A Psychiatrist's Hive I (whtbitch4u2own & Alan23)

ORIGINAL (INTRO) THREAD.

This is a SUB-THREAD of the INTRO Thread. Simply, a story between Dr. Kendra Peters and one of her patients.

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Dr. Kendra Peters, a name well known and well respected, have been practicing Psychiatry for a long time now. She was the youngest to graduate from a medical school so when she finished her training, she was indeed the youngest. That didn’t stop her from going further and a step beyond. She dedicated first few years of her career working under a famous Psychiatrist who not only was specialized in Neurology but also conducted research. Her curiosity had led her to sought him out and then work under him for few years before she started working at a hospital part time and part time, in her own clinic. Of course, that’s changed now since she dedicates all her time to her clinic now. It’s better that way because hospital has its own limitation.

She also specializes in cases that are hard to crack and that mostly comprises of people with very personal problems. She also manages patients who are struggling with their relationships and at times, she even does couples therapy. Only if both partners agrees to it. Most of her patients are rich since they are the only ones who can afford it.

She indeed have a nice estate. She had paid off her loans fully and then bought this house on the outskirts of the city. She didn’t like living in the chaos so she preferred the calmer environment. She had a 5000 sq feet house all to herself. It was her dream house that had a nice little drive way to it and mansion like feel to it. There…she was finally living in one and years of hard work finally had paid off. Like any other day, her office hours starts later in the day and finishes around the evening.

He had seen her again.

Every other night, it seemed, she was there. The scenario, the background varied, even the other people present. Sometimes it was in his own school, in inner city London, and he was leaving class after a maths lesson. Other times, he might be fighting a war, perhaps as part of Napoleon's army at Waterloo. Drifting alone on a raft, and fetching up on the shores of a desert island. Once while driving a sports car that (dream logic being what it was) had no steering wheel.

At school, she had been waiting in the yard outside. On the European battlefield, she had been standing, watching as he marched by on the way to engaging the Brunswickers in a firefight. She had been standing on the shore of the island, sitting beside him in the car.

Always the same, Always she. A haunting figure in chains, a long turquoise gown. Details varied. In the eighteenth century she'd worn her hair as Josephine Bernaise had, and the gown was of definite empire cut. In the schoolday dream she'd been dressed as a rich executive might have been in that period. In the car, her clothing had been contemporary, on the island the dress had been ripped, as if she'd been marooned some time, her hair stringy.

But always the same. The deep green eyes, auburn hair. The chains.

He was not frightened. Nothing about her scared him. He woke from the dreams with a feeling of wistfulness, sadness even, but he was not afraid, not trembling, not sweating. But... he had to know. Who was she? What was she doing in his mind. Did she have a message to convey?

Which is why, right now, he sat in the office of Doctor Kendra Peters. He had no idea if she could help, and suspected not.

But anything was better than doing nothing. Than never, ever knowing.

*****

Even now, sitting in the waiting room of Dr Peters' rooms - she would not, he realized, ever be so vulgar as to refer to it as a surgery - Jacob Rivers was not sure if he'd done the correct thing. After all, mysterious and haunting as the dream figure was, he could hardly say the dreams were damaging his life in any way. His job, that of a clerk in a government office, was hardly demanding, and his stock portfolio - which he relied upon to supplement his income - was doing better than ever. Nor could he really call the dreams "nightmares" as such. He woke from them perfectly composed and calm, albeit puzzled. It was a tiny bit spooky that the same figure should appear, amongst so many dream backgrounds or scenarios, but this was mysterious rather than intimidating.

He had thought long and hard, attempting to work out for himself just who the chained figure might be. He'd had plenty of girlfriends, and she resembled none of them. Nor any woman he knew. Yet, weirdly, neither was she a stranger. There was a faint scent of recognition about her, like a stranger one sees of whom one thinks "Hey, I know you from somewhere." A person who used to run the local drugstore three years ago, an actress seen in a movie a decade before, a person you see waiting at the subway stop twenty feet away every morning.

He ran over her description in his mind. Tall, willowy... insubstantial, almost, though hardly "ghostlike" in the traditional sense. He gained the feeling that if she wished, she could reach out and touch him. yet, she never spoke, never changed her facial expression. Never attempted to communicate, tell him why she was there, what she required of him or might give him or take from him.

Well, it was too late to turn back now.

He looked around the room. Somewhat surprisingly, there was no receptionist, not even a trace of a reception desk. Come to think of it, he recalled he'd spoken to Dr Peters herself, which had seemed a pleasantly personal touch at the time, though now he was not so sure. Was she so unsuccessful she could not even afford an assistant? yet the framed qualifications on the wall would seem to give the lie to this.

He forced such thoughts from his mind, concentrating on keying in his details into the tablet attached to his waiting room chair which, he supposed, was a far more efficient way to register than with a human receptionist. perhaps, after all, the empty waiting room was a sign of superior efficiency, not professional failure. Well, time would tell.

So now he had to wait, he supposed, until called for. And as these thoughts went through his mind, she did indeed emerge, and call his name.

He gave her a polite glance, respecting her professional status, yet... for he was a male, after all... a tiny part of him registered and scored her by the usual criteria. Was she attractive? Would he like to have sex with her? Would she let him if he did? Was she in a relationship? Well, she was pretty enough. Deep eyes, that were her best feature. A wide, rounded face, showing perhaps a central European descent. protruding teeth, that many might have found off-putting, but that he found nothing but sexy, for he was a sucker for a small overbite.

But when it came down to it, what did her looks matter? He was here to find out about the chained woman. The first move, he hoped, in bringing the mystery to a close.

