled about dragging the question of whether or not Peter thought he was a bad person into the open, but he did want to find out where they stood on the blackmail issue, so he supposed Tim could mention it if he had to.
Peter’s session had finished, too, so Neal got to have him with him for his physical. Tim directed them to the medical office, in another part of the building, and they set off. “How’d it go?” Neal asked as they walked.
“Fine. Yours?”
“Fine.”
“The guy they had you talking to, he was good?”
Neal nodded. “He didn’t get as excited about it as Blair.”
“Hm.”
The physical was pretty normal, except that the doctor spent a lot of time explaining what he was doing and why, including very basic things like, “I’m going to use this stethoscope to listen to your heart and lungs.” Neal wondered if they thought he’d never been to a doctor before, or if maybe they assumed he’d been raped in prison and would be jumpy about having a strange man touch him. He decided not to ask. He did finally protest, though, when the doctor said he needed to draw some blood for lab tests, and suggested that Neal might want to link with Peter for it.
“Why?” Neal asked as he rolled up his sleeve, thinking maybe there was some biochemical aspect to linking that would show up on the tests.
“Pain management,” the doctor said.
“Seriously? I think I can handle a blood draw without having my hand held.”
“It’s not a problem, Neal,” Peter said.
Neal just gave him a look of pure exasperation, and the doctor eventually drew the blood-which hurt, a little bit, for like a second.
The physical ended with another set of sensory tests. This time, the Braille was some lines from “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening” instead of the quick brown fox, which made a nice change. The doctor expressed the usual surprise that Neal could read Braille. “I have this friend who’s really into codes,” he explained, which was true, if a little misleading. The Braille lessons had actually been part of Mozzie’s Zen approach to safecracking.
After that, they met up with Tim and Michelle in a conference room between their two offices. At least, the sign next to the door said conference room; it was furnished more like a coffee house, with overstuffed couches in a conversation circle, and a sideboard with coffee, water, and juices. There was, however, a flip chart on an easel, currently closed. Neal wondered what that was about. Was this presentation going to have visual aids?
“How are you guys doing?” Michelle asked as they took seats.
Peter looked over at Neal. “Good,” he said. Being asked for an update on his personal well-being every ten minutes was starting to get old. “How about you?”
“I’m fine,” Peter said.
“The intake process can be a little overwhelming,” Tim said, “but this is the last part of what we’re going to do today.”
“We usually start by talking about strengths, and really, there are a lot to talk about,” Michelle continued. “I’m not sure exactly what Dr. Sandburg said to you, but….”
“We were expecting worse, to be honest,” Tim finished. “I understand yesterday afternoon was pretty rough, but Neal’s clearly bounced back pretty well, and that’s a good sign.”
Neal gave Peter a look. See?
“Neal’s also in generally good health, which is another good sign,” Michelle said. “There are some medical problems that can exacerbate sensory distress, which we always like to rule out, but more often, Sentinels in persistent sensory distress will start to develop medical problems as a result of stress, not being able to eat or sleep well, things like that. Based on both the medical findings and what the two of you have described, this is more like intermittent sensory distress, and while the individual episodes have been quite severe, overall functioning between episodes is good.”
“That also explains why your individual evaluations of the severity of the problem are…different,” Tim added. “Excuse me if I’m putting words in your mouths, but Neal’s perspective seems to be that the situation is unpleasant but generally bearable-is that about right?”
“Yes,” Neal said. “Very well stated.”
“While Peter’s is that this is a serious problem that should not have gone unaddressed for as long as it has.”
“Well stated,” Peter echoed.
“You’re both right,” Tim said. “The last few months have been rougher on Neal than they should have been, but he’s coped with them very well, and he’s not shattered by the experience. At the same time, the sensory issues, which we think stem from some basic errors in practice, are very unlikely to have gotten better on their own. If we were having this conversation three and a half years from now, and these errors had still not been addressed, we’d almost certainly be seeing a different picture medically, and in terms of sensory function, and probably psychologically as well. So it’s a very good thing that you’re here now, and we can count that as a strength too, that we’re addressing these things before they’ve reached catastrophic levels. Is everyone comfortable with that assessment?”
“I guess,” Neal said. It sounded like they were leaning more toward his “perspective” than Peter’s, anyway, which was good, since his was the right one.
“But it’s still pretty late,” Peter said. “I mean, these ‘basic errors’ are things I should have known about before I even picked him up from the prison.”
“Yes,” Michelle said. “There are some structural issues that played into that, and those are likely going to be high on this institution’s advocacy agenda in the near future. In terms of the two of you getting your partnership on track, though, those issues are…tangential.”
In other words, Neal supposed, Peter should pull his head out of his ass and stop wallowing in guilt, which wasn’t going to help either of them.
“The next major strength,” Tim said, “is that Neal’s sensory issues are not particularly exotic or complicated, with one possible exception. There are some Sentinels who have a great deal of trouble gaining control over their senses, regardless of the type or quality of instruction and Guidance they receive. There are no signs that Neal is one of them. Some of the visual distortions you’ve described sound…atypical,” he added, looking right at Neal.
“Which ones?” Neal asked.
“That’s something we’re going to have a Sen-med ophthalmologist look into further. I’m not certain, and Dr. Michaels isn’t certain either, if what you described just sounds unusual because of the specific metaphors you used, or if you’re actually seeing something other Sentinels don’t. The changes in the apparent size of objects and the phenomenon you describe as, ‘the Pointillism one’ are fairly standard. The ‘Cubist one’ and the ‘Dali-esque one,’ we’re not sure about.”
“Dali’s the melting clocks, right?” Michelle asked.
Neal winced. “Yes, that was his greatest hit. In most of his paintings, objects are stretched, bent, or distorted in ways that do not occur in nature.”
“I’ve never seen anything I would describe that way,” Michelle said. “But it could be a known phenomenon that’s described some other way in the literature. And Cubism-I had to look that up, and the definition I found said, ‘objects are broken up, analyzed, and reassembled in an abstracted form…depicts the subject from a multitude of viewpoints.’ Is that what you were referring to?”
“Yes.” What else would he be referring to?
“I’ve also never had that,” Michelle said. “But again, there’s a lot of variation from one Sentinel to another, and it could be it’s not that unusual. We’ll find out. The last major strength to discuss is that when identifying the central problems in your partnership, you both expressed a great deal of concern for the other’s needs and feelings. Those areas are also a site of substantial miscommunication, which we’ll get to when we start talking about weaknesses, but you’re both thinking about each other, and that’s good.”
Neither of them was a self-absorbed sociopath, check.
“Now,” Tim said, getting up and moving toward the flip chart, “before we start talking about the areas for improvement, I’d like you both to take a look at what you’ve each identified as the most significant problems in the partnership.”
Neal knew he wasn’t going to like that flip chart.
His side was all right. It listed, “1. Peter doesn’t want to be a Guide (blackmail thing); 2. Peter doesn’t know how to be a Guide; 3. Peter ‘way too guilty’ (marriage balance concerns); 4. Finances (rights of incarcerated Sentinels?).”
He hadn’t realized that “finances” was going to make the list of major problems, but he supposed he had talked about it a lot.
Peter’s list, on the other hand, was…much longer. Neal’s first thought on seeing it was, Holy shit, this is worse than I thought. When he started reading, though, he realized that most of the things on it he did know about. The first item was, “Neal thinks I hate him and he ruined my life.” They’d dealt with that, hadn’t they?
About half the rest of the items started with “Neal thinks.” Apparently, he thought that Peter didn’t care how much he suffered; that Peter didn’t care if he went back to prison; that Peter didn’t care about any of his problems, really; and that their Sentinel-Guide relationship was essentially fraudulent. Additionally, he didn’t think that he deserved a decent Guide; that he had any rights worth mentioning; that he could ask Peter for help; or that he was a good Sentinel.
Most of the rest, Neal pretty much agreed with. Peter not having any training in being a Guide was on there-that was one of his, too. Peter had also noted that maybe Neal’s Sentinel training wasn’t as good as it should be, either, which Neal hadn’t thought of, but maybe it was. Ketner had clearly overlooked a lot; it was entirely possible he wasn’t particularly good at the things he was doing. “Bureau expects too much of Neal”-well, he wasn’t sure exactly what Peter meant by that, but he did feel some pressure to learn quickly so he could start earning his keep. Another five or six items covered the issue of Peter’s lack of training and experience as a Guide, in terms ranging from, “Peter worst Guide in universe” to “Peter not confident in skills as a Guide.” Neal supposed they indicated shades of meaning that were important to either Peter or Michelle, but as far as he was concerned, they were really all the same thing.
