Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Xmen Revolution. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Session 301: Jet Black; Closed
Topic Started: Aug 10 2009, 10:33 PM (214 Views)
Jet Black
Unregistered

Date: August 12th
Time: Mid afternoon



JP Jet and Doc Samson

Jet headed towards Alex's office. Not going there to meet with her Bossman but going to meet the government issued psychiatrist. She didn't know what she was going to expect of the therapy session. It made her a little nervous. She reached the door and stood there looking at the doorknob for a moment. Thinking before turning the handle, “Let's get this over with.” The blonde slowly peered her head in. “Hello?”

"Come in, Jet," said the man who was sitting before Alex's desk, not behind it. He was not what you might suspect a psychiatrist look like. For one his hair was as green as Polaris's and he wore a red t-shirt over a body that could have belonged to a body builder. "Have a seat, wherever you're more comfortable," he said as he rose and offered a hand that would surely engulf hers entirely. "Leonard Samson."

Jet smiled as he took his hand. He reminded her of Lorna. It was because of the green hair, but as far as first impressions went he seemed nice enough. “I guess I don't need to introduce myself.” After shaking his hand the blonde sat down on on the chair across from him. Sitting upright and not fully in the seat. It was nerves keeping her from relaxing in the normally comfortable chair. “It's nice to meet you Mr... or more like Doctor Samson.”

"Relax, Jet," he smiled, "You can call me Mr. if it makes you more comfortable, though, I've learned from experience that most of my patients find it most suitable to call me Doc. I'm not your stereotypical headshrinker, as you may have already figured out." He winked a green eye and said, "It's all right if I call you Jet, isn't it? Would you prefer Miss Black? Silver perhaps? Some of the powers I've counseled believe it is easier to speak to me in their spandexed personas."

Jet chuckled. “I can live with callin you Doc. You can call me Jet... or Jetty, Jetters. Whichever. I don't think Silver would... never mind.” She shook her head and kept a small smile. A smile to mask the subject she didn't talk about.

"Jet it is then," Samson smiled, "Self censoring already? Now, if we're going to be friends, there's nothing you can't say in front of me. Perhaps once we know each other a little better. I have your SHIELD Dossier, but really, you know how medical files all. I can tell you which leg was broken when you joined X-Factor, but how you broke it? Well, that's a different matter. What do you think would make you more comfortable around me? Do you have questions I can answer?"

Jet took a deep breath. For a moment her smile had faded, but returned when he mentioned that she had a broken leg when she joined X-Factor. It was strange to know that SHIELD had known that about her. “I don't have any questions for you. And it's not you I just, heh, therapy. Makes it seem like I'm a nut case.” Her smile faded again, “And the self censoring thing well... it's just not something I really talk about.” The blonde paused, “It's not you. Well... not fully you. Being seen by a shrink makes me a little nervous.”

"Understandable," Samson said, not losing his smile, "There is a problem with modern society putting a huge stigma on therapy. Only nut cases and loony tunes need to talk to someone about their problems. The rest of us can drink to the bottom of a bottle, or beat our wife and we're oh so very normal because it's private. You're a superhero, however, Jet, or I wouldn't be here, and that's not really a private occupation is it? You come face day to day with the most horrific and tragic events imaginable. You place yourself in harm's way so that others don't have to, and who do you have to talk about it to? Other superheroes who are just as stressed, just as burnt out? Do you know the suicide rate amongst powers? The percentage of our insular community who abuse drugs? Who go mad and turn into villains?" He folded his hands behind his head, in a parody of vanity, and said, "Much less since Puny Doc Samson got too high a dose of Gamma Radiation and joined your ranks."

