Ladies and Gents! I have brought to existence yet another story to the Rise of the Guardians fandom (I should reeeaally get a life)—'cause every fandom needs a therapy fanfic.


Prologue

"This is such an idiotic idea. I can't believe you actually took Jack's suggestion seriously, North!"

"Relax, Pitch, is only test."

"Yeah, 'opefully they won't even see us."

"Uh, 'bout that," scratches neck, "It's a clinic—especially for spirits and mythicals."

"FROST! I WILL PLAGUE YOUR HEAD FOR A MONTH!"

"Calm yourself, Pitch, or we'll let you go first."

"Shut up you flying rainbow!"

Sandy symbols.

"Oh, put a sock in it, little man!"

Sing-song, "You're gonna be first, Pitchy."

"Guardians!"

A moment of silence.

"How about if I go first? As I am your leader?"

. . .

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Khorosho idea, Manny."

"Sure, why not?"

Thumbs up.

"Good luck, MiM."

"Finally you make the right decision, 'old friend'."

To self, 'Why did I choose a bunch of cowards as Guardians again?'

" . . . I'm not a Guardian, by the by."

"Pitch, stay out of my head."


Khorosho: good