Sane // A Winter Soldier Story

chapter one // therapy

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"In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die. And where you invest your love, you invest your life." -Awake My Soul by Mumford and Sons
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〘Athena〙

"So, Mr. Wilson. You told me you're a..." Athena looked down at her notes. "...pilot?"

Sam grinned to himself, as if that was in an inside joke of some kind. Athena knew immediately that pilot was code for something else. But she didn't pry.

"Yeah, I'm a pilot. And call me Sam," Sam answered. She nodded and looked down again.

"It says here you served for two tours. That's a long time to be overseas," Athena started carefully, searching his eyes to gauge his reaction. They darkened slightly at the word tours, but then brightened again as if nothing had happened.

Sam was a new PTSD patient of hers. And since Athena was the best PTSD psychologist around, the facility had paired them up. He was easy enough to read, but he didn't seem to want to talk. In fact, he seemed distracted, as if the reason he came here wasn't the same as the reason he claimed.

"Yeah, well. I didn't have anything waiting for me back home, so I was in no hurry to get back."

Athena caught an edge to his voice, something that made his words harsher than they should have been. She clicked her pen and gave him a warm smile, hoping to ease down his walls.

"No one special?" She asked. He shook his head.

"Nope. My family's gone. All I've got are my colleagues."

"And by colleagues, do you mean old war buddies of yours, or your fellow pilots?" She questioned.

"My fellow..pilots."

Again, there was an edge to his voice. He wasn't telling the truth- that much was obvious. But Athena wasn't so much interested in what he was hiding as she was in why he was lying.

"And are you and your colleagues close?"

"Not all of us, but yeah, I'm close with a few," he replied. She noticed his eyes scan the room, and she wondered if he was subconsciously looking for threats. But his eyes weren't guarded. Instead, they were curious, as if he was determining if this facility was up to his standards.

"Do any of them have lingering effects from war as well? Like trouble sleeping, irritability, anxiety?"

He frowned for a moment. "Yeah. Come to think of it, a good buddy of mine struggles with what I think is depression, but hasn't gotten any help for it."

"Have you suggested that he go get some?" Athena asked, scanning his face, which was now entirely focused on their conversation. She noticed that he was being intentionally vague, and wouldn't say any names. He was definitely hiding something. She just wasn't sure what.

Sam shook his head.

"No. I only noticed it recently. I'm not sure how long it's been going on. How would you help someone through that, anyway? I know that this is off topic, but like, he's not the kinda guy that likes accepting help, no matter how badly he needs it."

Athena sat up in her chair, putting her clipboard down and folding her hands in her lap. She resisted the urge to tell Sam to bring his friend to her. She's utterly fascinated by people, and would love to pick this man's brain and find out why he's depressed, but she didn't want to sound like a stereotypical psychologist advertising her business. If she suggested Sam bring his friend in, Sam may not trust her anymore, and that wouldn't be good for anyone. So instead she tried to give him some advice.