Therapy Session
| Published 25 Apr 2026 | |
| 8395 words | 37 minutes |
PATIENT: Gavrill Vorobyev, aka Agent HROTHGAR
THERAPIST: Dr Marie-Anne Faucher, aka Agent SCARLET
Introduction
21 February 2017
It is a quiet Tuesday morning and Gavrill Vorobyev is not getting paid. He did not notice this until today as he did not think he needed to worry about it. He knows Helvetia can afford him. He knows as much from the expensive bail Henri and Fisher paid to get Gavrill out of prison, and the big down payment Gavrill received upon being hired immediately afterwards. Gavrill has never seen so much money added to his bank account so quickly. He thinks that if what Henri told him is true, if each operation pays significantly more than his down payment, and if there will be an operation every two or three months, maybe he will not have to worry so much about money.
Today, a phone call tells Gavrill he has to worry. This call is from Helvetia. He knows this because the unknown voice of the unknown number on his work phone calls him Agent Hrothgar and then calls herself Doctor Marie-Ann Faucher. His shoulders go stiff at her voice.
Dr Faucher speaks English. Her accent is French. She tells Gavrill that based on his record, she regrets to inform him that he needs to undergo psychological monitoring. Gavrill does not know what record Dr Faucher is talking about. He does not know what this English ‘psychological monitoring’ is and now Dr Faucher is asking if he has time to meet next week at a nearby hotel. It is merely company policy. He must not hinder the performance of the rest of his team. His payment is suspended for now but if he attends Dr Faucher’s sessions, he will receive it.
Gavrill does not know what this English ‘suspended’ is. The call is silent for a long time. His shoulders are still stiff.
Dr Faucher asks if there is another language he prefers communicating in. Gavrill says Russian. She starts speaking Russian and his grip on his phone tightens because if she knows his number and his callsign and his language then she MUST be a spy.
GAVRILL: Why do you know Russian?
DR FAUCHER: …I was just told to study it. It’s good for business or… whatever I was taught. Why? Are you concerned that I’m a spy? I suppose asking doesn’t help…
GAVRILL: I don’t know you. I don’t know if you actually work for Helvetia. Stay away from me.
DR FAUCHER: Ah, wait, Hrothgar — I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to prove that I’m not a spy, but really, if I was, I wouldn’t be making this call to you directly through Helvetia’s phone network, no?
Gavrill thinks. His work phone is supposed to be secure. He does not say anything but he does not hang up. He peers out of his shuttered windows and inspects the empty street.
Dr Faucher reexplains what she said in Russian. Before Gavrill can react to not getting paid, she asks again if he has time to meet next week. Gavrill asks to meet now. The sooner he can get paid, or the sooner he can eliminate a threat, the better. He can meet her at the Fairmont hotel but he does not want to meet her at six o’clock at night when it is dinnertime with his children. But Dr Faucher can’t make it before three o’clock when his children are dismissed from school. They compromise to meet tomorrow at ten o’clock in the morning instead. Gavrill tells her that he does not need her to pick him up. He hangs up.
—
PATIENT: Gavrill Vorobyev, aka Agent HROTHGAR
THERAPIST: Dr Marie-Anne Faucher, aka Agent SCARLET
First Session
22 February 2017
It is a cold Wednesday morning and Gavrill Vorobyev is late. After dropping his children off at school, he walks to the nearest bus stop and just misses the bus. Standing at the bus stop shelter that doesn’t block the wind but still somehow reeks of marijuana, he tells Dr Faucher he will be late via text. She says she will be waiting.
It is not until thirty minutes pass that Gavrill, with his gobsmacked hair and red cheeks and cracked knuckles, finally arrives at the luxurious hotel lobby. He sends another text to Dr Faucher to tell her he has arrived. She says she will be downstairs soon so Gavrill waits. He goes towards the cluster of chairs near the entrance but does not sit. He thinks it is too vulnerable of a state. He thinks he needs to be able to run away quickly. And he thinks about what else he can do to prepare for this woman who knows his number and his callsign and his language until he sees Her—
DR FAUCHER: Hrothgar..? Are you okay?
Time stops, then falls backwards — back to when he first fell for Her. Her hair is still the same orange like the bright fire inside her that warmed their days, and her eyes are still the same turquoise like the cool pebbles from the rivers of their mountain home. The years have graced her gently, softening the edges around her cheeks and her hips, and blessing her with twin dimples that sink like dough into her soft skin whenever she smiles. He doesn’t hear her voice but he hears her words — the same words she once said as she leaned against him in their bed — and he watches her lips move with her smile like honey — he never liked sweets but it’s all he can smell and taste right now—
Gavrill has gone pale. He turns and walks out into the cold.
He hears Dr Faucher panic and run after him. He keeps walking. His chest clenches with every heartbeat. His head throbs. He thinks if the wind blows hard enough, it can easily make him slip on ice and he would not even know what has happened until he is lying on the ground.
Dr Faucher suddenly touches his shoulder. It makes Gavrill flinch and turn and seize her wrist hard. His heart is a frenzied bird rapidly thrumming against his ribcage, and his scowl is not of hatred but of a cornered animal’s confused fear. Yet his face is that of a killer, and he can see it in Dr Faucher’s eyes.
HROTHGAR: Is this a joke?
