[ Alan's already straight booting it out of his place to the common room, a thermos full of coffee and an extra cup carefully placed in his messenger bag. He's got his suit on this time, and nods a little when he sees Sheehan. ]
Sheehan's in his suit and tie like he always is, but walks into the room with a smile. "Sure thing, Mr. Wake. You make this sound like some sort of interview."
"Maybe it is." It's not aggressive so much as pointed, turned towards Sheehan and his small smile. Alan doesn't smile back, but his brows lift a fraction of an inch.
"So you know her rather well?" he wonders, leaning forward a little. He doesn't know what the relationship is here, but it's - strange all the same. That Alan should be so invested in her redemption. Enough to confront Sheehan about it. He's wildly curious.
"Part of being the shrink is to make sure we're both talking the same language. To me, letting her do things for herself might be fixing her. To you, it obviously isn't," he points out gently. "So what are you afraid of happening to her, Mr. Wake?"
Bit of an odd way to phrase it, but Alan tries to pay that no mind. It's just shrink talk or something, surely.
"She's in more of a vulnerable position than she thinks she is. She's got trust issues, and I don't blame her--but she wants to change. And if someone fucks her over enough, even if it's not intentional," he looks pointedly at Sheehan, "that might be enough to have her rethink that."
Alan's jaw works in the same way it does when he tries to puzzle anything else out or consider something with serious thought: he grinds his teeth, trying to sincerely reach some sort of conclusion, but when he can't it folds back onto Sheehan easily.
"Don't treat her as crazy, I guess? Shouldn't you know what to do given your profession?"
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[The word chat is punctuated with a hard T at the end, though it doesn't seem overly malicious. ]
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But go ahead. We can chat. Are you a friend?
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Common room? Cafeteria? Cabin?
[ he does not want to have a conversation as important as this on the phone. ]
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[ And of course, the question he asks everyone: ]
You do coffee?
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[ Alan's already straight booting it out of his place to the common room, a thermos full of coffee and an extra cup carefully placed in his messenger bag. He's got his suit on this time, and nods a little when he sees Sheehan. ]
Hey--have a seat.
[ That sounds awful trite. Alan says it anyway. ]
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"Banana's a good kid, I worry about her."
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He gestures to him. "What exactly are you worried about?"
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He shakes his head, not realizing his hands are in fists. Purposefully smoothing them out, he starts again.
"She's not the type of person that can be poked. It won't help. She needs to figure out stuff on her own."
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"God, no. Not well at all. But we've talked a bit about some things, and I consider her a friend. There are..."
He pauses, trying to weigh his words. He doesn't mind talking about himself, but it's Nana he wants to be careful of when it's with information.
"We're very similar in a lot ways. She's not going to just trust you."
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He leans forward, hands on his knees.
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"I suggest you take the time to know her, judgement free." It seems like a simple ask, sure, but Alan's automatically wary.
"And don't try to fix her."
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"She's not going to do anything if you just tell her to do something. You're going to have to let her do it herself."
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"She's in more of a vulnerable position than she thinks she is. She's got trust issues, and I don't blame her--but she wants to change. And if someone fucks her over enough, even if it's not intentional," he looks pointedly at Sheehan, "that might be enough to have her rethink that."
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"Don't treat her as crazy, I guess? Shouldn't you know what to do given your profession?"
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"But she's not - crazy. Not in the way that would make it impossible for her to reach whatever parameters the Admiral has set for her."
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