"Think of your head as an unsafe neighborhood; don't go there alone."

― Augusten Burroughs, Dry

The black suited woman sitting across from Klaus rested her chin in her hand, which rested atop her crossed knees, and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at him. "Tell me... about your siblings."

Klaus chuckled and folded his hands together. "They're backstabbing imbeciles that think they need to control me."

"And do they?"

Klaus smirked and looked towards the window, admiring the old willow tree right outside the building. "Not even in their dreams."

His blonde therapist nodded. She didn't keep notes. She didn't type information into her computer. She just watched him as she questioned. "So, you don't get along?"

Klaus narrowed his eyes in thought. "We're not much of a touchy-feely family."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's what I answered."

A small smile stretched her lips, and Klaus couldn't help but feel proud. Already, she knew who was in charge. He leaned his head back, waiting for her response. "Do your siblings get along with each other?"

That wasn't what he was expecting. Now she was leaning towards the idea that he was the problem in the family relationships. That just wouldn't do. "No," he stated shortly.

"But they get along better than they do with you," she confirmed.

"I hardly see how that has to do with anything."

The therapist clapped her hands together and leaned back. "Can I be honest with you?"

"We both know you won't be," he mumbled to himself.

His retort didn't do anything to her confidence. "I'm not an average therapist. I don't ask the typical questions. And, honestly, I don't think I want to give you the textbook answers."

Klaus let his annoyance flash in his eyes. Maybe she was telling the truth. "Then what am I even here for?"

"You want answers as to why no one likes you. And solutions to respect." Klaus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What makes you so sure I'm not respected?"

The woman leaned forward as well, a hint of a joke on her lips. "Because when a good-looking man who's dressed well and speaks with a strong accent walks into a room, I naturally assume he's someone of royal importance. But after speaking to you for no more than five minutes, you've shattered that impression and replaced it with cockiness." She smiled at her words and sat up straight. "Bravo."

Klaus breathed in deeply. "Aren't you here to boost my confidence?"

She stretched her arms out in front of her casually. "Your confidence is already far too high. Plus," she pointed at him, "I'm not your average therapist."

"Do you do this with all your clients?"

"Do what?"

"So obviously not care."

"Oh, I care. I actually really want to help you with your social problems. I just don't think acting like you're Mr. Helpless is going to get us very far."

Another deep breath. "And how do you propose we go about this, then?"

She smirked to herself, truly enjoying this. "Shoving you out of your comfort zone. Making you understand why people don't agree with what you do. And convincing you that you can be powerful without being a dickhead."

Despite her best efforts, Klaus could only take her words as a joke. And why not play along when you're amused? He reached his hand out, smiling at her. "And I can't wait to see you accomplish your goal."