DR FAUCHER: Hroth… Hrothgar, that hurts—
He does not know if he should scream or run or look at Dr Faucher longer to bridge the differences between her and Her. People are staring at them. Gavrill is staring her down. Yet when Dr Faucher’s free hand reaches for Gavrill’s vice grip, her trembling touch is gentle against his hand.
DR FAUCHER: I… I only want to help you. Let’s go back inside, hmm?
The wind stings their faces. It dries Gavrill’s eyes. He thinks about how he never saw Her body but reminds himself that She is dead, that Rovin had buried Her with—
He throws Dr Faucher’s hand down and steps back.
GAVRILL: Why do you look like that?
Gavrill knows the answer is obvious. Dr Faucher was born like that. He still does not like the answer.
Dr Faucher replies with words Gavrill does not process. She ushers him inside, away from the cold, asking if he’s hungry or thirsty even though he can’t stomach her standing next to him. Dr Faucher sees this on his face, especially when the elevator arrives and Gavrill presses his back against the wall as far away from Dr Faucher as possible. She sighs and also steps back.
DR FAUCHER: Hrothgar? Can you please name five things in the elevator for me?
Gavrill thinks this is suspicious. Dr Faucher still insists on him to do so. For example: the buttons, the doors, and Gavrill himself.
GAVRILL: The only things left are you, the railings, the mirror, and the advertisements.
DR FAUCHER: That's good. Now… what are four things you can hear?
The elevator stops moving. The doors open. Dr Faucher holds them open and looks at Gavrill expectantly.
GAVRILL: My hearing is fine.
DR FAUCHER: I trust that your hearing is okay, but please still list four things you hear.
GAVRILL: …You, me, heaters, people.
DR FAUCHER: Good, good. Let’s get out of the elevator, unless you wish to conduct our session out here.
Gavrill waits for her to leave first. He refuses to have his back to her.
Gavrill’s therapy session takes place in the hotel’s private office space. The warm lights are slightly dimmed, the chairs are lined with cushions, a sofa is against the wall, and the blinds are drawn shut around them. Dr Faucher gestures Gavrill to take a seat. He does not. Arms crossed tight to his chest, his vision scurries to all corners of the room, under every cushion and table and seat. He checks the view behind the blinds before sealing them shut again and remains standing, still with his arms crossed, while staring at Dr Faucher.
Dr Faucher takes a seat on the other side of the table and leans back on her chair. She picks up a file and opens it to a document.
DR FAUCHER: All right, Hrothgar… would you please tell me about your experience prior to joining Helvetia?
Gavrill thinks doing that is stupid and dangerous. He asks her why. It is to get a good basis on his experience so that she can help him. But if he tells her, his children can die. Fuck he told her he has children. Once again, Dr Faucher reads his mind and says she will not harm his children. Gavrill thinks otherwise. He does not know why Dr Faucher would want to kill his children right now but if he thinks for long enough, he will find a reason, and that is reason enough to not trust her.
Before Dr Faucher can read Gavrill’s mind again, he asks her what she already knows about him. She writes into her document.
DR FAUCHER: It's only what your prison record contains: your criminal record, the botched trial, and your uncertain verdict. There’s nothing about what comes before.
GAVRILL: What did you just write?
She shows him her writing, neat and tidy: Keeps children safe.
Gavrill is certain that if this is all she knows about him, it is enough to do something bad to him. What is Dr Faucher even treating him for? He tells her that he is fine. She doubts him but quickly asks for him to cooperate to make the session easier for the both of them. Gavrill does not want to, not until he gets more answers, because why is a woman as gentle and as confusing and as soft as her in Helvetia?
Gavrill asks Dr Faucher why she is in Helvetia. She says she was recruited personally by the current director, Henri Arquette, whom she happened to be friends with. They worked in the same hospital in France until Henri suddenly stopped appearing one day. A few years later, he returned to offer her a job that was far more lucrative than her psychiatric position. She accepted. She was not aware of the true nature of Helvetia until after her first patient.
GAVRILL: Why did you accept? Now you’re treating killers instead of innocent civilians.
DR FAUCHER: You're calling yourself a killer? Seems reductive, especially since the first impression I have of you is a protective father. Every person has a different facet of themselves. You may not be fully innocent, but you are not fully a killer either.
GAVRILL: You’re avoiding my question.
DR FAUCHER: I merely want to address something I noticed of you. But I agreed because I believed I could help more people this way, by protecting the minds of those who protect the innocent.
GAVRILL: Hm.
DR FAUCHER: Don’t like that answer?
GAVRILL: I didn’t say anything. Are we done here?
DR FAUCHER: We've barely just started… If you wish to finish here, how about we grab an early lunch?
GAVRILL: No. What do I need to do to get my pay?
DR FAUCHER: Hm, if I said you have to get lunch with me, would you?
Gavrill stares at her. His heart quickens again.
DR FAUCHER: Too fast? Never mind. How about this then? We can pick up some food together, and I'll let you go home for the week.
Gavrill is silent. He thinks that if it means spending less time with her, that is a smaller chance of her learning too much about him and him learning too much about her.
GAVRILL: …Fine.
