A/N: I am so sorry for the lack of updates, guys! I had five papers due and three exams this week, so my schedule has been jam-packed! In any event, I hope you all like this chapter!
As Steve changed, he wondered what happened to him. He didn't remember working out, but perhaps that was the blackout talking. He put his shirt on and tried to push the thoughts aside. His team wouldn't lie to him. He changed into a pair of cargo pants and went back out to take a walk around the block, completely oblivious to the fact that his team had called his psychiatrist while he'd changed.
Their concern escalated with the arrival of Bobby, and they'd called Dr. Holden from the kitchen. After explaining the situation and questioning the next step they needed to take, there had been a distinct pause on the other line. The doctor said that he would call Steve in for an emergency session.
The truth would have to come out.
The cell phone in Steve's pocket rang and he fumbled to get it out. It had taken him a long time to get used to the device, and even longer to understand how to work it. Tony had tried several times to explain it to him, but each time he'd understood less and less. Tony had given him an iPhone, and although he liked it alright as a phone, he didn't understand all of the extra functions it held, and it frustrated him. Finally, after much pestering, Tony had caved and bought him a simple flip phone with a camera. He pulled the sleek little black gadget out and flipped it open, pushing the small green phone symbol that allowed him to take the call.
"Hello?" He said, seeing the blocked number on the small screen.
"Steve? This is Doctor Holden. I wanted to know if you were free for a session today?"
Unbeknownst to the doctor, Steve's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Although he was still unaccustomed to this time period, he knew that no matter what year it was, dDoctor's never called without reason. He knew something had to be wrong.
"Yes, I'm free. When do you want me there?"
"As soon as you can get here."
Steve flipped the phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket as he ran back to get on his motorcycle.
When he arrived, the Doctor's door somehow seemed to loom over him. He hadn't felt so small since before he'd been injected with the serum. A jolt of fear rushed through him, and with great hesitancy, he opened the door.
Doctor Holden had been waiting for him in his usual spot.
"Steven," He said, smiling, but his tone was grave. "Please, take a seat."
Nervously, Steve sat down.
After a short pause, the Doctor asked, "What do you think you do during your blank spells?"
Steve was surprised at the simplicity of the question. "I don't do anything."
The Doctor paused. "Are you sure?" He asked.
Of course he wasn't, not now that he'd said that. But still mustered the strength to sound confident when he said "Yes."
The Doctor paused, uncertain of how to continue. Finally, he found the words.
"Steve," he said, quietly. "What if I told you there was a diagnosis for your blackouts?"
Steve, who had been studying the green wall, perked up and shifted all his attention to the Doctor. "There's a diagnosis?" He asked, quietly.
"Yes." He said, cautiously, "But I don't know how you'd react to it."
A dozen emotions flew by him at one hundred miles an hour: Shock, happiness, fear, and disbelief mingled together to create a whirlpool of Feeling. For a moment, he was silent, trying to figure out if he really wanted to know about this or not.
"There's a name for this?" He asked, almost too softly to hear.
"Yes, there is." Replied the Doctor almost as quietly.
"And you'll be honest with me? I don't want it sugar-coated."
"I can assure you that you have my word as a professional and as a friend that I'll be truthful with you."
Steve paused only a moment more before saying, "I'm ready."
"Steven, you have Dissociative Identity Disorder."
Steve's mind was racing at a million miles per hour, trying to understand what the words meant, but he couldn't seem to understand them. Finally, helplessly, with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, he asked more quietly than ever before, "What does that mean?"
The Doctor was silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain this to his patient. "It was classified as Multiple Personality Disorder during your lifetime."
Steve's mouth dropped open in shock and clear fear was etched into his eyes. He understood that phrase with perfect clarity. "W-What?" He stammered in disbelief.
"When you have these... Fugues, someone else comes in and takes your place. They're different levels of consciousness."
"I don't... I can't..." And suddenly his face crumpled and he began to cry, somewhat like Christian did, but the voice was more similar to Sam's. To the best of the Doctor's knowledge, he thought he was meeting Matthew. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in them.
"Hello there." Said the Doctor, gently. The boy's head shot up and looked straight at the Doctor in terror. Weather it was terror over the situation or over something else, the Doctor didn't know. He looked at the child's face, which was covered in tears and was clearly not Steve. "May I know your name?"
The boy stared at him with untrusting and fearful eyes. "M-Me?"
The Doctor nodded. "You. I spoke with Sam the other day." He said, hoping to calm the child down.
"Y-You talked to S-Sam?" He asked. When the Doctor nodded, he visibly relaxed a bit. "I'm M-Matthew."
"It's very nice to meet you, Matthew." The boy nodded weakly. The Doctor looked at him with silent scrutiny. "Can you tell me what's gotten you so upset?"
Matthew was silent for a moment before he spoke. "Change."
Doctor Holden raised an eyebrow. "What about change?"
"Steve is afraid of change. I am too."
"Why is Steve afraid of change?"
"Because every time change came, he got hurt."
"And what about you? Why does change scare you?"
"Because all the bad things started with change." Matthew's lip quivered again, and he started to cry again. The Doctor offered him a tissue, and he wiped his eyes.
"Do you want to talk about the bad things?" Asked the Doctor. He shook his head vigorously.
"I don't wanna talk." He said. Then, ever so quietly, added, "I want my Momma. I wanna go home." He said as the tears rolled down his cheeks. The a Doctor was incredibly quiet when suddenly the sad, lonely child was replaced with a fierce glare that had to belong to an adult.
"That is quite enough." Snapped an angry voice. Doctor Holden looked up in surprise. "We have a system, Doctor. It is our job to protect Steven from his past and carry that load. It is our job to protect him and everyone in here from exposure, and you have exposed us. He isn't ready to know- and now Matthew is terrified. Let me be clear: you have no place in that system, Doctor Holden. You're in way over your head here with your psychological Devil's work. You have no idea what you're dealing with." He finished gravely.
Doctor Holden already deduced that he was dealing with Mark, and responded accordingly: "I'm quite certain I do. Should you choose to come back to my office of "Devil's work", my door will be open to you. Have a wonderful day, and when you see Steve, tell him I am looking forward to seeing him again."
Fuming, Mark stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind him.