Ivanova nodded. "That makes sense. I'll . . . we'll talk. I should know the details. Even if she is walking away from me into a war." Her throat felt less raw now and it was easier to talk.
"Especially so you don't imagine worst-case scenarios that might have a low possibilty of coming true." Susan bit her lip. "Not that you'd be Russian about this at all."
She opened up Susan's dream diary. "We didn't have a chance to look at this before. Is there anywhere you want me to start?"
"Right, then." Susan opened the journal randomly, and found this entry (http://suzotchka.livejournal.com/8929.html#cutid1).
Slowly, she read it aloud, and finished with, "...trapped by the thorns that cut into my wrists and ankles."
She raised her eyes to Ivanova. "Right, then. That's a rather frightening nightmare. Is that typical of many of your dreams? And who was the woman who disappeared there?"
"No, no it wasn't very typical," Ivanova replied slowly, wrapping one arm around her ribs almost defensively. "And the woman . . . I think it was," she swallowed. "Talia."
"Vines are supposed to be a symbol for life, for growth--but also restraint. Do they have any personal meaning for you, any resonance beyond the obvious?"
"I've never dreamed of vines before. I don't usually dream about plants or nature at all, so I couldn't say." She frowned. "I had been getting dirty with Blair planting seeds with Blair before I went to bed. To give it a very obvious meaning."
"The outcome of a new enterprise leading to being trapped?" Susan cocked her head. "But Talia was in the middle of it. And it happened as you turned for home. Something in the past, perhaps, with Talia, being repeated?"
"I never want anything like that to happen again," Ivanova replied shortly. "It was everything I hated and feared suddenly manifesting themselves in the woman I had finally let myself love. They destroyed her." She paused. "Talia . . . turned into Tonks. And then Tonks turned into the Talia I last saw. If something like that happened . . ."
"Is it a valid fear? Is there anything in Tonks' world, that could turn her against you like that, against her will?" Susan tapped a pencil on the journal. "Or is it just a symptom, of a fear of being abandoned?"
"I don't know about her world, but Tonks is . . . stronger than Talia was." Admitting she was afraid of anything? Not her favourite thing in the world. "It could be the second," she admitted reluctantly.
"And that's a reasonable fear, given your experience." Susan's voice softened. "But it doesn't have to be a murder of crows and strangling vines, to be left behind. No matter how much it hurts." She looked at the entry again, then asked, "Does anything stand out for you about this? Anything that was strange, out of context?"
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She opened up Susan's dream diary. "We didn't have a chance to look at this before. Is there anywhere you want me to start?"
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"No, nowhere in particular," she replied.
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Slowly, she read it aloud, and finished with, "...trapped by the thorns that cut into my wrists and ankles."
She raised her eyes to Ivanova. "Right, then. That's a rather frightening nightmare. Is that typical of many of your dreams? And who was the woman who disappeared there?"
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The Corps is mother, the Corps is father. It was a catchy slogan.
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getting dirty with Blairplanting seeds with Blair before I went to bed. To give it a very obvious meaning."no subject
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