Dr Faucher takes him to an upscale French cafe: one that doubles as a patisserie and a restaurant. She waits for Gavrill by the door to make sure he does not run away. The two are seated and are handed a menu each. For a second, the price makes him forget about Dr Faucher. He decides he is definitely not getting anything—
DR FAUCHER: Ah, you know what? My treat!
GAVRILL: …Do you do this with all your patients?
DR FAUCHER: I do, especially with cases that are more difficult to persuade. Or would you be more comfortable if I said I didn't?
Gavrill does not want to say no to a free meal. He also does not want to trust Dr Faucher enough to let her give him a free meal. He compromises by ordering the same three-course meal as her. It would be harder to poison him that way. It was worth the free meal being made of nearly nothing but a detestable ingredient: eggs.
The two wait for their orders. Dr Faucher looks at Gavrill’s wedding band on his finger.
DR FAUCHER: So… I know you definitely aren't from here. Where did you come from? Do you have a partner?
Gavrill stiffens and hides his wedding band. Dr Faucher repeats that her questions are only for the sake of getting to know him better. It would help her treat him better and it may alleviate any worries Gavrill has moving forward. But Gavrill knows that what Dr Faucher knows is what Helvetia knows. Neither of them need to know more about him; anything he tells her can be used against his children and himself.
DR FAUCHER: I promise you, if I end up using anything against you, you can burn me at the stake.
How does Dr Faucher keep reading his mind? Gavrill scowls at her.
Dr Faucher adds that Helvetia has no reason to betray Gavrill: they went through the trouble of getting him out of prison and the trouble of hiring a therapist like herself. This makes sense to Gavrill. He does not like that. So he asks her about the Helvetia agent who was the reason he went to prison for ten years.
GAVRILL: Agent Eve. That’s what Henri called her. Female. Brown skin. Long black hair. She had this… mask of a ram with a lot of eyes and horns. She used that to turn into me. That’s how she framed me. Do you know her?
Dr Faucher knows Agent Eve. She shares how Agent Eve was acting out of her own accord, and how she rarely appears in any of Helvetia’s headquarters. Gavrill does not wish to catch her, so he is fine with this. He only wants her far away from his family.
Dr Faucher has also treated Agent Eve before. She says that Agent Eve feels guilty about everything. But sometimes, patients lie. That was why treatment with Agent Eve was not effective: Dr Faucher knew she was not telling the full truth, yet Agent Eve kept insisting it was all a mistake. Helvetia wanted to fire her but Arquette did not want to. He believes in using a lesser evil to fight a greater one. Dr Faucher does not. She believes that justice will be dealt with time.
DR FAUCHER: Though… I do want to ask, when did this happen?
GAVRILL: You don’t know?
DR FAUCHER: Let me rephrase. I know about her shooting your wife, but about your imprisonment. What caused it?
Time stops again. Gavrill stares at Dr Faucher. He barely pulls his voice out.
GAVRILL: She also shot my wife?
Dr Faucher covers her mouth.
DR FAUCHER: I thought you knew. What… what else did she do?
GAVRILL: Why? Why did she kill her?! So you do know more about me! You already know I had a partner. You already know she was killed by Eve. You know where that happened so you already know where I’m from!!
Dr Faucher swears left and right that she did not want to assume, that she only wanted to hear it all from him, and that she will tell him anything he wants to know, but Gavrill thinks this is bullshit and stands to leave. She tries to stop him, saying that a document of past records does not give her a full picture of him. Gavrill remembers the document she wrote in and demands her to tell him everything she knows about him, now.
She knows he is an Ingush refugee. He has three children and his wife was a casualty of a sabotaged operation — she assures him that Helvetia was sabotaged and that Agent Eve was the one solely responsible for her death. Helvetia continued to monitor him as he was a civilian casualty of the operation. She knows he went to prison and was bailed out by Henri, but does not know the circumstances that imprisoned him.
The more Dr Faucher speaks, the more Gavrill’s mind spins. It keeps spinning until it funnels into a drop of realisation.
GAVRILL: If Helvetia killed my wife, then what about my—
Gavrill’s voice sharpens and breaks. He presses his lips together. His face morphs. Suddenly there's a sadness in his eyes that cannot bear to pull out the truth from the guilt and grief in his gut to his lips. Dr Faucher watches his expression shift. She exhales and places her hands on his shoulders. He flinches away.
DR FAUCHER: Hrothgar… I'm sorry for hiding things from you. I thought you'd feel better if you thought I only knew things you told me.
GAVRILL: I don’t trust you.
Yet he stares at her with betrayal, as if he once did.
He looks around him. He's trapped by this stupid, fancy restaurant bullshit, trapped by the same company that killed his family and ruined his life and put him in a stupid, fancy suit. He turns and pushes the door open. Cold wind cuts into his cheeks and wet eyes. He welcomes it. He stands outside the store, pinching his nose bridge and covering his face with his hand. He takes in a sharp breath of crisp, cool air and closes his eyes.
A few seconds pass. Gavrill hears the door open.
DR FAUCHER: I'm really sorry. I'm sorry, okay? Just… one moment, please? Turn around?
He takes a breath. He pulls his hand away from his face, turns around, and glares sadly at Dr Faucher. She holds out a takeout bag of warm food to him.
DR FAUCHER: I won't lie to you about what I know about you anymore, okay? I only wanted to make things better for you, and it looks like I've only hurt you more…
Gavrill looks at the bag, then looks back at her.
