fandom_clinic | FH Clinic (5/29)

Tyler raised his eyebrows as he came up to the clinic. "Is this nature therapy?" he asked.

[OOC: On and off as must do housework.]

Susan smiled up at him. "No, just a wish not to waste a beautiful day. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, I'd like to stay outside. Is that all right?" She shaded her eyes. "How are you feeling this week, Jack?"

"Outside is fine," Tyler said, shaking it off as he took a seat.

"And I'm okay. You know, you're the only one here who calls me that."

He hesitated and looked at his hands. "I got into a fight last week."

Susan considered both bits of information, and decided to focus on the least volatile first. "Why do the others call you Tyler?"

And after a moment: "What happened during the fight? From the way you said that, I don't think you mean training or sparring."

"He told them it was his name, when I came here." Tyler frowned. "My name. Anyhow, it's easier."

He shook his head. "I was sparring, right? And I kind of lost control." He flexed his hands. "The other guy just seemed arrogant. Set me off."

Susan nodded. "You're certainly not obligated to explain about Tyler to them. But I do want to know if you find it confusing, or distancing. Do you feel less like yourself, using a name that isn't yours?" She studied him. "Why Tyler?"

Listening, she bit her lower lip, thinking. "Tell me what lead up to the loss of control, if you can. What in particular lead you to think he was arrogant? How often do people strike you that way?"

"I don't know why Tyler. Why Jack, why Susan? Why anything?"

He shrugged. "And no, it doesn't confuse me. Distance me, maybe, but I feel pretty distant already."

He fingered his lips as he thought about Su's next question. "He kept dodging my punches. I was getting creamed. And he's a friggn' knight. It was hard to take."

"Susan and Jack were names that our parents chose for us," Susan pointed out. "They're who we were since we could talk, walk, and begin to think. Tyler is not. And you chose the name; was it on a whim? Or was there a reason?"

"Creamed." Susan frowned, worried. "Was he too aggressive? Or simply better trained?" She tapped a finger on her arm rest. Jack's insecurity might have been the trigger for his losing control, or it might have been something else. "A knight would be, I would expect. Why would that make you angry?"

"Dunno," Tyler said briefly. "I used a lot of names. That's the one that turned into a person. I do not know why."

He thought for a moment. "Better-trained, I guess. It made me angry because I'm a good fighter, but I was just outclassed."

Susan nodded, and let that go, making a mental note to follow up on how his difficulties started at some later point.

"That happens to everyone, of course. It's not an enjoyable feeling, fighting a fight you may not be able to win." She cocked her head. "You're bothered now, that you lost control in the sparring session. What were your thoughts at the time? Were you afraid? Embarassed? Or frustrated?"

"Yes," Tyler said. "All of the above."

He sniffled. "Which was really weird, because I like English Peter."

"English... Peter."

Susan restrained the urge to palm her face and laugh in frustration. "Ah." She paused, then sighed. "I should tell you up front, Tyler. 'English' Peter is my brother." She added hastily, "And he is a knight, and I am not in any way angry that you were fighting with him. That sometimes happens during fighting practice. I'm glad you like him, though."

Tyler facepalmed. "Right. Pevensie." He felt like an idiot. "Um, sorry. I don't think we did any real damage."

"So are you from 1940 too?"

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Peter was spending the last day of his long weekend without worskhops wandering around the island fairly aimlessly. When he came across his sister reading in the sun, the familiarity of the image made him grin.

"Good afteroon, Susan!" he called with a bow.

"Peter!" Susan waved him over, smiling. "Come sit with me, my next patient isn't due for an hour. How was your weekend?"

Peter took the offered seat. "The weekend was lovely. I enjoyed the weather and visited Willow with her books at the bookstore. Also made sure the proper flag is flying over camp now," Peter said with a mischievious grin. "How has yours been?"

"Rather lazy, I'm afraid. Is this Aereopagitica? A friend of mine is quite good friends with the owner." She raised one eyebrow. "I know that look, Peter. What kind of flag are we discussing? Precisely."

Peter nodded. "Yes, she was friends with the owner from her home. And it is a very appropriate flag for the circumstances. I don't know why you'd think otherwise," Peter said with injured innocence.

"Peter...."

"Just a bit of a prank war going on. All in good fun, you know," Peter said, still smiling. "It's odd, a bit, Su, no one expects me to be anything other than another boy here. I think it might be going to my head."

She gave him a warm smile. "And why shouldn't it, for now? Narnia is a world away. No one knows you're a king here." She leaned her chin on her hand, tilting her head. "I remember how difficult I found it sometimes, as we started to grow up. In between the dancing, and tournaments-- all of the organizing. Trying to get food to refugees from the war. Shelter. Then all the other fighting, with the giants." Susan went quiet for a moment, then smiled again. "And Fandom is rather ridiculously idyllic, in between crises."

"Indeed, the council meetings and the training, the hunts for more of the Witch's creatures, even the dancing and being sure to dance more with you and Lucy than any other girl for fear of a misunderstanding. But beyond all that, it's the knowing that everyone's watching. Always. And everything you do must be as the King." Peter shook off the more somber mood and grinned at Susan. "But you already know all that."

"Yes. I know all that." And for the first time, it occurred to her that while she'd missed having the respect and authority accorded a Queen when they returned to England, she hadn't missed being a Queen. Narnia, always, had been a loss. But the responsibilities of royalty-- it had been a relief to put those down. Aslan had been kind as well as cruel, in forcing them to go home. And was being wiser than he knew in giving Peter this holiday.

"So you're making friends then, among the -- Stickbugs?" Susan put a hand over her mouth to hide the smile. "Any of them standing out from the crowd, whom I may have met?"

"There's no mocking of the Mighty Stickbugs," Peter said, laughing at himself as he said it. "But yes, they're good boys. You've definitely met one - Peter Parker. He said he was a fan of our family because you pronounced him sane. The others are Cam Mitchell, John Crighton, Kawalsky, then some new ones like me. Tyler, Jamie, and Greg."

"Didn't I hear something about-- hair dye?" Susan listens to the radio erratically, mostly when she needs to laugh. "Was that an exaggeration? And yes, I remember Peter quite well." Laughing, she asked, "Still telling jokes with every other breath, I assume?" Susan sobered. "Tyler. I heard that there was a bit of an... altercation?"