Tears for Fears

[Kruger]

Shout

And when you've taken down your guard
If I could change your mind
I'd really love to break your heart ~ Tears for Fears

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The woman had been crying. Kruger didn't know who she was, didn't eaves drop on her name as she stopped with the receptionist to schedule another appointment, but she had been crying. Right now she was in the aftermaths of it, her face still holding splotches of red across her cheeks that stood out against the pallor of the rest of her skin. She wore a smile now, but it was fragile. A hard wind could bring the first hints of a crack to the thing she held on her face. She didn't do more than glance his way, no recognition in the look. He was okay with that, sometimes being unknown was more comfortable. Time ticked away slowly in that way which turns five minutes into an hour. Still, he wasn't really ready when the receptionists phone rang, and he was told he could go on back.

The door was opening before he reached it, but not before he had been able to read the name plate affixed to it. Dr. Evana Espinosa MD. "Please come in and have a seat. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Allen." Evana paused there, as though expecting something. She shook her head a little. There was no embarrassment in the gesture. "Forgive me, I normally get the standard..." She put a bit of baritone in her voice. "...Don't call me Mr. Allen, that's my father's name." She offered her hand to him, but he didn't take it.

Kruger nodded his understanding. "Ah." He offered up an apologetic shrug to Evana. "Well, it's not my father's name, so I can understand your confusion." He looked at the the licenses on the wall announcing that Dr. Evana Espinosa was an MD in Psychiatry. All of the chairs looked to be comfortable, there wasn't a couch, and he couldn't see any head shrinking equipment. He sat in the least comfortable looking chair, the one with exposed wooden armrests. "You got the medical release? Have my records?" He already knew the answer, he wouldn't have been able to schedule until she'd received them, but he needed to be able to start somewhere.

Evana opened a filing cabinet drawer and pulled out a manila envelope. "I did, thank you. Is that what you wanted to talk about?" She manipulated to metal closure, removing the file from the envelope before taking the seat across from him. Kruger caught the hint of a frown on her face as she leafed through the injury diagrams. He knew what she was seeing, the documentation of injuries which could only have been received when he was very young. She looked up at him, her face carefully veiled of any expression while she waited for him to respond.

"No, not really." He shifted a bit in his seat, crossing his ankles. His arms followed suit moving into his lap, but they too were crossed one over the other. "I was just trying to get comfortable, I guess. Start talking about something."

"You don't get comfortable with people easily, do you?" Evana was just looking at him, her hands folded together over the documents in her lap as though they were forgotten.

"Not particularly. Most of the time I feel like my presence here, or there just doesn't matter." He leaned his head to the right, brows dropping slightly even as his eyes lowered to regard the carpet. "That feels like admitting something about myself. I don't do that a lot either."

"Is that why you created your public persona?" Evana's acknowledgement of what Kruger had just said was peripheral at best. In his head he knew that she'd done it on purpose, keeping her probing of him gentle so that he wouldn't put up a defensive wall.

"You mean, The Anvil?" He watched her nod, it was one of those in which her eye contact on him never faltered. "There's something that almost nobody knows about me. I've been the anvil for longer than I've been Kruger. It had nothing to do with feeling like I belonged, and everything to do with it was who I needed to be in order to get through the day." Kruger stopped there, pulling up short of things that he wasn't sure he was ready to reveal to Evana.

He could tell she wanted to know more, and was aware that the wrong inquiry would make him go into an impenetrable shell. He could see her forming the words in the pause between his reply, and her next question. He was expecting more to be asked about it, maybe something like, tell me more about this. What she gave him wasn't what he would have considered. "You said longer than since you've been Kruger. Where did that name, anvil come from? Did your parents call you that?"

