"I'm going to write you up for some Zoloft. "

Arthur Kirkland. 34 years old. 5'11 with emerald green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. It was Friday mid-morning. He clicked his pen and wrote on a form so that his patient would be able to get their depression medication. Lucy Caldwell. A 47 year old woman with fried brown hair that was turning gray. She was grungy, like she hadn't showered in a little over a week. A new patient of Arthur. She had not been able to have kids and the city had never seen her and her husband fit to adopt. Which might have been for the best. Danny, her husband, and Lucy were in the middle of getting a divorce. This was put to a stop when Danny had died in a car accident from driving under the influence.

Sending Lucy in a spiral of depression. She had tried multiple suicides in her life and one was fairly recently. Which was why she was recommended to Arthur by a doctor at the hospital. Kirkland was a respected and well known psychologist. He had grown up and studied in England for psychology almost right after high school. He had straight A's his whole life going through school. Not that it would have mattered considering how rich his family was. He could just have easily paid his way into college or even not have gone to college and just live off his parents money. Which is what most could have done—should have done. But this was Arthur's dream. It was hard work and even depressing at times, no matter, he still loved to do it. He handed Lucy the slip of yellow paper with his signature on it, placed his hand on her shoulder and led her to the door.

"Take that note to Dr. Hopson and he'll explain to you the dosage to take and when to take it and I will see you 2 weeks from now too see how you are doing with the drug. Just to make sure it's working. We don't want any rashes."

Arthur smiled. It was a very warm and caring smile. Lucy simply shook her head yes, opened the door and left. Arthur released a deep sigh as he used his left hand to rub the back of his neck. It was now his break time. Four patients today and three had near to zero progress. He walked unsteadily to his desk, sat and laid back in his brown leather chair. It was silent. Which was a nice break from the crying that was happening recently. The silence was broken when his message receiver started ringing. Startled, he quickly leaned back up and and clicked the red button on the receiver.

"Yes Victoria? What is it? "

"Alfred Jones is here. He says he got your lunch for you. Would you like me to send him up?"

Ah yes, Alfred Foster Jones. Arthur's ex-boyfriend. They had dated when Arthur had first moved into his apartment. They had met in the elevator and just hit it off. Though their relationship ended a little violent, Alfred wanted to keep being 'friends.' Arthur, still dis trot from the break up and not wanting to lose Alfred, had agreed to it. (and this is coming from a psychologist..how embarrassing) And so four months later Arthur still missed Alfred. Which was completely normal. I mean, They had dated for a little over three years. (what a waste of time that was) and being with Alfred all the time had become a normal part of his life. Now he only sees him early mornings on the elevator or when Alfred decides to surprise Arthur with lunch from McDonald's. He brought him lunch two or three times a week, he just never said what days he was going to bring it. Well, except for Tuesdays. He always brought lunch to him on Tuesdays. With good reason, they did meet on a Tuesday.

Arthur cleared his throat and pressed the red button to reply. "Yes, please send him right up."

The Englishman waited about another minute before the door burst open with a blonde hair and blue eyed, 26 year old American holding a couple bags of fast food with a huge smile on his face.

"Hello Artie! Did you miss me?" Alfred winked at Arthur as he strutted over to his desk and placed the food on it. This made Arthur blush. He was so sexy. Too sexy. It was unfair. When they were dating, Alfred would have already started striping (or trying to strip) Arthur. Now he was just teased. Subtle flirtatious moves and talking about the "adventures" he went on with people he met at clubs partying. But, one thing Arthur truly did miss, was the "Your hero is here!" It made his heart ache.

"How have you been Arthur?"

"...Fine, thank you. And you?"

"Amazing! A couple days ago I had won my case with the teenage girl who was assaulted by that creepy 54 year old man and last night I met this beautiful Spanish woman at a club. We had went on quite the 'adventure' in the bathroom."

And there it was. Now get ready Arthur because for the next ten minutes you and only you are going to have to sit through how wonderful this girl was at giving blow jobs. Just eat your burger and drown him out. Both of them had finished all their food by the time Alfred had finished talking about the Spanish girl. How exhausting-no wait! How depressing. Hearing about your ex screwing some random girl and all you can do is just sit, grit your teeth and smile. Oh how he wished he could talk about the girls and guys he got with last night, but unfortunately, there was no guy or girl last night. The last time he had had any sex, was with Alfred a month before they broke up. Five months. That made Arthur feel even more like a total moron.

"I'm thinking about taking another language class." Alfred had interrupted his train of thought.