GAVRILL: Do you know what my wife looked like?
DR FAUCHER: Not at all… All I heard was that she was innocent, and that she had a family who wouldn't be able to see her come home.
He presses his lips together again. He snatches the bag from her hands.
GAVRILL: Look in the mirror.
Gavrill turns around and goes home.
After his children come home, they have dinner. He calls it an early night. He retreats to his own bedroom, staring at a dark wall with a bottle in his hand, sitting atop his bed that hides suitcases of headscarves and baby clothes he never unpacked.
—
PATIENT: Gavrill Vorobyev, aka Agent HROTHGAR
THERAPIST: Dr Marie-Anne Faucher, aka Agent SCARLET
Second Session
1 March 2017
It is another Wednesday morning and Gavrill Vorobyev is back at the hotel. Dr Faucher greets him with the same smile and the same wave. She’s a liar, Gavrill thinks. She’s a liar, Gavrill reminds himself. He holds on to this belief as he follows behind her to the meeting room. He holds on to what happened last week as he watches her long, soft orange hair sway as she walks, smells the sweet scent of strawberries and watermelon trailing behind her, and stares at her blue-green eyes when she looks over her shoulder to check on him. She’s a liar, Gavrill thinks with a frown. She’s a liar.
Dr Faucher takes her seat in the meeting room. Gavrill inspects the entire room again — the windows, the blinds, the undersides of tables and chairs — and finishes by standing a distance away from Dr Faucher with his arms crossed against his chest. She asks if he will take a seat.
He tells himself to shake his head. Instead, his eyes search for a chair not too close to her, but still within a professional distance to talk to each other. Because this is part of the job, he rationalises. Because he needs to put food on the table for his children, and because he wants his eldest child to stop sacrificing themselves for the family, he realises with a reluctant bitterness.
After finding a chair, Gavrill looks at Dr Faucher. He does not look away from her as he pulls the chair out and slinks into it. Dr Faucher smiles.
DR FAUCHER: Has anything new happened in the past week, Hrothgar?
Gavrill says nothing. He shakes his head.
DR FAUCHER: Then… how are your children doing?
GAVRILL: …Fine.
DR FAUCHER: You don’t want to talk about them?
GAVRILL: Why are you so curious about them?
DR FAUCHER: I want you to open up about your life and yourself. I won't share details of you with anyone else.
Gavrill narrows his eyes. Dr Faucher sighs. She questions if he is cautious because he does not want to share information about himself with Helvetia, or because he does not trust her. Gavrill says it is for both reasons. He is suspicious, even after Dr Faucher assures him that no information about his children will go on record.
GAVRILL: Why is it so important for you to know about my life? What are you even helping me with? I don't need help with anything. My life is fine.
DR FAUCHER: Right… Well, you display very clear signs of paranoia, above average levels of it. Helvetia wants to ensure that you are psychologically sound before you take on any serious operations.
GAVRILL: So what? Everyone gets paranoid. It's good for operations. It's how you survive.
DR FAUCHER: Not when it bleeds into your day-to-day life.
GAVRILL: One mistake can kill my children.
DR FAUCHER: And you constantly being vigilant around them will only hurt your relationship with them. Have you ever noticed tension in your interactions with them?
GAVRILL: How do you know?
DR FAUCHER: It's just an assumption! I didn't spend a decade of my life training in psychiatry for no reason, you know.
Gavrill looks away. He stays quiet for some time before looking back at Dr Faucher. When he speaks, his voice loses all aggression.
GAVRILL: …What else do you think will happen to my children because of me?
DR FAUCHER: Should you keep going down this path, your children may end up distancing themselves from you. They may lie to you, put up walls and argue with you, or hide any problems from you.
Gavrill pauses. His chest clenches. His gaze towards Dr Faucher softens. He wonders if he can find guidance in her gentle eyes.
GAVRILL: Why? I'm always there for them. I try to be.
DR FAUCHER: But in the eyes of children who only saw a father that was gone for most of their lives, they may not be able to see the same.
GAVRILL: But they know it's not my fault. They know I'm innocent.
DR FAUCHER: They know that, yes. But it doesn't erase the fact that you weren't there for so long. It’s not your fault, but it’s still your responsibility.
It’s like he’s talking to Her again. There she is, sat across him at the dining table in their small flat, beneath the bulb as yellow as the apartment lights glowing through the window. It is silent after she speaks — a rare silence accompanied only by the faint buzzing of the fridge. He weighs her words as he always does, contemplating them from all angles as he carefully turns them in his mind. She has always been so clever with her words — she always said the right things at the right time. As he thinks, his eyes drift past her towards the door to their sleeping children’s bedroom. They only return to her once he finds the right words to say.
GAVRILL: …Mm. You’re right.
Gavrill takes a deep breath and sighs. The memory melts into the plain, textured wallpaper of the meeting room, leaving only Dr Faucher’s orange hair and blue-green eyes behind. Gavrill stares at her. He wants to hold on to all of it. He wants to hold on to her compassion and remember what it is like to trust again.