“Okay,” Neal said slowly.
“What’s this about my marriage?” Peter asked. “There’s nothing wrong with my marriage.”
“Not now there isn’t,” Neal said.
“Neal’s concerned that being his Guide will put strain on your marriage,” Tim explained.
“That’s not something you need to worry about,” Peter said. “El and I will work that out.”
Tim and Michelle exchanged significant looks. Michelle apparently won-or lost; Neal wasn’t sure. She was the one that took up the issue, anyway. “It’s normal and appropriate for a Sentinel to be concerned about his Guide’s general well-being, and your marriage is part of that. I can understand why, under the circumstances, that concern may seem invasive or unseemly, but it’s pretty much part of the Sentinel package. The two of you will have some decisions to make about appropriate interpersonal boundaries, but Sentinels are generally protective of their Guides, and if the Guide has a family, that extends to them as well. If that’s unacceptable to you, then that’s a very significant issue that will have to be resolved one way or another.”
Peter listened to the speech with a slightly confused look on his face. “Oh. That’s…not what I meant. Neal’s met Elizabeth; they get along. It’s not like that.”
“Not like what?” Michelle asked.
Peter glanced over at Neal. “Do I have to say it?”
“Yes,” said Tim.
“Not like ‘I don’t want the convict talking about my wife.’ You didn’t think I was saying that, did you?”
Neal shook his head.
“No, I just meant, Neal’s got enough problems of his own to worry about.”
“Okay,” Tim said. “That’s something we can get into in more depth later. In general, the kind of issues that arise with balancing a marriage with a Sentinel-Guide partnership are usually best resolved if everybody involved is part of the same conversation, and that is something we’re going to pick up again later, but I don’t think it’s the most pressing issue. The most pressing issue, or one of the big two, anyway, is communication. What just happened here is that a point of conflict came up, and we started discussing it without making sure that everyone was looking at the same problem. From looking at these lists--” Tim pointed to the flip chart “-I’m getting the impression that happens a lot. You’re both operating under a lot of assumptions about what the other one feels or thinks is a problem, and you’re close enough that you probably think you’re talking about the same things, but when Michelle and I put our heads together, it became pretty clear that you aren’t.”
Neal wasn’t sure that was the most pressing issue-Peter not wanting to be his Guide in the first place was still bigger-but he could see it. Peter’s long list of Things Neal Thinks was testimony to that. “So what do we do?”
“Counseling,” Tim said promptly. “You’re going to work on discussing these issues--” chart again “-in the same room, and you’re also going to learn some strategies for dealing with new problems as they come up. The specific issues here are a little unusual, but it’s a very common problem, especially in-forgive the essentialism-male/male pairs. You don’t want to talk about things at all, or if you do you want to skip straight to resolving the issue, so you never really understand each other.”
“Funny,” Peter said. “Our marriage counselor said the same thing.”
“Good, then you already have some practice,” Tim said.
“I’m not objecting,” Peter said, “but how is that going to help Neal with his senses?”
“It’s going to help because he’ll have a better relationship with his Guide,” Michelle said. “And that’s very important. There needs to be a certain level of trust and intimacy, even in a purely working relationship.”
Peter glanced over at him. “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay,” Tim said. “The other major issue is, of course, Peter’s Guide skills.”
“Or lack thereof,” Peter added.
“Yes. We already have some pretty good ideas of what you’re doing wrong, and we think Neal’s control over his senses is going to improve dramatically once a few basic things are addressed. That said, there’s a lot more to learn after those few basic things, so the other component of the treatment plan is education. That’ll mostly be sensory lab exercises-like you’ve been doing in the lessons with, ah, Mr. Ketner, but now you’ll both be working, with Peter learning what he should be doing while Neal’s doing sensory work. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Neal said.
“I don’t want to push Neal as hard as we’ve been doing in the lessons with Ketner,” Peter said.
“The instructors will work with both of you on a pace that you’re both comfortable with,” Michelle said. “I think they’re likely to want to start over at the beginning, with linking and dials, so a lot of it will be review for Neal.”
“Good,” Peter said.
Tim flipped over the chart to another page, this one headed, ‘Treatment plan.’ He summarized, “The two priorities are counseling and education. We’re also going to have an ophthalmologist look into the visual distortions, and at some point do some work on work-life balance issues, which we’ll want to get Elizabeth involved in as well. Finally.” He tapped the last bullet point on the list. “You both indicated that there are some legal irregularities in your situation, but that addressing them would probably be counterproductive. You’re, unfortunately, probably right, but we do have a legal team, and they’re already researching the rights of incarcerated Sentinels, so you might as well meet with them and talk about what they find out. The rights of UnRegistered Guides has been a priority issue for us for a while, so they can easily address that, too. Meeting with them doesn’t mean you have to sue anybody or take any legal action; you can just find out about your rights and options, and if you still believe the best option is to do nothing on that front, that’s fine.”
“Okay,” Peter said. “I’m kind of hoping Neal’s wrong about the rights of incarcerated Sentinels.”
“I’m not.” Hoping, he meant. Neal agreed that it would be nice if he was wrong, but he wasn't wrong.
“Well, let’s have a lawyer of the non-jailhouse variety look into it, okay?”
“As long as I’m not responsible for their billable hours,” Neal said. “Speaking of, all this stuff you want us to do, who’s going to pay for it, and how long is it going to take?”
“Good questions,” Tim said. “What we’d like to suggest is that you plan on spending half-days here for a month.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Neal had expected that Michelle and Tim would want to see them a few more times, but surely they could do that during the time they were scheduled to be out here, and pick up with someone else back in New York.
“I think that’s doable,” Peter said. “The Bureau-well, Sandburg said you could take care of the Bureau?”
“Yes,” Michelle said. “That’s not likely to be a problem. And if you’re doing half-days here, you’ll have half-days to keep working on the matter they sent you out here for. A lot of it doesn’t involve sensory work, is that correct?”
“Yes,” Peter said. “And we can wait to do the authentifications later, or you can do them without using your senses,” he added to Neal.
“Well, yeah.” He hadn’t been too concerned about what the Bureau might have to say about their one-week assignment to Cascade stretching to a month. “But you can’t just abandon your life for a month.”
“I abandoned my life for a month to trail you across Eastern Europe,” Peter said. “And for three weeks for the New Orleans fiasco. And Milan, and Copenhagen.”
“Don’t forget Bordeaux,” Neal added.
“That was you in Bordeaux?”
“No.” Peter hadn’t known that was him? That was one of his best jobs.
Peter shook his head. “Anyway, a month is fine. If there’s some time Elizabeth’s not busy, she can come out; it’ll be like a vacation.”
Some vacation. Neal wondered if Peter would agree to separate rooms then.
“As for payment,” Michelle continued, “we expect to be able to bill the FBI for everything except the legal consultation, which we can handle under another budget line. If they aren’t interested in paying, we’ll cover your services some other way. As it happens, issues affecting incarcerated and formerly incarcerated Sentinels are about to become an institutional priority. As of, oh, yesterday. We’ll be getting grants.”
Peter and Neal exchanged a look. “Sandburg has that much pull around here? I didn’t think he was that big of a deal.”
“In his own right, he’s only a moderately-sized deal,” Tim said. “He’s very highly respected in both academic and working Guide circles. But-well, does the name ‘Naomi Sandburg’ mean anything to you?”
“Not a thing,” Neal said. “A relative?” Maybe they had a building named after her or something-although why, in that case, Blair would have gone to college on a scholarship, he wasn’t sure.
“She was-well, still is-a prominent figure in the second wave of the Guide civil rights movement,” Tim explained. “She started out as a draft resister-the Sentinel/Guide draft was over by then, but women Sentinels and Guides were included in the general draft, along with all men-but her main contributions were in the area of Guides’ rights to personal and financial independence from Sentinels. If you’re reading a really basic capsule history, you’ll see her name mentioned as the reason Guides can have jobs as anything other than Guides, marry without their Sentinels’ permission, and receive their own paychecks. The reality is a little more complex than that, of course, but she’s a very big deal, and as a result, ‘Sandburg’ is a name to conjure with around here.”