Jet laughed, he was a very comforting person. She adjusted herself in her seat to be more relaxed. Thinking about if he joined X-Factor he'd fit right in. Everyone there always had a joke up their sleeve. It made living with what she had been through easier. But he was right, she hadn't talked to anyone. Keeping it all so secret and safe in her own head. The fight with Famine took a toll. Bringing up and out all the painful memories of December. “It's not anonymity I'm worried about. Being a psychiatrist you have that whole patient confidentiality thing going. I was going to say, earlier, that I think calling me Silver wouldn't be too appropriate. I don't talk about it to... anyone. It's painful.” The blonde leaned back in the chair sitting a bit more comfortably.

"Since you no longer have any powers." Samson said, simply, "And your powers define the core of your being?"

Jet shook her head, “Naw, not the core. It just doesn't... seem appropriate. I'm not Silver, that's the chick who can kick butt with mutant powers. I'm the chick who can kick butt in a robot. That I really don't want to go into. So I guess I'm the chick that is just going to kick butt. Don't know how yet but, I'm gonna think of something.” She remembered the conversation she had with Jon when she first realized her powers were stolen from her. The blonde had missed her powers, and it was hard adjusting without them. She didn't know if she was fully used to them being gone or not. “These guys aren't gonna bench me from the game. I won't let them. It's hard though, sometimes.”

"Pretend I know nothing about mutantism, Jet, for a moment," the green haired man said, straightening in his hair, and affecting a look of light suspicion, "Where did your powers come from?"

“Umm... well. It's in our genes. Best way I can describe it is that... when you hit puberty most teens get pimples, sweaty palms, crushes, all that. But mutants, kids who are born with the X-gene, also get powers. It's naturally developed. So I guess in simple terms it... comes from our blood. Our gene's. Comes from...us.” Jet took in a breath. She never really had to describe being a mutant to anyone.

"I see," Samson said, "But clearly it's something that comes and goes, considering yours has gone away. Something else must activate it. My strength comes from Gamma Radiation, The Fantastic Four was bombarded with cosmic rays... Rumor has it Iron Man is nothing more than a man in a rocket suit. Remove any of those things from us and we go back to being average humans. If your powers have been removed, then clearly, you can't be a mutant." He steepled his hands under his chin, "Perhaps there was a lab accident when you were a child?"

“Mutants powers don't go away. Those others are considered super humans. We are just... mutants. I wasn't around labs as a kid. And definately not an accident.” Jet paused. “It was a basement... and fully intentional.” She looked off else where away from him.

"But you aren't in that basement now, Jet, and your powers have not returned, so perhaps something was removed from you," he said, "You aren't in a basement now," he repeated.

Her heart raced as he kept repeating his words. She took in a deep breath. “Physically no. But when I sleep... whenever I sleep... If I sleep, I'm there.”

"Jet, I'd like your permission to hypnotize you," Samson said.

Jet had to do a double take on what he said. Looking back to him and lowering her eyebrows. “Hypnotize me?” She sighed and shook her head. “Sure.. I guess.” Hypnotism when a mutant did it was known, but actual hypnotism counting from ten sort of stuff was known but seemed odd. Even for a mutant. "Need me to lay down or...?"


"Would it make you more comfortable?"

Jet gave a small shrug. “I'm fine here.”

"Then, close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice," Samson said, "Starting at your toes, I want you to relax, just stretch your feet all the way out and then let them fall, completely relaxed, once more, and now your ankles, and relax, all the tension leaving your body, all the tightness, now your calves," He moved that way all the way up to the tip of her head.

As he spoke she followed. First with closing her eyes, then relaxing the muscles and bones he had said to relax. She listened, to his voice. Everything else seemed to drown out. Soon her whole body was relaxed. Her head dropped forward when he reached the top of her head.

"Are you still with me, Jet?"

“Mm-hm...”

"Can you raise your right hand for me?"

Keeping her arm on the chair she raised her right wrist up to the air.

