tampered | It seems so long ago...

Wilson's had some reasonably strong suspicions, ever since he and Penny went downstairs to meet Jimmy, that the majority of the issues at hand are mental in nature. Which, of course, isn't to say they aren't real; unquestionably, there are any number of physiological illnesses that are easier to cure, chronic conditions that are easier to manage, and injuries that are simpler to treat. He has no idea of what Jimmy's been through, of course, but he knows the warning signs of a panic attack when he sees them.

If it weren't for the number of patients on hand who are physically injured and/or fevered, he'd probably have tried to start this conversation himself. As it is, he's perfectly willing to take a few minutes when Jimmy comes to him. He can only hope the reasons that he's been sought out are what he hopes they are.

"Yeah, of course." No hesitation there, and one of his small, friendly smiles - a bit strained, under the circumstances. "What can I do for you?"

"Um..."

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable and like he'd rather be anywhere but there. Which isn't true, exactly. He wants to be here, because he wants Dr. Wilson to fix him. He doesn't quite understand that it doesn't work that way, not that quickly, at least. He just feels like the doctor's gonna judge him, and that's the last thing he wants or needs right now.

"Dr. House said that I should talk to ya. Well, he said I should talk to someone 'cause he said he thinks I've got this... PTSD thing. I dunno if that's..."

He shrugs, trying to make light of the situation. "I dunno if that's somethin' you really deal with or if it's even really what's goin' on with me, but I just thought, y'know, 'cause you helped out when I came to the hospital, 'n shit, you could tell me what to do."

Wilson nods, understandingly, as he takes that in. If House has gone so far as to actually tell Jimmy that he thinks it's PTSD, then he's probably right about it - and it certainly fits with what he's seen. While he definitely isn't a psychiatrist, everyone does do a psych rotation, and mental health is a considerable portion of treating cancer patients. Certainly, he has more than enough knowledge to be aware that the way you begin to approach PTSD is to let the person talk about it. That, he can certainly do.

"Well, PTSD - post-traumatic stress disorder - is something that takes a while to work through... typically, that involves dealing with the incident that caused the disorder. Talking about what you're experiencing."

And he doesn't even know yet what Jimmy's been through to cause this PTSD.

"Guess it's just..."

He stares at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact. Making eye contact makes this real, and he can barely accept the fact that he's seeking help. He's always thought this kind of thing made you weak, and he's never wanted anyone in his mind. Oh, sure, the army offered to do studies, to find out what shell-shock did to people. He never participated. At the time, he'd dismissed it as stupid -- he was fine, wasn't he? He'd survived.

"Dr. House says that I'm fucked up 'cause I was in the war 'n I got wounded 'n everything. He said that that can make people paranoid, or make 'em lash out against people they care about. I guess I can kinda relate to that, 'n I've been feelin' sick a lot. Uneasy, y'know?"

Framing it in the context of what Dr. House said was a hell of a lot easier than accepting that it was all true. If the doctor had said it, it meant that Jimmy could still be skeptical about it, that he was still holding out hope that Dr. Wilson would laugh and dismiss all of it, tell him to shake it off and move on.

"Shit, I dunno."

Was he not supposed to swear around doctors? He wasn't sure. He hoped Dr. Wilson didn't care.

He doesn't mind Jimmy not making eye contact, and he certainly doesn't care if Jimmy feels like swearing. As far as Wilson's concerned this is about Jimmy talking about what he's experiencing. However he needs to approach it is fine - that's on his terms.

"Well, a lot of people who go through wars come back with PTSD. It's caused by going through a situation where you're in a heightened state of anxiety, especially confronted with mortal danger. Day-to-day, the issues are what Dr. House described, and... in a situation like we've been in here, it can trigger that anxiety into an attack, that feels very much like you're sick. You can have difficulty breathing, an accelerated heartrate, dizziness, trembling, nausea... a number of symptoms that make it feel as if you're physically ill."

Describing it seems better than telling Jimmy outright that this is probably what he was going through. It works, in a way - House can handle the part where he outright badgers Jimmy into asking for help, and Wilson can take it from there and let Jimmy work past the denial on his own. And, of course, as something a bit simpler to respond to, there is a question on his mind.

"Which war were you in?"

"I, uh..."

