Overeating - Cassandra

Spencer was not in his right mind. A person rarely was when there heart was broken, were they? He just didn't understand. He had tried to get why James would just leave him like that. But he couldn't. He couldn't find any good reason for him to end things just like that. Unless it was because of what Spencer had feared all along; That it was too much for him, that it was too hard to love him. Needless to say, Spencer was not handling it very well. Or handling it at all. It was nothing new that he was on drugs, but it was usually limited, something he used to get by. He didn't see it as an abuse. It was not that different to him than having to eat. But then of course he would "overeat" whenever things got hard. Like now. He was walking towards the Patrons head-quarter. He had spent some time at Nathaniel's place, but right now it seemed like Kenna needed it more. And he had other places to go. Kenna didn't, not in the same way. He was almost halfway down the street to the head quarter when he felt a pain in his chest. He clutched his shirt before he fell down the wall and sat against it breathing shallowly. He picked up his phone and ran his finger over it as the rain not only drenched him, but also made it more difficult use the phone. He could either call Cassandra or Tidus. But he couldn't face Tidus right now. He needed Cass. He called her and put his phone to his ear. He heard a sound, but wasn't completely sure if it was her picking up or the call going to voice mail. "Cass..." He said weakly. "I-I need help." He continued and closed his eyes a moment. He was so tired. "Outside the head quarter," he said before he tilted over and laid on ground as rain continued to fall over him, his phone in his hand, the call to Cassandra still active.

She had not been sleeping for days. Bienvido and Tidsu had tried to make her go home, or at least take a nap, but she resisted. She insisted on being at the headquarter, solely to avoid going back home and dealing with her personal life. Work seemed easier than whatever had happened back home. Tidus had left by the end of the afternoon. Bienvido on the other hand had stayed with her for a while, eating some takeout and talking about things that they should have been sharing months ago when she moved in. They barely knew each other, she had come to realize, as a good amount of his quirks, likes and dislikes felt like completely new information to her. It pained her to admit that she had been far too occupied by trying to avoid feeling anything, that she had ignored every little sign there had been that the werewolf actually might just have liked her as more than a colleague and a roommate.

She was looking through the contract, all curled up on the desk chair. It was massive and comfortable, but not enough for her to doze off. The coffee in front of her steamed so gently, and the dessert Bienvido had left for her awaited her indulging later. The contract had been written and signed by her assistant, Perceval. He was a nice kid, but he had been in deep with the Techniques. She had decided to pay for him to go to law-school, if he assisted her in the Patrons - a fair deal he had been happy to accept. Of course, Perceval had been shipped off to the States to study at Harvard for a semester, leaving her to deal with the last step of the contract herself; meeting the contractors and finalizing the deal. Tidus knew none of it - neither about the safe-houses or the deal with the rehab-center. If he knew, he would want to participate in it, and she wanted something to be hers alone - at least for now.
She ran her fingers across the page stating the terms and conditions as she looked at her phone. Suddenly, it rang. She picked up rather quickly, only to listen to the sleepy voice of a Patrons-member asking for her help. She guessed what was wrong, as she got up from her chair - grabbed her keys to the black Audi and with hasty steps left the office - being only about two-hundred feet from the exit of the headquarters. She was wearing a suit - as she did most days at work - with black trousers, a black blazer and a white shirt. Of course, she was wearing heels, making it clearly announced where she was heading. She spewed an order to one of the remaining members to make sure to close up when he left, only for her to leave the headquarters. ‘’Oh dear,’’ she gasped, as she saw the banshee had collapsed a few feet from her. She pulled out her phone and dialed up the number for the rehab-center she had a meeting with the next day. ’’I have an in-house patient for you… No, it’s not up to debate… You’ll take him in tonight, or I’ll cancel my support… Do you even know who you’re speaking with? Then I’ll tell you! You’re speaking to Cassandra Avalynn McGivens, and you will do as I say, or I will sue you for manslaughter!’’ she snarled, all the while she managed to turn Spencer on the side to make sure he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit, if he was to throw up. She checked his pulse, which seemed to be somewhat stable. He had taken too much, she figured, but not enough to die from it if he got the help he needed - or so she deemed the situation to be. In all honesty, she couldn’t be sure. She simply hoped. ‘’Come on, kiddo… Let’s get you somewhere safe,’’ she sighed as she stood up, dragging him on his feet while supporting him. She managed to pick up his phone before she dragged him to the car and placed him in the front row passenger seat. She buckled him in before she got behind the wheel. She hated driving, to be honest, but she understood the need for it completely.