"My parents never called me that." He almost let that be the extent of what needed to be said, but she had asked where the name came from as well. Kruger chewed on the inside of his bottom lip while he figured out how he would answer, or if he should. He didn't think there would be any harm done in relaying it, but one never could tell with a head shrinker. Finally he chose to move forward, though he did measure his words very strictly. "The name came from a woman named Elle, though she said it as Nicovală. Loosely translated it means anvil. I think she needed to call me something, and she knew that I didn't respond well to boy. She eventually just started calling me Nico, unless she was disappointed in me, or maybe just trying to get my attention. Then it was the full Nicovală." Measured or not, uttering the words pulled something more out of him. "It was the only identity I knew I could count on for a long time."

"I assume that your parents did name you, why didn't you use that one?" It was the obvious question, and he'd been expecting it. He'd been tempted to head the question off by explaining first. He'd resisted the urge to say more, he didn't really know why.

"I... they took away my name when I was apprenticed. The place I went to wouldn't accept any names that weren't of the clan. I wasn't of the clan to begin with, so..." Kruger looked away from Evana towards the window. It didn't reveal too much, he was too far away to see what was below them. The only thing he could really see was the brick wall of the building across the alleyway from the window. "...I had to earn my name and my place."

"How old were you?" Evana asked.

"Seven." Her simple question, evoked a similarly simple response.

"Wow, it must have been difficult at that age to lose your identity." Kruger shifted in his seat again. He needed to move, change things up. In the process of swapping out the leg crossing, left now being over right, he brought his gaze back to Evana.

"I was taught pretty early that the use of that name wasn't going to be tolerated." His palms moved to the armrests of the chair so that he could push on them and shift his backside further into the seat.

Kruger awaited the next question almost nervously. Evana to this point had proven to be quite deft at easing around possible pain points, but he knew that eventually she'd be more direct. He wasn't sure how he would respond to direct. "Can you tell me about it?"

That was not exactly how he'd expected it to go. He had to think about what she'd asked. Could he tell her? It remained to be seen, but... Kruger pushed himself out of the chair, he needed to move right now. It might make things easier to discuss. "I was tricked." He started to pace as he talked, though the movement wasn't exactly making things any better. He started to use his thumbnail to scratch away an old callus on his forefinger. "The person said he wanted to know who to call for if for some reason I needed to hide." He stopped his pacing and turned to face her as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I got such a beating that night. Petra had gone right to Grimm..." Kruger gave several small headshakes, trying to clear away the memory. "They taught me pretty early that I couldn't trust my name to anyone. It doesn't matter now. That kid wasn't strong enough anyway."

"Do you think he's strong enough now?" If she was affected at all by the change in him, he could neither hear it in her voice, nor see it in her demeanor.

"I'm not sure I understand the question." That might not be one hundred percent true, why else would his skin have suddenly gone cold?

"You said yourself that Nicovală was the name given to the boy, by Elle." Evana looked up at the clock before continuing. "We're out of time, but I want you to make an appointment for next week, and in the meantime consider this. If the boy was called anvil, and that's the name you take onto yourself in the spotlight as it were. Are you simply trying to demonstrate that the kid is strong enough now?" Evana had risen as she asked the question, and made her way to the office door to usher him out. It wasn't a dismissal, this felt more like giving him time to dwell on the question and all the nuances that might go with it.

Kruger stopped at the receptionists desk to make his next appointment. There was someone seated in the waiting room, he didn't recognize them. They might not recognize him either. He walked out of his session feeling unfulfilled, and that nothing had been accomplished. All he had was questions now, and he wasn't sure that having those kinds of questions was a good thing.

[Kruger]

Shout: Part 2


In violent times
You shouldn't have to sell your soul
In black and white
They really really ought to know ~ Tears for Fears

—----------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Evana Espinosa had been getting her coffee order filled, and just happened to be outside when she noticed her next client across the street in the little park. She stood to observe the man in much the same way he was watching over a boy who looked to be on the edge of teenhood. There was concern on his face as he watched the boy, who looked enough like him that there could be no doubt as to the relationship. The boy almost recklessly performed acrobatic feats, and with each successful landing pride showed on his father’s face. When the boy failed, she could see the desire in his father to rescue him. She watched as he overcame that and settled in to encourage him to keep trying. Evana already knew enough about the man to understand how difficult it was for him. She went inside, leaving the pair of them so that she could prepare for the session with Kruger.