That's a lot of information to process, and he hates that it all fits. Especially with the traumatic situation of these ghouls, seeing what he saw, he knows that Dr. Wilson's right, he just can't admit it out loud yet.

"I guess you guys're calling it World War I." And that alone is enough to make him feel anxious. The fact that there's another war like that, another war against many of the same people, another way for people like him to get wounded, to get killed... that makes him feel like his own fighting was for nothing.

"I was in France. In the trenches. I was a machine gunner, 'n uh... I got schrapnel in my leg from a grenade. I was in the hospital for eight months after that. They gave me a fuckin' medal for that, like I wanted their fuckin' medal, like gettin' injured was fuckin' brave or somethin'. Shit, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

It's information that's volunteered as an overview - and not overtly assigned to his particular case, so that Jimmy is free to take that information and process it in whatever time he needs.

Jimmy does go for what he was expecting and even hoping, really, by latching onto the more direct and more easily handled question. He might have had a feeling that Jimmy was from a slightly different time than he was, but he hadn't really managed to place it yet. Really, you could blame that on the circumstances under which they've interacted so far. Who'd be paying attention to that right now?

"That is what we're calling it... and it's quite some time ago, where I'm from. Not that everything's changed - they are still eager to out those medals when soldiers are injured. But some things have made progress... plenty of people came back from the war with some very real problems. In the years since, a lot of focus has been placed on the issue of providing both medical and mental healthcare for veterans returning home. It's recognized now that PTSD, along with many other disorders, is a real thing. It is a kind of illness, and just because it can't be seen the way a physiological illness can doesn't make it any less valid, or its effects any less real."

"So that means... that means ya can fix it, right?"

And maybe it was good that Dr. Wilson was from the future, maybe he was right in saying that things were different, that things had improved. Jimmy had had his doubts -- maybe he'd thought the doctor would just call him crazy. Shit, enough people had called him crazy back home that he'd almost believed it.

"So how does it work? How d'you fix me?"

It's apparent that he's still not quite aware of the fact that it might take a bit more than medicine, that there was no easy fix. Doctors were supposed to make you better, and Jimmy wasn't used to that taking work from him. Maybe that was why he hadn't taken care of himself even after his surgery in the City. Maybe that was why Dr. House was so pissed at him.

"'n we don't have to tell anyone about this, right?"

Because that's really the last thing he needs, word getting around that he's fucked in the head.

"Actually, at least where I'm from, there are some very specific laws about that. And... while I may not be in my own reality anymore, I do have every intention of continuing to follow those laws. So, I can't tell anyone about this. You have full confidentiality."

That's the easiest question to field, so he tackles it first. The far more complicated issue is the 'fix' that Jimmy is dwelling on finding. Of course it isn't that simple, but he can't help but be sympathetic toward the desire for a quick fix.

"As far as 'fixing' goes, the way this sort of thing is dealt with takes time. There are some medications that can be used, to help manage the anxiety, though it can take a while to figure out which works best, and if that's even necessary. Primarily, though... it's something that has to be worked through, by talking about the way you're feeling, what you're experiencing, and eventually confronting the issues at the root of the problem. Treatment also differs from person to person - it's just not as straightforward as physiological illness."

He's not even certain, yet, that he's capable of taking this on, but the fact that Jimmy has chosen to speak to him at least means he's dealing with it right now. It's a responsibility to deal with that kind of an approach in a manner that won't shut Jimmy down, and he doesn't take that lightly.

"So does that mean I gotta spill my guts about... everythin'?"

Because he's pretty sure that if the doctor knew even half of what he'd seen, what he'd done, he might not be so comfortable helping him out anymore. On the other hand, he's pretty sure that if he hides it, Dr. Wilson is going to know. He's suddenly looking nervous -- maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe Dr. Wilson will find out something about him that he doesn't want anyone to know. He trusts that the doctor isn't going to spill the information to anyone else, but he's not sure he even wants to say half of that stuff out loud.

"I mean, can I maybe just... talk about a little bit of it? 'n then you can fix me from there."

The reluctance isn't hard to pick up on, and pushing is about the last thing that would help right now.

"Nobody's going to force you to say anything. You can talk about as much as you feel comfortable with. You can start with what you're going through now, here in the City - basically, anything that's bothering you."