On the car’s monitor, she dialed up the first emergency-contact; Bienvido. A rather sleepy voice answered. ‘’I’ve left the office. I’ve asked Carl to lock up, so if anything’s missing in the morning, you know who to ask.’’ She just said, and rather confused, the werewolf tried to ask what had happened. It all went over the Bluetooth speaker, making so that Spencer could hear it. ‘’Spencer called. I’m taking him somewhere. No need to worry,’’ she said, although that was a lie. All the need to worry! Bienvido tried to say something, but she hung up on him before she shortly looked at Spencer. ‘’Come on! Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!’’ she said, trying to smile at him but deep down, she was panicking.

After what seemed like forever, they arrived at a rehab-facility located outside Gaia. It was almost like a farm - which she found rather nice. A team of a nurse and some man stood there, waiting for them, in the rain. The nurse seemed really vexed with Cassandra, but she paid no attention to that. As soon as the car stopped, Cassandra got out of the vehicle and the nurse went to check on Spencer - leaving Cassandra to be greeted by the mystery-man.

Spencer barely felt or heard anything. He was just away in a dream of so many weird things. Mostly it was just different versions of James saying that he wanted to break up, that he didn't want him. He wasn't causing to much trouble when Cassandra was turning him around. He had picked up on her snarling tone of voice, but her words were sounding like a blur. He got on his feet and did what he could to get to the car without her having to strain herself. He was sat down and he didn't move once on the whole car ride. Spencer opened his eyes just a little when she said something about eggs. "Is there bacon?" He asked weakly and shortly looked out the window before his eyes fell shut again. He looked up at the nurse who suddenly stood by his side. Weren't they just on the road?

The man was a psychiatrist, who was connected to the program. He was helping people with addiction understand why they had an addiction in the first place. Or at least that was his cover. He had other motives for being there, but none he was speaking of out loud. He was wearing a simple black shirt and an black jacket over it and darkblue jeans. It was some of his most low-key clothes. He preferred to be seen and to always be the center of attention. That attitude didn't work very well as a psychiatrist. He walked to the woman and looked at her with his dark brown gaze. "The nurses will take the greatest care of him." He sent her a smile that was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn't his strongest suit. "I have asked the nurses to come get me once he is stable. You can see him then. In the mean time, can I offer you something to drink?" The woman wasn't his main objective, but he had some time to spill, so he might as well spend it with a beautiful woman.

The nurses helped Spencer inside. He was still barely awake and the one nurse has to ask another to come help him inside. "Shall we?" He asked the woman and gestured towards a farmhouse where they could get something to drink while they waited.

She wanted to chuckle warmly at him for asking, but as soon as he had asked, he dozed off again. She grinded her teeth, as she allowed herself to tap a little on the speeder to get to the facility faster. The moment they had arrived, she had felt like it was a bad idea to be there - but she had written that off to be because she was concerned about Spencer. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

The first thing she noticed was the low-key attire the psychiatrist was dressed in. How well the clothes fit him, making him look like someone had dressed him for a photoshoot. The next thing she noticed, was the dark brown eyes - just like her own. Her heart started racing, for no apparent reason, as she listened to his voice; a voice that gave her goosebumps and wanted to make her shiver, although she managed to avoid it be looking at Spencer while nurses tried to take him with them. ‘’They better, with the amount I’m paying them,’’ she said, before she looked back at the psychiatrist. Although she had always felt a burning desire to bite off every psychiatrist’s nose for getting too close to her, this man seemed different. Her whole being screamed to be closer to him; smell him; feel him. She had experienced that only once before, and the sheer memory of that made her anxious.

Time stood still, as she looked at him inviting her to have something to drink with him. Her immediate thought was ‘heck no!’, but that wasn’t the words that passed her lips as she answered. ‘’Yes, please,’’ she answered, at least keeping her manners intact. She locked her car, before she looked shortly at Spencer as he got escorted inside. Then, the voice - that damn alluring voice - gestured for her to follow him. How could she not!? She nodded slightly, before she placed the key in the pocket of her blazer and followed the psychiatrist as they walked to the farmhouse.

