Possible solutions

Posted on Tue Jun 21st, 2022 @ 9:16am by Lieutenant Commander Savin & Jerant van Rijn

Mission: Character Development
Location: Counselor's office
Timeline: During shore leave
1613 words - 3.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Seeing Savin was busy at his desk and obviously had not noticed him coming in, Jerant made a point of tossing a small ping-pong ball he had taken from his quarters at the counselor. Certainly a direct approach might startle the man, and Jerant didn't really want that on his conscience. Not that a light-weight ball being tossed wouldn't startle him, but probably less so than him suddenly appearing out of seemingly nowhere.

"Got a moment?" he asked as soon as the Romulan looked up in surprise.

Savin nodded, gesturing towards the other area in his office. "I assume this is not a social call?" he asked quietly as he re-seated himself, waiting for Jerant to do the same.

"Not exactly no. I can come back later if you've got appointments planned?" Though it didn't seem that case otherwise he wouldn't be invited to sit, would he?

"I have time," Savin answered simply. Not one to ever pry with his best friend, always respecting telepathic boundaries when they weren't on duty in a work-together capacity, Savin didn't really know what he wanted to discuss. He had a hunch of course, but he waited for his friend to talk.

"You know I was pretty sick recently, right?" the Betazoid started off, "like... really sick and unable to do much of anything and stuck in isolation? Not that the time there was wholly unpleasant as I did have company." He blushed ever so slightly, briefly looking away in a kind of embarrassment.

"I do." Savin waited patiently for him to continue, after giving a brief acknowledgement, wanting him to get to his point at his own pace.

Feeding the resulting silence a little longer, Jerant finally sighed. "I still don't have my empathy or telepathy back and I'm starting to feel a little frustrated. And the only other person who can possibly understand how I feel, is actually in the same boat as I. Xavier hasn't gotten his back either... except... where I've had the odd whisper of well, something.. he's had nothing at all." He looked up, an almost pleading look on his face. "We've come to the conclusion that maybe another telepath might be our only hope and well..." He hesitated, letting another silence fall. "You're as good as family to me so we thought... maybe you can uhm... have a look and see if you find anything wrong with me?"

Savin smiled patiently, though his expression was thoughtful for a moment as he watched the desperation on the other's face. "We can certainly try," he finally answered, "but I have to warn you that this is an extremely intimate procedure-"

"We have melded before," Jerant interrupted him, "and we're normally constantly in each other's mind anyways."

"Not like this," Savin explained, "this would take me far deeper than normal, and this would invade the privacy I normally respect. I never tread into your private memories when we work together, and I know you do not go into mine. But this will be different, for me to see and possibly find what is wrong, I will have to and I need your consent to do so just in case."

Jerant nodded slowly. "I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't trust you," he said, "I just wish I had done sooner. Our sanity depends on it, and I fear I will lose mine in the long run, if this goes on much longer. I can't function without it, I can't be your aide, without it. I feel useless."

"Trust is not the same as consent," the counselor pointed out as he shifted in his seat, leaning forward a little. "Perhaps you should lie down, as this will be draining and desorienting. Again, I cannot promise I will find what you seek." As Jerant made himself comfortable, Savin closed his eyes for a moment, as if to center himself, before gently placing the fingers of both hands on the Betazoid's face. Again, he closed his eyes as he felt their minds connect. Instantly though, he felt himself surrounded by what manifested itself as a thick fog. Jerant?

There was no answer, as the mental version of the Romulan sought to find his way through the fog. It seemed like forever before he finally did find the mental representation of the Betazoid. It seems as though you appear lost in your own mind. You must find a way to clear the fog, or change its appearance into something you can find your way in. The physical form of the counselor seemed to frown, where his mental form did not.

I don't know how. I've never been this blind before. Jerant despaired. That virus caused this, and the cure didn't cure it.

Nodding, the counselor delved deeper into the man's memories, seeing flashes of recent events. Private events that were mere days or weeks ago. He ignored it as he tried to find the moment of infection, the moment the alien micro-organism invaded the other alien's body. He went beyond it, deeper into his memories, until the earliest manifestation of his telepathic talents. It was an exhausting affair, but the counselor persevered. He tried to ignore all the memories that assaulted his senses, focusing only on the man that accompanied him on his journey.

I do not know what I am looking for. Savin admitted. It is not like there is a switch to flip, or a button to push. I can only try and have you focus on me, as we 'travel' back to the present from your childhood memories, and you focus on what you felt during those memories. Empathic and telepathic, not emotional feelings of yourself.

Are you going to guide me through that fog? Jerant's mental representation exhibited worry and fear, as well as doubt. What if this wasn't going to work? What if he'd never get his gifts back?

Savin did his best not to physically recoil at the strength of the fear that washed over him. It was almost overwhelming and it took every ounce of effort not to break the connection he had. I will. he promised, reaching out. Take my hand, I will guide you. Do not be afraid, we will find a way if this does not work. We will enlist all the doctors we need to, if this does not work. But as you say, we are practically family. I know you better than anyone else, and you know me better than even my own family does. You once professed love that I could not return. You trusted me with that information, now trust me in my promise to do all I can to help. He felt the sense of fear diminish, but it was still persistent in the background. Take my hand Jerant, let me be your guide. Let me help you pave a path through the fog, and help you make it go away. Try imagining feeling the sun on your face, let it be the guide to your innate talents.

He was grasping at straws, having no experience with this kind of 'treatment', but he felt the Betazoid's despair and could actually understand his fear. It was like being robbed of one of your senses, much like he was always permanently robbed of one. Except, he had never known any better, whereas Jerant did know better. Slowly, holding a firm grip on the Betazoid's hand, he started his way back through the barrage of memories, but this time they stopped frequently to explore the extra sensory emotions he experienced. Those of others, not himself. Perhaps, Savin mused to himself, Jerant just needed to relearn how to perceive and use them.

After what might seem like hours, Savin finally guided his best friend through the thick fog, making him pave or create what might be seen as a lifeline, to find his way back in case of need. He lifted a trembling hand and studied the Betazoid's drawn expression. "How do you feel?" he asked after a very long silence.

Shakily, Jerant sat up, having to physically hold himself up or he'd actually keel right over. "I don't know," he answered uncertainly. "Hit by the proverbial freight train? Trampled by a stampede?" He offered an even more uncertain smile. "How do you feel?"

Savin said nothing, casting him an expectant look instead. "Try your empathy," he suggested quietly.

The Betazoid stared, not really having expected that answer. "I don't know...." There was a whisp of... something.... His expression brightened, grasping at that whisp with all his might. "Tired?" he ventured carefully.

The counselor nodded. "Extremely. Perhaps...we need to try this again. But not today, it is too draining on both of us, and I do still have several hours of my shift left." After all a counselor was never really fully off duty, was he? "Come back tomorrow. I suggest you get some rest now. Or find something that relaxes you, anything other than climbing buildings."

Jerant grinned at the mild jibe. "I think I'll go back to that pool, and just lounge in the sun," he answered, as he unsteadily got to his feet. "Geez I feel like I've had a few too many drinks..." He staggered towards the door. "You sure you'll be alright? Of course you are, you always are." He answered his own question, casting his friend a grateful look. "Maybe I'll catch some more feelings down there. Maybe." The one whisp did give him hope, and for now, that did have to do.