“And if that weren’t enough, he and his Sentinel make up half the board of directors of the Ellison Foundation-that, you probably haven’t heard of, but it’s a major donor of the University, this clinic, and half the rest of Cascade.”
“Oh,” Neal said. “Ellison’s that Sentinel?” He’d have been way more scared of him if he’d known that.
“What Sentinel?” Peter asked suspiciously.
“The one that nobody ever robs the museum here because of,” Neal explained. “They have this set of ceremonial regalia from the Temple of the Sentinels in Peru-solid gold, probably worth over a million dollars melted down.”
“Melted down?” Now Tim sounded outraged.
“And God only knows how much to the right collector,” Neal added. “Nobody would melt it down. And the security on it is a joke-a child could walk away with it. A blind child in a wheelchair could roll away with it. Only nobody has, and the rumor is that it’s because of a curse.”
“A curse,” Peter said. “Never mind, you know, keep on believing in that curse.”
“A curse where if you even think about stealing it, you get chased off by wild animals nobody else can see,” Neal added. “Now, Kate always thought that, if the curse exists, we’re probably the only museum-theft team in the world that could get past it. Being a Sentinel and a Guide ourselves, the artifacts probably wouldn’t mind if we took them. But we did a little research into it, and found out that Cascade has a Sentinel on the police force, who would almost certainly be the one assigned to investigate such a theft. And his family’s foundation underwrote both the museum and the expedition that found the artifacts, back in the nineties. And his Guide was part of the expedition. And at that point I realized that if I stole the stuff, I would wish for a curse, because he’d probably hunt me down and kill me.”
“Good choice,” Peter said.
“Anyway,” Neal said, “a month is too long for us to stay here.”
“How long do you think all of these things ought to take?” Tim gestured toward the flip chart.
“Less than that.”
“Hm,” Tim said.
“I’m sure you can come up with enough to do to fill that much time, but it’s not necessary. We don’t need that much help,” Neal clarified. Like having his eyes examined-who cared if his visual distortions were normal or not? What difference would it make if they weren’t?
“I think we need as much help as we can get,” Peter said.
“Yeah, well.” He stopped short of pointing out that Peter didn’t really know anything about it; the point was for Peter to feel less guilty, not more.
“Look,” Peter said. “I know you’re-” He stopped and looked at the flip chart. “Is this about thinking a month is too long for me to be away from home, or is there some other problem I’m not seeing?”
“No, that’s pretty much it,” Neal said. He supposed he could make some other objection, like that June might rent out his apartment to someone else if he wasn’t using it, but if Peter bought it, which was unlikely, Tim and Michelle would probably just suggest that they set their crack legal team on researching Manhattan landlord-tenant law or something. “And it is too long.”
“As Peter has mentioned,” Tim said, “and as you agreed, Peter’s job regularly takes him away from home for fairly long periods. What’s different about this?”
“It just is.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not really his job! Putting me in prison is his job. Making sure I’m…happy isn’t.”
“Not making you happy, no,” Tim said. “But making sure that you aren’t in sensory distress, and working toward a healthy, trusting relationship, is. He’s your Guide.”
“He’s not supposed to be my Guide.”
“But I am,” Peter pointed out.
“Because you don’t have any choice.”
Michelle held up one hand. “Hold on a second.” She turned to Tim. “Plan B?”
He winced, but nodded. “Yeah, let’s talk about plan B. If this,” he indicated the chart, “isn’t acceptable, or either of you is unwilling to work on these issues, then for you to continue is Sentinel and Guide is not going to work out. And we have several ideas for how we can make that happen.”
Peter started to say, “That’s--”
“Let’s hear ‘em,” Neal interrupted.
“First,” Michelle said, “we understand that Neal has to have an FBI agent supervising his work release, and he has to have a Guide. Is it absolutely necessary that they both be the same person?”
Somehow, Neal hadn’t thought of it that way. “That’s a good question.”
“That’s how the Bureau wants it,” Peter said.
“There’s certainly a case to be made that their preference for that arrangement stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of how Sentinel-Guide relationships work,” Tim suggested. “If they are under the impression that being Neal’s Guide will somehow make it easier for Peter to exercise his functions as-what do you call it? ‘Handler’-they’re wrong.”
Michelle continued, “And if the objection is financial, that they would prefer not to pay a Guide, there are ways around that problem. We do have a number of semi-retired Guides on file who are willing to take short-term pro bono assignments, and we also have students doing internships. Neither of those would be ideal, but over the longer term, we can work either on funding the position through a grant or on compelling the FBI to meet its moral obligation to fund it themselves.”
“And what about the part where either of us rocking the boat is likely to end up with me back in prison and Peter out of a job?”
“We rock it for you,” Tim said. “Making it clear to the FBI, the prison system, and whoever else is involved that both of you are cooperating fully, but that the situation isn’t workable. Legal will have to weigh in on whether it would be better to argue that the roles of Guide and Handler are fundamentally incompatible, or more simply to say that in the Clinic’s professional assessment, Peter isn’t a compatible Guide for Neal.”
“Which would be completely truthful,” Michelle added, “in that a healthy Sentinel-Guide partnership is impossible if either party feels coerced. The FBI is likely to think that we mean something more esoteric-Sentinel-Guide compatibility is a confusing issue to most mundanes.”
“But we’re not responsible for their misunderstanding,” Tim finished.
“In that scenario,” Michelle added, “Peter could certainly continue as handler, and it might be beneficial for him to have some continuing education so that he could function as a backup Guide if necessary, but that would be a much less demanding role for Peter.”
It should have sounded like a perfect solution. If it worked out exactly the way Michelle said-Neal had his doubts that it would, but if it did-he’d still be working with Peter, which would be nice, but he’d have somebody else for all of the hand-holding that Peter didn’t want to do. Instead, Neal thought that…well, he wasn’t sure what he thought, but he didn’t like it. “Why didn’t you tell us that in the first place?”
Michelle and Tim shared another look. “Because while each of you mentioned strong concerns that the other had been forced into this partnership and saw no acceptable alternative to continuing it, neither of you indicated that you actually feel that way,” Tim said. “So we think that this perceived problem is actually one of your communication issues, and not an issue of fundamental incompatibility. We wanted to focus on logistical issues today-figuring out the treatment plan-and raise this issue later in therapy, when we’re in a position to explore it more fully.”
“But if we’re wrong,” Michelle added, “and either of you does want out of this partnership, then the treatment plan is inappropriate and we should instead focus on finding a way to make that happen without negative repercussions. If we can’t make that happen, we can always come back to a scaled-down version of the treatment plan as Plan C. So-what do you want to do? Keeping in mind that we’re talking about your own preferences here, not what you think the other person wants.”
“Can we skip straight to plan C?” Neal asked. That sounded like it was pretty much what he wanted.
“No,” said Tim.
“I’m-I need to talk to Elizabeth,” Peter said. “We don’t make major life decisions without each other. But we already talked about it when the Bureau first asked, and we agreed that if I really didn’t want to, or she really didn’t want me to, I’d tell the Bureau I wouldn’t do it, and let the chips fall where they may. We decided to go ahead with it. It wasn’t my first choice, but, apart from being really bad at it, it’s been…I’m fine. I want to see this through.”
“You want to keep being Neal’s Guide?” Michelle asked.
“Yes. Assuming El’s still okay with it. I think she is, but I’ll have to ask her.”
If Elizabeth had any sense, she’d tell Peter he was insane and to take the deal.
“What about you, Neal?” Tim asked.
“What about me? This was my idea in the first place. Nobody tricked me into it.”
“Nobody tricked me into it, either,” Peter said. “And it was your idea when you didn’t have any options other than prison and catatonia.”
“I had other options.” Neal wasn’t sure what they were, exactly, but he was sure he could have thought of something. “I wouldn’t have asked for this if I didn’t want Peter to be my Guide.”
“And have you changed your mind?” Tim asked.
“No, but Peter--”
“Is able to make his own decisions,” Tim interrupted.
