Keep Calm and...Oh, Forget it

Posted on 14 Oct 2014 @ 3:05am by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Lieutenant JG Delainey Carlisle

3,223 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 06 - Legend of Souls
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 3, Counselor's office
Timeline: MD08 - 0800hrs

[ON]

On his second official night on the Galileo Oren didn't sleep.

The evening had been a whirlwind of emotion, starting from his conversation with Grayson to finding M'Ressa in their quarters. After she had finally calmed enough for the sedative to lull her into a deep sleep, Oren himself found no peace in the silence. The night was filled with the soft hum of the engines mixed in with the insistent purr of the tribbles surrounding his bed. As he stared up at the ceiling, Oren reflected on the last couple of days.

Several incidents entered his mind, washing over his restless mind as he tried to keep as calm as possible so as to not disturb M'Ressa. The first thing to cross his mind was his conversation with Grayson hours ago. As irrational as the morning would no doubt prove, the idea that the engineers distress was somehow his fault wouldn't leave him. Maybe if he'd at least given him a chance he wouldn't have gone off like he had. Did Grayson put himself through that because of Oren's rejection? He couldn't be sure and a part of him knew how arrogant it was to even think about it as a possibility. The thought that he, could throw someone into such despair was laughable. Oren was hardly the most irresistible or worthwhile person on the ship.

But there the guilt was, settling like a spiky mess in the pit of his stomach. Grayson was really sweet and he should have given him a chance, should have been kinder.

Turning in his bunk, Oren closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but as he re-positioned himself onto his back, he was reminded of his encounter at the Arboretum and, the moment the thought entered his head, he knew he was doomed for the night.

'I can't believe I flirted with him. What is wrong with me? Can't I go one damn day without getting under someone's skin? He's taken, for gods' sake!' he agonized, shifting in his bed again. Glancing to where his roommate was sleeping, he felt a pang of guilt and nervousness. He didn't want to wake her up accidentally.

As carefully as possible, Oren left his bed and went into their bathroom. Splashing water onto his face, he hoped the cooling effect would calm him, but the damage was done.

He didn't go back to bed and, instead, changed into some comfortable clothes before going for a walk around the ship. He got back into their room just in time to properly start his day at 0500hrs.

Having put it off long enough, Oren was ready to admit defeat and made an appointment with the ship's Counselor.

Delainey entered her office early, unable to sleep, and was surprised to see there was someone looking to see her at her earliest appointment. Oren was new to her, and she was pleased to see he appeared to be motivated to follow protocol regarding psych evals. It was a refreshing opportunity.

At the appointed hour, she headed out to her waiting area, eager to greet the man.

The man appeared to be more a boy by appearance, having a youthful face with smattering of freckles and an eyebrow piercing. He was slightly shorter than the counselor, with a lithe frame and hair with a length that probably wouldn't pass regulation had he been an actual officer.

He stood up to meet he Counselor as she stepped out, a friendly smile on his face. "Doctor Carlisle," he said, pushing his bangs out of his eyes with one hand before holding out the other in greeting. "Oren Idris. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Delainey accepted his hand and offered her customary smile. She was surprised by his appearance, as it was not at all what she expected, but years of experience helped her maintain a neutral, though pleasant, expression. "Likewise. Please, feel free to call me Delainey if you like. Come with me and we can head to my office."

Crossing the waiting area, the doors to Carlisle's hissed open and she led the way inside. "May I get you something from the replicator?"

"I'd like some jumja tea," Oren said, following the doctor. "Delainey's a very interesting name. Does it mean anything?" he asked, taking in the room as he entered.

Carlisle selected his order and while it was materializing, she offered with a grin, "It apparently means 'child of dark defiance' in Gaelic or 'from the alder grove' in old English. Personally, I like the intrigue of the former best." Carlisle didn't consider herself to be dark, though she could be plenty defiant if need be.

She offered the tea to him as she sat. "Where does Oren come from?"

"El Aurian, I assume" Oren replied, taking the offered tea with a small nod. "But I'm afraid I don't know if it actually means anything. I think my parents just liked the name and I never thought to ask." He shrugged before sitting down on opposite Delainey, crossing his legs.

"I'm not sure the meaning was a draw for my parents either, but I liked the meaning anyway." Carlisle paused, then offered, "Is there a specific concern that brings you my way?"

Oren shifted nervously, wondering just how serious his anxiety was. It wasn't as bad as it had been years ago, but the previous night's insomnia wasn't a good sign either. He was quiet for what seemed like minutes before finally making his mind up.

"Well...I used to take medication for anxiety. Years ago it was...well, it was pretty extreme. I'm better now, so I don't have to take medication anymore, but I didn't sleep last night."

"I see," Delainey offered, taking in the concern. "How well do you normally sleep?" She could see he was worried, but with a past history of anxiety, she wasn't sure what was normal for him.

