John

"Can we please stop right now?" Christian asks, keeping his eyes on his hands. "I- I'm sorry." I stop him.

"What did I tell you before we started this Christian?" he looks up. "We are going to take this slow and keep it easy for you. Understand?" he nods. "Are you ready to stop for the day?"

"I don't know." he whispers. "Should we?"

I look at him completely shocked. I've been a psychiatrist for only three years, but even in those three years no one has asked me what they should do. The rich snobs always think they have it in their own hands, but they only come to me so they can have someone to bitch to after they messed up multiple times. It pisses me off. Christian surprises me at each turn.

"From what you have just told me, I think we should stop for the day." he slumps down in his seat. "We will start again tomorrow morning. The thing about this technique is to get you to open up to me about your past and not be afraid when you tell me. This isn't to torture you, but to help you ease into what happened."

"When do you think it will stop hurting?" he asks.

"Depends on what type of hurting you're talking about." I tell him.

"Talking about my past," he hints, "will it ever stop hurting?"

I think about it for a minute. What should I tell this man? Right now he looks like a scared child and now at this moment I know why. From what little he told me I don't know how he's capable of holding himself together. I guess it's because of his family, but the way he holds himself makes me think it's most likely because he doesn't want to look weak.

I need to be honest with him.

"Christian, look at me." I order. "This is our first session, just because of how this talk went doesn't mean the others will turn out like this. Now I'm going to be honest with you right now. Not everyone's pain goes away no matter how many appointments they have it just never works."

"Then why do they keep seeing a therapist?" he frowns.

"For comfort." I explain. "The therapist is the one who knows all their secrets Christian. You can tell us anything without a word spilling out of our mouth or us judging you. All we do is try and help you."

"Fine, okay John." he looks over his shoulder. "We better get inside before they all wake up."

"Let's go get breakfast for these guys since it seems that the two you were staying with didn't like to keep a stocked fridge." he rolls his eyes.

"Don't fucking remind me. Next time I try to run out just tackle my ass to the ground." Bullshit!

"Uh, man? You could of kicked all of our asses. So fuck you." I say. "I like my face." he laughs.

"Luckily your brother is the doctor." he says pulling on a shirt. I grab my shoes.

"Hey! I'm a doctor too." Damn. I almost slip on a damn banana peel.

"Yeah, yeah." he waves his hand causing me to flip him off.

We walk into the elevator and throw options back and forth between each other on where we want to go to get the breakfast. He says Ihop. I say McDonald's. Then he throws back Cracker Barrel. Okay, I was perfectly fine with that. He started bitching though because Ihop had the same shit. Hell no it didn't. The people who climbed in the elevator with us just laughed when we asked their opinions but then were star struck when they saw Christian.

When they got off, after taking pictures with Christian, I turned towards him.

"Okay, people will only recognize you up close. Those long curls of yours are gone and you have a nice beard." he raises an eyebrow.

"Um, thanks." I grin.

"You're welcome. Now come on before more fans recognize your ass." I rush. "Luckily this place is just down the street."

We walk out of the garage and make our way down the street. It's not as busy as I thought it would be for New York. It's a few minutes past eight and I take notice that Seattle is busier than this. But I guess it's because we aren't on the actual streets. I'm thankful. Christian is less likely to be noticed.

I feel a hand run along my shoulder, and I can tell it's not Christian's. When I turn around I see a woman leaning towards me, a cigarette in her other hand. Christian told me about her.

"What do you need?" I ask, removing her hand. Wait… where the fuck is Christian? My eyes quickly scan the streets, but before I can go anywhere the woman grabs me.

"Can you give me a light?" she asks me while fluttering her lashes. I roll my eyes. Bitch doesn't give up.

"Sorry. I don't take up that nasty shit." I pull away from her again as she glares at me. That felt good.

As I hurry down the street, I try to think of what could have happened. Did he mean to ditch me? Was he scared of that girl because she brought back memories? Or did that tumor fuck him up again. Multiple scenarios are running through my mind and it's bad that I don't know where to look. Usually I'm the man who has his shit together.

I hear grunting coming from the alleyway and cursing. The sound of a dumpster slamming down hard alarms me and I don't know if I should call the police or help. But when I look down the alley I run down towards the two as quick as I can.

Christian is being punched in the stomach by a man about the same size as him. He then blocks his next punch, shoving him back. This causes the guy to slip and hit his head on the brick wall.

When the man doesn't move Christian stands up and dusts himself off, walking over to me.

"Christian, what the fuck." I grab his arm, pulling him behind me. When we get into the light I see that there is blood on his face. "We need to get Justin to look at you."

"Okay." he says quietly. "The man isn't dead."

"I honestly couldn't give a fuck if he was or not." he looks at me, clearly surprised. "Did he just grab you out of nowhere?" he shakes his head.

"I knew him." he says as we walk back to the apartment.

"How?" I ask. "From what I saw I know it wasn't left on good terms."

"No, it wasn't." he scratches the side of his face, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm guessing you're not going to tell me about him today." I simply say. "We can talk about it tomorrow."

We make it into the garage. I press the button for the elevator. When the doors open, I let Christian go in first. It's awkward as we go up because the silence could be cut in half. He wants to say something, I can tell by the way he's standing that he does. I need him to trust me more.

Right before the doors open I hear him say something that peaks my curiosity.

"Don't worry." he whispers. "That's when he started showing up."

Then his ass leaves me to my thoughts. All I know is that my wife better leave me alone tonight so that I can work. I need to figure out what's going on by what little he's given me.