She hadn’t been the one who had initially been given this case. It had gone to the psychiatrist that she shared her practice with. Her brother had been excited at first to be able to spend time with the well known duelist of fists, swords, and magic. The disappointment on his face was obvious the day he’d called her into his office and handed her the heavy file containing Kruger’s medical records. She wasn’t surprised by the size of the file, he was a willing participant in some very violent sports. It was only as she began to look through the file that it became clear why Estabon had differed the case to her. The file only covered the last fifteen years that Kruger had been actively fighting. The evidence contained within all of the x-rays, and the multiple pages of injuries detailed on charts predating his time in those violent sports said everything. Estabon knew this was something she was better suited for. He’d even said it himself when she looked up from the file. ’You’re the one who specializes in early trauma and abuse.”

Evana was glad to have witnessed the scene in the park. There was a lot said in the way father and son interacted with each other. The boy, so obviously, wanted to succeed in mastering the tricks he was doing, but the way he looked back to his father showed that he sought approval. Kruger struggled to overmaster his protective instincts and freely give what his son was seeking. It was a good sign, even as it exposed to her the depth of damage that had been done. He sat with her now, having taken a more comfortable chair than he’d done in his other sessions. Still, it was the one in a corner of her office, which let her know that he still lacked trust. It was progress, even if it was slow in coming.

“You’ve had a very eventful week.” Evana downplayed the importance of the circumstances which had the sportscasters and journalists talking. She did this knowing that it was how Kruger viewed himself, just a small part of everything. She’d seen his reactions to what was happening, and how out of balance his response was compared to whatever slight he’d seen. She’d also seen his press conference, and understood what his apology really meant.

“Yeah, I may have gone a little overboard. I said as much, publicly.” His eyes held that same thing she’d seen from the boy outside. That search for approval, only she had to remain passive. It wouldn’t be good to either encourage or discourage him. “I found a time where my presence mattered. Discovered that sometimes, I am strong enough.” He finished looking at his hands looking ashamed that he’d dared to consider himself the things he’d declared.

“What was it that made you act out that way?” Evana didn’t acknowledge his shame, her goal was to keep him from closing down on her. He stirred just a bit in front of her, chin rising just a little and his eyes on the designs on the carpet in her office.

“Sometimes I see things, and they make me… Someone needed to stand up and say enough. It probably moved me because of my friendships with the people involved.” Evana watched his eyes rise higher, his head never moved, but she was sure he could see her. He was judging her as closely as she did him.

“Do you think that maybe your response was out of proportion?” His face pinched up, eyebrows descending, but there was no anger in his face. What lived there was self reflection. He was considering her question very seriously. His head tilted to the right, and that shoulder rose to almost meet his ear.

“Yes, and no.” Kruger’s face finally came up to look at her across the space between them. “I could have kept it on a level that other people might believe was justifiable. That only would have escalated things. It would have left my friend open to being attacked, and he was never truly involved in any of it. My reaction, it was like a loud clap of thunder… so loud that it drew all attention to me. So I could stand up like a wall and let nobody near.”

“You don’t think that your friends can handle those things themselves?” Evana had kept the question just as passive as the others. No judgment from her, just simple curiosity. She could still see the barest flinch from him in the question.

“Of course they can, probably better than I can.” Evana nodded at the answer, even as she saw his expression hardening.

“And yet you did what you did, and you did it how you did. You still haven’t answered the why of it, Kruger.” She leaned back away from him, opening her stance in her chair and maintaining the air of openness with him.

“Because, they shouldn’t have to. I wasn’t going to allow it this time.” His words were crisp, there was heat in each consonant as he spit out his reason.