Because forcing the topic is going to be highly counter-productive, and because you don't start at the root of the issue - you work your way back to confront that, hopefully, over time. But you start with the now, the day-to-day, managing the going forward before you go back.

"Okay, well, this whole fuckin' curse, these ghosts or whatever the fuck they are... I saw my fiance, okay? 'n last time I checked, she was doin' just fine. She was at home, she was alive, we was..."

There's a hesitation there, a quick glance away from Wilson, as though Wilson's going to read his mind and figure out that not everything he says is one hundred percent accurate. "We was doin' fine."

'Fine' is one way to put it. Most people wouldn't, and his almost angry emphasis on the word probably speaks volumes as to what he actually thinks, though he's not self-aware enough to know it. "'n now I just keep thinkin'... what if she's dead back home? What if my kid's dead, too?"

"A lot of people saw some familiar faces among the ghouls."

He would know; he's included in that count. But that's not important, or relevant, in any way right now.

"The thing about curses - and often even more about the bigger ones like this - is that they often deliberately pick at the wounds each of us have. They're essentially targeted to be as disturbing as they possibly can be. But, the other thing about them, about the City, is that you can't necessarily trust anything that it shows you. Someone appearing in this kind of state here doesn't necessarily have any bearing on reality."

It's true, of course, and he's been here long enough to have seen the City pull off more impressive illusions. There's every reason to think it's a deception - even more as he hears each story like this - and he truly hopes it is. He's caught that fine, but he's holding onto it for now. Under the circumstances, it seems more urgent (and merciful) to point out the City's duplicitousness.

"Right, right, that's true..."

He's desperate to cling to any reassurances Wilson can offer him, and it's true enough -- the City does seem to design things with the sole purpose of concerning and scaring its residents, at times. Of course, Jimmy's paranoid enough to believe that it could all be real, but he knows he can't think that way. If Angela or Tommy are hurt or dead, he can't go back and save them. He's stuck here.

"So... what am I supposed to do? Just... not think about it? I mean, shit, I... just keep seein' 'em. Y'know, I had this friend, back home, he was real fucked up from the war, I mean physically, 'n he didn't have all these... PTSD problems, or whatever."

That was completely untrue, but Jimmy had never been good at psychological issues.

"Not everyone reacts to the same situation in the same way. That's nobody's fault, it's just a question of different people handling things differently. Not everyone who comes back from war, even everyone who's injured, develops symptoms of PTSD or any other disorder. At the same time, you won't typically be able to tell whether they have in most situations."

Which is point one, and probably the simpler to address. The issue of his fiancee, his child, that's a more complicated question.

"Usually, not thinking about something isn't nearly as simple as it sounds. Though I'd imagine you already know that."

A momentary pause there, he shifts slightly.

"You and your fiancee didn't have any fights or any problems, when you were back home? Most couples do, I mean, from time to time, and... the City certainly could decide to exploit of any kind of uncertainty or anxiety you're having."

There's the question he didn't want to be asked, the question he'd hoped not to have to deal with, but if he'd been honest with himself, he'd've known it was coming all along. Wilson wouldn't have been a very good doctor if he hadn't picked up on something there, and he was right -- there were certainly fights, certainly problems.

"Angela 'n I..."

That's a start. At least he's finally said her name. It's the first time since he's been in the City that he's been able to say it out loud. He's talked about his son by name, often enough, but never Angela.

"Angela 'n I... met in college. We were at Princeton. We were datin', she got pregnant..." He shrugs, wanting to summarize things as much as he can without rambling. "I joined the army, 'n then I was gone for a long time. First 'cause of basic training, then 'cause of the war, then 'cause I got injured. When I came back, she'd thought I was dead, y'know. 'n all of a sudden we were... well, we were livin' together, raisin' Tommy together... 'n I dunno, my job keeps me away from home a lot. It just ain't what I thought it'd be."

"Things very rarely turn out to be what we thought they would be. And, after everything you've been through, all the time you've been kept apart, it's understandable that you'd have a difficult time settling into a normal life."

Relationship problems: there's an issue Wilson's no stranger to, and he can identify with that.

"Do you feel like it would be any better, if you weren't away from home so much?"

Of course, he's not assuming that it would be - it's an honest, straight question, because sometimes being away isn't the problem, but a symptom of the problem. With the probable PTSD, Jimmy's general anxiety and paranoia could make settling in to a normal domestic life difficult - and, under the circumstances Jimmy described, the relationship may very well be plagued by its own unrelated issues.