The man put his hands into his pockets and looked solely at the woman. She really was beautiful. He had always appreciated beauty. Even back before art was a thing, he would gather the most beautiful flowers he could find and offer them to the person he enjoyed at that moment. He noticed how her eyes stayed on him for longer than appropiate. He loved the attention. That was nothing new. He could hear how her heart was racing. She was really affected by this. How exciting. "I would like to think so," he shortly looked towards the nurses as they helped Spencer inside. He would get to him later. Right now, he was much more interested in the beautiful brunette. He led her into the farmhouse. "What would you like?" He asked with a soft smile.

Spencer was taken into a room and helped to the bed. With guidence, they got him hooked up to an IV. It was not the first time he had been through this. Last time was the first time he and James said they loved each other, when they first started dating. Just the thought of it, nearly made him pull out the IV. He just didn't want the help. If he couldn't have James, what was the point of it all? He left it in, however. He had seen how worried Cassandra had been, and it wasn't fair to her. But he just didn't know how to go on after this. He had not exactly taken good care of himself. He just didn't care. He looked at one of the nurses. He laid down on the pillow and drifted off to sleep.

She followed him inside the farmhouse, only to be asked what she wanted to drink. Once again, her mind had decided on alcohol, but even before she was able to say her preferred drink, her body had acted by instinct; ‘’Water will be fine, thank you,’’. It wasn’t like she was going to drink anything excessive, since she was going to drive home later anyway, but she could have gone with a drink or two - although, not at a rehabilitation facility.

Somehow, he felt very pleasant to be around, if it had not been for her body screaming that it wanted him even closer. She knew the feeling; she knew what it meant - but she denied it. She wasn’t going to accept that; solely because she didn’t want another mate. She didn’t even want another relationship - although she had somehow managed to become Bienvenido’s girlfriend, or something, after he had been back at her place. Just the thought terrified her.

She wasn’t sure on what to say, or do, as she had always learned to be weary of doctors of any sort. She trusted them to treat Spencer with the care, attention and dignity she had paid for through her donations, but since she had yet to present herself to the psychiatrist, perhaps he didn’t know who she was at all? It would be a relief, for once not being known as a Dumor, Laveau or McGivens. It would be so comforting, to be her own person - simply just Cassandra - instead of belonging to someone or something because of her name.
‘’I appreciate your kindness,’’ she then said, simply to not come across as rude.

He gave her a nod and went to the fridge to pour her a cold glass. He much preferred water like this, than directly from the tab. He placed it in front of her and went over to prepare some coffee. It was likely he would have to stay up for a while with a new patient and all. He put one hand on his hip, tapping his fingers slowly against his skin as he was waiting. He was not known to be a patient person, but in this place, in this role, he had to be.

He had expected Spencer would end up here eventually. And even if he did seem very patient in his day-to-day life, he could be very patient if it was about revenge or power. And this was about both. So he had found out more about Spencer. When he learned somebody in this mafia was donating to a rehabilition center, it was just too perfect to not take advantage off. He had expected Spencer, but not this woman. She was a nice surprise.

When the coffee was done, he poured a cup and walked to her. He knew who she was. It was her who had made all of this possible. He took a sip of the coffee and looked at her when she spoke. "It is my pleasure." He looked towards the entrance when a nurse appeared. "He is stable now, but not conscious yet." He gave him a nod. "Thank you David." He looked at her again. "Would you like to go see him?" He would like to get to work with him as soon as possible.

She looked at him, as he poured her a glass of water. ''Thank you,'' she said, as he placed it in front of her. To be honest, she felt how her mouth went dry and her heart raced every time he moved closer to her, and she hated the feeling. She hated that she once again needed to fear someone having a power over her that she wanted nothing to do with.

The way the word 'pleasure' left the man's lips made her shiver slightly, but she tried to contain it to make sure he would see it. Perhaps he already had. She sighed slightly, as they got interrupted by the nurse. The eargerness she felt from the psychiatrist made her hesitate. What had Spencer done to catch this man's attention?
''No, actually. I would like to go over the terms of the donations with you,'' she said, slightly veary of the fact that the psychiatrist had yet to present himself. Of course, she already knew his first name, since it was written on her own chest - a fact she cared not to mention.

