…I’ve made great progress with Sheshona, not as a patient, but in getting to know her. She seems truly content in not letting me treat her imbalance. I do not understand why she does not wish for me to treat her disease. I fail to understand why a person would be content in being so very wrong. I do not mean to judge her so harshly, as she is somewhat a friend now, but she is an intelligent woman content in being wrong. It makes no sense to me. I suppose I shall prod her mind for the answers, but first I must pray that she’s in such a mood.
She is still a bit difficult to speak with because it all depends on her mood. She is sometimes friendly and she sometimes has the disposition of an angry dog. Lately, she has been more affable and less biting as to before when she first arrived and she would bite me more often than anything else. This is a sign that she is making progress, right?
(1855)
Sheshona wandered into Doctor Possible’s office and took her usual seat on the sofa. Kimberly sat down next to her and Sheshona did something that was rapidly becoming her habit; she put her feet in Kimberly’s lap. She had recently been having dreams where she was allowed to rest her head in the doctor’s lap. There was nothing sexual about it the dreams, which surprised her. She would merely rest her head in Kimberly’s lap and Kimberly would tenderly caress her in different places depending on the dream, but nothing licentious. She both enjoyed and loathed those dreams.
The pale woman had never desired to lay her head in a woman’s lap for peaceful relaxation. Mediation was for relaxation; women were for deep, lascivious pleasure. Kimberly was something different, though.
The redhead glanced at the feet that were in her lap. She did not mind them being there, despite the fact that the feet were dirty and her dress was surprisingly clean for the time that they lived in. She just wanted Sheshona to be comfortable because that would make her more open to treatment; or at least, that was the reason the good doctor was telling herself. Maybe it was one of the reasons, but it was not the main one; actually, it might not have even been gracing the top five of the reasons list.
It could have just been that the doctor did not mind Sheshona’s feet in her lap and she wanted Sheshona to be comfortable because she cared about the pale woman in someway, end of argument. She did not consider that because she doubted that it would be appropriate for her to care too much about her patient. There was a line that she had to remain on one side of to remain professional, after all.
“Hey, doc,” Sheshona said.
“Yes?” Kimberly replied. She secretly liked it when Sheshona started their conversations because it showed that the emerald-eyed female was interesting in hearing her opinion rather than teasing her, as she typically did when responding to questions asked by the doctor.
Now, the physician liked to tell herself that she preferred Sheshona starting their discussions because it seemed like she was interested in being treated and cured, but deep down, the redhead had long ago figured out that there was no curing Sheshona. She was always going to be attracted to women and the doctor was not sure what to do. Why did she persist, she wondered, if she knew her attempts would be in vain? She enjoyed Sheshona’s company, she supposed, but that did not explain fully why she continued on when she knew that her job would yield nothing. It was almost like she was putting up a front.
“How long have I been here?” the raven-haired woman asked curiously.
“About half a year,” Kimberly answered.
“I thought as much,” Sheshona commented. She had never stayed at an asylum that long; she had never really stayed any place that long in the past decade. She usually escaped hospitals the first few days and went about her life. Why was she still there, she asked herself. Did her conquest bid her stay? She liked to think so, but she was beginning to fear that it was not in the way that she had originally planned.
“Any reason why you ask?” the olive-eyed doctor inquired.
“No,” Sheshona replied.
“Will no one visit you while you’re here?” Kimberly asked curiously.
Many of the institutions patients were forgotten by their families because of their sicknesses; no healthy person liked being near a sick person out of fear of infliction. However, Sheshona was not so terribly ill to be forgotten. There was nothing outstandingly wrong with her to where her family should not at least come and check on her progress, not that there was much of that to speak on.
“My father might stop by to check on my chains, but no one else will come,” Sheshona answered. Most of her family did not live on the same coast as she did anymore, so they did not even know that she was in the hospital. It was not that they did not want anything to do with her, but they had lives of their own, which she understood; she had her own life too.