Damn, Wilson's good at asking questions that strike right to the heart of the matter. If Jimmy weren't feeling so anxious and generally out of sorts, he'd be pretty impressed. As it is, he feels slightly uncomfortable, like Wilson can read his mind, because he'd wondered things like that many times before.

There's a long pause as he thinks about it, really trying to turn it over in his head before blurting out the first answer that comes to mind. Then he shakes his head. "No. I don't really think it'd be better. I think we'd fight, I think she'd be pissed off at me all the time 'cause she doesn't like what I do, she doesn't like the rest of my family, she thinks I don't know Tommy well enough 'cause I was gone all the time when he was real little, 'n... she ain't in love with me, anyway. I don't think."

If this ever gets repeated to anyone else, Jimmy will be very upset. He has no idea why he's saying it all now. Maybe because thus far, Wilson hasn't said anything judgmental. He's only made statements about psychology, assured Jimmy that some of this is normal, asked neutral questions. If he'd've tried to tell any of his friends this shit, well, they'd've laughed at him and told him his marriage was a mess, and he was a loser.

"Well - obviously, there isn't much that you can do to try to make things better between the two of you while you're here. But... when you do go home, you should talk to her, about how you feel - about how both of you feel. Not when you've been fighting, but when you think you can have a conversation. Believe me, I know it's easier said than done, but... if you can talk about how you feel in your relationship, it'd be best for both of you."

Easier said than done, indeed. He knows that from experience - he'd rather go blow off steam with House than deal with his own relationship issues, but look where that's landed him. So much of that statement comes from experience, his own mistakes - Jimmy, though, has a whole other set of issues. He can imagine it'd be even more difficult for him to open up. But that's a neutral bit of advice, a suggestion - and it's one that he's not sure Jimmy will take back with him, to when and where he can do anything. Still, it might help him to hold onto it nonetheless... but there's another topic at hand, one that he thinks is even more important than his fiancee.

"But setting aside what she thinks - what do you think? Do you feel like you know your son?"

And all this, against the backdrop of the ghouls. The normality of the conversation is almost hilarious in context.

His natural instinct is to respond with rage to that question. Does he know his son? Of course he knows his son. Who could know a son better than his own father? He clenches his fists for a moment, ready to let some choice words fly, face reddening, but then he takes a deep breath and seems to steady himself. Maybe Wilson has a point.

"I dunno," he says reluctantly, and even those three syllables are drawn out and hesitant. "Maybe not as well as I'd like to. I guess kids do a lotta growin' up between when they're born 'n when they're toddlers, I guess. When I came home, Tommy was scared of me, 'cause... well, I guess I'd've been scared, too, if I'd been his age. Some strange guy comes in the house, walks with a limp, claims to be your dad but you never seen him before..."

He shrugs. "Guess I tried to get to know him, but I keep fuckin' it up. I bought Angela this fuckin' vacuum sweeper, 'cause, y'know, I thought it'd make it easier for her to clean up around the house, and Tommy started bawlin', like he was real scared the noise it made, or somethin'. So of course my gift was shit, 'cause it scared my kid."

And what kind of father scares their kid? He has an answer to that, but there's no way he's discussing his own childhood. No, better to stick to the present, to things he thinks he can fix. Maybe he has a decent chance with Angela and Tommy once he gets back, but he's never going to have a chance to unravel everything that went wrong in his life ten or twenty years ago.

He's still looking angry, though, edgy, like he's mad that the confession that he doesn't really know his kid was dragged out of him. It may have been true, but sometimes he hated dealing with the truth.

Well. That's certainly one of the buttons Wilson's going to make note of immediately. He had posed it as a question, not even an insinuation, and the anger that Jimmy's displayed in response to it speaks volumes - at least as much as the response that's reluctantly offered along with it. But it's an understandable reaction, given the situation, and the situation itself is understandable. Not that it makes it easier.

"That's a fairly common hurdle for families to deal with, when a parent is deployed for the beginning of a child's life. It's hard, but it's never anyone's fault, and there isn't anything that can be done about it after the fact. What's important is that you're trying... that you're there, going forward. You can only do anything about to affect the present going forward, and you're trying - you clearly care about him. He'll know that."

