Chapter 4: Therapy

Longshot left later that afternoon, promising that he would come and visit soon and that he would call Smellerbee to save her from impending boredom. Smellerbee settled herself on the couch as Cris saw Longshot out.

"Thank you, Liam," Cris said as he walked the boy to his car.

"For what?" Longshot asked, confused.

"For helping Bee," Cris replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "and for looking out for her."

"She's one of my best friends," Longshot admitted, blushing slightly. "I'll do anything for her – to help her adjust. I can't imagine how hard this must be for her."

"The doctors need her to go to therapy, but Smellerbee's stubborn and she'll probably refuse to go," Cris sighed. "If she does, would you mind talking to her? I have a funny feeling she'll listen to you way more than me."

"Of course," Longshot nodded. "I want Bee to be OK. I'll do whatever I can to help."

Cris clapped him on the shoulder. "You're always welcome here," he said, smiling.

Longshot grinned, nodding and slipping into his car. Cris waved him off before trekking back to the house. He wandered through to the living room and stared as Smellerbee just sat there, unsure of what to do with herself.

"Bee," Cris said and his daughter looked in his direction, but not at him.

"Yeah?"

"Tomorrow, the doctor made an appointment with a therapist. They want you to talk to her," Cris told her, crossing the room to stand in front of Smellerbee.

"A therapist? I – Dad, no," Smellerbee sighed, dropping her head into her hands.

"Just give it a try, Smellerbee," Cris pleaded.

"I don't remember the attack, Dad," Smellerbee insisted, her voice pleading. "Please don't make me go."

"Just try it for one session," Cris begged, "and if you feel it doesn't help then we can forget it."

Smellerbee wrung her hands together nervously. "I – fine. Just one," she relented and Cris smiled in relief.

"Thank you," Cris exhaled, placing a hand on Smellerbee's shoulder. "What would you like for dinner?"

"Could we have some pasta?" Smellerbee asked, hopefully.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll start cooking now," Cris said.

"Daddy?" Bee asked and Cris turned, coming to a halt in the doorway that connected the living room and kitchen. "Could you turn the TV on? Just on low. I know I can't see it but I can't stand the silence."

"Yeah, no problem," Cris replied. He switched it on and turned the volume down low, switching the channel to one of Bee's favorite shows. Cris just wished he could do more for his daughter.

Cris drove Smellerbee to the therapist's in silence. Smellerbee had been quiet all morning and Cris knew that she didn't want to talk but he was sure that it would help. Cris pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. He jumped out and Smellerbee slid out of her seat, closing the door behind her. She felt her way along the car and Cris took her arm, Smellerbee flinching at the sudden contact. It broke Cris's heart to know that his own daughter flinched if he so much as touched her.

"I'm sorry," Smellerbee whispered, sounding pained.

"It's OK, Bee," Cris assured her gently. They walked inside and were greeted by an all-too-perky receptionist.

"Hi there. You must be the Futtermens. Ursa will be out shortly."

"Thank you," Cris smiled and led Smellerbee over to a row of chairs. They waited in silence, Cris only looking up when a woman came out. She was short, with long dark hair and was of Asian heritage.

"Hello, I'm Ursa. You must be Cris and Alice," she greeted warmly.

"Nice to meet you," Cris replied, standing up and shaking her hand. Smellerbee stood too and stuck out her hand. It was held a little too high but Ursa just smiled and shook it.

"If you would like to follow me," Ursa said and Smellerbee reached out to grab Cris. They followed Ursa in to a private room and she shut the door behind them. "Take a seat and make yourselves comfortable," Ursa told them kindly, gesturing to the couch, to which they obliged. She sat down opposite them and pulled out a note pad. "Now, these sessions are completely confidential Alice, you father doesn't have to be present," Ursa explained. "We can talk about anything you like. The attack, the new school you'll be attending, your day, anything you like." Smellerbee nodded but stayed silent. "I'm also here to talk to you about the possibility of getting a cane or a guide dog."

"A guide dog?" Smellerbee echoed, perking up for the first time and Ursa smiled, taking note of this.

"Yes, to help you out," she clarified. "If you're not an animal lover then you can just use the cane but with the guide dog, you wouldn't need the cane all the time."

"I – I think I'd like that," Smellerbee said softly and Ursa made a note.

"We'll talk about that later," she grinned. "Right now I want to get to know you. Tell me about yourself."

Smellerbee swallowed and twisted her hands nervously. "What would you like to know?" She asked.

"What are your hobbies?" Ursa inquired. Cris listened to his daughter with a small smile as she listed her interests – talking about swords and the musicals she liked and wished to see. Ursa made notes and commented when appropriate. They talked for the whole hour and when it was up, Ursa smiled warmly. "We're out of time today, but Alice, I would like to see you once a week," she said. "Is that OK?"

Smellerbee bit her lip, seemingly deep in thought. "Yes," she decided eventually.

"Excellent," Ursa beamed, though her hesitation didn't go unnoticed. Smellerbee stood and Cris scrambled to his feet. "See you next week. Same time," she said. She took Smellerbee's hand and shook it and then did the same to Cris.

"Thanks," Cris told her gratefully, shaking the hand that was offered to him.

"Oh, before you go, your cane," Ursa reminded her, going to her desk and grabbing the cane that was propped up against it. She put it in Smellerbee's hands, which tightened their grip around it. It felt foreign in her grasp, she noted. It smelt brand new and the object was clean and rubbery under her palm.

