I’d like to fit in with my team, so I offered to help with dinner instead of hiding out in my nest like I wanted to.
That hasn’t done any good for me or the toes of my teammates (I keep accidentally stepping on them).
Henri takes the pasta from me when it’s ready to drain, and I turn off the stove. This isn’t the time to protest that I can do it myself with boiling water at play. I don’t want to cause any burns.
Charm talks me into getting our silverware, and I gratefully shift to table setting.
When it’s time to eat, I collapse in my seat. I didn’t realize how wobbly my legs were.
I shakily grab a slice of garlic bread and pass the basket along. The others do the same until everyone has been served.
I pour myself a little cinnamon-spiced eggnog, though I’m not sure it pairs well with spaghetti. But it’s seasonal, and Henri is the one who put the eggnog on the table, so I’m not going to argue with his culinary decisions.
I twirl some pasta on my fork, eating slowly. I’m not paying attention to their conversation, it’s all I can do to get some food down. I don’t feel hungry, but I know I should eat.
It’s only when it’s been quiet for a while that I realize they’ve gone silent.
I look up from my meatball to find most of them watching me. Magnus isn’t staring, but his head is tilted my way.
Charm is smiling gently, and Henri’s brow is furrowed.
“It’s normal to feel worn out, physically and emotionally, after a call like that,” Orion says to me.
“I suppose so,” I say, although I’m not sure I agree.
It was a quick rescue with a happy ending. I don’t see why that would be so taxing. Our classes at the academy involved much longer days.
“It’s different from training,” Charm says like he read my thoughts.
I thought they were trying to make me feel better about being so weak, but he seems sincere.
“At the academy, you work hard, but at the end of the day, you know the stakes aren’t high,” Charm continues. “No one is really injured, and the worst that can happen is you get a bad grade. The potential consequences of an actual emergency take a toll, even if it’s a simple rescue.”
I nod, struggling to accept that it’s okay to not be okay.
“It’s normal to be affected by the job. It means you care. You did great today, and this heavy feeling will pass with time and rest. You’ll get used to handling emergency calls, and it won’t always be this hard. The best thing you can do now is to take care of yourself,” Orion says. “I advise eating more even if you don’t feel hungry and then going to bed early. HR should have given you a therapist’s contact information. I’ve found talking with them to be helpful. My door is always open, and the others are happy to help too. We understand what you’re going through.”
The others agree with him or give me encouraging smiles.
Orion commended me earlier for how I handled things. When we put together our official report back at the station, he said I made good decisions and took initiative, thinking for myself. He didn’t reprimand me at all like I expected him to.
Usually I love being praised, but it didn’t feel real listening to his compliments. Like I’m disconnected from what happened today.
Shouldn’t I feel a little pleased that I was able to do the job? That they think I did a good job?
My mouth trembles, and I bite my lip to stop it, but it’s too late. I sense the shift, how they tense and their focus sharpens on me.
I don’t think I can brush them off now.
I keep my head down as I haltingly admit, “I’m not sure…I’m right for this job.”
I still can’t bear to say the reason why. Why it’s usually betas and alphas in this line of work. Admit that all the judgmental looks and critical comments might have been right.
“It’s only your first day, and you did great. Give it some time,” Henri says.
He reaches out like he’s going to comfort me but hesitates and puts his hand down.
Just another sign that I’m making things harder than they should be. They have to behave differently around me.