Leaning back, he takes a breath, shaking his head slightly, because... sometimes the removal across time he has with some people here is almost startling.

"And... for the record, the time I come from? Most families have vacuums, and a lot of kids are still scared of the noise. That's far from anything you should beat yourself up about."

"Sure, I know, it ain't my fault, exactly, but..."

He sighs, realizing that he'll probably have to at least reference his childhood for this to make any sense. He doesn't want to go into any great depth, but he can't explain why he's so hurt by the idea that Tommy barely knows him, that he could disappear tomorrow and Tommy wouldn't care. "Look, I didn't really have a dad, okay? 'n I don't want Tommy to feel like he doesn't have a dad, either."

That's as close as he'll get to saying anything about that part of his life. He doesn't want Wilson to think he's pathetic, or like he's worrying about things he shouldn't. Wilson is from the future, after all, a future where apparently this kind of thing is okay to talk about, but he can't help but think that this is all going to turn around into judgement against him, that Wilson's going to decide he's an unfit father and do... something.

Logically he knows nothing can be done here in the City. Emotionally, he still worries about the repurcussions of saying what he's saying.

That does color things, a bit, though it's not an unusual circumstance. He considers it, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"It's natural to worry about repeating the mistakes that others have wronged us with, to think we might repeat them and make someone else feel the way that we did. That's part of being human, and it can keep us from doing some awful things."

And he pauses again, taking a breath as he considers it.

"Now... obviously, it'd be difficult for me to know how you are with your son, given that we're stuck in an alternate reality at the moment. What I can tell you is that everything you've said about him makes me fairly confident that he does have a father who cares about his welfare, and who cares about how he affects his son's life. When you do get back home, you can be there for him going forward, and that's what matters."

He nods slowly. What Wilson says makes sense, and he hasn't said anything judgmental or vilifying yet. Maybe Jimmy's been over-thinking this, been dwelling on things too much. It's true -- there isn't much they can do, stuck here as they are.

"Yeah. When I go home, I'm gonna try really hard to just... y'know, to be there, 'n to be a good dad. You're right. I do care a lot about him, 'n I gotta be more confident about that."

It was rare to hear Jimmy say something vaguely positive about himself, but the small smile he offered Wilson was enough to suggest that what he was saying wasn't simply what he thought the doctor wanted to hear -- he was starting to want to believe it, too.

"Thanks, doc. I really..."

He takes another deep breath. "I think I said everythin' I needed to say for now, 'n I'm kinda..." Overwhelmed is the word he's looking for, but he's not sure how to express that, so he just shrugs. "Anyway... can I talk to you some other time, if I want? Y'know, if stuff starts gettin' bad again? With the... uh... PTSD shit?"

There is a small smile back from Wilson. It's a beginning, and there's a lot ahead still, but tackling these smaller individual issues and starting to not bottle things up - that's an important foundation to start putting down. And, of course, he's got plenty to deal with the zombies still, so... it probably is best to save anything more for another time. (Overwhelmed isn't a stretch for him to guess at.) He offers a nod, to the question.

"Of course. Anything that's bothering you, anything that you want to talk about, you're absolutely welcome to come to me with it."

"And it's, um... you're not gonna tell anyone about this, right? I mean, not even other doctors? 'cause I know you said you can't tell other people, but I guess... I dunno, maybe you could tell other doctors, 'n I'd rather you didn't. For now. Until I actually, y'know, get all of this worked out."

He still seems to think it will be worked out fairly quickly, but perhaps that's as much faith in Wilson's abilities as it is misunderstanding his own mind.

"No, I won't tell anyone else about anything that you've said - doctor or otherwise."

Jimmy does seem to have a rather optimistic view of things, but... somehow, Wilson doesn't think now is the best time to have a conversation about how involved and long dealing with this sort of thing can be. Take it as it comes, manage expectations along the way - or at least, as some point when there aren't zombies roaming the streets.

"Okay, well, thank you. 'n, uh, I'll come talk to you again sometime soon. Once I figure out what other kinda stuff I want to talk about."

He'll have to work out what he even wants to say, and right now, all he can think about is how he just said way too much -- and how there are zombies everywhere. That's enough to take his mind off of the more deeply emotional things.

It seems so long ago...

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