Heart to Heart

[Disc10]

((Not so much a biography as a small glimpse into my first character here. I've tried to keep things a little vague as I need to take the time to properly read the appropriate bits of lore, but hopefully nothing should be too out of the ordinary.))

“Johnathan? Johnathan, are you listening to me? Mr Fisher!”

The scruffy looking gentleman known as Johnathan Fisher slowly looked over to the psychiatrist sitting opposite him with a faintly annoyed expression on her face, in a positively dreary looking room. The eternal fog of New London didn’t help matters.

“You’ve not been paying attention to anything I’ve just said have you?”

He pondered this for a moment, idly rubbing stroking his… to say goatee would imply a deliberate style, it was more a messy patch of coarse hair that happened to inhabit his face.

“Maybe. Some rubbish about the war no doubt. Letting go, tending a Zen garden, that sort of thing, right?”

Ignoring the mockery, Dr Reed continued.

“Yes, that sort of thing.”

She let out a little sigh and fiddled with her glasses. Johnathan was a difficult patient and his case was a difficult one, at least given the current circumstances. Soldiers broke all the time, not many of them take out a civilian craft with them. The only reason he wasn’t languishing in a cell somewhere or dead was the fact that it was Kusari.

“Fine. Let’s cut the dreck, as I’m sure you’d put it. Why are you here?” She asked, pointedly.

“Because it was that, or get shoved out an airlock with any luck.” Johnathan replied.

“And what do you want?” Reed continued.

“To have my arse in a pilot’s seat and not in this bloody room.” Johnathan grumbled back.

There was a rather pregnant pause.

“…are you going somewhere with this?” Johnathan asked, suspiciously.

“You don’t just want to “have your arse in a pilot’s seat” though, do you? You want to serve in the BAF again.” Reed answered matter of factly.

“Good god, no.” Johnathan spat, the first bit of emotion other than apathy Dr Reed had seen… possibly ever.

There was another long pause, this time with an awkwardness hanging in the air, and a scowl forming on Johnathan’s face. Dr Reed, after making a few notes, slowly began to press the issue.

“My apologies, but I’m not quite sure that’s true, even if you do believe it yourself.”

“Listen.” Johnathan growled “I know it’s your job to bore into people’s minds like an insufferable little brain leech, but I know what I want and I know what I don’t want. I don’t give two fraks about the BAF anymore.”

Dr Reed remained unconvinced as she let another insult pass her by.

“And the reason you still wear that coat is…?” She inquired.

Johnathan glanced down at the drab green coat he wore, still adorned with BAF livery. A slightly torn patch marked where a medal has once been stitched in.

“It’s a reminder. You can’t erase the past, no good trying to. I can’t get away from what I did, and what the BAF turned me into.” Johnathan snarled. “All I want is to get back out there. I can’t erase the past, but the future’s not been written yet.”

Dr Reed considered this. She had been having regular sessions with Johnathan, and whilst it wasn't that he didn’t want to get better… gruff disposition aside, perhaps talking things through wasn't going to help. Maybe being stuck on the planet was sending him stir crazy.

“How do you feel about rocks, Mr Fisher?”

Johnathan was confused, and slightly suspicious.

“Good for clocking annoying doctors over the head with. Why do you ask?”

Dr Reed rolled her eyes at that one.

“Mining may be something to consider. Gets you out into space, it pays well and most importantly it keeps you away from any volatile situations other jobs may risk putting you in-“ Reed began to explain.

“Like what?” Johnathan snapped back.

“Well,” Reed continued, taken aback slightly. “No security force would take you now, not after what happened. Escort missions put you in the heat of combat again, which could trigger another episode, even trading runs the risk of being attacked by unsavoury individuals, much more so than simple mining.”

Johnathan was very clearly not impressed with the idea.

“Small steps Johnathan. Stretch your wings for a while, let things settle down. I can recommend this line of work and monthly sessions, rather than weekly ones. I feel you might recover better this way.” Reed finished.

He considered this for a while. He didn’t mind the work, not really. There was a peacefulness to it, and the doctor was right, it probably would help. But he knew a man like him didn’t have a future in honest work like that, not forever. He had to go where the money was, wherever it was.

“Oh you smooth talker you. I’ll give it a shot, just for you.” Johnathan finally answered. In the most sarcastic tone he could muster.

Dr Reed mentally breathed a sigh of relief.