''When the donation-agreement was formed, I wasn't informed about basis treatment. I do, of course, pay for Spencer's treatment as he is one of our own, but I have yet to be assured that those outside the Patrons will get a similar treatment even without the funds present. After all, that is what the donations has been marked to be; funds for those with no funds themselves.'' she said, lifting her glass to greet the psyciatrist. ''And since you already know that I'm a benefactor, I think it would be suitable to let me know who you are as well.'' she said, with a little smile - the smile as plastic and fake as ever, since she resented the feeling he induced on her.

Dorian did notice how her heart raced, but he didn't think more of it. It was not that different from other people who met him. It was probably because of his abilities, and then because he looked like he did. He was nothing if not arrogant.
He watched the nurse as he walked away before looking back at her as she spoke. "Of course," he said and turned around so he was facing her. He held the cup in his hand and looked at her with a calculating look in his eyes. He was trying to figure her out by just looking at her.

He listened as she spoke again. It was a fair request. "As this is still a new project, we are required to use a small part of the donations to keep the clinic going, but the greater part of the money will be used for the patient who needs it." He might as well say it as it was - mostly. "Yes, I supposed that is proper," he said and rose his cup to clink with her glass gently. "My name is Dorian Lang," he said with a smile. "Please return the favor. There is great power in knowing a name." He took a sip of the coffee. He already knew her name, but it was only proper she had a chance to introduce herself.

Had she bothered to think about her words before spewing them like scolding coffee, she would have noticed how she called herself a benefactor without even mentioning her own name. He surely knew it already, but the good thing about having several names was that she decided herself who she wanted to introduce herself as. The agreement was signed by Avalynn McGivens, since that was her legal name connected to her bank account. Therefor, as he had explained how her donations would be used and then introduced himself with one of the more famous surnames in Scotland, she looked quite curiously at him. "Lang? Like Andrew Lang?" she then asked, referring to the Scottish translator of folk- and fairytales. Then, she realized that she had to introduce herself, resulting in her taking a sip of the water before she nodded slightly. "indeed, there is a certain power in knowing names - especially when a person has only one." she said, with a calm smile - a smile that tried to hide that fact that she was nauseated by the thought of fate mocking her this way. "I'm Avalynn McGivens," she said, resulting in a thick accent of Scottish mixed with Irish presented itself.
"so, are you a wolf or a flame?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood a little. She wasn't sure if he caught on to her little game on his name, since it meant wolf in mandarin and flame in Hungarian. Her own name was something as silly as the female equivalent to her father's surname, since her mother had not been able to let go when her father left, months before she was born.

Dorian had seen the name on the agreement, yet it was her name, hers to tell. He let out an airy chuckle at her connection between the last name he used here and the poet and author. Dorian far more appreciated his original work than his translated work. "Like that name yes, no familiar connection, I'm afraid." He looked at her, almost if he was trying to read her mind. "You impress me," he said straightforward. She was different than most young women around here. He was fairly certain she was not much older than she looked. It was just feeling. She could very well be pulling him by the leg. She surely had the mental compacity to do so. "Very good point," he agreed. "Now it is official. We are no longer strangers," he said. Where her accent was a mix between Scottish and Irish, his own were more towards the French, although it had become less obvious as he had learned to speak more lanugages.

He was not fluent in neither Hungarian nor Mandarin, but he had thought about the name before chosing to use it. He liked a name to have meaning and not be just another word rolling of a person's tongue. "Why not both?" He sent her a slight smirk. "I do not want to cut this short, your company is very delightful, but I should get back to work. Your generous donations should not be wasted on me drinking coffee," he said and emptied the cup before walking over to wash it.

She had no reason to be weary of Dorian, besides the growing unease in her core. Dorian was her mate, chosen by a higher power. She despised that thought, but she chose not to express it, as it would give him a power over her that she in no way, shape or form intended for anyone to possess over her again. ‘’That’s a shame,’’ she said, as he admitted to having no relation besides his name to the famous author. She had always enjoyed the way he had translated from both clan-law and Gaelic when need be. As a Scottish-born witch, she was bound to speak at least one clan-dialect, and after living in Dublin, she had acquired the talent of speaking Gaelic as well. It wasn’t anything she used on the daily, but she was rather proud of it nonetheless.
Dorian looked at her as if he was trying to read her mind; something very few had the ability to do. Then, he complimented her by stating she impressed him. ‘’Is that so? In what way, if I may ask?’’ she asked, a slight smile growing on her lips. Was she suddenly feeling more comfortable around him? It wasn’t likely she would ever relax while near him - not with her body screaming to get closer to him all the time. ‘’Strangers no more, affiliates still,’’ she said, to remind him that simply because they had exchanged names, it didn’t mean that she was about to soften up on her terms for the donations.

