Chapter Text
“So you have a twin brother?”
Lydia Gardner, The Ministry’s only therapist and long-time therapist of Copia Emeritus asked a question she had waited months to ask, hopeful that he would have raised it first. She knew now that it was unlikely that he ever would but something had forced her hand, something she had to discuss with him.
Frater Imperator looked up with a deep sigh of annoyance. He wondered how long it would take for this to come up. He certainly hadn’t mentioned it and neither was he intending to. Not that it wasn’t common knowledge of course; his fraternal twin had just finished his highly successful tour of Europe, the US and Mexico with a promise of more dates to follow. The congregation had loved him and he, Copia, had felt forgotten, pushed aside. He had fostered a deeply held fear that the Clergy would kill him off after his last show as they had with his uncles - useless, redundant, worthless - but now, part of him wondered if it would have been a mercy. Instead, here he was, supposedly promoted on the death of his mother and he was miserable. As Papa and the singer of the Ghost Project he felt that he had found his calling, his raison d’être but it had been snatched away after only five years - such a short time. The worst of it was that the most popular song of his reign had been his father’s recording Mary on a Cross and the final release of his reign was The Future is a Foreign Land, also his father’s and both written either to or about his mother. Even within his own Papacy he felt invisible. Now, the twin he knew nothing about had taken over, using all his moves, dressing in a similar way, taking his spotlight. He had taken everything from him and he hadn’t even met him. It was too unfair. And now, here with his therapist, she had mentioned him - figuratively bringing him into his only safe space. It was too much.
“I don’t remember mentioning him to you,” he replied gruffly, not looking up.
“Do you expect me to ignore something this obviously significant until you mention it yourself?”
Copia said nothing but she could see from the way he was tapping the side of his leg and occasionally gripping it that he was agitated.
“Copia?”
“I’m Frater now, the Head of the Clergy, but apparently that means nothing.”
He threw his hands up in the air in a dramatic shrug before allowing them to fall back to their earlier position, still refusing to make eye-contact.
“We talked about this a long time ago, you agreed no titles in here. Just two people talking.”
“Yes well, maybe I was wrong?” Copia shrugged again, this time only a brief movement of his shoulders.
“Or maybe you’re trying to throw up a wall to avoid the question?”
“Who is he, anyway? This Papa V Perpetulant?” Copia gave an unkind laugh, pleased with his own joke.
“He’s your twin brother, born at the same time as you.” She replied, ignoring the name calling.
“No,” Copia pointed a leather-gloved finger and finally making eye-contact, “I’m ten minutes older.”
“So you’re his big brother, then?”
“No, I’m not,” he offered a sulky pout. “I managed over fifty years without a brother. I don’t need one now.”
“Regardless of need, you do have one and I’m surprised you waited for me to mention it.”
“Doesn’t that give you the very clear impression that I don’t want to talk about it?” He asked looking up again.
“I see that,” she tipped her head. “But I think we have to.”
“Why?” Copia shook his head dismissive of the idea.
“Well, quite a few reasons actually. One, its a significant development in your life to suddenly find out you have a twin brother you never knew about. Two, it obviously upsets you. Three, he’s taken over as Papa and I know that upsets you.”
“Those two are the same!” Copia snapped. “I don’t care who he is, I only care that I’m not Papa any more.”
“You’re saying that you wouldn’t care about finding out you have a brother if he wasn’t Papa?”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
Copia was now almost curling in on himself now, refusing again to make eye-contact and his hand tapping increased in speed.
“Well, there is a fourth reason we should talk about him.”
She waited, the silence between them seemed to make the air feel electric and after less than a minute Copia looked up, curious about what the fourth reason was.
“What?”
“As you know, the Ministry only has one therapist and I’ve been asked if…”
“You are joking! Are you serious right now?”
“I’m very serious,” she admitted. “I have been asked to see him and normally I wouldn’t tell another client who I was seeing but…”
“So you’ve agreed already?” Copia snapped, aghast at the response.
“He asked me to let you know.”
“Oh, so you’ve discussed me with him have you? So much for confidentiality! What did you say about me? That I’m grumpy and hate him for no reason?” Copia seemed almost on the verge of a tantrum, his rage sounding childlike to her.
“As far as I know, he doesn’t even know you’re my client.” She replied in a calm, even tone.
“Then why did he want you to tell me?” Copia scowled. “How would he even know you’d see me?”
“He didn’t. He told me that he didn’t want to keep it a secret from you but couldn’t tell you himself.”
“Why? Why can’t he tell me?”
“I don’t know. There are a number of reasons why someone may not be able to say the words themselves. I’m not going to speculate on that, but he did want you to know.”
