Here Comes The Son (Ghost Band / Papa Emeritus fic)

Cry For Absolution

Lydia lowered her eyes as Copia sobbed, his heart breaking for his lost brother. This was only their fourth session and she was surprised at the ease with which he went to his feelings. Another preconception, perhaps, but she had expected his sadness to be buried deeper than it actually was. This was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve - it was small wonder it was so bruised.

Right now, and understandably, he was focused on his grief for Terzo but she had noticed something else in his description of his childhood ordeal. Something obvious, but had been with him so long that she wondered if he had even registered it - his fear of imprisonment. She had vague information given to her by Imperator when she had contacted her and asked if she would possibly take Copia as a client. It had struck her as odd at the time that Imperator had not asked the question as if it had been his decision and she was almost surprised when the call to arrange an initial session finally came from him instead of Imperator.

All she knew prior to his arrival was little more than what anyone in the Ministry knew - Copia had been kidnapped from backstage at a ritual and held in a crypt beneath an abandoned church, until he was found. No one knew who had taken him, how he had been found or even exactly how long he had been held but she had worked out that between the last and incomplete ritual and returning to the Ministry had been less than a week. Although, she recognised, more than long enough for his feelings of terror to re-emerge. As he had described himself - trapped in the oubliette, a horrible pit designed for death, where no one knew where he was and believing he might die there, lost, forgotten. At the very last moment, he had glossed over those awful feelings and sunk into the very real but safer feelings of grief for his brother.

She didn't doubt that his feelings for grief were real, nor that he had so far been unable to grieve properly for him, but she knew he was avoiding the other feelings. The only way to break through the pain was to go to those feelings. It was in that moment, she had an inspired thought. He literally could go to the feelings. He could show her the oubliette. It would either still be there, probably locked tight to prevent another accident, or it would be filled in and destroyed. Either way, the location would be there and he might benefit from some closure. She briefly wondered if he had been back since, but she sincerely doubted it.

As his sobs quietened, decreasing to soft sniffles, Lydia looked up and waited for him to meet her gaze.

"You must think..." Copia paused; it was an automatic response to say she would think him pathetic, but in reality he thought it of himself and was merely projecting it onto her. "No, it's me," he sighed. "I think I'm pathetic."
"But you know I don't think that?" She asked.

He nodded silently.

"But someone else put that thought there at some point?"
"How do you know all this?" He finally asked. "I mean, did anyone tell you?"
"No, but if they did, who would tell me?"

Copia leaned his left arm on the arm of the chair and dropped his chin into his hand. Shrugging awkwardly with the other, he sighed.

"There isn't anyone who would know."
"Except the person who put those thoughts there."
"Seriously, how do you know all this?" He asked again.
"Would it help you to know that there's nothing unusual about your reactions? The things you've discussed with me so far, like your kidnapping, your childhood, your parents, your brother," she added softly. "None of it makes you act any differently to how anyone else would in the exact same situation."
"You've seen many people in the exact same situation?" Copia raised a surprised eyebrow.

Lydia offered a light laugh.

"Not exactly the same, no," she shook her head. "But, trauma is trauma and you've experienced a lot."

Copia rolled his eyes.

"I've barely started," he sighed heavily.
"I can see that," she offered an empathic smile. "It sounds like you loved Terzo very much."