20) Mental Health Day

I hadn't gone to my classes that day, I was ahead on everything, and I had decided to just take it easy for a while.

Scorn was keeping her distance but most of the animals didn't seem to mind going back to me feeding and taking care of them, after all, I had still been doing most mornings and on the weekends.

I tossed the Murder Geese off their nests to check for eggs for shipping. Checked the Cemani chicken coop for some eggs for breakfast. Cleaned Chester’s stall and played with the dogs for a while.

Then got the stuff out for canning, even with forcing fresh veggies onto the Royals and Scorn eating her share I would have to can some stuff to keep it from rotting in the field. And the kids thought they didn’t have to deal with farm produce being forced on them after the fall. Such innocents.

My other friends had learned better.

That’s when I got the text from Shimmer.

From: Shimshimsherri

[ You need to make an appointment with a therapist. You need to talk to someone. ]

“Oh, I’m going to have to nip this in the bud.”

[I’m fine. Your sister and I slept together last night so I’m all better.]

The three dots indicating someone was writing appeared and vanished several times. I went back to getting organizing the canning stuff. Did I want to make up a big pot of spaghetti sauce and can it?

My phone rang. Shimshimsherri. I put her on speaker. “Hello.”

"Are you serious? I tried to call her and she let it go to her mailbox, but that's normal. You know she doesn't like people, right? Tell her to call me or I'm coming out there. No, forget it. I’m coming out there-”

She finally took a breath long enough for me to interrupt. “All she did was lie down beside me and hold me. That's why I'm good. It was really sweet of her."

Then I ended the call. I let the next two calls go to my mailbox.

A portal opened up in front of my house, Shimmer stomped out of it. Manifest stuck his head out, looked at me looking at him from the kitchen window and we exchanged nods.

Shimmer didn't go to my house but instead continued by to stomp onward to her foster sister’s trailer a few hundred feet away. I could hear her knocking on its door from my house.

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Twenties minutes later she walked in my front door and sat down at the kitchen table with a stunned look on her face. “It would be so weird if you two got together, I feel like I should be threatening you. Either that or warning you.”

I nodded, “You had a great chance of saying I was a dead man if I hurt her.”

She gave me a dirty look and carefully kept her feelings from projecting at me.

That was new. "Do you have some kind of mental blocker on or something?"

She blushed. "I've been training with Carol. It's a good idea for more than just you."

Then she seemed to make some kind of connection. "You could try talking with her, she at least can tell when you are trying to throw her off. You need to talk to someone. Your medical records show that you went to a children's therapist for eight weeks after you Triggered and nothing since then.”

She stood up as if to block me from running. “Being a hero is stressful, and your powers… aren't fun. You have been dealing with things I can’t even imagine. Please, I’m worried about you. Stop being a guy when I know you have to be hurting.”

Shimmer looked to the side. "I saw some things when you were in my head, with all the feelings associated with them. I didn't have the context to understand them at the time. But I know just using your power to save me made you remember other times it didn’t work and how much that hurt you. You need help.”

She looked me in the eye as she crossed her arms. “I’ll make it an order if I have to."

I sighed "You had me at the caring and concerned part. You want to learn how to can?”

She looked at the jars, "Is that…?" Some feelings of surprise and shame leaked through our connection.

“Wait, what did you think they were for?”

The teenager blushed. "I'm sorry, I thought it was for some kind of home brewing.”

Shaking my head at her I pulled the five gallon jug from the pantry I used to refill the pitcher for the fridge. "You do brews in big jugs, using little jars like that would be too much work. I'll show you the fermentation cellar later on.”

She called Fable, because the summoner liked handy crafts, and Scorn because it was something she thought her foster sister should learn how if she insisted on living on her own in the wilderness.

Fable came in on the subway ready to record with her phone to record everything. Scorn came in with a faint blush and refused to look me in the eye. I decided not to bring up the previous night since it would piss her off more than it would amuse me.

I did do up several jars of heavily spiced and herbed spaghetti sauce and sent a jar back home with each of the girls. They also seemed interested in an afternoon in the future making fruit preserves, or at least Scorn and Fable did, I think Shimmer just wanted to get to spend some more time with her foster sister.

Shortly after they left I also made an appointment with one of the recommended therapists from the list the Mice sent me on the phone. An actual doctor of psychology who specializes in Supers, mainly children.

Kelly, the second person I had managed to bring back from the dead, was seeing him.

He also saw adults as well, and most importantly, the Mice sent me the information that my Official Concentric City licensed Superhero contract would cover the cost of the therapy session even though he didn't work at an affiliated hospital. The Mice even filled out the forms for me to get the billing covered.

"Thanks, guys, you could have left me an excuse to put it off for a little longer."

They weren't allowed to be in the rooms of the house below the attic, but I knew they had taken over the hollow spaces inside the walls. I had long since realized that anything I said out loud would be heard and noted by them. But they were animals, people smart animals, but they just didn’t care about most of the things I said.

Other than being concerned about my health and well being.

Which is why my Mom called me that afternoon to check in on me. The Mice had contacted her.

Still, it was nice to talk to my parents for a bit. It gave a sense of normalcy for a bit.

I rang the dinner triangle later that night, Scorn showed up a little later for a Spaghetti and venison sausage dinner. We sat on the front porch after dinner and I opened up a bottle of the mead I had made from the hives I used to have before a bus sized bear got to them.

There was not enough money in the world for me to take it in on the farm. Gus the bear was at the zoo waving for donuts tossed by the dozens.

Scorn went back to her trailer after the drink, I knew better than to press, and I think she was socialized out for the day. Truth was, so was I.