“And you’ve agreed?”
“I’m the only therapist at the Ministry.”
“Then we need another one!”
“What are you afraid of? Do you think I’ll take his side?”
“What side? We don’t even know each other!”
“Then there’s nothing to fear?”
“Oh, see him, then! You might as well, he’s taken everything else from me! Why not you too?”
Copia pushed himself out of the seat and headed towards the door in a surprisingly quick motion. Matching his speed, Lydia leapt up and placed a gentle hand on his arm before he could open the door.
“Please, Copia, please sit down. He’s not taking me from you. I’m here for you. If you want to get another therapist in to take over with him, then of course that would be fine. Can we talk about this?”
Copia turned a saddened expression towards her, the response was unexpected and it confused him that someone would choose him over someone else. It made him suspicious and he found it hard to believe.
“Why?”
“Why talk?” She asked, somewhat puzzled by the question.
“Why are you here for me over him?”
“Oh, Copia,” she shook her head lightly. “Don’t you know yet that I care about you? That I want to help?”
A myriad of conflicting thoughts and questions ran through his mind, each one more confusing than the last. All words that he tried to say were unable to force their way past the lump in his throat. All he was able to do in that moment was to shrug and nod his tacit agreement, before returning to his seat.
“Thank you,” Lydia smiled as he took his seat once more and she did the same.
The pair sat in silence for a few moments while the heightened energy in the small room settled. Copia focused his eyes on the box of tissues that sat on the table next to the glass of water offered each session but usually ignored. He hated that box of tissues; he felt sometimes as if it were laughing at him. Goading him to get upset, to risk humiliation. He had cried only twice in the room. Once over the death of his favourite uncle and only boyhood friend, Terzo and once over the death of his mother.
Lydia knew he had suffered a great deal of trauma in his life, not just from bereavement but also from abandonment, lack of both affection and positive attention, constant criticism and feeling the never ending need to prove himself. Not only had he proved himself over and over again but his only reward had been to lose the things he loved most, with no understanding of why. Even most of his ghouls had chosen to go with Perpetua on tour and, whilst he hadn’t objected, it had broken his heart. Only Swiss and Cumulus had opted to remain with him leaving Perpetua to summon a new ghoul and ghoulette. Out of his difficulties with letting go, he hadn’t even allowed his former ghouls to swear allegiance to Perpetua but despite this they were still obeying his orders and supporting him.
Added to this, Perpetua was being praised, not only by the music press but also by senior Clergy members, in ways Copia had never been, despite his own triumphs. Everything seemed so unfair to him and she had to admit she understood why. This wasn’t a man angry at the world for no reason. He had many reasons and it often appeared to her that she was the only person ever to acknowledge that.
“I thought you wanted to talk?” Copia finally spoke.
“When you’re ready,” she replied with a soft calming voice.
“I’m not sure what about,” Copia admitted miserably.
“Well, I wonder how you feel about what I just said?”
“Well, it’s your job isn't it? It’s what you’re paid for.” Copia sighed with a slight shake of his head.
“Yes, it is, but don’t you think I’d care anyway?” Lydia asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.
“Why would you?” Copia shook his head again.
“You’ve suffered a lot of disappointment so your natural response is to expect it. It must be very confusing for you when you don’t get it?”
Copia looked up, unsure how to process the words. Not only did he expect disappointment but when faced with a situation where he seemed to get what he wanted, it felt as if it was a mere taunt, that it would be snatched away at any moment. She seemed to understand this somehow and her empathy made him want to risk a difficult statement.
“I’m waiting for you to change your mind.” He replied simply, holding his breath waiting for the laughter or the snide comment that would follow.
“That must be exhausting for you, a constant feeling that something good will be taken away.”
Copia nodded, a lump in his throat building and preventing any words that wanted to force their way through. Clenching his jaw, he tried to force his emotions back down, to hide them, to avoid the ridicule he knew would follow.
“Copia,” she ventured, “you seem to be holding back. How do you feel?”
It was too much. The unexpected question, posed with such gentleness cut through his defences like a sword through a blade of grass.
“I don’t want to feel,” he choked out. “I can’t bear it.”
“What can’t you bear?” She asked, knowing she was close to a breakthrough if he allowed it.
“You… what you’ll say if I cry. Letting you down. Being weak.”
The fragmented sentences emerged broken and choked off as if each word were painful to form. Copia’s head remained down, his eyes firmly focused on that hated box of tissues. To distract himself, his hand darted forward and he picked up the glass of water, lifting it to his lips with a distinct tremble in the motion. Gulping down a few sips, finding it equally as difficult to swallow as it had been to speak the few words he had managed. All the while the few seconds of silence were killing him as he waited - waited for the rebuke, the criticism, the mocking. It didn’t come.
