Disclaimer: I do not own wowp.
Warning: I don't speak too nicely about therapists in this fic. No offense is intended. I know there are a LOT of good therapist too, and I respect them. But this fic is gonna be harsh towards them. Don't like, don't read.
Justin Russo sat on a chair- a rather comfortable cushioned chair, and looked at the woman across from him, seated at the opposite end of the table, looking at him with a gentle smile. Air conditioning and snowfall outside don't exactly go side by side, so he couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine.
The doctor laughed lightly. "Are you scared, kid?"
He shook his head politely. "No… I'm just…." He contemplated whether it would sound too rude, but finally decided to just say it. "Cold."
The doctor picked up the pen immediately and scribbled something in the paper in her hands. "Pausing in between a sentence, huh? It could be lack of confidence, or maybe you were thinking of the perfect and believable lie."
Justin looked at her ridiculously. "What?"
The doctor smiled at him reassuringly. "Don't worry, honey, that's what I am here for…. Now. Tell me your problem."
"My problem?" Justin paused, fidgeting, and the doctor started taking notes again- which was really unnerving, really. It felt like he was some sort of untested gadget, and people were testing him and writing down about all his flaws. "My problem is…" he stopped, wondering how to phrase it properly.
"Hmmm…" the therapist seemed to be in deep thought, as she studied Justin carefully, him fidgeting even more under her scrutinizing gaze. "I see what your problem is."
Justin gasped. "You do?"
The therapist nodded. "Yeah, I do… You have problem saying long sentences."
Justin blinked incredulously. "What?"
"See." The therapist sent a pointed look in his direction. "You are always speaking in monosyllables or you are pausing in between your sentences. By the look in your eyes and face, it seems like you are having trouble forming words in your mind. It looks like you might have some problem of brain functioning. Or maybe parallel thoughts are running through your head simultaneously. It can lead to delusions or hallucinations in the future."
Really? Justin thought in his mind. He probably should have brought his report cards with him, and a recorded speech of him talking in full sentences at one breath. "Umm, not really." He said aloud.
The therapist patted his hand gently. "It's okay. You can tell me. I am here to help you."
"Okay." Justin relaxed a bit at her touch. "The thing is… ummm… I am kind of in a bit of stress now…"
The therapist started taking notes again. Justin looked at it from the corner of his eyes, and noticed this: "Uses words like umm, kind of. Lacks conviction and self-confidence."
He rolled his eyes, regretting his decision to see the therapist about his study pressure after joining college. "It's like…" he continued anyway (therapy isn't free, why waste money? His father wouldn't like that.). "College is a new territory for me… away from home, away from family-"
"-Do you get along well with your family?" the therapist interrupted.
Justin stuttered at the sudden unexpected question. (If he didn't get along with his family, would he be talking about missing them while in college?) "M-my family? Yeah… of course."
He licked his lips nervously, and the therapist noted that down too- it's like all his actions were being constantly observed under a microscope, and he was forced to think twice even before taking a single breath.
"Go on." She urged. "Tell me more about your relation with your family."
"Okay." Justin gritted his teeth, mentally angry at his mother for sending him here- and the therapist jotted that down too, with a 'Violent tendencies towards family members' note alongside it. (The most violent thing he had even done was hit his dad in the belly with his pencil.) "Well, my parents are really loving and caring, they are always nice to me, and they are really nice people. I really love them… then there's Max, my little brother. He's a bit dumb…" he paused when he saw the therapist write down 'Over-critical about siblings, delusional high judgment about himself, jealously towards little brother' and decided not to go into details about how Alex made him life miserable. "And then there's Alex, my evil sister. We fight and tease, you know, like usual… but she's my best friend. Don't tell her I mentioned it."
"Oh, don't worry, your words are perfectly confidential." The therapist assured, as Justin glanced at the case histories lying in files on her desk, unprotected from any intruders.
"So… do you fight with your siblings?" the therapist asked.
"Umm, yeah… don't all siblings fight?" he rolled his eyes, earning a 'trying to represent a normal sibling relationship' in her notes.
"Describe the fights." The therapist urged.
"Okay…" Justin paused to think. (He was talking about college, and she wanted to hear about his family?) "There was that one time Alex spilled my food over my dress. I got back at her by hugging her and spoiling her dress in return."
The therapist wrote down: 'revengeful, unforgiving, knows how to hold a grudge.'
"And then there was that one time I lost 400$ because of her… I got back at her by hugging her tightly."
When the therapist wrote down 'sadist tendencies', he finally decided to stop talking. "Well, that's it..."
The therapist nodded. "How do your parents react to your fights?"
He shrugged. "They don't like to get involved. They are used to it by now, I guess."
The therapist nodded again, and wrote down 'out of control of parents, disobedient' in her notes. "Okay, now time for some other tests." She said cheerfully, as she took out some papers from a file. "I will say some numbers, and you're going to have to remember them and repeat in the same order, okay?"
"Okay…" Justin replied uncertainly, wondering when exactly he told her he wanted to play a memory game.
"Say… 1 2."
"1 2." Justin deadpanned.
"Good." The therapist smiled. "635."
"635." Justin scoffed.
"9245"
"9245"
"61903"
"Okay, I am a 18 year old guy with all straight As." He finally protested, though calmly. "Will you please stop asking me these things?"
The therapist quickly took down notes again- 'sudden aggression. Mood swing. Can be bipolar.' "Okay then, let's try something else." The therapist pulled out another set of cards, and Justin wanted to bang his head. A set of pictures appeared, with her asking him to describe what he saw in them.
All done, the therapist came to this conclusion: "I see your problem! You are scared that you will be drugged by some strangers and sent to a far off island, isn't it?"
Justin blinked. "W-what?"
"Oh, let's test your concentration too!" the therapist said excitedly and quickly pulled out some papers for him. "Let me see what you have learnt in class. Write anything you want."
Justin chewed his pencil, wondering if the therapist would be able to comprehend anything about the 'history of guillotine'. He finally decided to just get this over with and went for it.
"Very good!" his therapist smiled, putting the paper aside without even reading it- just glancing at it and seeing it was long enough. "You are such a nice boy!"
Justin shrugged. He was a pretty good boy. Now if they could please get to the point where she would let him talk about his problems?
"Well… that's it for today then." She smiled cheerfully again. "I will see you next week. That would be 500 dollars only."
Back at home, with his mother messaging his forehead to relieve him of his terrible headache, which was not being helped by the loud music Alex was deliberately playing in her room, and his brother covering his shift at the sub-shop, Justin Russo's conclusion was this: The problem is his therapist.
(A/N: I personally believe that my therapist did nothing to me except highlighted minor problems that weren't even that important! And the ridiculous memory/concentration/IQ tests! And that constant annoying notes taking! Ugh!... I hope you enjoyed reading this if you had a similar experience. Please review and let me know what you think.)