"When something bad happens you have three choices. You can let it define you, let it destroy you, or you can let it strengthen you."

- Anonymous

The room seemed dark with webs hung on its corners with the smell of dead roses. The atmosphere was gloomy and still as if it had been vacant for many years. Though in the middle of the room was a bed with a bundled covered girl in blankets.

"Amy, the psychologist is here to see you now." says Cream, walking over to the bed and tugged gently at the bundled being.

"Leave me alone." whispers Amy from underneath.

She's stubborn. Shadow took quickly a mental note of that.

Cream glanced over at the psychologist with a doleful expression spread across her face. It was clear this was hurting her. With a gentle nod Shadow assured the rabbit to take her leave and he was to deal with the girl.

At first the young rabbit was hesitant to leave until she looked over the grim environment which made her walk out the door with a final glance back before shutting it and leaving Shadow to deal with her dear friend.

He searched around the silent room for anything he could find useful. Mostly, he was quick to find something but this girl did not seem to hold anything of value to her but stuffed animals that sat all around.

Shadow sat on a wooden chair beside the girls bed and set his materials aside before taking out a notebook and pen and fixed his glasses.

"Amy Rosé," he began, "How are you today?"

No reply.

She's the arduous type. Shadow thought to himself and wrote those words down. Nothing I have not dealt with before.

"I'm okay," she says. "Is what you want me to say?"

Shadow was quick to stop his pen from twirling ink onto his sheet of paper before looking up at the girl sitting on the bed with ruffled quills that covered her face as she stared at her floor and hugged her knees.

"Are you going to talk or what?"

He sight, "It is how you should be." He replied to her other question.

"You're not a very good psychologist." She commented grimly, narrowing her eyes. "Then again neither were all the other ones before you. So, I shouldn't be surprised."

"Don't misunderstand me, Rosé. Grief is a difficult process. I am here to help you deal with your emotions. Tell me how you feel." He began, leaning on his hand. "Talk to me."

Her eyes wandered over to the dark hedgehog with disinterest until she fixated his features and shock manifested itself on her face. She jerked her head up as tears threatened to fall out of her eyes.

Her eyes widened, drinking him in—the man in a grey chequered suit, complete with black shirt, silver tie, the hedgehog. The face of… him. No. It couldn't be.

She didn't care who he was, because he was not him. She stuck out her chin, glaring. She wouldn't be fooled by similarities or stature. She didn't care he was tall and moved like he expected the world to lick his shoes. She would never lick anything of his.

"Get out." She hissed, turning away. "I don't want your help."

"...Very well..."

The man never broke eye contact, ensnaring her in his gaze. Slowly, he pushed off the chair and moved toward the door.

She froze.

He was smooth water—effortless in refinement but just like still water, dangerous if you couldn't swim. Deadly rips and currents lurked deep below the surface. She squinted her eyes, trying to figure out what made him unlike the others, he was an odd one.

Her eyes flickered back to his retreating form in bewilderment and she found herself reaching out to him. "Wait! What are you doing?"

"I thought you wanted me to apply to your wishes," he murmured.

"I know what I said," She snapped.

Once again, their eyes connected and she searched for the judgement like the psychiatrists before him, but he guarded himself too well. Nothing gave away what he thought.

She dropped her gaze, unable to look anymore. Tiredness descended, and all she wanted to do was sleep—to escape this nightmare.

"Tell me what it is you want," he said, watching closely.

Amy sucked in a breath. "You're supposed to be a psychiatrist. Yet you're walking out already?"

"Tell me what it is you want." He repeated.

"To die." She snapped, attempting to hide her face in her blanket.

"Perhaps you are right."

Amy raised her head and gazed with glossy eyes at Shadow, "What?"

He sighed as he reached into his pocket. "Death. Perhaps it is what's best for you. Here let me assist you." He said.

Amy's eyes widened when she witnessed him pull a knife from his pocket and leaned to the wall. Was he out of his mind? Never did she imagine a psychiatrist to suggest such an act. She shook her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "Get the hell away from me!"

Shadow crooked his head, gazing at the knife. "Is this not what you want? Or were you lying to yourself?"

Amy didn't know what to say to that unless he was going to slip into the same behavior he had a moment earlier. It was obvious that engaging in conversational-sparring matches with Shadow, no matter how innocent, led to dangerous territory and wreaked havoc on Amy's mental health.

"In that case, I'll go and let Cream know."

Amy glared at his back as he moved farther down the door, and at that moment, she wondered if Shadow was insane or simply enjoyed driving her on edge.

The dark hedgehog shut the door behind him as he walked down the stairs to where a worried looking rabbit sat fidgeting with her fingers before she made notice of him and offered a smile.

"Mr. Shadow, did everything go well?"

Shadow was silent as he fixed as he walked straight to the door and turned to her and said nonchalantly, "I believe I made quite an impression on her."

"Oh, that's great!" Cream gleamed up at him with hopeful eyes, "Will you come back tomorrow?"

He opened the door, "Of course. I never abandon a case. Farewell, Miss Rabbit. Until tomorrow." He said, and was gone.

To those who read, thank you, and I hoped you enjoyed it. Review if I should continue.