He decides to ask Dr Faucher if it really was Agent Eve who killed Leyna. Dr Faucher says that it was what Agent Eve told her. Gavrill mentions the distrust in Dr Faucher’s words. Indeed, Dr Faucher does not trust Agent Eve as she caused the deaths of innocents. Though her job is to ease the minds of disturbed people such as Agent Eve, she cannot forgive Agent Eve for what she has done. Gavrill asks if Agent Eve works with the Russian Federation. Dr Faucher’s personal opinion is that she would not be surprised if she did as her alliances have always been shaky. However, Dr Faucher does not know the nature of Agent Eve’s tasks, and she has stopped treating Agent Eve ever since she stopped seeing Dr Faucher, so she cannot be sure.
In his mind, Gavrill concludes that either Helvetia killed Leyna by accident, or Agent Eve was recruited by the Russian Federation to kill Leyna. Whatever it is, Eve is the only real immediate threat, and she is nowhere to be seen or found. Perhaps this is for the better. Perhaps he can take Dr Faucher for her word, for now.
He does not notice how his crossed arms are beginning to relax.
Dr Faucher asks Gavrill how he feels about this information. He shrugs. She asks if he has something to vent out instead. Gavrill shakes his head as self-pity does nothing. However, Dr Faucher reminds him there is a difference between self-pity and talking about his past experiences. The latter is much better than other coping mechanisms such as smoking, drinking, or self-harm. Gavrill thinks back to him sitting atop his bed with a bottle in his hand. His brows twitch.
GAVRILL: …I don't have anything to vent about. What else can I tell you to get better? I’m only doing this for my children.
Dr Faucher asks Gavrill what it feels like to care for his children. Gavrill thinks this is a strange question, but he answers regardless. He carefully picks his words to avoid revealing more than he needs to. Yet, unbeknownst to him, his joys and his worries bloom from the tone of his voice and the corners of his lips. He is grateful to be able to be fully present with his children and never takes it for granted. However, he can only be confident in his youngest child feeling the same way. His eldest child is very inexpressive — he cannot tell what they feel or want. On the other hand, his middle child is a very moody teenager. It is as if he always wants to fight, despite how Gavrill tries to talk calmly to him.
Dr Faucher listens, as patient and understanding as She always is. She asks if Gavrill wants to fix things between his eldest and middle child.
GAVRILL: Of course.
DR FAUCHER: Then that change has to start with you. It's easier to change yourself than it is to change others, and your children will have no incentive to change themselves if you don't.
A memory of Gavrill wading through his sea of guilt surfaces. He was young. So was She. He told her that his hands were stained with blood and he did not deserve to have them washed. Yet, she still reached out to him. She acknowledged his resolve to right his wrongs, but in the storm of war the two of them had known since birth, she refused to let the weight of death drown him. She was the beacon who pulled him out of the water. She was the fire who burned away his hate and warmed the cold left behind. She melted him so that he could smelt himself into something new and when the storm raged again, it was him who sheltered her from the rain.
GAVRILL: …Okay. So what do I do to change?
DR FAUCHER: For one, practise being more open with the people in your life, whether it’s by talking about your experiences, your feelings, and even your fears. Why don't we practise now?
Dr Faucher moves to sit directly across Gavrill. His heart skips a beat. His eyes flit around for an escape, but they are continually drawn to Dr Faucher and her blue-green eyes.
DR FAUCHER: Name what you’re feeling right now.
GAVRILL: …I don’t know.
DR FAUCHER: Hmm… okay. Close your eyes for me?
GAVRILL: What are you going to do?
DR FAUCHER: I want you to recognise tension and discomfort in your body. More often than not, physical symptoms manifest as a result of unaddressed emotions.
GAVRILL: Everything is sore and tense. I’m old.
Why is he joking with Dr Faucher? He shuts his mouth tight.
DR FAUCHER: Then lean back against the seat, or even lie down on the sofa. You aren't any older than I am, yet I don't feel the tension as badly.
GAVRILL: How old are you?
DR FAUCHER: Forty-one, forty-two this year.
Gavrill knows he does not have to respond. He does not need to follow-up. He should not, if anything, if he wants to keep Helvetia far away from his personal life.
GAVRILL: Oh. I’m jealous. When?
DR FAUCHER: Haha! May. The eighteenth. Your turn: I was only given your birth year.
GAVRILL: …August twenty-five.
Gavrill cannot stop words from spilling out of his mouth in front of this woman whom he now knows is a few months older than he is, just like She was. His children’s ages fall out of his mouth next — nineteen, sixteen, and twelve — and he learns that Dr Faucher does not have any children, though she would like to someday.
DR FAUCHER: Maybe with the right man? Someone who’d make a loving and doting father…
Gavrill wonders if Dr Faucher is looking straight into his eyes, or if it is him who is looking at her too closely. Nevertheless, he cannot find the urge to look away. Dr Faucher does not break eye contact, either.
He asks if Dr Faucher is unmarried. He’s surprised she might be, that’s all. She confirms that she is: she was engaged once, but she called it off. Her fiance did something stupid. But there is someone Dr Faucher raised like her own daughter: Agent Ogneya — the poor girl, Dr Faucher calls her. During an operation fourteen years ago, Dr Faucher and her team learned that Ogneya’s parents were casualties of something unnatural. Ogneya was sixteen at the time. Dr Faucher decided to pick her up instead of permanently relieving her of her memory. Ever since, she made sure to take very good care of her. She’s proud of her — proud enough to take out her phone and show Gavrill pictures of the two of them travelling through Europe together.
