Therapy for Tara (1/13)

[master_of_fear]

It was the second time he'd vaccumed. He wasn't really sure it was physically possible for his apartment to get any cleaner. He needlessly straightens the bokkshelves in the main room, waiting for Tara to arrive. He kind of really didn't want her thinking he was dirty or anything.

((Jonathan's apartment is kind of a three room affair, with the

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[brambless]

Tara knocks on Jonathan's door, her other hand stroking over her bullet scar in a characteristically nervous gesture.

She's missed Jonathan as a friend, but she's missed him even more as a therapist.

[master_of_fear]

"Hey Tara," Jonathan says as he answers the door, "Come on in. Can I maybe get you something to drink? I was thinking we'd do this Freud style," he says, gesturing to the couch with a smile. Boy is he glad the decent furniture came from Gotham, "Though I promise, there will be no discussion of penis envy," he adds, rolling his eyes.

[brambless]

Tara lets out a soft huff of laughter, shaking her head. "That's, um... not a problem I have. Pity, perhaps. Not envy."

She settles herself onto the couch, tucking her bag on the floor at the end. "So, Freud style... does that mean I lie down?"

[master_of_fear]

"If you feel comfortable that way. I like to sit in a straight backed chair, so I completely understand having your own preference," he says, indicating where he's brought in one of the chairs from the table in the kitchen, "The important part is being comfortable, if laying down makes you comfy, go for it. Just... don't fall asleep." He smiles, taking any bite the comment had out.

[master_of_fear]

"You know what you need Tara? I think you should take a deep breath and scream, yell, do something to get this out of your system, okay? You can't concentrate if it's there and it'll cloud everything your feeling. Don't worry about anything else, just scream," he tells her. He knows it's not really in her nature, but she needs to ease up if they're going to continue.

A psychic? That might be... problematic. Though it was scientifically fascinating.

[brambless]

"I..." Tara shakes her head for a moment. She can't. She can't let go like that. But... if not here, with Jonathan, then where, and with whom?

Jaw set and mouth twisted bitterly, Tara closes her eyes.

Bringing the pillow up to her face she screams into it, knuckles turning white as the stuffing pushes away from her fingers, leaving her basically clenching her fists. The pillow muffles the scream, hides her face, gives her a moment's freedom to let it out.

[master_of_fear]

"That's how I do it," he says, leaning forward as if confiding something before straightening up and asking, "You feel a bit better though, right? Not as full of anger?"

"That wasn't very considerate of her. You have every right to be angry with her. But that is disturbing. That you were frozen there, unable to move. Dangerous really," he bites his lip, looking torn.

"Tara, have you ever heard of Systematic desensitization?"

[brambless]

"I feel..." Tara's jaw trembles, and she presses her lips together. The anger bled out with the scream, and now she just wants to cry. "Jonathan, there were... Shane was... I just lay! there! And Shane had to take care of me, and so Spider-Man and Freya were left to deal with things on their own, and... well, Spider-Man was fine, none of them got through to us, but... I was so helpless, and... Jonathan, Shane was... so scared.

"I don't want to scare her like that. Every time... every time, it breaks her. Just a little bit more. I don't want to be that person."

Her speech is hushed, low, but very rapid, like ripping off a bandaid.

She looks up at Jonathan, her eyes pained. "Desensitization? Isn't that where you, um... try to make it... not so bad? With exposure?"