That wasn’t something Neal could really argue with. Hell, it was his whole point-that Peter shouldn’t be stuck being his Guide when he didn’t want to. If Peter claimed he wanted to, there wasn’t much Neal could do about it-he didn’t know much about being a Sentinel, but he did know there were sound historical reasons that arguing that Peter should be overruled in his own best interests would go over about as well as if Neal suggested they forget the whole thing and go rob the Rainier Museum.
“All right,” said Peter. “Then we’ll move forward with this.” Now he pointed at the flip chart.
“If Elizabeth agrees,” Neal said. She, at least, could tell Peter he was being a self-sacrificing idiot.
This one, I have some misgivings about. As you might guess from the last part, this one deals with Neal and Peter's appointment at the Rainier Sentinel-Guide Clinic, and there's a lot of it. I think it was necessary for me to write this much, so I could figure out Peter and Neal's issues and what to do about them. But "send your characters to therapy!" scenes are rarely as amusing for readers as their authors think they are, so I'd like to hear what parts of this folks think are necessary and/or entertaining, and what could be cut, or summarized instead of shown in detail.
Also, readers of the Dreaded Bonding AU might recognize the OC's. (And it's not Kas and Angel--oddly, I didn't even think of that until just now.)
After spending a little more time in the lab-Neal stuck to the magnifying glass this time-they returned to the warehouse to open more crates. Even putting yesterday’s revelations aside, this was really a fun assignment. It was like Christmas morning, a different present inside every box.
Okay, so he didn’t get to keep any of them, but opening was always the best part, anyway. Getting to do something he was really good at was much better than sitting in the surveillance van or squinting over spreadsheets.
At mid-day, they went to lunch with Blair and Ellison-Neal suspected that Blair wanted to make sure he was being allowed to eat-and learned a little more about their story. As it turned out, Ellison hadn’t been using his senses since before Neal was born, only for about fifteen years. He’d been latent for most of the time until then, apart from something Ellison referred to as, “That time in Peru,” without elaboration. He had been in the military, but not as a Sentinel, and had already been working as a cop when his senses emerged. He had tried to hide them-Ellison claimed he didn’t know why; Sandburg said something about “fear-based responses”-until he met Blair while investigating the warehouse explosion he’d mentioned the day before.
Sandburg, for his part, had been what he called “openly UnRegistered.” There was a box on the form, apparently, that you could check to indicate that you were a Sentinel or Guide and chose not to Register. If you checked that box, instead of lying like Peter had, you couldn’t be compelled to be tested, or called into service if the Sentinel-Guide draft was reinstated, but you were ineligible for a lot of jobs, for government financial aid, and a number of other things. (Peter gloomily mentioned, when Blair explained this, that his Harvard scholarship had been fraudulent for that reason.) Rainier University had, according to Blair, been a center of the Guide civil rights movement in the sixties, and offered privately-funded scholarships for UnRegistered Guides. Blair had gone to college and graduate school on one of those. Since he’d never lied, switching over to Registered status when he started working with Ellison had been straightforward.
On paper, at least. From some of the things he said, Neal gathered that at that time, Blair’s distrust of the government had rivaled that of Neal’s old friend Mozzie. “There was wailing and gnashing of teeth,” Blair said. “Accusations of selling out, the whole thing. My own mother accused me of becoming a jackbooted thug.” He shrugged. “Back then, the plan was that I was going to study Sentinels, not have one of my own-but when I met Jim, that changed. I became a full-time police Guide and a part-time academic, and that’s pretty much how it’s been for the last fifteen years or so.”
“Could you have done it the other way around?” Peter wondered. “Been a part-time Guide and full-time academic?”
“Me?” Blair said. “No. But if what you’re really asking is if you can be a good Guide and still be everything else that you are…?”
“I was wondering,” Peter admitted.
“There’s some kind of balance to be found,” Blair told him. “I’m not sure exactly what it’ll look like, but the idea that Guides don’t have lives other than their Sentinels went out with compulsory service. Is this how you usually work? I mean, are you two usually together while you’re investigating?”
“Pretty much,” Peter said. “Neal usually goes with me when I’m out in the field, and if Neal’s in the field, I’m always with him. In the office, we’re not joined at the hip, but I’m nearby. And--” he looked over at Neal. “You can always come to my office if you need to-you know that, right?”
“Yep,” Neal said. It was possible he should have been taking advantage of that option a little more often that he did, but he’d never thought Peter would kick him out if he came asking.
Peter nodded. “Good. There are a few meetings Neal can’t come to, upper-level stuff, but that really only amounts to a couple of hours a week.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Neal added, “it’s probably not even that I need more time. Usually, when I have a problem, you’re there, you’re just not….”
“Doing anything?” Peter suggested.
“Yeah. Once you get some education, you’ll be able to help more in less time.”
“I don’t know about that,” Blair said. “I’m getting into the half-assed advice I said I wasn’t going to do, but I get the impression Peter’s not giving you much attention. There’s more to being a Guide than being in the same room as a Sentinel.”
“I’m getting that,” Peter said. “You’re going to get what you need, Neal. More time, more attention, whatever you need.”
Neal decided not to point out that Peter was just saying that because he felt guilty. He probably believed it was true, now. But if Neal started acting like he thought it was true that he could monopolize Peter’s attention, Peter would end up hating him again. Instead he just said, “Okay.”
After lunch, they returned to the warehouse for another hour, until it was time for Neal and Peter’s appointment at Rainier. Neal wondered if Blair and Ellison were going to tag along, but after giving Peter a very explicit set of directions, including a hand-drawn map, they set out on their own.
From the word “clinic,” Neal had formed a mental picture of something low-budget and medical, possibly involving linoleum, wailing children, and the pervasive smell of antiseptic, but the Rainier Sentinel-Guide Clinic proved to be a structure designed to resemble a large house, with bamboo floors and lots of clean lines. The air inside was…fresh. Not completely inert like a clean room-and the place didn’t have that oddly-muffled sound, either-but very subtle and pleasant.
He supposed that made sense.
Almost the first thing the clinic staff did when they arrived was separate them. Neal was escorted into an office by a Guide named Tim Miller, while Peter was taken in the other direction by his Sentinel partner. Neal wondered what Blair had told them about him and Peter, and if he was about to be asked to point to where Peter had hurt him on an anatomically correct doll.
Instead, Tim invited him to sit down on a sofa and chatted about his background for a while. He was a psychologist, as well as a Guide. He was in a committed partnership with Michelle, the Sentinel Peter was talking to, but they were unbounded because being able to link with other Sentinels and Guides was necessary for their jobs. “Sentinels sometimes feel uncomfortable linking with another Sentinel’s Guide, but it’s something we do all the time in our work-if we weren’t comfortable with it, we’d do research or administration instead of hands-on counseling. It’s-well, Michelle sometimes tells Sentinels she doesn’t mind me linking with other Sentinels any more than a gynecologist’s wife minds him seeing other women naked.”
Neal wouldn’t have thought of it as something that could be a problem, if Tim hadn’t brought it up, but just said, “Okay.”
“If you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to try a link now.”
Neal agreed and held out his hand. Tim put his wrist in his hand-opposite of the way he and Peter did it-and Neal started concentrating on making the link.
He didn’t have to. Almost as soon as he “reached” out, Tim made contact and they were linked. “That was easy,” Neal said.
“It’s usually not?” Tim asked.
“No. Peter’s kind of…I don’t know. I have to try to find a way in.”
Neal suspected that if he’d said something like that to Blair, it would have provoked another one of those outraged squawks, but Tim just said, “That’s something we can work on.”
He had Neal do a few very simple sensory tests, similar to what Ketner had tried on their first lesson. Neal knew what he was doing now, and got through them easily. After Neal finished reading about the quick brown fox in Braille, Tim asked him where all of his dials were, and, when Neal said they were all at five, told him, “You can release the link whenever you’re ready.”
Neal let go of his wrist, holding himself still for a moment as he checked that his senses were still normal.
“Are you all right?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes after Peter breaks a link, things get a little weird for a minute or two.” Or a lot longer than a minute, if he’d been overworking himself like he had yesterday. “But it’s fine now.”
“Good.”