Oren shifted. "It usually takes me about an hour after going to bed to actually fall asleep, but I don't usually have any problems once I'm there. I wake up around 0500 every morning." He shook his head. "I'm just being silly. It's probably just the change in scenery." He knew it was blatant lie. Oren never had problems sleeping in strange places and, over the years, he had been forced to sleep in conditions much worse than a Starfleet ship. He knew logically that this was probably a one off bout of insomnia, but he couldn't shake the feeling of it being a bad sign of things to come.

"Have you had difficulty getting to sleep in new places before?" Delainey didn't think so, or else he wouldn't come to her after one night, but the way he trivialized his own concerns, she wasn't sure.

Oren shook his head slowly, looking down at his hands entwined and resting comfortably on his lap. "Not really," he admitted with a resigned sigh.

Leaning back in his seat, Oren looked back at Delainey for what felt like a long time, trying to read her. He'd had many therapists in his past and was never sure what to expect from them in the first session. For what seemed like the hundredth time in his life, he wished he had the skills at reading people that El Aurians were supposedly famous for.

He knew he was generally well liked but it wasn't because he consciously knew what to say, like his parents or grandmother did. It just came naturally to him, the need to please and listen. To care. Whether that was a result of his less than ideal upbringing or being what he was, he wasn't sure.

Going back to Delainey, Oren knew that, if he didn't take a chance, he may not be able to nip these troubles in the bud. By staying silent and mysterious, he was just asking for trouble.

"It's been...a difficult few days. Getting settled and meeting people," he admitted finally, not meeting Delainey's eyes.

Sensing the gulf of Oren's discomfort between them, she offered, "Will you tell me more about that?"

Pausing to gather his thoughts, Oren spoke after a few moments. "I've always been told I'm friendly. It just comes naturally to me, I suppose. I love people and I love hearing about their lives and getting to know who they are," he began explained, finally looking up at the doctor.

"I also like to be liked. I like pleasing people by saying the right thing, or doing the right thing. But sometimes, people misunderstand," Oren added, shifting uncomfortably and running a hand through his hair before leaving it to rest on the back of his neck to pick at the thin hairs there.

"They think I'm flirting with them, so they flirt back. When that happens I just...go into this...mode. Autopilot, I guess you could call it, where I continue the flirtation even though I know I don't want to. It's happened a couple of times here already and, every time, it's like this out of body experience where I just can't stop, like I'm just not there anymore." Oren stopped, putting his hand back into his lap. "Does that make any sense?" he asked finally, hoping he'd described the feeling well, even if he did just scratch the surface of how it truly felt it that moment.

Delainey nodded. "It makes sense to me, though if you're flirting with people and continuing to do it, is it possible you're seeking to be more than merely liked?" Carlisle's immediate question was whether there was some sort of unresolved trauma to be addressed. People frequently relied on relating to people sexually if they had in fact been hurt relationally or sexually. It was a way to take control in a way in which they'd had none.

Oren looked at her, confused. "I'm not sure I know what you mean," he admitted, then wondered if he'd expressed himself well. 'Probably not', he reasoned.

"I don't want the flirtation to go anywhere, if that's what you mean," Oren supplied, struggling to explain himself. "I just get this" He sighed, trying to find a word and failing, "feeling that the best way that conversation would go is if I flirt back and I can't help myself. One of the crewmen actually wanted to take it further." He didn't want to say Grayson's name since, in his mind, it didn't really matter who it was. It could've been anyone. "I panicked and told him I wasn't interested. His feelings were hurt, but I think the situation resolved itself."

Oren sighed. "I just wish people wouldn't flirt with me at all. It never ends well."

"Perhaps they aren't flirting with you at all, and something within you is inclined to interpret these interactions that way?" There had to be something Oren was getting out of responding flirtatiously.

"Keval said he wanted to kiss me and that I was sexy. I don't know how else to interpret that," Oren told her, wondering where she was going with her assumption. "What are you trying to say? That I do want them to flirt?"

"Well," Delainey offered evenly, "you may not want them to flirt with you, but you're getting something you need or want out of these interactions, or you wouldn't be continuing the flirting once it's out there."

"Like what?" Oren simply replied, not at all impressed with the doctor so far. Deep down, he knew there was some truth to what she was saying, but she was acting awfully sure of herself that he didn't feel quite comfortable letting her get away with it so easily.

Delainey shrugged. "The reinforcement could be as varied as individuals are themselves. The fact you respond to offerings of an intimate nature with responses that suggest intimacy could reflect a desire you have to be seen as sexually attractive and confident. As you said, these overtures from others make you uncomfortable, but your responses don't involve asserting those feelings of discomfort, but instead, reflect the opposite. I'm wondering, other than the instances you've already described, have there been other times when you've felt you didn't have control of events of a romantic or sexual nature?"

Oren shrugged, thinking back to his past relationships. "I was in a couple of relationships when there was a....well, my previous therapist categorized it as emotional abuse," he admitted, meeting the counselor's eyes. He used to be ashamed of what had happened to him, but he'd gotten over it. Mostly. At the counselor's question, he started to have his doubts. Was he over it?

"What would you have categorized it?" Delainey asked, wondering if Oren mentioned his previous therapist's view because he didn't agree.