“Why did he chain you like this?” Kimberly asked while fingering the ankle shackles since they were by her hands. She thought that it was a cruel practice to bind anyone, even though she knew that at some mental institutions, patients were bound to the walls like criminals.
“He wishes for me to stay and feels that this is the only way,” the pale woman answered as if it was nothing. Her father was such a fool and he lacked any sort of imagination. He really could not fathom what she was capable of if he truly believed that the chains would hold her indefinitely.
“Did no one protest to such treatment of you? Did you mother not find this cruel?” Kimberly asked.
Sheshona glanced away for a moment and noted that her doctor was back to thinking like the hypocrite she was. Kimberly was not the normal woman that she wished to portray and Sheshona was not sure if the doctor realized it completely or not, despite the fact that she told it to the redheaded siren a few times directly. She often thought that Kimberly was like the chief representative of what a woman should be, but she was not that herself. She could stand and pretend, she could recite and dictate, but at the end of the day, Kimberly was nothing like what she presented herself to be.
If the physician was the normal woman that she tried to be, Sheshona believed that the redhead would not question her bonds. It would have been enough for Kimberly to know that her father had put her in the manacles if doctor was the average female. He was the one in charge, he had made a decision, and he was a man, so it had to be for the best. Obviously, Kimberly did not think like that, but she really did not seem to notice.
In a small part of Sheshona’s mind that she tried to ignore, she thought that her doctor was adorable because she was a hypocrite and barely noticed why. It was cute to watch her be abnormal with no clue that she was doing it. Her doctor was just so endearing.
“My father thought that this was the best way to handle me,” Sheshona replied while holding up her wrists a little bit.
“And your mother agreed?” Kimberly inquired almost incredulously. She would never agree if her husband wanted to put their child in restraints and she certainly would not allow him to do it.
“My mother is not around to protest in my favor,” Sheshona admitted. Her mother would never have let such a thing happen. Her mother would have broken her father’s arms for daring to have such an idea and she knew that for a fact.
“Has she passed on?” Kimberly asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be,” Sheshona said in a dismissive tone.
“My mother passed on when I was little,” Kimberly informed her patient. “I never had the pleasure of knowing the woman.”
“No? So, are you a doctor because your father thought that you were a little boy all of your life?” Sheshona asked in an amused tone.
“My father merely gave me his blessing to be whatever it was that I desired to be. Is your mother the reason you have such a free spirit?” Kimberly countered.
The raven-haired woman laughed a bit; it was a rare time indeed when the doctor witnessed her patient laughing. Her mother was responsible for almost everything that she was. That woman knew how to push her buttons and get her to behave almost like a windup toy. She knew how to get Sheshona hyped, angry, happy, just about everything. Sheshona used to be both apprehensive and overjoyed with her mother because she just never knew where the woman was going to come from and she liked that for some reason that she would never be able to explain. It was just like her mother was an alpha wolf and she was a member of the pack.
“You’re laughing. Why?” the redhead asked.
“My mother was a funny woman,” Sheshona answered.
“Why do you say that?” the doctor inquired.
“I can tell you a story and you can get the idea about her. A long time ago, when I was about five years old, my skin looked like yours. I was a bit paler maybe, but it was close to that complexion. I was down by a pond that I had no business playing in because she told me I had better keep my clothes clean that day because we were supposed to be going somewhere. There was a flash in the sky and I saw a weird rainbow-like shooting star in broad daylight. A piece of the star fell into the pond and I got splashed with a bunch of water.
“Now, I’m in trouble. I mean, my mother is going to know I was at the pond, my clothes are ruined, and suddenly I felt sick. I wandered around for a little while, hoping to dry off to avoid getting really yelled at. I went back home once I was feeling really sick and my clothes weren’t yet dry.
“My mother caught sight of me the second I came into the yard and began hollering about my state. And then she noticed something weird, my skin was turning a little green. She then began yelling at me, wanting to know what I did to make my skin that color. I got yelled at and yanked around until I threw up from the sick feeling in my stomach. I hit her bare feet and I thought I was going to be killed for it. She flew off into a rage, wondering how I could get so sick so quickly.