Dr. Peters had everything digitized. Her home office basically didn’t need a secretary per say. Once someone enters her office, the patients would grab a seat and with it attached is a tablet. They’d have to sign in if they were old patients OR fill their personal and insurance information if they’re new. With that information, their digital chart either get pulled from the record or is created if it’s a new patient. Should anyone want to make a new appointment, they’d reach an automated system where they can simply make an appointment on the phone and if it’s an emergency, they’d have her cell phone number where they can reach there anytime.

She did have a fall back secretary, back where she actually practiced with few other physicians and she was the second number they’d have to reach should they need her, unless it’s an emergency. Though, in such field, an emergency rarely occurs and hence, she loves her lifestyles. She gets to enjoy all the good things there’s to enjoy and was glad that she wasn’t married which would weigh her down.

She was expecting Mr. XYZ at about 2 pm. She was ready for him as she was dressed casually in a black pair of jeans and a blazer with a grey top tucked into her jeans. This was one of the perks of working from home, she could dress simple on certain days she wouldn’t want to dress up. She did complete her outfit with a necklace, a watch on her left wrist and heels. She always kept up her appearances. Once she was ready, she stepped out into the waiting area, “Mr. xyz?” She said as she smiled, holding the door open for him, “Come on in. I will see you now.” She said with a smile, holding a large tablet in her hand, with his file opened for her to write notes on. Once he’d walk up to the door, she’d simple let him pass and point to a door across a small hallway which would lead to her luxurious office.

He'd find a large wooden desk which she barely sits on but it’s there for the formality. She spends most of her time on the couches which were in the corner of the room, across the table and to its left would be two windows, looking out towards the garden. "I am Dr. Peters. How are you?" She smiled and looked at him, fairly young guy, wondering what his problem was, apart from what he had written in his chart. Though, it was crucial that she hears from him and so, she leaned forward to show him she was interested in what he had to say as her gaze pierced through his.

"Well, I guess I'm fine... erm, in myself" Jacob replied. "Like, it's not as if these dreams... are nightmares, as such. I mean I don't wake up in a cold sweat, or anything." He found himself noticing her, almost cataloging her. Her pretty eyes. The way she leaned forward, which might have been genuine interest or simply a professional mannerism. He was not, by nature, a truster. He took in small details... the slightly large front teeth, her strong gaze, the way her t-shirt was spilling out of the waist of her pants. "It's just... like, surely it's not normal to dream about the same girl, over and over? I mean she isn't a real... that is, she isn't anyone I ever met in real life. Like an ex girlfriend or something. And," he gave a small, self-deprecating laugh "I never met a girl who wore chains around herself anyway. Never been into that stuff. I... I think I would like to know who she is. Why she keeps coming back, over and over. It's as if I knew her, yet I never met her."

He was looking away from Dr peters, not through shyness - whatever he was, he wasn't the shy type - more as if to remind himself that she was his doctor, not some kind of lust object. Though why he needed to remind himself of that he could not tell. Sure, he liked women, but he wasn't looking right now.

"Like, when I was in the army... I saw her then a few times. And after, when I worked on the rigs. And when I was awake, even if I tried to form a mental picture of her, I couldn't... yet whenever I see her in a dream, I recognize her instantly. Understand, she doesn't change, she keeps the same face and looks, like any real person does. But she never lets me see her in waking life. Does anyone else get this. The same person, over and over again in the same dream? I just get a feeling she means something, if I could just work out what."

For some reason he found himself wishing he could see Dr Peters in the type of attire he'd expected to see her in. Business attire... a blazer, maybe, and skirt, a suit. Hose. Clothing of that type had always turned him on the way other men were drawn towards low cut tops or tight shorts. Again, he forced himself to concentrate and get the fleeting fantasy out of his mind.

"Is she there for some reason, Doctor?" he finished, a bit lamely.

She looked at him with interest when he started to speak. A simple question such as HOW WAS HE, he showed uncertainty in his reply. She paid close attention to how he worded these dreams. Of course, it was obvious that they didn’t feel like dreams, almost as if it was a reality. Everyone have such occurrence in their life at times but they are so random and short lived, definitely unlikely to repeat on and on…as it was with his case.

Kendra had no idea that he paid close attention to her details. “While it’s normal to dream about someone, it’s rarely a case where it’s about one person and that too, someone you have no idea of.” She said and uncrossed her legs but keeping it together as she leaned forward to show interest. “So, it’s not someone you know. Not anyone from your past. We definitely can rule out you being able to see the future.” She said in a sarcastic manner without coming off to make fun of him. She knew how sensitive some patients were but she was trying to lighten up his mood as she smiled softly.

“I mean, hell I wish I was able to see the future.” She said and listened to him a bit more in depth. After she’d made her explanation the best she could, she pondered on it a bit more in the back of her head, not rushing to spill anything just yet but slowly explore that avenue, should that seem promising. She nodded no, “Not over and over again, no. It’s usually once or twice if lucky. Unless of course, it’s someone from the past and they have a strong connection with them which they are holding on to. Clearly, it isn’t the case here.”

She had no idea he was wishing to see her in business attire or something, it was old fashioned and doctors these days, especially Psychiatrists, they are actually more laid back. They don’t even practice carrying a stethoscope these days so lot has changed. Besides, she wasn’t in come corporate business but her own and that too, in her own home. She need not impress anyone but herself and as long as she dressed professionally, it was enough. “Why she’s there? I think it’s something we both will have to find out together. If you had a choice to take someone you know and put them in place of the girl you see in your dream, who would you pick? We can tackle the problem backwards and see if we get anything out of that? I also would like to know if you are in a relationship and for how long? If single….when did you date last time? Sometimes your own fantasies can play tricks on your mind. It might be something that you deep down desire and you may have no knowledge of it.” She said and shrugged her shoulders, letting him speak now as she needed to work the case in her mind as well as take a breather.