They talked for a while about what usually happened when Neal used his senses. Based on Blair’s antics yesterday, Neal was prepared for Tim to freak out and start hurling verbal abuse in Peter’s direction, but he was reassuringly matter of fact, saying things like, “I see,” and “that sounds a bit more severe than average.”
Next, Tim went on to ask Neal some questions about where he lived, how he slept, what he ate. Neal didn’t have problems with any of those things-except eating after he’d had a sensory episode-but he supposed Tim couldn’t be sure of that unless he asked about everything. Neal talked about his apartment, about the trials of eating on two hundred dollars a month in New York, about June, Cyndi, and Bugsy the pug.
“Is there anyone else in the household?”
“A housekeeper, Fern, but her apartment’s over the garage-detached garage. She’s nice, too. She doesn’t wait on me,” he added, “or clean my apartment or anything, just June and Cyndi’s part of the house. Oh, and my friend Mozzie doesn’t live there, but he’s over a lot. Sometimes he spends the night.”
“Ah. Boyfriend?”
“Nooooooo,” Neal said. “Friend. Regular friend. He just…his living situation is a little weird.” He decided not to try to explain about Moz’s storage unit and his network of safe houses, or how he didn’t like to sleep under the same roof two nights in a row. “He usually brings over a bottle or two of wine, which is nice because of the money thing, and if he wants to stay, he fits on the couch. He’s short.”
Tim smiled. “Okay. So that’s pretty much your social support network right now?”
“I guess.”
“Is there anyone else significant in your life now? Other than Peter and the rest of the people at work?”
“Right now? No.” There was Kate, and some other friends he’d lost touch with, but nobody he could get in touch with even if he wanted to. “But Moz and June are great-really supportive friends-and Cyndi and Fern are around if I don’t feel like being alone.”
“All right, then. So everything’s pretty much fine medically, and with your home and social lives, apart from the financial issues. The next topic is work.”
Neal nodded and grinned. “Yeah, work is a little more complicated. How much background did you get on that?”
“I’ve seen your criminal record and your work-release contract with the FBI. The FBI pursued you for years, and now you work with the same people that put you in prison. Is that stressful? Working for the enemy?”
“They’re not the enemy,” Neal said. “More like the…opposing team. They play by the rules. The enemy’s…other criminals. Bad criminals. The Mob, Russian Mob, some of the scarier independents. You cross them, they’ll kill you, hurt the people you care about. All the Feds’ll do is arrest you. I never thought they were bad people.” He grinned. “Of course, I don’t think I’m a bad person, either.”
“Do your colleagues at the FBI think you’re a bad person?”
“Some of them.”
“Does Peter?”
“I never asked.”
“What do you think he’d say if you did?”
“I think…he’d say that we live in a society that has laws, and I broke them, so I have to live with the consequences.” Neal could hear him saying it; he could practically do that lecture in his sleep.
“That’s not an answer,” Tim noted.
“No, it’s not. I think if I asked, he’d dodge the question. If you really pressed him on it, he’d say I made bad choices, did bad things. I don’t think he’d come right out and say I was a bad person, but he wouldn’t say I’m a good one, either.” And that was okay. In Neal’s world, he was a good person: he didn’t hurt people, stood by his friends, and didn’t double-cross anyone he was doing a job with. Peter’s world had different standards.
“Does that bother you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. Well, the blackmail thing bothers me a little bit. Do you know about that?”
“No.”
Neal explained how when he proposed the work release arrangement, Peter had thought it was a blackmail attempt. “I hope that now that he knows me better, he understands I wouldn’t do that. I’m not really sure. But that’s…one of our problems. After he went to the FBI and told them everything, they basically said he could keep his job if he did this, became my Guide. I know, they’re not actually allowed to do that, force him to work as a Guide. I’m sure they said it in some way that if he tried to drag it into the open, they’d say that wasn’t what they meant. It would be worse for me than for him if he refused to do it, but he’s kind of boxed in, too.”
“I can see how that’s a problem. You said one of your problems-what are the others?”
“Until yesterday, I thought that was the biggest one-Peter doesn’t want to be my Guide. Or anybody’s Guide, really. But we learned yesterday that most of my…at least practical problems, the ones where I’m huddled in a corner trying not to throw up, have more to do with him not knowing how to be a Guide. And that’s fixable. He’s willing to learn-this isn’t a job he wanted, but he’s not going to intentionally do it badly; he’s not like that.”
“Like what?”
Neal shrugged. “Lazy? Vindictive? I don’t know. He cares about me, even likes me-he said so-but even if he didn’t, he’d do the job. I don’t have any doubts about that.”
“Good,” Tim said. “So those are the two biggest problems?” Neal nodded. “Any others?”
“Well, he’s married,” Neal said. “Blair says that’s manageable. But I…this can’t screw up his marriage.”
“How do you mean?”
“He works a lot. Even before this-me. That’s hard on a relationship. Right now, he’s saying he’ll do whatever it takes to be a better Guide, but if that means he’s not home as much, he’s not doing what he needs to do with his wife…that’s going to end badly.”
“Badly for who?”
“Everybody. She says it’s him or me, he sends me back to prison and loses his job; I’m miserable, they’re unhappy and poor. She packs her bags and leaves; he’s unhappy and resents me. She’s probably unhappy too, in that scenario. They stay married and fight all the time; they’re still both unhappy and Peter still resents me. If I had to pick, I’d go with one of the ones where I’m not in prison and have a Guide that hates me, but I’m not crazy about any of the options.”
“Are those the only options?”
“No-the good option is that we don’t let him pull that ‘whatever it takes’ shit, and make sure whatever we work out doesn’t interfere with his marriage. If that means it’s not absolutely ideal from my end, that’s fine. I’m already miles above what I’m legally entitled to-you know that if you read the case law-and I’m sure we can do even better with some minor adjustments.”
“I see,” Tim said.
“I’ve been working with him for a few months now, and he chased me for four years. I know how he gets-when he’s close to a big break in an important case, he forgets everything else-doesn’t go home, doesn’t call, forgets their anniversary, the whole sitcom bad husband routine. And then either he closes the case or the lead dries up, and he goes back to being a good husband again. I guess Elizabeth’s used to that. But he’s going to want to handle this the same way; I know he is. Thing is, that has to work out for three and a half years. That’s not forever, but it’s not short-term, either.”
“You seem to have given Peter’s marriage a lot of thought.”
Neal shrugged. “If you’re running a long con-and I’m very good at running long cons-you have to be able to see problems before they happen. This isn’t a con, but the principle’s the same.” Peter’s marriage-Peter’s feelings in general-was an aspect he hadn’t thought through when he first came up with the anklet plan. He wasn’t going to keep making that mistake. “He feels much guiltier about this than he should-Sandburg was pretty rough on him yesterday. He needs to get over that, and then we’ll be able to figure out something that’ll work for the rest of my sentence.” He nodded firmly.
After asking a few more questions to find out if there were any more problems Neal hadn’t thought of, Tim said, “All right. The next thing you’re scheduled for is a physical-I don’t think there are any medical problems involved in all this, but we like to be thorough. Is that okay?”
Neal nodded. “Sure. I just had one, for the Bureau, but I don’t mind.”
“Good. While you’re doing that, Michelle and I will compare notes, and then all four of us will sit down together. Is there anything we’ve talked about here that you want to stay just between us?”
Neal thought it over. “Mozzie. Peter knows he exists, but I don’t think he knows quite how much time he’s spending over at my place. I’m not really supposed to be associating with known felons outside work.”
Tim nodded. “Okay. I don’t think that was likely to come up anyway, but I’ll make sure I don’t mention it. Anything else?” He reviewed some of the main points of their conversation, and Neal agreed that it was all okay to tell Peter about. He wasn’t thrilled about dragging the question of whether or not Peter thought he was a bad person into the open, but he did want to find out where they stood on the blackmail issue, so he supposed Tim could mention it if he had to.
Peter’s session had finished, too, so Neal got to have him with him for his physical. Tim directed them to the medical office, in another part of the building, and they set off. “How’d it go?” Neal asked as they walked.
“Fine. Yours?”
“Fine.”
“The guy they had you talking to, he was good?”
Neal nodded. “He didn’t get as excited about it as Blair.”
“Hm.”
