"Are you ready to talk about the Force trial?" The Psychiatrist asks.

I am standing at the window pouring rain dripping down depressingly.

"I am ready," I said, with a sigh.

"Start," The Psychiatrist said.

"The DA accused me of killing a co-worker!" I start, turning away. "A co-worker!"

"And you did not do it?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"Hell no!" I said. "That was all bull crap."

"How does that make you feel?" The Psychiatrist asks. "Being accused of a murder you never done."

"Upset," I said.

"How did this co-worker die?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"What I say cannot leave this room," I said.

"I swear to god and hope to die," The Psychiatrist said.

"He was murdered by a gigantic K-nine dark lizard and turned into a egg," I said.

The Psychiatrist raises a brow.

"An...egg?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"An egg," I said, nodding. "Then we blew up the place along with his body. But they somehow brought his body out of the ruins intact with wounds and all." I put my hands on the couch. "It still haunts me to this day...I coulda' done something but really no." I shook my head. "If only I coulda' done something about it."

"Has there something come up about it?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"Recently I got a call from his mother asking if what I told her is a lie," I said. "I reassured her it is not a lie."

"Hmm..." The Psychiatrist said. "You have a teenager at home. Does he know what you are?"

"No," I said.

"You have to tell him one of these days," The Psychiatrist said.

"I will," I said. "Not just now."

"I understand what you do not want to tell him," The Psychiatrist said. "But really? I am your The Psychiatrist but that does not mean keeping it for this long from him is rather healthy for your mind and relationship; one of these day you will slip and think you already told him but it will be news to him."

I lower my head with a sigh.

"Exactly what I have been thinking," I said.

"What has been holding you back?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"Loki is a teenager," I said. "And a born prince. I am afraid that telling him will make him suspicious of why I have been sticking around for so long and he will question my true motives. I don't want to do what deal I made. I...I gave up on that deal long ago and telling Loki is one step closer to the truth coming out."

"You are afraid of his reaction," The Psychiatrist observes.

"Yes," I said, nodding.

"How about we start simulating what if scenarios starting next week?" The Psychiatrist asks. "Anything to help you feel better about telling him. We have plenty of sessions to use."

"And I have been thinking of quitting," I said. "And going public about what happened on Bouvet Island."

"Wouldn't that hurt you?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"Me?" I said. "Hell no. It would hurt the company not me. They framed me for Fred's murder and left me in the wind for a missing representative from another company about Metacla." I pace back and forth. "I do not know what it is! That is what I hate; not knowing. Not knowing what they are using my rock samples for. What Metacla is. One of these days before I quit I will learn."

"What if that never happens?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"If Loki is an adult and out of the picture—which I figure he would jump at the chance of leaving me, anywho—then it is my fight," I said. "I can't just quit without knowing."

"But what if you do quit and then learn?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"It would be one hell of a day," I said. "I really want to tell Loki but...now is not the time. It does not feel right."

I had told The Psychiatrist about Loki and my story excluding the Bouvet Island. "I felt sick when the DA showed me nasty pictures," I said. "It brought painful memories back," I touch at my throat shuddering. "Pretty awful ones I say. I puked one of the Exenomorphs out, ate some rocks, and fell unconscious. It was uncomfortable with it being in my throat wiggling its way to my mouth. It is a chestbuster by nature but I am a strange exception."

I sat down into the chair.

"I...I...I have been developing some feelings for Loki," I admit. "I had a dream while I was out talking to a different Loki. The one you saw on television during the attack on New York. And then I woke up."

"In the dream; where were you and this different Loki?" The Psychiatrist asks, leaning forward in intrigue.

"In a hospital," I said. "Possessing the body of a chick named Natasha."

"Interesting," The Psychiatrist said.

"Quite unusually, really," I said. "He mentioned something about a promise. I never made a promise."

"You live a crazy life, Miss Strange," The Psychiatrist said.

"It has been crazyness after crazyness," I said. "First I am a mortal and then I am not. I am really a immortal person capable of turning into rock and summoning it." I roll down my right sleeve then turn my arm into rock showing it to The Psychiatrist. "To top it off I am technically an alien to the planet I grew up on for most of my life."

I lower my arm turning it back into normal then roll down my sleeves.

"How do you feel about it now?" The Psychiatrist asks.

"Well, weird," I said, with a slight shrug. "But a little 'meh' and a little 'secrety' at some points."

"This does feel strange you are falling for a teenager," The Psychiatrist said.

"I know right," I said.

"And you are enjoying every minute of this," The Psychiatrist said. "Aren't you?"

I smile looking up from the floor with my hands together.

"Who wouldn't?" I ask.

The Psychiatrist has a short laugh.

"Good point," The Psychiatrist said, softly.

I nod, with a short sigh.

"Some detectives have...recently come around and been questioning me about that night," I said. "The night in question when Fred died. I cannot account for it as I do not know what the report for the fake day in Utah says what happened."

"That sounds frustrating," The Psychiatrist said.

"It is," I said.