“She rushed me to my room, called three different doctors, and worried for the rest of the day about my health. She didn’t apologize for yelling, but she caressed my forehead and cheek and told me everything would be all right. I think she was saying it more for herself than me because I knew I wasn’t going to die. Still, she stayed by my side and cuddled me throughout my sickness. She made sure I got everything I needed or wanted while I was sick.
“Once she noticed I was better, she went back to scolding me for being at the pond. She could be the harshest woman one minute and then the gentlest the next. She also never forgot when I disobeyed her and always made sure to scold me. But, she also always remembered when I did something good and always made sure to praise me,” Sheshona stated.
“Did they ever figure out why your skin turned that color?” Kimberly asked.
“I told the doctors about the star because that was the only odd thing that happened, so I thought there might be some connection, but they didn’t believe me. They also didn’t believe that I was feeling better while my skin remained green. I told my mother about it, though and I think she believed me. She told me that I had witnessed a dragon and I would be blessed with all the skills I needed to overcome her. It wasn’t a dragon, I know that for sure,” the emerald-eyed woman replied.
“She must have loved you deeply,” the redhead commented.
“She never said so out loud,” Sheshona remarked with a smile. She did not hold it against her mother to not have said so; she did not need to hear it to know that it was true.
“My father told me constantly. It used to embarrass me quite bit,” the doctor reported with a smile of her own.
“My father was an embarrassment for me too,” Sheshona quipped.
“I’m sure in a different fashion.”
“Probably, especially since you like your father. So, doc, what did your mother die of or is that inappropriate to ask?” the pale woman inquired, teasing only slightly. She did not want to pry or open an old wound for her doctor.
“I am unsure actually. My father never really talked about the cause of her death. It was a painful subject for him. It still is. He never even remarried,” the redhead answered.
Sheshona nodded. It would seem she had her doctor’s father to thank for her quirky behavior. She supposed that it had to be nice to have an encouraging father, no matter what she did, but she would not trade a good father if it meant that she would have to give up her mother at a young age. She already believed that she did not have enough time with that lunatic woman, so she certainly would not shorten the time more so.
“My mother died the way that she wanted to. Everyone should be so lucky,” Sheshona commented.
“How did she die?” Kimberly asked.
“By the sword,” the raven-haired female answered.
“By the sword?” the doctor echoed in a puzzled tone.
Sheshona was not sure if she could explain her mother to someone who did not know the woman. How does one explain a valiant warrior death to someone that is not a warrior? She was not sure, but tried for some reason. She had never tried to explain her mother to anyone before now.
“My mother was a fighter and her specialty was sword play. She was a warrior through and through. She died in a battle with her sword in her hand,” Sheshona reported with a frown.
“Why that face? Does it pain you to discuss?” Kimberly inquired in a gentle tone. She would not pursue the topic if it bothered her patient, even if she did not understand what it was that Sheshona was talking about.
“It doesn’t pain me at all. She died the death that she wanted. She was just selfish with it. She died too soon. She cheated me,” the pale woman replied with a deeper frown, but also a pout could be seen in her eyes.
Her mother had died much too soon. She had only been twelve. She did not have her chance. That was how she knew that she had not seen a dragon in the sky that day at the pond. It had been a falling star, warning her that she would be the same. She would fall and never get back up.
“She cheated you?” Kimberly echoed. She really did not understand what her patient was going on about.
“She was my obstacle to overcome, but she died before I was able to defeat her,” the raven-haired woman replied.
“What?”
Sheshona shook her head; she could not explain it to a non-warrior. Her doctor did not give in, though and continued to probe her for information and she eventually gave in. She explained as best she could that in her family, it was a tradition for the disciple to defeat the teacher to be considered a master of the style that they practiced; it made sure that the style always evolved. She would never be a master because her mother was her teacher and her mother had died long before she was ready to even be a challenge to that crazy woman. Part of her resented her mother for dying, leaving her forever at the lowest levels of their art and at the mercy of her bastard of a father.