"Very good, you can relax," Samson said. Jet was a remarkably responsive subject for hypnosis, many mutants were, actually. There was a theory that those who developed an alter ego were susceptible to a loss of identity, and a malleability that was highly exploitable, unfortunately. Were Samson an unscrupulous man, he could very well be quite a danger armed with such knowledge, but he was a very good man, and Jet was under no threat at all. "Jet, I'm going to ask you to trust me. I'm going to protect you from everything that happens from this point on. Nothing can harm you while I'm with you, you could walk through the core of the sun but as long as I'm beside you, you won't so much as freckle. Do you hear me?"

Jet lowered her wrist and her fingers and hand relaxed on the chair. “Yea...”

"We're going to go for a walk, Jet, will you take me for a walk? It's a nice day out. Everything is the way it was before Apocalypse came, so the people are out, the sky is blue. As we walk, we're going to move backwards in time. Day by Day, until you tell me to stop on the day you lost your powers. We're walking together, just enjoying each other's company, maybe having an italian ice. I like green apple. It goes best with my hair."

“Heh, mines pink lemonade.” Jet walked with the Doc looking at the days. She had finished her ice when they were getting closer. In a grim tone she said, “We're almost there...” It only took a few more steps until they reached that day. “Stop...”

"Where are we, Jet?"

“We were outside... But now we're in a basement. The basement. His basement.”

"Remember, as long as I'm with you, you're safe. No one is going to harm you. I'll keep you safe. You believe me, don't you? Who's basement is this? Why are you here?"

“I believe you... It's... the Scrambler's basement. I'm here because... he wants vengeance. Against me... I'm not the only one though...” Jet's voice shook.

"I'm right beside you, right here," He took her hand in his. "If you get scared, if you start to feel at all hurt or lost, squeeze my hand, as hard as you can. Focus all of your fear and loss and pain right into my hand. Who else is here with the Scrambler?"

She felt his hand in hers. “His men... and Warren.”

"Worthington, the Angel," Samson said, knowing this part of the story from her files, but still wanting her to tell him. "Scrambler wants vengeance, for what? What crime did you commit against him?"

“He blames us... His father killed his mother, tried to kill him... He stole from Warren's dad. He found out, and with my own father they sued him for everything. About to go bankrupt the Scrambler's dad decided to act. The Scrambler wanted to be responsible for my screams... just like my dad was responsible for his mother's screams.” A tear dropped from her closed eyelid. “He says I have to pay...”

"No, you don't," Samson told her, not stopping her tears, knowing they would come, "No, Jet, you don't have to pay. You had nothing to do with this. You had nothing to do with his tragedies. I want you to tell him that. Tell the Scrambler that any debt of your fathers is not your responsibility."

“It.... it's not... I...” She gave out a sharp gasp, and squeezed his hand. As tight as she could. “Nghh! He's hurting me... GAH!! Make him stop!” Her breathing quickened, she continued gripping tightly to his hand. Her free hand began to twitch.

"Jet, remember what I said, remember what I said," Samson said, forcefully, not angry, not harshly, "You're safe with me. Anything he does to you is nothing. You feel no pain, you feel none of it. He's an impotent little boy, stomping his feet at the unfairness of the world, and you are completely safe. If he uses a knife, it's made of rubber. If he tries to break your bones, it's no more painful than a pillow fight. As long as I hold on to your hand, and I will never let go, never until you tell me you need me to."

Jet groaned and tried to settle her breathing. But again, he was right, suddenly anything she had felt had quickly dissipated. The pains were gone. Slowly her breathing returned to normal. “Don't let go... please...” She was more scared than in pain now. Being close to the man who killed her the last time she saw him. The blonde loosened her grip on his hand.

As she loosened her grip, he tightened hers, to let her know he was still here, "Tell him, Jet. Tell him that this isn't your fault."

Jet was silent for a moment, “I don't know if I believe that.”

"Can you tell me why?"

“Why else would anyone hate me so much. With Camera it makes sense... but... I don't understand... he told me but I just... I don't understand.”

"Sometimes you don't have to understand, Jet, sometimes things don't make sense in this world." Samson said, "Who's your most favorite person in the whole world?"