Oren nodded. "I think all abuse is emotional, in its own way, so I would've just said abuse. Thinking back on it, there were so many aspects and types of it, singling one out, like emotional, seems counterproductive. When we broke up, it wasn't because I thought they were really abusive. I just thought it didn't work out." He shrugged again before crossing and then uncrossing his arms.

"Only years later, when I told him about it all, did he point out to me that it was wrong, and that the way we ended things wasn't my fault. So, now I know it wasn't."

"Do you believe it?" The counselor knew there was a huge difference between knowing something intellectually and believing it emotionally. If Oren had trouble believing he deserved better, it could explain why he was re-creating some unhealthy and uncomfortable interactions.

Oren looked a little stumped at her question. Of course he believed it! Why wouldn't he? It made sense to believe it. Right? Thinking back, he tried to go over his feelings after those past events. It had all happened right in the middle of a dynamic time for him, career wise, and Oren wasn't even sure he'd given it much thought at the time. He'd spoken about it during his usual therapy session but it hadn't been the main focus of them. He was getting treated for anxiety at the time.

"I don't know how to answer that," he admitted, blushing a little at his own lack of introspection.

"That's an honest start," Delainey answered with a nod. "Honesty is all we can ask for. Maybe that's something you can think on and we can continue to talk about it? If you're open to it, I'd like us to meet again."

Oren nodded as she spoke and once she was finished, he agreed. "I think that would be good. I'd like that," he told her with a smile. He clearly needed more therapy to get over his issues, which seemed to be piling up in recent weeks.

"Great," Delainey replied with a smile of her own. "My yeoman can set you up with another appointment. In the meantime, come and see me tomorrow if you still can't sleep and I'll prescribe something for you."

"Alright," Oren said with a nod. "I think I just need to get my mind off of things. That away mission sure didn't help." He shook his head as the memories flooded his mind.

Delainey nodded in agreement and sympathy. "I'm still processing it myself. Do you want to talk about it?"

Oren shrugged. "What's there to talk about? It was really frightening not knowing what those things were. As for the dead bodies, well...I'm not really bothered by those."

"What were you bothered by?" Oren mentioned the mission, so despite his initial nonchalance, she knew there had to be something he wanted to discuss.

But Oren just shook his head. "It doesn't matter. As a civilian, it's none of my business." He stood up now, ready to leave. "Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Carlisle. I'll be sure to speak to your assistant and set up the next session."

Delainey frowned, not expecting the abrupt departure. "It's ok if you want to share your opinion about something you witnessed, if you want. Whether it's your business or not, it won't going anywhere between you and I."

Oren just shook his head. "It's nothing, really. It all worked out in the end," he said with a small shrug and a smile. "There's no point in addressing issues that aren't really there anymore."

Delainey shrugged in return. "Even if it worked out for other people or at an earlier time, that may or may not do you any good. Something isn't sitting well with you I can see. It seems like you thought of mentioning it because something isn't resolved for you. Your call, I suppose."

Oren saw that she wasn't really going to let this go, so he did. "It just crossed my mind during the mission that, if we all died in the mine, the ship would lose almost its entire senior staff. It just didn't make sense to me why the Commodore would authorise for every department head and their assistants to go on an away mission at the same time."

Carlisle thought the man had a point, one that Carlisle hadn't really considered at the time, but in light of what happened, was certainly at the forefront now. "It's not an invalid question," she replied with a nod. "I'm sure the command team is considering that very issue for future missions."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they're all torn up about it," Oren said sarcastically before he could stop himself. On the best of days, his opinion of Starfleet was questionable at best, but after the near death he'd experiences the day before, it had plummeted considerably. The Fleet wasn't a new organization in any sense, and he imagined Away missions were run a strict protocol. Disobeying it seemed idiotic at best.

"Have you ever made a decision you thought was the right one at the time, but turned out to have negative consequences?" Carlisle's tone was one of genuine curiosity, but inside she thought his reply too glib.

"Of course," Oren replied without needing to think on it. He'd done many things like that and the negative consequences had always turned out to be someone else getting hurt. "Why?"

"How did you feel afterward?" Delainey's voice was sincere.

"In most cases? Selfish," Oren replied after a few moments of thought, leaning against the couch.

Meeting Oren's eyes, she asked, "Would you have welcomed someone else questioning whether you really felt what you did about that decision?"

"I wouldn't care," Oren replied, his tone blunt. "All of those decision were personal. They affected no one but myself. But I see your point, which is exactly why I didn't want to talk about this," he explained, then shrugged before motioning to the door. "I'm gonna go. Again, it was lovely speaking to you. I'll see you again soon." By Oren tone and demeanor it was obvious he was quite eager to leave.

Delainey doubted very much he saw her point, but not wishing to deny the man the chance to save some face, she said, "We're good for now. Take care."

[OFF]

Lt. Delainey Carlisle, M.D., Ph.D.
Counselor/Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Oren Idris, Ph.D.
Archaeologist/Anthropologist
USS Galileo

RSS Feed