"Vin - I didn't know you were here..."

Vin was standing at the reception window in his doctor's office. He spoke to the older male doctor behind the desk. "Yeah - came to update my referral to Dr. Tomason. You know..." He twirled his finger next to his temple. "...the psychologist."

The doctor sighed. "You don't have to be crazy to see a psychologist Vin..."

"No, but it helps..." Then he shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I know..."

"You're still getting those nightmares?"

"Like you wouldn't believe...they just get more and more disturbing all the time..."

The doctor opened the door between the waiting room and the treatment area. "I have a few minutes, c'mon back, let's talk."

"...'kay..." Vin followed him down the hallway to his office. They were roughly the same height, but Vin was thinner. They went into the office and the doctor shut the door.

"Have a seat..." The sat on opposite sides of the desk. "How long have you been seeing Dr. Tomason?"

"Six months. My referral ran out and I have to get another one before I go there today..." Vin looked around as he spoke. He liked this office, it was big and uncluttered, with pictures and souvenirs of the Southwest.

"And he hasn't been any help at all?"

Vin gestured in frustration. "Even put together we can't come up with what might be causing these nightmares...they're so bizarre and they change all the time..."

"Like what for instance?" The doctor asked. He looked intently at Vin, who couldn't meet his eyes.

"Well...this is going to sound really stupid...sometimes I dream I'm in the Old West...all the guys are with me, y'know? Chris is still in charge, boss as always. But even then, I'm dreaming that I get shot, or hurt, or I'm always so sick I'm practically dying..."

"Vin - the ATF is a stressful job..."

"I've never been shot." Vin shook his head. "Sometimes I dream and I'm at work with the guys...but it's still the same. And always, always this terrible loneliness, like I've got no one to depend on..." He got a pained look on his face.

"What?"

But Vin was reluctant to say. "Lately I've been dreaming that I've got no family. Mom is always dead, that never changes. But sometimes I dream that I was in a foster home, or an orphanage...lately I've been dreaming that Grandpa...was mean to me... Ain't that weird? Grandpa was never mean to me... after how he took care of me after Mom died... how could I hate him?"

"You dream that you hate your grandfather?" The doctor was surprised.

"Sometimes." Vin nodded. "Sometimes, even in my nightmares I'm getting nightmares...it's almost like - like -" But it was too silly to say.

"Like what?"

"Well..." He dragged it out. "I've had the most ridiculous idea in my head that there's somebody out there, with a word processor or a computer and they're typing all this stuff up about me, and somehow it's channeling into my brain... like somebody writing stories or scripts that get acted out when I'm asleep. It is so weird..."

"Well, you hold on son. Dr. Tomason is the best. You'll get to the bottom of it."

"Lord, I hope so."

Someone knocked on the door behind them, and the nurse came in. She smiled when she saw Vin. "Here's your referral Mr. Tanner...Doctor, Mrs. Strickler cancelled."

"Again." He said. "Thank you." When the nurse was gone, he turned to Vin.

"I'm free, would you like to do lunch?"

"No, thanks. Can't." He checked his watch. "On my way to the shrink now..." Vin stood up and followed the doctor to the door of his office.

"Okay, let me know how it goes."

"I will." Vin said and gave the doctor a quick hug. "Thanks Dad."