The physical was pretty normal, except that the doctor spent a lot of time explaining what he was doing and why, including very basic things like, “I’m going to use this stethoscope to listen to your heart and lungs.” Neal wondered if they thought he’d never been to a doctor before, or if maybe they assumed he’d been raped in prison and would be jumpy about having a strange man touch him. He decided not to ask. He did finally protest, though, when the doctor said he needed to draw some blood for lab tests, and suggested that Neal might want to link with Peter for it.
“Why?” Neal asked as he rolled up his sleeve, thinking maybe there was some biochemical aspect to linking that would show up on the tests.
“Pain management,” the doctor said.
“Seriously? I think I can handle a blood draw without having my hand held.”
“It’s not a problem, Neal,” Peter said.
Neal just gave him a look of pure exasperation, and the doctor eventually drew the blood-which hurt, a little bit, for like a second.
The physical ended with another set of sensory tests. This time, the Braille was some lines from “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening” instead of the quick brown fox, which made a nice change. The doctor expressed the usual surprise that Neal could read Braille. “I have this friend who’s really into codes,” he explained, which was true, if a little misleading. The Braille lessons had actually been part of Mozzie’s Zen approach to safecracking.
After that, they met up with Tim and Michelle in a conference room between their two offices. At least, the sign next to the door said conference room; it was furnished more like a coffee house, with overstuffed couches in a conversation circle, and a sideboard with coffee, water, and juices. There was, however, a flip chart on an easel, currently closed. Neal wondered what that was about. Was this presentation going to have visual aids?
“How are you guys doing?” Michelle asked as they took seats.
Peter looked over at Neal. “Good,” he said. Being asked for an update on his personal well-being every ten minutes was starting to get old. “How about you?”
“I’m fine,” Peter said.
“The intake process can be a little overwhelming,” Tim said, “but this is the last part of what we’re going to do today.”
“We usually start by talking about strengths, and really, there are a lot to talk about,” Michelle continued. “I’m not sure exactly what Dr. Sandburg said to you, but….”
“We were expecting worse, to be honest,” Tim finished. “I understand yesterday afternoon was pretty rough, but Neal’s clearly bounced back pretty well, and that’s a good sign.”
Neal gave Peter a look. See?
“Neal’s also in generally good health, which is another good sign,” Michelle said. “There are some medical problems that can exacerbate sensory distress, which we always like to rule out, but more often, Sentinels in persistent sensory distress will start to develop medical problems as a result of stress, not being able to eat or sleep well, things like that. Based on both the medical findings and what the two of you have described, this is more like intermittent sensory distress, and while the individual episodes have been quite severe, overall functioning between episodes is good.”
“That also explains why your individual evaluations of the severity of the problem are…different,” Tim added. “Excuse me if I’m putting words in your mouths, but Neal’s perspective seems to be that the situation is unpleasant but generally bearable-is that about right?”
“Yes,” Neal said. “Very well stated.”
“While Peter’s is that this is a serious problem that should not have gone unaddressed for as long as it has.”
“Well stated,” Peter echoed.
“You’re both right,” Tim said. “The last few months have been rougher on Neal than they should have been, but he’s coped with them very well, and he’s not shattered by the experience. At the same time, the sensory issues, which we think stem from some basic errors in practice, are very unlikely to have gotten better on their own. If we were having this conversation three and a half years from now, and these errors had still not been addressed, we’d almost certainly be seeing a different picture medically, and in terms of sensory function, and probably psychologically as well. So it’s a very good thing that you’re here now, and we can count that as a strength too, that we’re addressing these things before they’ve reached catastrophic levels. Is everyone comfortable with that assessment?”
“I guess,” Neal said. It sounded like they were leaning more toward his “perspective” than Peter’s, anyway, which was good, since his was the right one.
“But it’s still pretty late,” Peter said. “I mean, these ‘basic errors’ are things I should have known about before I even picked him up from the prison.”
“Yes,” Michelle said. “There are some structural issues that played into that, and those are likely going to be high on this institution’s advocacy agenda in the near future. In terms of the two of you getting your partnership on track, though, those issues are…tangential.”
In other words, Neal supposed, Peter should pull his head out of his ass and stop wallowing in guilt, which wasn’t going to help either of them.
“The next major strength,” Tim said, “is that Neal’s sensory issues are not particularly exotic or complicated, with one possible exception. There are some Sentinels who have a great deal of trouble gaining control over their senses, regardless of the type or quality of instruction and Guidance they receive. There are no signs that Neal is one of them. Some of the visual distortions you’ve described sound…atypical,” he added, looking right at Neal.
“Which ones?” Neal asked.
“That’s something we’re going to have a Sen-med ophthalmologist look into further. I’m not certain, and Dr. Michaels isn’t certain either, if what you described just sounds unusual because of the specific metaphors you used, or if you’re actually seeing something other Sentinels don’t. The changes in the apparent size of objects and the phenomenon you describe as, ‘the Pointillism one’ are fairly standard. The ‘Cubist one’ and the ‘Dali-esque one,’ we’re not sure about.”
“Dali’s the melting clocks, right?” Michelle asked.
Neal winced. “Yes, that was his greatest hit. In most of his paintings, objects are stretched, bent, or distorted in ways that do not occur in nature.”
“I’ve never seen anything I would describe that way,” Michelle said. “But it could be a known phenomenon that’s described some other way in the literature. And Cubism-I had to look that up, and the definition I found said, ‘objects are broken up, analyzed, and reassembled in an abstracted form…depicts the subject from a multitude of viewpoints.’ Is that what you were referring to?”
“Yes.” What else would he be referring to?
“I’ve also never had that,” Michelle said. “But again, there’s a lot of variation from one Sentinel to another, and it could be it’s not that unusual. We’ll find out. The last major strength to discuss is that when identifying the central problems in your partnership, you both expressed a great deal of concern for the other’s needs and feelings. Those areas are also a site of substantial miscommunication, which we’ll get to when we start talking about weaknesses, but you’re both thinking about each other, and that’s good.”
Neither of them was a self-absorbed sociopath, check.
“Now,” Tim said, getting up and moving toward the flip chart, “before we start talking about the areas for improvement, I’d like you both to take a look at what you’ve each identified as the most significant problems in the partnership.”
Neal knew he wasn’t going to like that flip chart.
His side was all right. It listed, “1. Peter doesn’t want to be a Guide (blackmail thing); 2. Peter doesn’t know how to be a Guide; 3. Peter ‘way too guilty’ (marriage balance concerns); 4. Finances (rights of incarcerated Sentinels?).”
He hadn’t realized that “finances” was going to make the list of major problems, but he supposed he had talked about it a lot.
Peter’s list, on the other hand, was…much longer. Neal’s first thought on seeing it was, Holy shit, this is worse than I thought. When he started reading, though, he realized that most of the things on it he did know about. The first item was, “Neal thinks I hate him and he ruined my life.” They’d dealt with that, hadn’t they?
About half the rest of the items started with “Neal thinks.” Apparently, he thought that Peter didn’t care how much he suffered; that Peter didn’t care if he went back to prison; that Peter didn’t care about any of his problems, really; and that their Sentinel-Guide relationship was essentially fraudulent. Additionally, he didn’t think that he deserved a decent Guide; that he had any rights worth mentioning; that he could ask Peter for help; or that he was a good Sentinel.
Most of the rest, Neal pretty much agreed with. Peter not having any training in being a Guide was on there-that was one of his, too. Peter had also noted that maybe Neal’s Sentinel training wasn’t as good as it should be, either, which Neal hadn’t thought of, but maybe it was. Ketner had clearly overlooked a lot; it was entirely possible he wasn’t particularly good at the things he was doing. “Bureau expects too much of Neal”-well, he wasn’t sure exactly what Peter meant by that, but he did feel some pressure to learn quickly so he could start earning his keep. Another five or six items covered the issue of Peter’s lack of training and experience as a Guide, in terms ranging from, “Peter worst Guide in universe” to “Peter not confident in skills as a Guide.” Neal supposed they indicated shades of meaning that were important to either Peter or Michelle, but as far as he was concerned, they were really all the same thing.
“Okay,” Neal said slowly.
“What’s this about my marriage?” Peter asked. “There’s nothing wrong with my marriage.”
“Not now there isn’t,” Neal said.
“Neal’s concerned that being his Guide will put strain on your marriage,” Tim explained.