Kimberly was silent through out the explanation, just allowing her patient to relieve her burden of never sharing events in her life or her thoughts with anyone. She would not have been able to add much even if she wanted to because she did not understand much of what was going on. She did understand that Sheshona needed to get it out in the open and she did not want to interrupt out of fear that the pale woman might stop.
…Sheshona told me of her mother today at great length. She may not know it, but she does miss her mother. There were sorrowful undertones in her voice and in her eyes, she looked near tears, but also proud. It is very that she is proud of her mother. She claimed that any emotion that she showed was due to the fact that her mother was the obstacle that she was supposed to overcome, but she would never get the chance. Perhaps that was part of it, but she feels sorrow over the death that she wishes not to acknowledge.
I wonder if she was allowed to properly mourn her mother’s passing. She never talked about it and that might be why she is so conflicted on how to feel. As a strong woman, she seems to believe that now is not the time to mourn and she should be over her mother’s death by now. I promised her that no one gets over their mother’s death, which earned me an odd glare. I think that she appreciated my few words, but maybe, she did not wish to acknowledge that.
(Present)
“Wow, she didn’t try to relate Sheshona’s mother’s death to her so-called disease,” Shego muttered while not believing the other words that she saw. Sheshona had never gotten the chance to overcome her obstacle. Their family tradition was that old? She had no idea; she guessed that she should have listened to her mother’s history lessons two decades ago. Patience never was a virtue that she could get a hold on and when she was a child, it was worse.
“Maybe they didn’t do things that way back then or maybe she didn’t see a link,” Kim offered.
“There’s always a link with these people. I could’ve stubbed my toe when I was a baby and they’d link it to whatever I’m supposed to have,” the thief remarked.
Kim shrugged. She glanced down at the journal page and a phrase caught her eye. “Her mother was the obstacle that she was supposed to overcome.” She remembered Shego saying something similar about her mother.
“Shego,” the slim hero said as the pale woman was about to turn the page.
“Yeah?” the green-skinned villainess replied.
“What does that mean?” Kim asked and she pointed down to the sentence. The older female looked down to see what Kim was going on about. She sighed when she saw; she really did not want to explain that one.
“You’re a nosy little thing,” Shego teased the adventurer.
“Please, explain it,” the petite redhead requested.
Shego sighed. “It’s not really something that you’d understand,” she replied.
“Explain it and we’ll see. You can’t keep dismissing me by saying I won’t understand. I’m not stupid,” Kim pointed out.
“I know you’re not stupid. It’s just the culture of my family and I don’t think you’d understand it.” She then tried to dismiss the issue with a wave of her hand, but it did not work.
“Well, explain it and we’ll see.”
Kim was a persistent little pest, Shego noted in her mind. “My family practices its own very unique brand of martial arts. It’s always changing and getting better. To be considered a master, the student must surpass the teacher. If you can’t beat your teacher, you can’t ever be considered a master and you can’t ever teach the art to someone you feel would help uplift the style. I know a lot of people might think ‘so what’ and move on, but this is our legacy. This is ours and this how we prove ourselves worthy to be in this family. To not be able to be a master, it’s just a hollow feeling. It’s as if you never grew up, like you’re stuck being a five-year-old in not just everyone who is alive, but descendents down the line and you’re like that for the rest of your life. You might as well kill yourself,” Shego explained with a shrug.
Kim nodded. “Believe it or not, I understand that totally,” the younger girl replied.
“Do you?” the pale woman inquired with a bit of disbelief in her voice.
“I’m a Possible. Do you know what would happen if I ever came off mediocre at anything I tried? There is not such thing as average in my family and if you were to be average in anything, you’d get looked at like you had eight heads and snakes growing out of your skull. So, I know what it’s like to push yourself and I know how much it has to hurt if you can’t reach your goal.”
Shego nodded that time; sure, it was not the same thing, but it was probably the closest thing that she would ever get to understanding from someone outside of her family. It felt good to be able to tell someone that, not that she really wanted to acknowledge that feeling. She disliked lying to herself, so she acknowledged it, but then chose to ignore it.
