A trip to the doctor's

[motherofresistance]

Who: Closed log for Leia, Gray!Ben, and NPC Doctor Harter Kalonia
What: Ben has some medical problems that need to be addressed. Fortunately, the doctor is in.
When: The day after this thread
Warnings: Discussion of mental illness, self harm, and eating disorders. Angst and feelings. Possible discussion of canon-typical violence.

The night had passed, as it inevitably did. And when the day had come, there had been plans to make. Once she and Ben had woken up properly, she'd contacted Doctor Kalonia. Normally, she would have just walked in, but this was a more... delicate matter than a typical illness or injury, and she needed to request a private consultation rather than just a standard visit to the medical bay. Fortunately, being the leader of the Resistance gave her significant pull, and the request was granted for later that afternoon. Short of an emergency, they'd have the bay all to themselves. 

Now, here they were, about to step inside. Leia had come with Ben, partly for moral support and partly because she wasn't certain how the meeting would play out without her presence. It had been hard enough for Ben to tell her about his symptoms and what he'd been doing as a result; it would be that much harder to explain the situation to a professional and submit it and himself for scrutiny, even compassionate scrutiny. If necessary or desired, Leia could take some of the burden of explanation off of Ben's shoulders.

"Ready for this?" Leia asked Ben as they approached the medical bay doors. Beyond them was their best hope of a resolution to Ben's difficulties and the potential for real healing. But still, she knew that stepping through them probably wouldn't be easy for him.

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Ben had taken care to make it look like he was getting decent sleep, having combed the tangles out of his thick hair and changed into a different outfit that didn't look slept in before they arrived. He wanted to project an air of authority, but he knew he wasn't, right now. He was doing well to manage an air of calm that probably still didn't fool his mother for a second. This whole thing was a bag of mixed emotions. He wanted to get this over with, he didn't want to do this. He wanted to get better. He feared what that might entail.

He hadn't had to ask his mother to come with him, she volunteered it. There was a lot of weight to that, a kind of support that went beyond this, the gesture meaning more than just 'I'm here for you now'. She would be here for him permanently, and he knew that now. That was what enabled him to face this shameful experience as well as he was. He had even worn less layers than usual - all he had to do was remove his coat to show what he looked like in a shirt that actually fit properly.

"No," he said softly, inhaling and exhaling a controlled breath. "But I know if I wait until I feel I am, I'll find excuses not to ever do this." He felt like he was deploying to some distant, dangerous world to train towards some distant goal. Then he looked at his mother, and squared his shoulders. "Let's do this."