“Just one?”

"Just one."

“...Jon is my favorite person... I'll never admit that out loud... I adore everyone on my team... my bossman, Wanda, Ali... everyone. But Jon is always there with me. He was there for this... and Krakoa, when I lost my powers. He's my favorite stray.”

Samson shook his head amused and said, "Jon Harper is dead. The man you know is a clone, a killer, constructed out of lies and madness and programmed in death and evil. Yet, he fights as a hero. Not something most people will understand. Just something to accept. Do you see where I'm going with this? Jon used everything that made him a bad person and rose above it to become a good one. Sounds to me like the Scrambler did the opposite. Do you see my point?"

“I think so... He's making everything that good about me bad...”

"And, that's not fair is it?" He squeezed her hand slightly, encouragingly, "All this time, he's been taking from you, over and over again. Every time you slept, every time you tried to use your power. Even without your abilities, you stood against the greatest threat this world has ever known, and still, he makes you think you're somehow a bad person, because one violent, temper tantruming child doesn't like you for the most unjust of reasons. Tell him, Jet, tell him that all debts are paid in full. Tell him it's enough."

Jet sat in silence for a moment. “No more...” Her free hand twitched again, but it twitched into a fist. “It's not my fault... It never was.” She exhaled, “Leave... me... alone!” Her body went more limp falling towards to ground.

Samson moved quickly, catching her, gently, but not yet setting her in her chair, "Tell him again, tell him and make him believe it. You did nothing wrong and you don't deserve this loss and pain. You're a good person. You deserve your powers. You deserve to be free."

Her breathing was heavier, “...”

"Jet, tell him," Samson urged, "Tell me. Tell yourself."

“...I'm free...” Jet opened her eyes and it showed two silver glowing orbs. After a moment she closed her eyes again and her breathing returned to normal.

That brief show of power made Samson smile, and he said, "Are you ready to wake up?"

“Yes.”

"Then, when I let go of your hand, you'll open your eyes, and be fully awake, ok?" He said, lifting her and setting her back in her seat, "You'll be awake, and you'll remember everything we talked about, everything we did. You'll be perfectly refreshed, and relaxed, you'll treat me to a green apple italian ice someday," he chuckled a little on that last command, teasing gently.

“Sounds like a plan Doc.”

He released her hand and sat back in his chair.

She opened her eyes. And breathed deeply. Blinking rapidly for a few moments she stared at him and smiled eyes welling up. “I... I feel lighter...” She chuckled.

Samson stroked his chin, "Lighter? Hmmm, maybe I should become a diet guru, lose weight but dumping that emotional baggage. It could work, you know." He passed her a box of tissue from the desk. "Do you feel up to seeing if you can spark me a little bit of your powers?"

Jet took the box and laughed. Thinking about his question for a moment she smiled wildly, for the first time in months, “Yea.” There was excitement in her voice.

"Don't expect miracles, though," he said, suddenly, serious, "I'm good, but I'm not God. If you produce so much as a flicker, it's progress. Let's see what you got."

“You've made more progress then I ever did. Even if the flicker doesn't come until next year.” Jet took a breath, and stretched out her hand. Not entirely sure on how to go about trying to make her powers flicker. But she concentrated. Remembering the feel, the flow, it seemed so long ago. And she had been punished enough.

"It's not your fault, Jet, it was never your fault."

Staring at her hand she spoke, “It wasn't. He blamed us... for all his pain. Pain I had nothing to do with. He wasn't just... Since it happened... I didn't really say his name out loud. Only once. It was because I was scared of the very mention of his name. No more. The Scrambler doesn't own me anymore.” Suddenly her eyes changed and a small ball of silver energy formed in her hand. She exhaled with a smile on her face. Tears that welded, fell over. “I am free.”
Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Free Forums with no limits on posts or members.
« Previous Topic · X-Factor/Investigations Headquarters Archive · Next Topic »
Add Reply