"Thanks," Smellerbee smiled. Though it was funny-smelling and strange to hold, at least a cane meant some independence.

"Oh, and I don't go by Alice. I'm sorry for telling you now but my name is Smellerbee, or Bee for short."

"Oh, okay. And you are very welcome. Bye Smellerbee," Ursa raised a hand in parting and Cris nodded, leading Smellerbee out. They didn't talk until they got in the car and were driving home.

"Dad?" Smellerbee asked.

"Mm?" Cris grunted, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Thanks for making me go," Smellerbee said with a small smile.

"You're welcome, kid," Cris grinned. "I'm glad it helped."

Kori and David watched Longshot go to reach for his phone for the 16th time – they'd been keeping count – in the last ten minutes. It was lunch time and they were sitting in the cafeteria, along with several other F.N.S. members. Longshot had been quieter than usual and Kori and David were growing increasingly more worried about their friend.

"Waiting for a call?" Kori asked and Longshot looked up in surprise.

"Pardon?" He raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You keep going for your phone," David explained and then grinned wickedly. "You wouldn't be waiting for call from a certain endearing spy, would you?"

Ever since Smellerbee had come to spy on the F.N.S, they had taken to teasing Longshot non-stop about his new-found companion. "I'm wondering if she's home so I can call her," Longshot explained, looking concerned as he saw that he didn't have any new messages or missed calls.

"Something wrong?" Kori asked, concerned.

"She was attacked a few days ago," Longshot told them quietly but loud enough so that the whole table heard. They shared worried glances, unsure of how to approach the situation.

"Is she OK?" Alli asked from beside Longshot.

"Not really. She's blind now," Longshot said, heavily.

Several pairs of eyes widened and Kori shook her head. "Blind? They blinded her?" She echoed, disgust written all over her face.

"Cris won't let her have many visitors but he let me go yesterday," Longshot explained. "Cris – Smellerbee's dad – was going to try getting her to go to therapy today."

"How did they – how did they blind her?" Song asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

"Smellerbee didn't tell me and I didn't ask," Longshot answered. "I'm worried about her."

"Her whole life has just changed," David sounded sorrowful. "I'm worried about her, too."

"You should call her," Kori suggested, nodding to Longshot's phone. He nodded and quickly excused himself, heading out into the courtyard.

Smellerbee had given him her home phone number and Longshot dialed it. It rang once, twice, three times before Cris picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" He answered gruffly.

"Hello Sir, this is Liam Donato speaking."

"Oh, hey, Longshot. Shouldn't you be in school?" Cris asked, using his nickname.

"It's lunch time," Longshot assured him. "Am I interrupting?"

"Nah you're alright, kid. You want to speak to Bee?" Cris guessed, smiling knowingly though Longshot couldn't see it.

"Yes, please," Longshot chuckled.

"Hold on a minute," Cris said and Longshot waited patiently.

"Hello?" This time, it was Smellerbee who spoke and Longshot could hear her confusion.

"Hey Smellerbee, its Longshot."

"Hi Longshot," Smellerbee greeted, her smile audible.

"How did it go today?" Longshot asked.

"How did you know I went to therapy?" Smellerbee questioned, suspicious.

"Your dad told me. He was afraid you wouldn't want to go," Longshot answered truthfully.

"Of course he did," Smellerbee muttered. "I went and it was...fine, I guess. They gave me a cane."

"How does it feel?" Longshot asked, sitting down on one of the benches that lined the courtyard.

"It feels weird, Longshot," Smellerbee sighed. "It's all rubbery and my hands will be ruined."

Longshot chuckled and Smellerbee huffed dejectedly. "I'm sure your hands will stay soft," Longshot assured her, blushing slightly.

"I feel like an old lady," Smellerbee moaned, clearly unaware of Longshot's embarrassment, "and I can't even decorate it. I might even get you to do it, even though I can't appreciate the beauty of it, I can't let my lack of vision stop me from being very forward and awesome."

Longshot chuckled. "I can honestly say that this is the first time anyone has ever asked me to decorate a cane, but I don't know why I'm surprised. Of course I'll do it for you, Smellerbee."

Smellerbee smiled. "But, failing that, I could get a guide dog," she continued.

"Is that something you'd like?" Longshot asked, perking up at the idea of a dog.

"Yeah, it would be nice. Nicer than a synthetic stick, that's for sure," Smellerbee said. The Ba Sing Sa bell rang and Longshot groaned. "You have to go."

"Yeah. I'm sorry," Longshot winced.

"It's OK. I guess I'll talk to you later," Smellerbee said, sounding deflated.

"Can I come over after school?" Longshot suggested.

"It's over an hour away," Smellerbee replied, skeptically.

"I don't mind," Longshot assured her.

"Yeah, of course you can," Smellerbee breathed, smiling brightly.

"Cool, I'll see you then. Bye," Longshot beamed.

"Bye."

Longshot hung up and quickly hurried to his locker. Kori and David were leaning against it, waiting for his return.

"How is she?" Kori asked as soon as he was in earshot.

"Frustrated," Longshot answered, "but I'm going to go over there tonight to see her."

"Tell her we say hi," David grinned, "and make sure you come see us before you go. We'll have something for Smellerbee by then."

"It had better not be another exploding banner," Longshot warned and Kori and David just grinned, backing away slowly and melting into the crowd of students that swarmed the hallway.