Dan Maloone could hear the knocking on the door but he remained impassive, looking blankly out of the window. He heard his sister's light footsteps as she went to answer the door. He felt a twinge of anxiety, knowing he should go be with her just in case she needed protection, but like always he could not move, could not speak, could not shake off the anxiety until he processed that she was talking calmly, sweetly, safely.

Inside his mind, just like every other day since the shooting, the grisly crime scene at his former office tormented him. The blood, the bullet holes seeping blood - crimson blood, wet blood, blood everywhere, drowning in blood….

"Visitors for you," his sister interrupted, motioning for the guests to enter the room where he sat in his chosen solitude. He looked up to see Sue and Jack, the two kind, "real" FBI agents from the case - the case that had resolved in justice for his slain co-workers, his friends.

Why did everything have to relate back to that day?

He was prevented from returning to his silent mourning by Sue's quiet "how are you?"

"Fine."

He was not fine. Everybody knew that. He knew that. Sue knew that.

"Your sister says that you haven't gone to see anyone about the shooting yet," Sue mentioned in what was an attempt to be casual.

"Don't want to talk to any old therapist," Dan snorted, turning back to the window. He could feel his focus drifting.

It was getting so easy to tune everybody out.

So easy to slip away into his thoughts.

So easy to slip away ….

"I'm sorry to hear that - or read it." Sue's attempted joke on her lip reading skills was recognized by Dan, but he could not muster enough energy to even smile. Sue continued, undaunted. "The reason I'd say that is because - we already brought you a therapist!"

Dan frowned. Why did people keep interfering with his life? First the shooter, then the FBI, now all of his family, and at the moment Jack and Sue. When would they all fade away and leave him alone to his thoughts?

"She's not really an 'old therapist' - rather on the young side," Jack interjected.

"Yes, she hasn't had much experience yet, but we thought that she would be perfect to help you," Sue explained.

"Guys, I appreciate your concern but I don't want…." Dan stopped as Jack handed him something. He lifted the thin pink strip of sparkly fabric. It jingled with the movement. "What is this?"

"Your new therapist's business card," Jack announced, moving to the side for Sue to place a small white box in Dan's lap. There were several holes piercing through the lid. The box rocked gently and a scratching sound came from inside.

"What…?" Dan could not find the words to say but this time it was from a cautious happiness instead of the heavy depression.

"She's going to be your new therapist if you'll let her," Sue said. Dan peered up at her wordlessly, then turned to look at the box. He breathlessly lifted the lid with trembling fingers. There she was - the most beautiful French bulldog puppy in the world. A black-and-white face was tipped to the side and warm, inquisitive brown eyes were gazing up at him with profound adoration. Dan was speechless.

"I know that she isn't a lab.…"

"No, she's better!" he exclaimed, petting his new baby.

"She needed a job and she wasn't opposed to the name Persephone," Sue provided. Dan looked up, the long-absent tears flooding his eyes. He picked up the pink collar and looked at the name tag. There, engraved in a fancy scroll print, was the puppy name he had chosen as a boy - Persephone.

"You remembered."

Sue gently squeezed his shoulder. "I couldn't forget. Everyone deserves to have a dog, especially on a bad day."

Jack held out a clear plastic bag filled with dog supplies. "So, what do you say, Dan? Until you are ready to talk to a human do you think that the pup will do?"

Dan scooped the puppy out of the box and held her up to his face. Her tiny pink tongue flicked out and touched his cheek, leaving a wet spot like a melted snowflake. He set her down and snapped the collar around her neck. It fit perfectly.

"Persephone is perfect," he whispered, kissing her soft face. He looked up at Jack and Sue. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," they said in unison. Persephone barked, a tiny yap.

"I think that is our cue to leave so that she can start her session with you," Jack joked.

"We'll just see ourselves out," Sue offered. Dan did not reply. He was too wrapped up with Persephone.

Persephone, his therapist.