“So, do you feel like a kid because you haven’t surpassed your teacher?” Kim asked her guest.
“Hell no! I’m taking that old bat down the second she decides to fight me. She says the lessons for me are continuing and she won’t fight me if there’s more that I need to learn. Her claim is that I need self-control,” the pale woman sighed.
Her mother was right, she always silently admitted that. She gave into her anger too easily and as long as she did that, she would not be able to do a thing against that ancient monster. Fighting Kim did help her calm down somewhat and she had learned to control herself by making sure to remain at Kim’s level while fighting her. Soon, she was going to be ready for her mother; she promised herself that. Part of her knew and acknowledged that her mother wanted her to beat her and she wanted to make the succubus woman proud, so she had to get better.
“You can’t just challenge her?” Kim asked curiously.
“If I want to get my head taken off,” Shego replied with blunt honesty. She was still having so many slips of the tongue around the redhead.
“She’s that good?” the hero asked incredulously.
“She beat her mother and father when she was fifteen. My mother is a damn monster,” Shego answered. She was pretty sure that soon she would be able to take her mother, but she really had to get her rage under control.
“Wow, I didn’t know that they came tougher than you actually,” Kim commented in a mumble. It was not that she did not want the thief to hear, but she had not even realized that she was going to say that.
“And why would you say that?” the pale woman inquired.
“Because I’m not blind, Shego. I can tell when you fight me, you’re just messing around most of the time. I don’t know why, though,” Kim confessed.
“You caught my interest after a couple of fights,” Shego admitted with a shrug, as if it was no big deal.
“I caught your interest?” Kim echoed in a confused tone.
“Well, first it was your style. I know you think I’m pure evil and just a no-good thief, but mostly, I’m a warrior. I live to fight. I thought you might too.”
“You think differently now?” the redhead inquired because the words seemed to imply that.
“I know differently. You’re a creature I’ve never seen before. You might as well be a freaking leprechaun to me, Kimmie,” the sidekick answered with a bit of a laugh.
“Then you’re after me pot o’ gold, are ya?” Kim joked and Shego could not help laughing, mostly because of the face that the little hero made to go with the remark. She did not know that the kid could be silly if given the chance.
“You still offer me a lot of help, but you would’ve made a great student,” the pale woman commented under her breath and that shocked Kim.
Shego had been considering her as a student? Was that why she had been so disappointed that faithful night? Shego really thought that highly of her? She never thought have thought such a thing was plausible and she was flattered.
“You could still teach me,” Kim proposed.
“Nope, I don’t feel like it anymore,” Shego replied to dismiss the whole issue.
In reality, she did not think that Kim was suited for the way of life that the style required. There was nothing to do with honor or something like that, but there did have to be dedication. The style was first, getting better and evolving the style was the greatest priority in life. After all, to beat the master, the student had to show up with some new moves that the master never expected, or an old move used in a new way. The student had to search for mediums that no one else thought of to change the style; that was part of why Shego had become a cat burglar. She figured that somehow she could use the career in modifying her style; she was right so far.
“What kind of answer is that?” Kim inquired as if she was bit insulted. There she was feeling flattered and now Shego was flaking out on her.
“The one I’m giving you, now stop yelling,” the moss-hued villainess ordered.
“You can’t tell me to stop yelling in my own home!” Kim huffed.
“I just did. Now, stop yelling and let’s take a break. I’ll even fix dinner,” Shego declared.
“Spanking!” the redhead cheered. She had been getting home-cooked meals for the past few days and she to admit that she was loving it. She wished that it would never end. “Oh, and for the record, I don’t think you’re pure evil,” she added as Shego removed herself from the sofa.
Shego smiled a little; her back was facing Kim, so it was safe to smile. “Like I care what you think,” she shot back, but it did not carry the weight that her usual snaps did. It was not her typical biting tease. Kim only smiled in response.
Next time: there are discussions of marriage and an apparent date, not that it’s called a date. It certainly looks like a date. Is the doctor starting to fall under Sheshona’s spell?