Gavrill looks over. Ogneya is awkward and stiff in the photos, but maybe she’s just camera shy or isn’t used to such lavish tourism. She smiles regardless, and so does Dr Faucher. Soon, Gavrill realises he too is smiling. He swallows it away and asks Dr Faucher what it is he’s supposed to be doing.
She reminds him to close his eyes and relax. He doesn’t. He can’t. Not in this hotel meeting room where it’s just him and her and the blinded windows. He can only relax at home.
DR FAUCHER: Would you rather bring me to your home then?
That’s worse. The image of Dr Faucher sitting next to him on the family couch with that smile and the looming possibility of his children walking in makes him quick to respond: he wants to keep work as far away from home as possible. He swears this to himself. It’s a line he’ll never cross.
DR FAUCHER: You worry about your children, yes? Enough so that they might call you out on it?
Dr Faucher suddenly stands. Gavrill jerks. She gets a tearable form, writes in it, and hands Gavrill a slip. She has prescribed him six months worth of Valium: a short-term, fast-acting drug. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t prescribe medication this strong. However, she assures him that he can take Valium whenever he feels hopelessly worried about his children as it alleviates anxiety.
Gavrill is impressed. He never knew there is an easy solution for a problem he has had for over a decade. He asks how he should take Valium. Dr Faucher says he is to take one five-milligram tablet three times a day, or whenever he feels his anxiety is worsening, at a maximum of six tablets a day.
Gavrill takes out a small notepad with a pen from his pocket. He writes down what Dr Faucher says. She watches him and smiles.
DR FAUCHER: Don’t worry. I’ll text you every day in case you forget.
Gavrill holds up a hand. He says she doesn’t have to. He wonders if he imagined the flash of a frown on her face. But the moment passes in a blink and she tells him that Helvetia will subsidise the medication’s cost.
GAVRILL: Helvetia hasn't paid me yet. How should I trust them to subsidise my medicine?
DR FAUCHER: You won't have to pay a dime. And it will be on my account if they deny the claim.
Gavrill pauses. That’s generous of her. Almost suspiciously so. But she has been nothing but patient, kind, and generous — no. Gavrill purses his lips. They’ve only spoken three times. It’s probably the protocol for denied claims. Surely Helvetia will subsidise their own therapist.
Gavrill thanks Dr Faucher and stands to leave. She raises her hand. Is her smile warmer? Maybe Gavrill is imagining things again.
DR FAUCHER: How about we go out for lunch again? Surely the food I got you last time was good, no?
GAVRILL: I don't like eggs. And I don't want you to always buy me lunch.
DR FAUCHER: While Helvetia is withholding your pay, this is the least I can do, no? And I could always take you somewhere without eggs.
Gavrill goes silent. It is a free meal, he thinks.
And it is with a pleasant lady.
GAVRILL: …Fine.
Dr Faucher beams. Eager, she leads him to the elevator. She asks about his preferences, his favourites. Gavrill doesn’t want to say ‘seafood’ and risk ending up at either one of Hrodwyn’s fish-oriented workplaces — Greenwell Wet Market or The Sushi Place. He tells Dr Faucher no eggs and leaves it at that.
DR FAUCHER: Okay… let me think then. This is my first time in Winnipeg, but I have some suggestions for places.
GAVRILL: First time? So you’ve been staying in Winnipeg for a week? Why?
DR FAUCHER: For you. I want to be well-prepared to get to know you better, and to bring you around to nicer places as well.
Dr Faucher’s smile grows. She calls the elevator. Gavrill furrows his brows and stares at her in disbelief. But he’s quick to glance away before the heat in his cheeks engulfs his face.
GAVRILL: There’s no need for that.
DR FAUCHER: I’m only doing you a kindness!
GAVRILL: Why do you want to so much?
DR FAUCHER: Because you sound like someone who needs that kindness. You've lived a hard life.
GAVRILL: …Oh.
Gavrill frowns and fully faces away from Dr Faucher, flushed red in the face. He hears Dr Faucher laugh lightly.
DR FAUCHER: You don’t have to be so shy around me.
GAVRILL: If you haven’t chosen a place, I’m going home.
DR FAUCHER: Okay, okay! Just follow me then.
The elevator arrives. Dr Faucher and Gavrill enter it side-by-side.
—
PATIENT: Gavrill Vorobyev, aka Agent HROTHGAR
THERAPIST: Dr Marie-Anne Faucher, aka Agent SCARLET
Third Session
8 March 2017
It is the third Wednesday morning and Gavrill Vorobyev is holding a paper bag. In it is a small stack of chepalgash and a small container of yoghurt as a dip. It’s what he made with Hygd four days ago for Leyna’s birthday. He wonders if Dr Faucher would like it as a gift.
He brought the homemade food at a whim. He wanted to repay her kindness somehow. She has treated him to two meals now, and a third may be in order — he swears he’s only going off what Dr Faucher said last week and nothing more. And if they may eat lunch together again, he should comb his hair and dress more neatly for once, especially with how Dr Faucher always looks so elegant.
Gavrill arrives at the hotel at the same time he did last week, but waiting for Dr Faucher feels longer than before. He checks his phone and reads the last messages she sent him.