As he had picked up on her play on his name, she nodded slightly to acknowledge the fact that he understood her. Then, a slight smirk was sent her way, making her look down at her glass for a moment. ‘’Because something with multiple meanings would simultaneously risk being considered as undecisive or greedy. I am aware that names, however, rarely holds simply one true meaning.’’ She stated, in a way warning him that she was still keeping an eye on his way of working the donations she accounted for.
‘’The key word there, Doctor Lang, is ‘my donations’. Until I’m completely satisfied on allowing you to handle one of my patients, I am afraid you’ll have to suffer through my so-called delightful company.’’ She said, rather smooth; as water passing over a curved rock under a waterfall. She had been pulled by the leg one too many times by people she trusted - both with her time, money and affection. She wasn’t going to allow some doctor to that. ‘’Now, if you would please enlighten me on the process a patient goes through when arriving, purely hypothetical, before we go see mister Lane,’’ she said, once again smooth. She placed the glass on the table next to her, calmly. Of course, she was putting up a façade, as she was terrified of doctors. The moment Dorian would decide to pry her mind open and unleash the terrors inside, she would be done for. Better act tough to prevent such a scenario.

Dorian knew the power of a mate mark. He had met his own mate not that long ago, and he had not been quite the same since. He was thinking about him a lot. He did not know he was Cassandra’s mate, however. He nodded in agreement when she stated it was shame, he was not related to the author. He had both jumped on the wagon of painters and writers when they were on their high, but nothing that had gotten much acknowledgement. ”Most people these days only know who Kim Kardashian is, rather than appreciate the real artists of the world. I got a feeling you are not like them.” He sent her a soft smile, but even as he was doing this, he was wondering if he would ever get to see her dressed in less than this and if so, how she would look. ”Very well put,” he said when she talked about them being affiliates rather than strangers.

Dorian enjoyed her intellect. He didn’t mind someone who didn’t use their brain for much other than bodily functions, but they were usually just a means to an end. Somebody he used very limited time with, and most of it was not spent talking. But he enjoyed speaking with her, which was becoming rarer and rarer. ”I suppose a name can be deceiving in it’s own,” he thought out loud. ”Surely,” he said when she wanted to know what her donations were used on. ”When the patient had been through the necessary medical procedures to stabilize them, they will have a few days to recover, much depending on the severity of their condition. When the doctors deem them ready, I will begin having conversations with them. I will try to uncover the reason behind their abuse. Every case is different, but I will do my best to think of ways to help them deal with the reason behind, rather than have them feel the need to self-medicate.” He put a hand into the pocket of his pants. ”When both the doctors and I, or another psychologist, thinks the patient ready, they will be able to get some more freedom. We do however prefer to keep a close eye on them after they leave here. They will be required to come in for a weekly medical check and conversation with a psychologist. The longer they stay clean, the more robe they get, before we can finally untie them all together.”

She looked at him; knowing that he knew something about her that she didn’t want him to. They all did; they all knew something that could harm her in some way. One day, she would surely mess up, and someone would find her weaknesses too fun to not take advantage off.
‘’I don’t know if I should consider that a compliment or an insulin, Doctor Lang.’’ she said, narrowing her eyes slightly even though she still smiled a calm smile at him. ‘’I trust that as affiliates, I’ll be informed whenever something regarding my donations or patients arises?’’ she asked, knowing that she seemed to be a control freak. She needed to be sure she could trust to be informed.

‘’Well, as long as someone has the power to change a name when in need, a name cannot be given a larger meaning.’’ She then stated, realizing that her own names meant next to nothing to her when push come to shove.
The explanation on what the procedure was made her nod calmly. ‘’I trust that you can assure me that Spencer Lane will be taken care of with the greatest amount of professionalism? I wouldn’t want one of my friends being treated badly by the doctors I trust to get him fit for fight again.’’ She said, looking at him with a calm yet stern look on her face.