Chapter 11: Gilbert's POV
Two weeks later, things had gotten much better for Matthew. It almost seemed like keeping what Carlos had done to him such a closely-guarded secret had taken almost as much of a toll on him as the actual trauma had. Once it was gone, he made progress five times as fast, and I had to say I was impressed. I had cut his nails, causing a significant decrease in the severity of his injuries after and during attacks, thank God. Another good thing was that he was having fewer and fewer schizophrenic attacks as he became desensitized to some of his triggers. He had gotten over his fear of the mere sight of the color red—thanks to my eyes, he said—and things like sudden noises and flashes of metal had stopped bugging him quite as much. He would still freak out if he thought too much about what had happened, or if his still dangerously low self-confidence got to him, but he usually stayed lucid enough to get to me before it really got bad. All in all, he was getting better, and I was proud of my little Birdie.
That was another thing. I had started referring to him as "my" or "mine" in my head, and just generally being a bit more protective—possessive, even—than usual. It was a bit terrifying, to be honest, and I wasn't sure what it was, but I knew that it sure as hell wasn't anything close
I decided to focus on helping Matthew recover, not sorting out whatever emotions I might have had. I decided to start small, since he was still pretty anxious around people, especially strangers, so I set up a family therapy session. I wasn't exactly looking forward to it, since Alfred was not someone I enjoyed spending elongated periods of time with, but it couldn't be too bad. After all, Matthew's quiet thoughtfulness and Alfred's annoying loudness had to balance each other out, right?
I wasn't exactly wrong. They didn't exactly cancel each other out, just made their polar opposite personalities more obvious. Matthew seemed a hell of a lot quieter—and gentler, to be honest—next to his brother. Personally, Alfred could probably be admitted as a patient, no matter how good a therapist he supposedly was. I wouldn't know; I didn't treat DID for a reason. It was a bit disturbing to think that some people had been so traumatized that their personalities had literally split into two or more seperate pieces. I didn't even want to think of the stories Alfred must have had to hear on a daily basis.
Still, even though he was annoying and a bit scary, to be honest, he was Matthew's brother, and the person who had saved him from that hellhole. I owed him the chance to help with his brother's progress, at the very least. Besides, family therapy was always a good starting point when it came to treatment. The patient was comfortable with the other people there, and everyone was usually supportive, so it could only help.
I set the appointment for a Thursday, since Thursdays were usually meant to be a relaxed day for therapists in preparation for the shitstorms that Fridays tended to be. Alfred agreed and so did Matthew, although he seemed a bit nervous. I didn't blame him; he hadn't seen his brother in what was probably months, so he had good reason to be a bit wary.
Matthew and I were both sitting on beanbags, the Canadian giggling cutely as some dumb joke I had made, when Alfred knocked.
"Come in!"
I heard a laugh and the door flung open; I winced when it hit the wall with a loud bang. I hoped it hadn't dented anything.
"The hero has arrived! How are you little bro?" Alfred bounced over to us excitedly and I resisted the urge to groan as he jumped onto a beanbag and almost split it at the seams with the force of his landing.
"Ah… I'm fine, Alfred. I'm… great, actually." Matthew smiled shyly at me and I felt my heart lurch oddly.
Alfred grinned. "That's great! Who gave you the bear, dude?"
"G-Gilbert gave it to me…"
Alfred winked suggestively at me and Matthew went bright red, hiding his face in the stuffed bear. I could feel my own cheeks warming up at exactly what Alfred was implying.
I cleared my throat awkwardly, swallowing through a suddenly dry throat. God damn it, Alfred. "Well, as much as I enjoy this… conversation, we do have some serious things to discuss."
Matthew glanced up gratefully and Alfred huffed in annoyance, thankfully dropping the topic for the moment. It was embarrassing me and Matthew both, and I didn't want to think about the implications if what he said was true.
"So, what exactly are we talking about? I don't usually do family therapy with my clients, and I have an appointment with a patient in about an hour and a half, so I hope it's quick." Alfred leaned back on the beanbags, yawning. I realized he had some pretty dark bags under his eyes… I could only wonder how many patients he had at the time.