“Nothing you could do could let me down, Copia. I care for you as you are, however you are and I will never intentionally hurt you.”
Copia looked up, only now realising that his eyes were misted over. Pushing the forming tears from his eyes he stared at Lydia. She looked calm, sincere and there was no hint of laughter in her expression. He continued to stare for a few more moments, trying to believe the words while simultaneously waiting for a retraction that didn’t come.
“I don’t understand,” he finally replied, allowing the tears to fall from his eyes without trying to hide them.
“You have suffered criticism and rejection for so long that you’ve come to expect it. I’ve listened to everything you’ve told me about what you’ve dealt with all these years and noted that it’s all come first from a small group of people, both your biological and adoptive parents but also from anyone who felt that they needed to behave like them to get on their good side. You have never been allowed to establish boundaries of your own, so others make them for you and it hurts you because it feels like they’re never in your interests.”
“Boundaries?” Copia frowned deeply as if he weren’t even familiar with the term.
“Making your own decisions, setting your own limits,” she replied, noting the confusion in his eyes.
“No, I don’t think I ever have,” he sighed again, his words sounding forlorn as if he had only just noticed. “It… I never felt as if I could… or should?”
“We’re coming to the end of our session for today soon, but I want you to consider two things during the week.”
“Homework?” Copia raised an eyebrow.
“Just some things to think about, if you get time.”
“What are they?” Copia asked, concerned about the potential weight of the task.
“I want you to notice how many times you say or think the word should.”
“Should?” Copia frowned in confusion. “Why?”
“Should can be quite a dangerous word, forcing us to do things we don’t want to, some things that aren’t in our best interests. Things that we do because we should because someone else has decided, even if we don’t want to.”
“Oh,” Copia exhaled deeply. “That’s going to be a big count. What do you want me to do about it? Stop?”
“For the moment just notice it and we’ll talk about it again.”
“Okay, what’s the other thing?”
“The other thing is to consider a situation that happened that you went along with and imagine what it would be like to say no.”
“Oh, no, no, no! I can’t do that.”
Lydia smiled at the irony.
“Do you realise that you just did?” She smiled kindly.
Copia blanked for a moment as he processed the unexpected words.
“Well, it’s… it’s different.”
“What’s different in here?”
“You’re not going to yell at me,” he replied curling in on himself with shame.
“No, I’m not and I’m really glad you know that.”
“I can’t say no to her, I can’t.”
“And I’m not asking you to,” she reassured him. “All I’m asking is that afterwards you imagine what it would be like to say no.”
“Well, I can tell you, she’d yell at me.”
“Have you ever said no?”
“I’ve tried… sort of. Not directly.”
“Just imagine what it would be like to say no and have it accepted.”
Copia laughed at the idea as if it were ridiculous.
“It’s not so much of an issue now she’s gone, anyway.”
“But it is with Mr Psaltarian and Marika, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but… I’ll try to imagine. I’ll try.”
“Remember, I’m not asking you to do any of this, just to imagine what it might be like.”
Copia nodded.
“I’ll try.” He shrugged, accepting the seeming impossible task. “I will.”
“Thank you. Will you be available for our next session?”
“Yes, yes, that’s fine, thank you.”
Copia scratched his head as he thought about the next few days and how many times he might say or think the word should. He was bound to lose count. As Lydia rose to see him out, Copia stood with her and headed for the door.
“I’ll see you next time.”
“I look forward to it.” She replied with a smile.
Copia stepped into the corridor to head back to his new lavish chambers in the Executive Suite. He had noted that she said that at the end of every session and he had dismissed it as mere words, but today he found himself considering the possibility that she might actually mean it. It was an unexpected but pleasant feeling.
*
Therapists Notes
Copia 14th November
The session began as usual talking about work and his feelings of loss and worthlessness.
I broached the subject of his brother this week and he was deeply upset thinking I was abandoning him in favour of his brother. The old pattern emerging automatically.
We managed to talk it through and discussed how he was afraid of letting me down - the assumption being that I would discard him too if that happened. I think he heard what I said but it will need more than that to change his automatic responses.
I’ve asked him to notice the word should and ask him to imagine saying no (this was especially hard for him, let’s see if he can).
I have a session with his brother coming up so I’ll need to be careful with how I handle the two. I feel very uncomfortable seeing both, but at the moment at least there is only me here. Technically they’re strangers but I see V on stage and how he tries to emulate Copia and I do wonder.