“That’s not something you need to worry about,” Peter said. “El and I will work that out.”
Tim and Michelle exchanged significant looks. Michelle apparently won-or lost; Neal wasn’t sure. She was the one that took up the issue, anyway. “It’s normal and appropriate for a Sentinel to be concerned about his Guide’s general well-being, and your marriage is part of that. I can understand why, under the circumstances, that concern may seem invasive or unseemly, but it’s pretty much part of the Sentinel package. The two of you will have some decisions to make about appropriate interpersonal boundaries, but Sentinels are generally protective of their Guides, and if the Guide has a family, that extends to them as well. If that’s unacceptable to you, then that’s a very significant issue that will have to be resolved one way or another.”
Peter listened to the speech with a slightly confused look on his face. “Oh. That’s…not what I meant. Neal’s met Elizabeth; they get along. It’s not like that.”
“Not like what?” Michelle asked.
Peter glanced over at Neal. “Do I have to say it?”
“Yes,” said Tim.
“Not like ‘I don’t want the convict talking about my wife.’ You didn’t think I was saying that, did you?”
Neal shook his head.
“No, I just meant, Neal’s got enough problems of his own to worry about.”
“Okay,” Tim said. “That’s something we can get into in more depth later. In general, the kind of issues that arise with balancing a marriage with a Sentinel-Guide partnership are usually best resolved if everybody involved is part of the same conversation, and that is something we’re going to pick up again later, but I don’t think it’s the most pressing issue. The most pressing issue, or one of the big two, anyway, is communication. What just happened here is that a point of conflict came up, and we started discussing it without making sure that everyone was looking at the same problem. From looking at these lists--” Tim pointed to the flip chart “-I’m getting the impression that happens a lot. You’re both operating under a lot of assumptions about what the other one feels or thinks is a problem, and you’re close enough that you probably think you’re talking about the same things, but when Michelle and I put our heads together, it became pretty clear that you aren’t.”
Neal wasn’t sure that was the most pressing issue-Peter not wanting to be his Guide in the first place was still bigger-but he could see it. Peter’s long list of Things Neal Thinks was testimony to that. “So what do we do?”
“Counseling,” Tim said promptly. “You’re going to work on discussing these issues--” chart again “-in the same room, and you’re also going to learn some strategies for dealing with new problems as they come up. The specific issues here are a little unusual, but it’s a very common problem, especially in-forgive the essentialism-male/male pairs. You don’t want to talk about things at all, or if you do you want to skip straight to resolving the issue, so you never really understand each other.”
“Funny,” Peter said. “Our marriage counselor said the same thing.”
“Good, then you already have some practice,” Tim said.
“I’m not objecting,” Peter said, “but how is that going to help Neal with his senses?”
“It’s going to help because he’ll have a better relationship with his Guide,” Michelle said. “And that’s very important. There needs to be a certain level of trust and intimacy, even in a purely working relationship.”
Peter glanced over at him. “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay,” Tim said. “The other major issue is, of course, Peter’s Guide skills.”
“Or lack thereof,” Peter added.
“Yes. We already have some pretty good ideas of what you’re doing wrong, and we think Neal’s control over his senses is going to improve dramatically once a few basic things are addressed. That said, there’s a lot more to learn after those few basic things, so the other component of the treatment plan is education. That’ll mostly be sensory lab exercises-like you’ve been doing in the lessons with, ah, Mr. Ketner, but now you’ll both be working, with Peter learning what he should be doing while Neal’s doing sensory work. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Neal said.
“I don’t want to push Neal as hard as we’ve been doing in the lessons with Ketner,” Peter said.
“The instructors will work with both of you on a pace that you’re both comfortable with,” Michelle said. “I think they’re likely to want to start over at the beginning, with linking and dials, so a lot of it will be review for Neal.”
“Good,” Peter said.
Tim flipped over the chart to another page, this one headed, ‘Treatment plan.’ He summarized, “The two priorities are counseling and education. We’re also going to have an ophthalmologist look into the visual distortions, and at some point do some work on work-life balance issues, which we’ll want to get Elizabeth involved in as well. Finally.” He tapped the last bullet point on the list. “You both indicated that there are some legal irregularities in your situation, but that addressing them would probably be counterproductive. You’re, unfortunately, probably right, but we do have a legal team, and they’re already researching the rights of incarcerated Sentinels, so you might as well meet with them and talk about what they find out. The rights of UnRegistered Guides has been a priority issue for us for a while, so they can easily address that, too. Meeting with them doesn’t mean you have to sue anybody or take any legal action; you can just find out about your rights and options, and if you still believe the best option is to do nothing on that front, that’s fine.”
“Okay,” Peter said. “I’m kind of hoping Neal’s wrong about the rights of incarcerated Sentinels.”
“I’m not.” Hoping, he meant. Neal agreed that it would be nice if he was wrong, but he wasn't wrong.
“Well, let’s have a lawyer of the non-jailhouse variety look into it, okay?”
“As long as I’m not responsible for their billable hours,” Neal said. “Speaking of, all this stuff you want us to do, who’s going to pay for it, and how long is it going to take?”
“Good questions,” Tim said. “What we’d like to suggest is that you plan on spending half-days here for a month.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Neal had expected that Michelle and Tim would want to see them a few more times, but surely they could do that during the time they were scheduled to be out here, and pick up with someone else back in New York.
“I think that’s doable,” Peter said. “The Bureau-well, Sandburg said you could take care of the Bureau?”
“Yes,” Michelle said. “That’s not likely to be a problem. And if you’re doing half-days here, you’ll have half-days to keep working on the matter they sent you out here for. A lot of it doesn’t involve sensory work, is that correct?”
“Yes,” Peter said. “And we can wait to do the authentifications later, or you can do them without using your senses,” he added to Neal.
“Well, yeah.” He hadn’t been too concerned about what the Bureau might have to say about their one-week assignment to Cascade stretching to a month. “But you can’t just abandon your life for a month.”
“I abandoned my life for a month to trail you across Eastern Europe,” Peter said. “And for three weeks for the New Orleans fiasco. And Milan, and Copenhagen.”
“Don’t forget Bordeaux,” Neal added.
“That was you in Bordeaux?”
“No.” Peter hadn’t known that was him? That was one of his best jobs.
Peter shook his head. “Anyway, a month is fine. If there’s some time Elizabeth’s not busy, she can come out; it’ll be like a vacation.”
Some vacation. Neal wondered if Peter would agree to separate rooms then.
“As for payment,” Michelle continued, “we expect to be able to bill the FBI for everything except the legal consultation, which we can handle under another budget line. If they aren’t interested in paying, we’ll cover your services some other way. As it happens, issues affecting incarcerated and formerly incarcerated Sentinels are about to become an institutional priority. As of, oh, yesterday. We’ll be getting grants.”
Peter and Neal exchanged a look. “Sandburg has that much pull around here? I didn’t think he was that big of a deal.”
“In his own right, he’s only a moderately-sized deal,” Tim said. “He’s very highly respected in both academic and working Guide circles. But-well, does the name ‘Naomi Sandburg’ mean anything to you?”
“Not a thing,” Neal said. “A relative?” Maybe they had a building named after her or something-although why, in that case, Blair would have gone to college on a scholarship, he wasn’t sure.
“She was-well, still is-a prominent figure in the second wave of the Guide civil rights movement,” Tim explained. “She started out as a draft resister-the Sentinel/Guide draft was over by then, but women Sentinels and Guides were included in the general draft, along with all men-but her main contributions were in the area of Guides’ rights to personal and financial independence from Sentinels. If you’re reading a really basic capsule history, you’ll see her name mentioned as the reason Guides can have jobs as anything other than Guides, marry without their Sentinels’ permission, and receive their own paychecks. The reality is a little more complex than that, of course, but she’s a very big deal, and as a result, ‘Sandburg’ is a name to conjure with around here.”
“And if that weren’t enough, he and his Sentinel make up half the board of directors of the Ellison Foundation-that, you probably haven’t heard of, but it’s a major donor of the University, this clinic, and half the rest of Cascade.”
“Oh,” Neal said. “Ellison’s that Sentinel?” He’d have been way more scared of him if he’d known that.
“What Sentinel?” Peter asked suspiciously.
