Dylan and The Therapist
Author: LudoJudo
Summary: Dylan goes to see his therapst, Ben Harding to talk about Lofty. Based on the episode 'Cradle To Grave'.
Characters: Dylan and Ben Harding.
Rating: PG. Just a bit of fluff.
Notes: This hasn't been checked, so sorry about that. I use a lot of commas and my spelling is the worst. I did my best with the Merriam-Webster app, so fingers crossed.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to BBC, Casualty, the shows various writers and probably a few other people, just not me, unfortunately:(
Feedback: If you want to, sure. But please be kind, I have a delicate system!
Dylan walked along the empty corridor towards his therapists office. Without knocking he entered, stood in front of his desk and with his hands resting on his hips declared,
"You're wrong. Lofty doesn't see the truth in me, because there is no truth to see." He paused for a moment realising he wasn't making much sense. "What I mean to say is that he's not seeing anything anyone else can't see. I'm not hiding anything."
Ben placed the pen he'd been using to sign patient forms on his desk and observed a slightly agitated Dylan.
"I didn't say you were." Ben indicated to the door and then sweep his hand to point at the seat. "Would you like to close the door and take a seat?"
Dylan looked at the door, surprised to find it still open, closed it and returned to stand in front of his therapists desk, his agitation not allowing him to sit.
"My life is an open book. I mean not the index and the foreword, I mean who reads those..."
Ben interrupted, "You."
Dylan with his hands still resting on his hips tilted his head to one side, showing Ben that he didn't appreciate his sarcasm.
"Yes, but besides me, who cares? The chapters they're all there, the beginning, the..."
"Leaving the book metaphor aside for a moment."
"Yes, it wasn't one of my best."
"Why are you so bothered by this?"
"I'm not."
Ben leaned casually back in his chair. His hands interlocked across his abdomen and his brow furrowed with confusion.
"You come bursting into my office."
"I hardly burst in, I may have forgotten to knock, for which I apologise."
"Dylan, what's bothering you?"
"The truth..."
"Yes." Ben interrupted thinking Dylan was asking a question.
"No, the truth, that's what's bothering me. Lofty seeing the truth. What if he can see the truth in people.
"But you just said he couldn't, that..."
Dylan sat down. "Well I'm talking to a therapist so clear thoughts are not necessarily my forte at the moment. What if he can see the truth, what if it's something he doesn't like."
"Has he shown so far that he doesn't like you?"
"No." Dylan paused. "In fact he hugged me. I think. I think, we maybe friends." He said the last word like he didn't know what it meant. Dylan sat down opposite Ben a look of confusion etched on his face.
"Well that's a good thing." Ben waited for a response but none came. "Isn't it?"
"I don't know. What if I bring him down. This optimistic, happy-go-lucky, positive person. What if a friendship with me takes that away."
"I think you're over estimating your power on Lofty. I think you're worrying about things that haven't happened."
Ben picked up his pen and continued to sign the patient forms.
"That's it? That's all you have to say?"
Ben dropped the heavy silver pen back onto the table top and leaned his elbows on the desk.
"Why not enjoy it, find out about Lofty, what he likes, what he dislikes. The chapters, the index and the foreword. They'll be lots of differences, in backgrounds, in interests, but that's part of the fun of a new friendship. You'll probably find you have more in common than you know. It could be the start of something beautiful."
Dylan leaned back in is chair mirroring Ben's posture, feeling a lot more relaxed than when he'd enter the room. "You're the second person to say that today." He said with the faintest of smiles.