Disclaimer: I do not any of the characters from the Mass Effect franchise… if I did I would've met Seth Green by now...curse you time travel!
Therapuetic Torture
Chapter 1: Rude Awakenings
The feminine voice, softly blared over the speakers, "Mr. Moreau…"
Joker stirred slightly. He had dozed off again, except it wasn't EDI's voice that was calling him. In fact, he wasn't even onboard the Normandy, he was in some plain building to Joker's annoyance, and to add to that, the owner of the voice wasn't even a synthetic. She was a lonely old woman, who called herself a therapist, that "specialized" in "soothing souls" of those who are dealing with post-traumatic stress.
"Mr. Moreau!"
Joker shot up, yelling, "Yes, yes! What?"
She screeched. "Pay ATTENTION!"
"I am!" he countered, irritably. He was getting extremely irritated with this old bat's bitching.
"Good. Look at the scenic view. Adjacent to your current position."
Joker turned, crossing his arms, he stared across the courtyard, "Okay. Now what?"
"What do you see?"
"Buildings…?"
"Good, now look closely, what do those buildings remind you of?"
How was this supposed to help him? Buildings. Oh wow.
"Buildings…oh I get it!"
"Do you really?" she asked sincerely.
Joker rolled his eyes, his voice dripped with sarcasm, "Yeah. They are buildings! Aren't they gorgeous? Look at how boring they are! The ninety degree angles, wow, that is so freaking unique."
"Mr. Moreau, enough with your sarcastic comments. The more you remark, the longer you have to take therapy. I am only here to help you deal with traumatic stress. You will continue these courses, until you begin to show improvement."
"I don't need therapy! I need my ship! I need to get back into space!"
"Those options are currently unavailable. Now focus Mr. Moreau."
"I don't get this. Why am I looking at buildings?"
"This is part of my therapeutic treatment."
Joker muttered, "Therapeutic my crippled ass…coming from a therapist wannabe that means nothing to me."
Her voice became tense, "I think we need to double your treatment hours, from the original twenty-one hours a week, to forty-two."
Joker face palmed, "Oh my god…get me out of this hell hole."
"You would not be in this predicament, if you would comply with your much needed therapy."
Joker sighed, it was absolutely hopeless. "That's it. I am done with this! I don't need therapy, and you aren't a therapist so didn't even try to sell me that lie. It is all complete BULLSHIT!"
He lurched from his seat and quickly escaped from his torture, or in other words therapy. He shuffled, as fast as his crippled body would allow, towards the bar. He desperately needed a drink, and a conference with his war buddy Alenko.
A/N: Just a heads up, this is going to be an angsty story about Joker...a few pairings yada yada yada. First angst fic, I'm surprised at how I was able to write it, considering I've never experienced what happens to him. So I've written like seven chapters already. If you like where it's going leave a review or whatever you do...