“The one that nobody ever robs the museum here because of,” Neal explained. “They have this set of ceremonial regalia from the Temple of the Sentinels in Peru-solid gold, probably worth over a million dollars melted down.”
“Melted down?” Now Tim sounded outraged.
“And God only knows how much to the right collector,” Neal added. “Nobody would melt it down. And the security on it is a joke-a child could walk away with it. A blind child in a wheelchair could roll away with it. Only nobody has, and the rumor is that it’s because of a curse.”
“A curse,” Peter said. “Never mind, you know, keep on believing in that curse.”
“A curse where if you even think about stealing it, you get chased off by wild animals nobody else can see,” Neal added. “Now, Kate always thought that, if the curse exists, we’re probably the only museum-theft team in the world that could get past it. Being a Sentinel and a Guide ourselves, the artifacts probably wouldn’t mind if we took them. But we did a little research into it, and found out that Cascade has a Sentinel on the police force, who would almost certainly be the one assigned to investigate such a theft. And his family’s foundation underwrote both the museum and the expedition that found the artifacts, back in the nineties. And his Guide was part of the expedition. And at that point I realized that if I stole the stuff, I would wish for a curse, because he’d probably hunt me down and kill me.”
“Good choice,” Peter said.
“Anyway,” Neal said, “a month is too long for us to stay here.”
“How long do you think all of these things ought to take?” Tim gestured toward the flip chart.
“Less than that.”
“Hm,” Tim said.
“I’m sure you can come up with enough to do to fill that much time, but it’s not necessary. We don’t need that much help,” Neal clarified. Like having his eyes examined-who cared if his visual distortions were normal or not? What difference would it make if they weren’t?
“I think we need as much help as we can get,” Peter said.
“Yeah, well.” He stopped short of pointing out that Peter didn’t really know anything about it; the point was for Peter to feel less guilty, not more.
“Look,” Peter said. “I know you’re-” He stopped and looked at the flip chart. “Is this about thinking a month is too long for me to be away from home, or is there some other problem I’m not seeing?”
“No, that’s pretty much it,” Neal said. He supposed he could make some other objection, like that June might rent out his apartment to someone else if he wasn’t using it, but if Peter bought it, which was unlikely, Tim and Michelle would probably just suggest that they set their crack legal team on researching Manhattan landlord-tenant law or something. “And it is too long.”
“As Peter has mentioned,” Tim said, “and as you agreed, Peter’s job regularly takes him away from home for fairly long periods. What’s different about this?”
“It just is.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not really his job! Putting me in prison is his job. Making sure I’m…happy isn’t.”
“Not making you happy, no,” Tim said. “But making sure that you aren’t in sensory distress, and working toward a healthy, trusting relationship, is. He’s your Guide.”
“He’s not supposed to be my Guide.”
“But I am,” Peter pointed out.
“Because you don’t have any choice.”
Michelle held up one hand. “Hold on a second.” She turned to Tim. “Plan B?”
He winced, but nodded. “Yeah, let’s talk about plan B. If this,” he indicated the chart, “isn’t acceptable, or either of you is unwilling to work on these issues, then for you to continue is Sentinel and Guide is not going to work out. And we have several ideas for how we can make that happen.”
Peter started to say, “That’s--”
“Let’s hear ‘em,” Neal interrupted.
“First,” Michelle said, “we understand that Neal has to have an FBI agent supervising his work release, and he has to have a Guide. Is it absolutely necessary that they both be the same person?”
Somehow, Neal hadn’t thought of it that way. “That’s a good question.”
“That’s how the Bureau wants it,” Peter said.
“There’s certainly a case to be made that their preference for that arrangement stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of how Sentinel-Guide relationships work,” Tim suggested. “If they are under the impression that being Neal’s Guide will somehow make it easier for Peter to exercise his functions as-what do you call it? ‘Handler’-they’re wrong.”
Michelle continued, “And if the objection is financial, that they would prefer not to pay a Guide, there are ways around that problem. We do have a number of semi-retired Guides on file who are willing to take short-term pro bono assignments, and we also have students doing internships. Neither of those would be ideal, but over the longer term, we can work either on funding the position through a grant or on compelling the FBI to meet its moral obligation to fund it themselves.”
“And what about the part where either of us rocking the boat is likely to end up with me back in prison and Peter out of a job?”
“We rock it for you,” Tim said. “Making it clear to the FBI, the prison system, and whoever else is involved that both of you are cooperating fully, but that the situation isn’t workable. Legal will have to weigh in on whether it would be better to argue that the roles of Guide and Handler are fundamentally incompatible, or more simply to say that in the Clinic’s professional assessment, Peter isn’t a compatible Guide for Neal.”
“Which would be completely truthful,” Michelle added, “in that a healthy Sentinel-Guide partnership is impossible if either party feels coerced. The FBI is likely to think that we mean something more esoteric-Sentinel-Guide compatibility is a confusing issue to most mundanes.”
“But we’re not responsible for their misunderstanding,” Tim finished.
“In that scenario,” Michelle added, “Peter could certainly continue as handler, and it might be beneficial for him to have some continuing education so that he could function as a backup Guide if necessary, but that would be a much less demanding role for Peter.”
It should have sounded like a perfect solution. If it worked out exactly the way Michelle said-Neal had his doubts that it would, but if it did-he’d still be working with Peter, which would be nice, but he’d have somebody else for all of the hand-holding that Peter didn’t want to do. Instead, Neal thought that…well, he wasn’t sure what he thought, but he didn’t like it. “Why didn’t you tell us that in the first place?”
Michelle and Tim shared another look. “Because while each of you mentioned strong concerns that the other had been forced into this partnership and saw no acceptable alternative to continuing it, neither of you indicated that you actually feel that way,” Tim said. “So we think that this perceived problem is actually one of your communication issues, and not an issue of fundamental incompatibility. We wanted to focus on logistical issues today-figuring out the treatment plan-and raise this issue later in therapy, when we’re in a position to explore it more fully.”
“But if we’re wrong,” Michelle added, “and either of you does want out of this partnership, then the treatment plan is inappropriate and we should instead focus on finding a way to make that happen without negative repercussions. If we can’t make that happen, we can always come back to a scaled-down version of the treatment plan as Plan C. So-what do you want to do? Keeping in mind that we’re talking about your own preferences here, not what you think the other person wants.”
“Can we skip straight to plan C?” Neal asked. That sounded like it was pretty much what he wanted.
“No,” said Tim.
“I’m-I need to talk to Elizabeth,” Peter said. “We don’t make major life decisions without each other. But we already talked about it when the Bureau first asked, and we agreed that if I really didn’t want to, or she really didn’t want me to, I’d tell the Bureau I wouldn’t do it, and let the chips fall where they may. We decided to go ahead with it. It wasn’t my first choice, but, apart from being really bad at it, it’s been…I’m fine. I want to see this through.”
“You want to keep being Neal’s Guide?” Michelle asked.
“Yes. Assuming El’s still okay with it. I think she is, but I’ll have to ask her.”
If Elizabeth had any sense, she’d tell Peter he was insane and to take the deal.
“What about you, Neal?” Tim asked.
“What about me? This was my idea in the first place. Nobody tricked me into it.”
“Nobody tricked me into it, either,” Peter said. “And it was your idea when you didn’t have any options other than prison and catatonia.”
“I had other options.” Neal wasn’t sure what they were, exactly, but he was sure he could have thought of something. “I wouldn’t have asked for this if I didn’t want Peter to be my Guide.”
“And have you changed your mind?” Tim asked.
“No, but Peter--”
“Is able to make his own decisions,” Tim interrupted.
That wasn’t something Neal could really argue with. Hell, it was his whole point-that Peter shouldn’t be stuck being his Guide when he didn’t want to. If Peter claimed he wanted to, there wasn’t much Neal could do about it-he didn’t know much about being a Sentinel, but he did know there were sound historical reasons that arguing that Peter should be overruled in his own best interests would go over about as well as if Neal suggested they forget the whole thing and go rob the Rainier Museum.
“All right,” said Peter. “Then we’ll move forward with this.” Now he pointed at the flip chart.
“If Elizabeth agrees,” Neal said. She, at least, could tell Peter he was being a self-sacrificing idiot.