"Well, since I know… what Matthew went through, I'd like to start with that. Alfred, you were the one who found him, right?"
The American's face went dark and he nodded. "Yeah. I hadn't heard from Mattie in, like, two months, so I went to check on him and caught his bastard of a boyfriend in the act; called the police. After that, well…"
Matthew hadn't spoken of his time in the regular hospital and I glanced over at him thoughtfully. Nothing else could have happened to him there… right?
Matthew shook his head, like he could read my mind. "It's… not what you're probably thinking, Gil. I just can't remember much of it."
At my inquisitive glance, he sighed and looked at the ground. Alfred set a hand on his brother's back and shot me a look that warned me not to push Mattie too hard. However, after a few shaky breaths and a brief moment, Matthew looked back up, his violet eyes locking with mine. Despite how nervous he seemed, his expression was one of pure determination.
"I… For the first few months, it was pretty much just one a-attack after another. I just… I don't know. I guess I was just terrified, and the pain was just so new that I hadn't been able to block it off quite yet. Anyway, people didn't really remember that I existed, so I was pushed to the side a lot and they'd only realize I was having another attack when I was screaming and thrashing so much I was actually breaking the equipment. Apparently I'm stronger than I think."
I couldn't help but chuckle at that. Matthew had told me that he like to play hockey, and that he wanted to do it professionally one day. He had said "if I ever get out," but I knew it was only a matter of time. He was doing so well that I knew instinctively that it wouldn't be much longer until he was out, most likely for good.
That thought made me a little sad. I'd realized that, as horrible as the circumstances were, I considered Mattie a friend, and I'd miss him when he left. I knew that there was a high chance that I'd be able to see him again, but losing him was a scary thought to me.
"There was this one nurse, though, Elizaveta. She was really nice. When I was lucid enough to actually hold a conversation, we talked a lot. She helped a lot, to be honest. She… pulled me out of my mind, I guess. Sorry, that probably doesn't make sense."
Matthew curled in on himself, hugging his knees close with Kuma between them and his chest. He seemed a bit embarrassed to have said something like that, but I was ecstatic. He was starting to talk in longer and longer chunks. If he turned out to be a natural chatterbox, that would be fine with me, because if I saw that side of him, it meant I was doing my job right.
Then again, Matthew had become much more than a job a long time ago.
After family therapy ended, Alfred pulled me aside and grinned. Matthew clearly sensed the shit storm approaching and made his way out of my office, probably to go back to his room or to go find Lovino, Toni's sassy Italian patient who somehow got along with Mattie pretty well. It was an interesting relationship to watch, but hey, I wasn't going to complain as long as Matthew was making friends and calming Lovino the fuck down.
"So… You and Matt, huh?" I could only pray that the fire in my cheeks didn't show.
"What do you mean? Mattie's my patient, for Christ's sake." It was more the fact that it was technically illegal for me to have any sort of romantic affiliation with a patient than the fact that it was Matthew. If Matthew was comfortable enough with that sort of relationship after he got out, then… Well, he was adorable, available, and I'd sure as hell ask him out.
Alfred groaned and rolled his eyes theatrically. "Oh, come on. I know you have a thing for him. And I know he has a thing for you. Just have sex already, man!"
If I wasn't blushing before, I definitely was then. The mere thought of seeing—
No. N-O. Not okay, Gilbert! Bad imagination! My face was on fire and I could barely meet Alfred's eyes. He laughed, like he knew what I was thinking, but sobered quickly.
"Seriously, though. I don't mind you dating him; you're a great guy and you managed to bring him out of his shell. I don't think I've seen him that talkative in my life. But. You hurt him, and you'll have hell to pay. Don't think I won't hurt you."
Alfred's eyes were cold and hard, unforgiving. I gulped; he could be pretty scary when he wanted. Still… hurt Mattie? He'd have to get to me before I did if he wanted a shot at hurting me.
"I won't. I couldn't hurt Matthew. Not now, not ever."
He grinned, his usual boisterous attitude back. Alfred clapped me on the shoulder, winked knowingly, and walked off.
I was pretty sure I needed either a nap or a cold shower, what with my imagination. Maybe both.
