[oopfsb / darkest timeline] Millman, Session #1

[stilljustandrew]

"So can you bring me up to speed?" is the first thing Dr. Millman asks him, once they're settled in one of the infirmary's consultation rooms. "Nita didn't give me too much of the context."

Previously on Milliways, he thinks (with what he really wishes were more genuine humor), and takes a deep breath. And plunges in.

The first time he met Matt, trying to read auguries in the fragments of a broken teacup. How quickly he'd warmed to him, talking shop about different magic systems; how he'd offered to show Matt the Council Library sometime.

"And that's not something I should have even considered with a guy I just met, you know?" he adds in an aside. "I mean there's sensitive stuff in there, information that could be seriously dangerous in the wrong hands ... I don't think he took anything but the point is I didn't know, I -- god," he groans, "that was so irresponsible."

Comments

[comm_npc_2]

"And were you?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I thought I was. I ... " Andrew rubs his eyes. "He thought I was there to hurt him. Because that's what he did to me. And I said no, I wasn't, and ... I said he didn't even know what he did to me. And he said maybe you're right, and I said ... something like, well, you could maybe ask."

He's looking down at his clasped hands again, and his voice is low and bruised. "And that's when he said I should leave. That he was trying to work out stuff in his own life, and ... he didn't have time for me."

[comm_npc_2]

A sympathetic grimace. "And how'd that make you feel?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Pretty crappy."

Unsteady and bitter; his mouth trembles as he says it.

"Like ... actual crap. Scraped off somebody's shoe."

[comm_npc_2]

"Ouch," Millman murmurs.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew blinks hard. "So I was like, just answer me one question and I'll go. And he says, what, and I asked him ... are you sorry. At all."

His chest hurts as though something's swelling inside it; it's like he's back there again, willing Matt to turn and look at him. To say anything.

(To say yes.)

Small and choked: "And he just --" Wetness spills down his cheek as he shuts his eyes, covers his face with one hand. "He couldn't even say no. He just said, go away, Andrew."

[comm_npc_2]

Millman's quiet again.

After a moment, he silently reaches for the box of tissues on the counter, and nudges it to within Andrew's reach.

[stilljustandrew]

He struggles to get back something approaching composure; as he tries to shove the pain back down, to smother it under dull bitterness. "Like I haven't heard that about a million times before," he manages, and the sound of his own cracking voice is enough to make his throat squeeze shut again.



There's not much more to tell, after that: how he left in ignominy and retreated to his room, and stayed there. How Baby called him with a question about Matt's release, and only then he remembered giving the order in the first place; how he came down to apologize to X, and gave further orders to stop himself from doing something like that again. He skims uneasily over the conversation with Curtis, for reasons that aren't entirely clear to him, and winds up with Nita's visit and the realization that he needed help.

"I'm not okay," he finishes, low-voiced, slumped in his chair with elbows resting on his knees. "I'm a mess. And I don't know how to put myself back together and I can't -- I can't just stay like this."

[comm_npc_2]

"Well." The older man's voice is gentle. "You've been through some trauma, and you haven't had much time to process it all yet. I'm hoping I can help you work through it. First, though, I'm gonna ask you a couple of the most hackneyed therapist questions ever, so --" A slightly wry smile. "Sorry in advance."

[stilljustandrew]

That actually gets a small choked laugh, even as he wipes his eyes. "Hit me."

[comm_npc_2]

"First one: now that we've talked a little, what do you think you want to get out of continuing therapy?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I want to get my head straight again," he says, and then looks away with a wince. "I, I mean ... you know what I mean. Like you said. I want to work through this. And I want to stop being this ... this pathetic."

[comm_npc_2]

"Pathetic?" Mildly.

[stilljustandrew]

"Come off it," he mutters miserably. "I am. I'm such an easy mark it's not even funny. Even he could see that much, that's probably why --"

The tears are threatening again; he drags an angry sleeve across his face and continues unsteadily. "I mean, I can't even hate him. I miss him. He literally didn't care if I died from what he did to me and now I miss him, how sick is that?"

[comm_npc_2]

"I wouldn't call it sick at all," Millman says steadily. "But do you think you'd feel better about it if you could hate him?"

He sounds more interested than disapproving.

[stilljustandrew]

"I think I'd feel better about me," he mumbles, and after a moment adds "... no I wouldn't."

[comm_npc_2]

"I didn't figure." Gently. "But it bothers you that you don't? And that you miss him?"

[stilljustandrew]

He nods silently, his face burning.

[comm_npc_2]

"Okay, I'm gonna ask you to think about this between now and our next session: how would you rather feel about him now, if you could choose? And why?"

[stilljustandrew]

Another nod.

What he doesn't say, as they segue into making plans for the next session -- the hour's already up and past -- is that he doesn't think he'll need to think about it for long.

He pretty much already knows.