Jupiter [Marvel Phase I]

seventeen.

Throughout the rest of class, Jenn drafted excuses. Oh, I'm feeling sick...there's this big assignment due...actually, I have a date tonight...' But these were all things Harry would see through in an instant. And she couldn't let him grow suspicious, particularly not after Dev's news.

In the end, an excuse was only a temporary fix. Harry would find some way to get her to Dr. Ingram's eventually, and then what? She'd be right back at square one.

It was Dev, actually, who devised the best solution. A note Jenn scribbled in the last five minutes of class. Hopefully her own handwriting would be enough to convince her of something even her best friend couldn't.

When class wrapped, everyone rushed from the lecture hall. Dev threw one last look Jenn's way before disappearing too. All Jenn could do was nod back, not trusting her mouth to lie and tell him she was alright. Her nod wasn't all that convincing either.

"Jenn?" Harry called, bringing her attention back to the front of the class. She glanced away from him and towards her still-unpacked books. "Are you doing alright up there?"

Willing a smile back on her face, Jenn looked up. Harry was at the door, trench coat on and ready to go. Don't let him know, her mind warned. "Yeah, just lost my head for a moment." Somehow, it was easier lying to Harry.

"Great!" Harry smiled back. "We can head over to Dr. Ingram's whenever you're ready."

xxx

Another last-minute visit from Harold and Jennifer. Of course, when were their appointments anything other than furiously penciled in? Jennifer's memory would begin to resurface while she was unconscious and Harold would call to warn him they were dropping by later that day. Terribly inconvenient for him, what with having to rearrange all his other appointments at the drop of a hat. However, they were a rare enough occurrence - not to mention what might happen if the appointment didn't go through.

Doctor Oscar Ingram sighed as he looked over Jennifer's case file. Somewhere just outside his office, she and Harold were waiting. Part of him was tempted to call Jennifer in right now, with all her documents on the table, and let her look over the pieces of her missing life. Harold would be wonderfully cross with him then. Oscar allowed himself a single, bitter chuckle at the image.

Nevertheless, he cleared the table and moved the thick manila envelope over to his desk. Much as he disagreed with Harold's decisions, he understood the reasoning behind them. His friend wasn't the one calling the shots.

Still, a tiny corner of his mind remained insubordinate. His hand hovered over the file. What was the worst that could happen if Jenn knew everything? No, that wasn't the question he needed to ask. Didn't Jennifer deserve to know? The ten-year anniversary was approaching. In a few short months, she would be twenty-five. She was a grown woman who should be allowed the choice.

But this wasn't his choice either.

Oscar gritted his teeth as he turned on the out-patient light. Seconds later, the door opened. By the time he turned around, his neutral, patient-seeing expression was firmly reaffixed.

By contrast, the look on Jennifer's face was...almost unfamiliar. There was always some amount of hesitation in her eyes during her visits. An apprehension that stemmed, presumably, from all the unpleasant memories linked to this room. Not that Oscar could blame her. But there was a difference this time. One Oscar could not quite pinpoint.

"Good afternoon, Jennifer," he greeted, trying subtly as he could to assess his patient's body language.

"Afternoon," Jennifer replied slowly.