"Another, why?

"I don't know...It...it would just be something nice to do. Something different." Alfred made a heavy sigh and looked out the window. "Yeah, something different would be nice. I could take Japanese or German. I could also just take French. It should be easy considering I already know Spanish and Italian..." Words Trailing off. This was different. Alfred's personality wasn't as joyful and full of life. It was almost like he was tired. Not physically, but mentally. Why though? He had rich parents, a nice career, could get any girl or guy he wanted. Alfred was spoiled. He got everything he wanted when he wanted it. This made Arthur angry. He had heard so many stories of people who struggled horribly in their life just today and it was only 12:15! This was one of the things Arthur had actually hated about Alfred. Yes, Arthur misses Alfred dearly, but Alfred was a spoiled brat and it pissed him off. But, when Arthur looked at Alfred again, his glare softened. He was a psychologist. Sadness was sadness and Alfred was sad. His Alfred. (Yes, he does realize that they aren't in a relationship anymore, but that doesn't stop him from loving him.)

Arthur leaned forward toward Alfred. He set his chin on his knuckles. "Alfred...what's wrong?" The American broke from his gaze, looked at the ground, then back at Arthur. He breathed but it was unsteady.

"I...I met a boy."


Matthew huddled himself up into his jacket. It felt way below freezing. His red sweatshirt coat was doing him no justice as it became more and more covered with snow as his nose kept running. He sat helpless in an alleyway. He just wanted to get to the homeless shelter, but unfortunately, he got lost in the blizzard. Just his luck. That was how his life always was. Just the other day, Matthew's glasses had broke when he was fighting some thug over his backpack. It was stolen of course. He managed to get his old polar bear teddy bear out of the bag. The man had taken his bag though and not only that but his glasses broke when they had fallen off during the tugging and pulling of his bag. He then couldn't see very well, which was probably also partially the reason he got lost going to the shelter. The Canadian really just wanted to end it all. But the question was, would it matter? He didn't have anyone. His parents were dead and the only other family member he had was all the way in France. Matthew apparently had someone in France and he had learned this when he was younger by overhearing a conversation or should he be truthful and say argument, his mother and father were having.

"it was a long time ago. I didn't think i would ever see or hear from him again since he lived in France. And I wouldn't have thought that they could be related. I'm so sorry." Alice, Matthew's mother, sat down on a dining room chair, rested her elbows on the table and placed her head in her hands. "A-at the time i was thinking. You know I love you and that I never meant to have an affair" She jumped from her position when a fist came and pounded on the table.

"You think i care that you slept with someone else? Of course it hurts that you would betray me like this, but you want to know what hurts even more? It's that my only son, might not even belong to-"

"Papa? why are you and mama fighting?" His father's words were cut short as a three year old little Matthew in a white nighty came into the room holding his precious polar bear stuffed animal by the arm. Both parents looked his direction. Alice stared at Matthew looking him over. It was true. No doubt about it. She turned away, covered her mouth with her hand and sobbed silently. Trying to not let Matthew hear. Her husband glared at her. He quickly Went over to Matthew and roughly picked Matthew up.

Matthew's father tucked him under the sheets of his toddler bed. As Matthew cuddled his polar bear to his face and looked at his father with watery, worried eyes. A soft sigh came from his father. "Me and your mother were just having a disagreement. Nothing more, nothing less. You needn't worry son." He gave a kiss to Matthew's forehead and sat on the floor next to the bed and stroked the young one's head. Soon, Matthew fell into a deep sleep. Breathing ever so softly, making it seem as if evil was a fantasy in the world. His father quickly covered his mouth to muffle his sobs as tears fell from his eyes. When he held Matthew in his arms, it was one of the most beautiful feelings in the world. Now it was tainted. There was no way Matthew was his and he knew it. They didn't look anything alike nor act the same. His accomplishment in the world had turned out to be a lie. When he would call 'papa,' the meaning would no longer be a gift, but a curse.

He could leave. Never come back and never speak of Alice and Matthew ever again. But what would that do to Matthew. He had done nothing wrong. Why should he be punished? Leaving would probably mess him up emotionally not that he deserved it anyways. He decided at that moment, he would raise Matthew as his own son. Like the conversation with his wife minutes ago had never happened. And he would make sure Matthew would never find out about his realfather. He would die before he would let that happen.


Hello, this chapter is not done yet. I am writing as fast as i can without making the story sound stupid. :P I know, i'm a poopnugget. all rights go to their respective owners