“Kruger…” Evana said his name softly to try to touch the part of him that wasn’t angry, so that she would have all of his attention on what came next. “...is it possible that you wouldn’t let it happen, that the reason you responded like a hammer… was because you knew how it felt to have nobody stand up for you?”

The first time she’d seen him in person, Evana had taken note that he wasn’t much taller than she was. Yet the sheer size of him was imposing. She knew that if he had it in mind to do, that he could break her in the grip of one hand. That size had never been obvious the few times she’d seen him on screen, in a ring with someone just as equipped to fight. Here, there was nothing she’d be able to do if he chose to lash out against her physically. He was strong, and he was secretive giving only the barest amount of himself to her. She’d spent weeks building him to the point where he started to act with a confidence that he’d only mimicked before. Still there was that part of his past that he wouldn’t go near, wouldn’t let her approach either.

In a way, all of the weeks of work had brought him to this point. Strong as he was, as unbreakable as he considered himself to be. Evana watched his body fold forward in his chair, and heard him break with the sound of a sob from deep in his core. She’d stripped him bare on the inside, revealing that even if he wasn’t willing to tell, even if she didn’t know the details, she knew what he refused to say. She’d thought that when she had gotten him to this point that there would be a feeling of deep satisfaction in her. The kind that came from knowing she was helping someone. Truthfully, there might have been some of that in her too, but seeing it play out before her had left her with something unexpected. Wiping the tears that had found their way into her own eyes, Evana embraced what came next. Now that he’d admitted things, the real work would start. Now would come the path to healing.

[Kruger]

Shout: Part 3

Shout
Shout
Let it all out
These are the things I can do without
Come on
I'm talking to you
Come on ~ Tears for Fears

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

The window in Evana’s office did not have a good view. It showed the brown painted bricks of the building across an alleyway. It was nearly the same level as the one her office was in, so there was a bit of sky that could be spotted. Of course it was usually cloudy these days. If you stood a certain way, leaning your left shoulder on the wall and laying your head against it, you got to see the parking garage. That was the reason she parked on top of it, so she could at least check on her car once in a while. She would have believed that Kruger was looking at her car, since that was the position he’d taken up. She’d have believed, if she could tell that his mind wasn’t even in the same room with them.

There was some vulnerability in the position, he couldn’t see her to know where she was. That implied that some trust had been gained at the very least. Evana knew there was more to it than the progress she’d made getting through all the pitfalls of his defenses. She knew that his position was also one of those defenses. It was a different kind though. This wasn’t something that he was putting up to protect himself from being hurt. He had something to say, and wouldn’t be able to do it if he could see her face.

Evana waited patiently as the moments ticked by, and Kruger shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. He would begin, or he wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first session where nothing had been said. She’d used her hello pleasantries already. She opened his file and started to go over her notes, visibly sending a signal that she was present, but that he wasn’t directly in her focus. It had been a nearly silent act, and yet it had been noticed. She could tell when the silence was broken.

“I’m not a good father sometimes.” He said the words like he was letting her down. “Sometimes I am very good. I haven’t ever done to him any of what was done to me.” Kruger’s right hand went up to pick at an imperfection in the wall with his finger nail. “I am so proud of who he is, and happy that he’s got so many good friends.”

As if he had grown self conscious of the picking at the wall, Kruger pushed that hand into his pocket. “Recently I’ve become aware that I’m jealous of his life. It’s stupid, right? I’ve done everything I can think of so that he can be who and what he wants.” He changed positions again, standing straighter, and planting both fists on his hips. He still wasn’t looking at her though. “He’s grown beyond the things we used to do. I expected it, hell I encouraged it. This just doesn’t seem like the way I am supposed to feel.”

For the first time since the session had begun, Kruger turned far enough to see Evana. She’d shut the folder and swiveled her chair to face him. “And I’m afraid because I don’t know what comes next. All my memories of being twelve are of waking up when the sun was setting, and working all night long…” Evana almost didn’t hear the word that was barely more than a breath through lips mouthing it. “...alone.”