by Icabu

Dr. Serena Blackstone opened the file for her next patient. Sighing, she read over the notes from the last session. She hadn’t gotten anywhere in three sessions. Her pink painted nail tapped on the papers – time for something more unorthodox. She’d done quite a bit of research on this stubborn patient and was quite impressed. She wasn’t easily impressed, but the man had lived nearly his entire life for the department. Even though the department had dismissed his resignation and grudgingly offered early retirement, she was far from convinced it was in her patient’s best interest to leave the fire service just yet. At the knock on her door, Serena closed the file. Now all she had to do was convince Battalion Chief John Gage of that.

"Chief Gage is here, Doctor."

"Thanks, Leslie," Serena acknowledged her assistant. "Please show him in."

The tall, dark and handsome man entered her office, quietly closing the door behind him. As he walked to the chair in front of her desk, Serena noted that his limp was barely noticeable now. At least his physical therapy appeared to be getting results. It was time for her psych therapy to do the same.

He sat quietly in the chair, apparently studying her as she did him. At their first session, he’d worn a suit with a tie, next session he’d ditched the tie, now he wore jeans, a flannel shirt and a denim jacket. Maybe he was getting more comfortable with the sessions – or he’d given up on making a professional impression.

"Doctor," he said, nodding his head slightly in her direction.

"Chief," she returned.

"Ex-chief," he corrected.

"Not for a couple of months yet."

"Semantics." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"You look … comfortable, Chief." She leaned back in her chair, her sign that the session had begun.

"John," he requested. "Comfortable? Hardly." He crossed his legs. "For here, I’d use resigned."

"Resigned to what, John?" She accepted his request.

"Being here." He waved his hand, encompassing her office. "Doing this."

"This," she waved similar to how he had, "is at the request of the Department."

"I know that." He picked at something unseen on his pant leg.

"They want you back on the job, John."

His glare burned into her. "No, they don’t."

Serena recalled the impassioned letter from Fire Chief DeSoto on John Gage’s behalf. She knew the history between her patient and the Fire Chief. She wouldn’t share the letter with John, but it reinforced her own conclusions that John needed to put the incident a month past behind him and continue with his career. She should be able to help him resolve his doubts about his decisions that night. No one else blamed him for what happened. Except for John himself.

"You’re the only one, John." She picked up his file and slapped it sharply on her desk. "The only one that doesn’t want you back doing what you do best."

"Best?" He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in the chair. "If my best is getting a firefighter killed …" He sat back. "Killed. And two others facing a hell of a rough road back. If that’s my best, then retirement is better than what I deserve."

"John." She watched him struggle to keep his face neutral, hard as stone. "You carried one of those firemen out yourself. Receiving injuries yourself."

"The very least I could do."

Serena knew she was losing him. He was closing her out, like always. He didn’t want to see the incident as an accident. There had to be blame and he wanted to sacrifice himself to it.

"There was no way for you to know the inventory sheets were wrong. The building owner had falsified those documents. He’s going to prison for it." The trial had ended two days ago, so Serena hoped that would be enough for John to drop the responsibility for the explosion that shouldn’t have happened.

"I sent that crew in there. I did." He accentuated his point by poking a rigid finger to his chest.

"And you helped get them out after the explosion. And kept everyone out since the building’s contents were unknown," Serena reasoned.

"I sent them in."

"Which is normal procedure. There shouldn’t have been a problem."

"It was more than a ‘problem’," John said between clenched teeth. "A young man died. Two more were damn close to it."

"And every fireman knows that’s a possibility from the time he enters the academy."

John stood, fury etched on his face. "I will not hide behind that. When I’m on scene, I’m responsible for what happens."

"Please sit, John." Serena waited until he returned to the chair, sitting stiffly. "I know you’re not hiding from anything." It was time for the unorthodox. Serena knew she’d lost him now.

"What I want you to do, John, is to write yourself a letter." She handed him a notepad and pen. "To your young self – when you’re entering the academy or going to sign up for the paramedic program. Knowing what you know now, with all the experience you have on the job now, tell your young and inexperienced self what the job this eager young man is about to embark on holds in store for him." Seeing John’s exasperated look, she continued. "I want you to really think about what the job has taught you, what it has brought to your life, how you’ve grown through the years. Tell this young man what it is like to have reached Battalion Chief for the Los Angeles County Fire Department. I’m sure he wasn’t thinking that far ahead then."

"This is crazy."

"No, John. It isn’t." Serena stood. "I’ll give you the rest of the session to write the letter. Alone. You’ve got about thirty minutes. Remember the dreams of that young man, John."

Serena left her office, giving Leslie instructions to write down the time when Chief Gage leaves her office. Needing some therapy of her own, she wound through the hospital hallways. She entered the office of the Head of Nursing and smiled to find her target standing by her assistant’s desk.

"Dixie, would you be up for an early lunch?"

After checking her watch and giving Serena’s face a studious glance, Dixie smiled. "Of course."

*****

Feeling better after a lengthy, light lunch with Dixie Brackett, Serena returned to her office.

"Chief Gage left at twelve fifteen, Doctor," Leslie announced.

Serena nodded her head. John had taken nearly the entire remaining time to write the letter. She hoped that was a good sign.

"You gave him an appointment for next week, same time?" Serena inquired.

"Yes, ma’am. He just nodded as he walked out."

"How’d he seem?" Serena lowered her voice, softened it to indicate this wasn’t official information, just observation.

"He seemed … calm. Yes, calm is how he seemed." Leslie grinned at Serena. "Not agitated like after the other sessions."

Unable to help herself, Serena laughed. "Yeah, I have to agree that I agitated him."

"But not today," Leslie added.

"I did my share today. But, maybe, I’ve reached another plane. A better one." Serena entered her office, leaving the door open a crack. Her next appointment wasn’t until three so she had time to see what results her new tactic wrought.

She sat at her desk and stared at the neatly tri-folded paper sitting atop the notepad in the center of her desk, the pen placed neatly to the right. The letter was folded as if it were to be stuffed into an envelope and mailed. It gave her additional insight into the man that had called this idea ‘crazy’.

Unfolding the paper, she was surprised that he’d used cursive writing. Most men she knew didn’t. The length also surprised her. If he thought the idea crazy, he must also think he was, too.

Settling back in her padded leather chair, the sun from the partially blinded windows at her back highlighting the paper, she read.

The letter trembled in Serena’s hand. She hadn’t had any expectations with this letter exercise, but John’s response far exceeded whatever she could have thought. She read it through again, then leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She’d had men, tough men, cry in her office as she’d brought them to some realization or another, but this … she had no words for it. She almost felt embarrassed, like she’d seen something she shouldn’t have – that she didn’t have the right to see. But he had shown her and himself. She ran her fingers across his signature on the letter and smiled a little that he’d included his position. She looked forward to their next meeting.

*****

Serena sat at her desk and sighed at the stack of folders that had accumulated on her desk while she’d been away for two weeks. Luckily, most were just cases that were closed and needed to be signed off for archiving. As she grabbed the umpteenth file, her hand faltered. A smile spread across her face. It had been a year since she’d finalized therapy for Battalion Chief John Gage. His recovery was complete and he was working as hard and dedicated as ever. She signed the routing slip to send the file to Archiving.

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Letters Challenge                 Stories by Icabu