DR FAUCHER: Same time, same place?
GAVRILL: Okay.
DR FAUCHER: I’ll see you tomorrow!
That’s when Dr Faucher arrives. She makes the same smile and the same wave but this time, she also looks him up and down.
DR FAUCHER: Oh, look at you — did you just come here after a date?
Gavrill regrets everything. He awkwardly raises his wedding band and mumbles a no. Before Dr Faucher can press further, he shoves the paper bag in her direction and mumbles some more about treating her for a change, about how he cooked with his daughter, about how there were a lot of leftovers and that he hopes she doesn’t mind leftovers. He only realises that his eyes have been slowly drifting to the ground when Dr Faucher’s laugh makes him look up.
DR FAUCHER: Thank you, Hrothgar. You didn’t have to… you really are a kind man.
Gavrill mumbles some more, shakes his head, and feels a small smile growing on his lips. Fine. He’ll let it happen, just this once. He did just give a gift, after all.
Dr Faucher leads Gavrill to the hotel’s meeting room. They take their seats across each other. Dr Faucher begins the session by asking Gavrill how his week has been.
GAVRILL: The same. Are you bored of Winnipeg yet?
DR FAUCHER: No. My friend lives here, after all!
GAVRILL: You have a friend here?
DR FAUCHER: Hehe, could I call you my friend in that case?
GAVRILL: I… guess.
DR FAUCHER: In which case, yes: my friend does live in Winnipeg.
GAVRILL: We’ve barely talked. Why would you call me that?
DR FAUCHER: Because I want to befriend you, even outside of work.
GAVRILL: …Do you do that with other Helvetia agents, too?
DR FAUCHER: The others in your unit? No. I have with other agents, but none really stuck. Henri doesn't count because I was already friends with him before either of us joined Helvetia. There is Agent Ognyena… but she’s a special case.
GAVRILL: Then don’t count on this to stick.
DR FAUCHER: Why not? You’re special!
GAVRILL: Why?
DR FAUCHER: I just have a feeling this time…
She continues with small talk. Has Gavrill started working outside of Helvetia? What workplace does he have in mind? Does he think his previous workplace will take him back? With each question, Gavrill’s shoulders relax more. He talks about his eldest working where he used to work and wanting to work there again, but he doesn't want to miss sending his kids to school every day. He hasn’t done that enough times in his life. He only has so much time left to do so.
DR FAUCHER: So why not coast off of Helvetia's paychecks? Once you get the clear from me, you'll be able to live very comfortably.
GAVRILL: I’ll believe it when I see it with my own eyes.
DR FAUCHER: If you say so… but I don't live such a comfortable life on pennies.
GAVRILL: Hm. You seem like the type who grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth.
DR FAUCHER: And I use that upbringing to bring others up, no?
GAVRILL: Never said you didn’t.
DR FAUCHER: Hehe, I get the accusation that I don't do enough with the money I was born with.
GAVRILL: That can be true. From who?
DR FAUCHER: Just a stranger who looks at me for too long, or someone who doesn't understand me well enough.
GAVRILL: What strangers say doesn’t matter. What matters is what people we care about say. We're too old to worry about what strangers think. That’s what I try to tell myself every time I drop the kids off at school… Some teachers and parents probably still think I’m a serial killer.
DR FAUCHER: That’s a good philosophy to live by! Hehe, what do you think of me, then?
GAVRILL: You talk a lot. You’re too welcoming for this kind of job.
DR FAUCHER: What do you mean, too welcoming?
Gavrill rests his elbows on the table and leans on them towards Dr Faucher. His face darkens. He thinks about his past self, about the people his past self were friends with.
GAVRILL: You know I could be a murderer. You invited me to lunch on our first meeting. That’s dangerous.
DR FAUCHER: Would a murderer care so much about his children to risk going to jail again?
GAVRILL: Some murderers have loved ones. Some believe they’re fighting the right fight.
DR FAUCHER: And I’m a good judge of character. I know when to step away from a lost cause. You are far from one.
Gavrill pauses. He makes a short, ironic laugh. Sure, he says, he’s not a lost cause. He’s just a father who abandoned his kids for ten years and will never truly connect with them. He knows it’s not his fault but, like Dr Faucher said last week, taking responsibility for his absence still falls on his shoulders. In response, Dr Faucher tells him he has very little to blame himself for. More self-flagellation is only going to make fixing things harder.
GAVRILL: Self-flagellation..? My Russian is not that good…
DR FAUCHER: Self-blame, dear.
What did she just call him?
GAVRILL: …Oh. Mm. How do you stop doing that? It's hard not to when everything reminds me of what I could've or should've done. I know it's in the past and I can't change it, but it's… always there. In the back of my mind
DR FAUCHER: It sounds like it’s time for a little mental reframing. What usually reminds you of those thoughts?
GAVRILL: Er… my eldest doesn’t want to stop working. They don’t trust me to support the family. That’s one.
DR FAUCHER: Why do you think they continue to work? Why do you think they don't trust you for support?
GAVRILL: I was gone for ten years of their life. They've been working since they were 13 for when they’ll have to move out of the orphanage, and for their siblings' tuition for university or college. I was never there in their life, not as much as I should’ve been, so of course they don't trust me. I can also die on the job anytime. That’s even more reason to not trust me. I wouldn’t, either.
DR FAUCHER: How about thinking of it this way? Both of you are working hard to support a family you both love. The more you work and the more you come home, the more your eldest will be able to slowly but surely trust you.
GAVRILL: That is what I’m hoping for, yes.
DR FAUCHER: Things take a long time. Your freedom took just as long. It will turn out all right.
Gavrill goes quiet. Being free from bars to live and eat and sleep with his children is still surreal, as surreal as the woman only some centimetres away from him. He gazes at the room around him and gazes at Dr Faucher to make sure that this indeed is all real.
GAVRILL: I guess. I hope it’ll turn out all right.
DR FAUCHER: Can you repeat that two more times for me?
GAVRILL: …What?
Gavrill gazes at Dr Faucher and watches her smile.
DR FAUCHER: It will turn out all right. Repeat that?
He reminds himself that he’s only here to get paid. And if this is what it takes…
GAVRILL: …It will turn out all right. It will turn out all right.
Dr Faucher smiles even brighter, like a gentle beacon. He doesn’t want to, but he can’t help but feel warmed.
She gives him his next task: repeat the sentence every day to himself. She’ll text him if he needs a reminder. Gavrill grimaces at the corniness, but Dr Faucher argues that it’s necessary if he can’t actively remember that himself. Gavrill can’t argue against that. He won’t argue against reminders from Dr Faucher herself, either.
Dr Faucher moves on to ask Gavrill about the effects of his medication. Gavrill notes its strength: it works, but it leaves him drowsy to the point of constant brain fog, sluggishness, and confusion. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want to fully turn off his senses from danger, especially when operations are unpredictable. Dr Faucher suggests him to taper off his medication and offers milder anti-psychotics that’ll help with calmness. They’ll still make him drowsy, but he’ll be able to take them as needed. Gavrill prefers that, so Dr Faucher prescribes him with risperidone. Like before, he should avoid alcohol and he should inform her of any side effects. She tells him that he can keep his remaining Valium or give it to her next week. She finishes writing her prescription slip and hands it to Gavrill. He thanks her.
DR FAUCHER: Now! How about we have lunch again?
GAVRILL: That’s all for today?
DR FAUCHER: Hehe, what? Wanted to spend more time in the office with me?
GAVRILL: No, I was just… wondering. Erm. Lunch now is fine. Anything’s fine.
Gavrill feels his cheeks warm. Why is he anticipating these lunches? It’s not like they go well… though he does wonder what restaurant she’ll take him to for today. Dr Faucher reads his mind and lists off restaurants she was recommended by Agata — aka Agent Imperator, whom he hasn’t met — and asks Gavrill which he’s interested in. There is only one seafood restaurant and it isn’t the one Hrodwyn works at. He makes his choice quickly.
DR FAUCHER: Hehe, so seafood must be your favourite cuisine!
He concedes with a nod and a smile.
Dr Faucher is the one who drives the two of them in an expensive car to the seafood restaurant in Chinatown. Between Dr Faucher taking wrong turns and Gavrill gripping onto his seat, the two fill the whole ride with conversation. The line between work and life remains as stark as ever in Gavrill’s mind, but that doesn’t mean he can’t share simple things like what time he needs to be home by to pick his children up from school. Or what his children’s distinct and unique personalities are like. Or what Leyna was like, and how he sees her in each of his children. He talks about Leyna’s linguistic studies and her imaginative world filled with rich stories she’d tell the children during bedtime. And then he’s talking about how he likes painting and drawing because Dr Faucher encouraged him to continue Leyna’s stories. He’s not good enough to adapt them into a picture book yet, but he would like to one day. He promises Dr Faucher to tell her if he does.
The car comes to a dizzying halt in a parking lot. Gavrill leaves the car feeling dazed and light on his feet. The seafood restaurant is just ahead across the road. Behind him, Dr Faucher locks the car. She begins walking to the restaurant and the back of her orange hair comes into sight, fluttering in the wind like a field at sunset.
She looks over her shoulder at Gavrill, smiles, and waits for him. He hesitates. Then he smiles, small and bashful.
GAVRILL: …Thanks for taking me here. It's been over a decade since I had a meal with someone who wasn’t my kid or a criminal.
He thinks to himself: is this okay?
DR FAUCHER: Oh? Hehe, I’m glad to be your first in a while, then!
Maybe it is. It's hard to stamp out his spark when the person who sets his heart alight is almost here.
Gavrill squeezes his left hand, feeling his wedding band wrapped around his ring finger. He catches up to Dr Faucher to walk beside her and, by instinct, almost takes her hand. Instead, he stuffs both his hands into his pockets, but he lets his smile remain. He’s happy enough like this, he realises. He’s happy.
She reminds me of you, Gavrill thinks. That’s all. It’s nothing more than that.
GAVRILL: Mmhm. Me too. I’m glad it’s you, too.
—
[DOWNTIME ACTIVITY: GO TO THERAPY]
[CRITICAL SUCCESS: +6 SAN, NEW BOND WITH MARIE-ANN FAUCHER AT 4/7 POINTS]
—
Note: A therapist should not be open to giving you medication in the way Dr Faucher did. Please do not use anything from this story as a reference for proper psychiatric care.
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