There is a brief mention of a panic attack, and Jamie talks to a psychiatrist, so some of the things that happened to him are brought up.

Blue Bloods

The following days were all pretty much the same. After the second nightmare, I started sleeping in dad's room. I still had bad dreams, but dad's presence made them less terrifying. We would get up and make breakfast together, or rather, I would watch him make breakfast, and then we would watch movies or play games. It took a lot of effort to go anywhere, so we mostly stayed in the living room. We would make lunch, and then I would fall asleep on the couch. I was tired all the time, but dad said it was normal while I was healing. Everyone came over at some point, and I was grateful to have such a caring family.

On Sunday we went to church. It was a disaster; I almost had a panic attack after just 15 minutes. Dad rushed me home and apologized over and over while I cried and wished that I wasn't scared all the time. We still had family dinner as usual. No one asked about my breakdown, and I suspected it had something to do with dad.

Being surrounded by family was the best thing for me. For a while, I forgot about what had happened. I lived in the moment instead of worrying about the future or reliving the past.

I, eventually, stopped flinching when dad touched me. I felt like it was a significant improvement. He always made sure I could see him when he moved toward me. I felt terrible that he had to, but I was grateful nonetheless. Whenever someone came up behind me, I freaked out a little. I felt like a ticking bomb, any sudden movement could set me off, and I had no way of knowing when it would be. Dad barely left my side; he had taken time off of work to be with me. I could tell he was scared that something would happen if he wasn't there to protect me.

A couple of days after I was released for the hospital, dad told me that Blake had pleaded guilty to kidnapping and was sentenced to 15 years with the chance of parole after 8 years. They had lowered it from a life sentence for extenuating circumstances. The fact that he hadn't personally hurt me, that he had saved my life, and that he had shown genuine remorse for everything that had happened, saved him from a lifetime in prison.

I felt bad for Sarah. Why was she living with her brother? Were her parents dead? Did she have any other relatives that could take her in, or would she end up in foster care? I had asked dad about her, but he didn't know either.

On Monday, I had my follow up appointment. Everything was healing well, although I was supposed to wait at least two more weeks before I could start physical therapy. They wanted the bones to heal so that I didn't accidentally do more damage.

After the examination, Dad and Dr. Hanson stepped out into the hall, and I could tell they were talking about the psychiatrist. I got dressed and waited for them to come back.

I looked up when the door opened, and dad smiled. "Ready to go?"

"Yep."

Dr. Hanson came over and put a hand on my shoulder. I concentrated on not flinching; I knew she wasn't going to hurt me. "I'm glad you're doing well, Jamie." She squeezed my shoulder. "I'll see you in two weeks."

I nodded and slid off the exam table. "So… Did she have any specific recommendations?" I asked.

He smiled. "You are my son. Yes. She has a friend who would be...equipped to help you." He answered hesitantly.

I grimaced at his word choice but nodded and followed him to the car.

Blue Bloods

Dad called the psychiatry office as soon as we got home. We had talked about what I expected and what would be expected of me. Dad had spoken to his fair share of psychiatrists, so he had at least a vague idea of what to expect. The doctor's name was Stacy Hoffman. She specialized in children that had dealt with trauma. She had graduated in 2003 and had an apprenticeship for four years; she had owned her own practice for the last seven years. Was she going to make me tell her everything that happened? Was she going to tell me that I just needed to get over my fear so I could move on with life? The longer I had to think about it, the more I was dreading having to go. I was brought out of my thoughts when dad came back in.

"So we have an appointment for Friday."

I nodded. I was nervous. I knew I needed help, but I suddenly regretted agreeing to see someone.

"Hey, it's going to be fine. If you don't like her, we can find someone else."

"Yeah, I… I know. I'm just nervous."

"It's okay to be nervous. I'll be there with you. Everything is going to be fine." He pulled me into a hug before pulling back and looking me in the eye. "We'll go for the first session and see what happens."

"Okay, dad."

Blue Bloods

When we walked into the office, I was a little shocked. It was way fancier than I thought it was going to be. I wondered, not for the first time, how much everything was costing. I was worried about how much stress everything was putting on dad. I felt guilty. The nightmares, the medical bills, my skittishness; I could see the pain in dad's eyes every time I flinched away from someone. I thought back to my breakdown on Sunday. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I knew no one was going to hurt me, but I was still scared. People kept coming up to me, asking how I was doing, saying they were glad that I was okay. I'm not okay, but no one really cared about the truth. Maybe that's what triggered the panic attack, hearing so many people tell me that I was okay. It made me feel like I wasn't supposed to be afraid anymore, that I should be fine now that I was home with my family. I wanted to go back to being the person I was before, but the harder I tried to be okay, the less I was. The only way forward is through. That's why I'm here; I have to work through everything instead of trying to go back or around.

I had also been watching dad over the past week. He was more worried than he let on. I needed to do this for myself, but I also needed to do it for him, to show him that I was getting better.

We arrived a half hour early so that he would have plenty of time to fill out paperwork. Dad told me to find a seat, and he went to check me in. Fifteen minutes after he finished the paperwork, the doctor walked out.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Hoffman; you must be Frank." She shook his hand and turned to me. "That means you must be Jameson."

"It's Jamie, actually." I corrected.

"Of course." She said with a smile.

She seemed kind enough, but I was still wary. Was she going to interrogate me? Force me to talk about what happened even if I didn't want to?

"I'll be out here when you're done," Dad said.

I smiled and followed Dr. Hoffman to her office.

"Sit anywhere you like."

I looked around at the, surprisingly, cozy office. There was a couch in the middle of the room with two comfortable looking chairs across from it. There was a coffee table in between them. It had a tray with a steaming pot of, what I guessed was, water. There was an assortment of teas and two small mugs on one side of the pot and a cup full of sugar cubes on the other. There was a desk behind the chairs, and behind the desk, there was a set of large bookshelves. At the other end of the room, behind the couch, was a large table and a shelf full of toys and games. I sat on the sofa, set the crutch against the arm, and tried not to fidget. Dr. Hoffman sat in one of the chairs and offered me a cup of tea. I accepted, grateful that I had something to occupy my hand.

"So, what would you like to talk about?" She asked.

I was a little confused. Didn't she know why I was here? I cleared my throat before answering, "Umm… I-I don't know." She didn't say anything, and I racked my brain for something to say. "You know why I'm here, right? My dad told you what happened?"

"Yes, he told me what happened. Would you like to talk about that?"

"Uh… Well not really but… That's why I'm here, right?" I looked up wondering what exactly she wanted me to say.

"That's okay; we can wait until your ready. Do you want to tell me a little about yourself?"

"O-okay. Um… I'm 17; I like reading and sports. I have two brothers and a sister. Danny's the oldest, then Erin, then Joe. I'm the youngest. Erin is going to law school, and Joe is at the police academy. My grandpa is the Police Commissioner, and my dad is a detective. My grandma died when I was little, and my mom died last year." Once I finished, I looked up and waited for her to say something.

"Well, I can tell that you care about your family. Are you close to Danny?"

I was a little surprised at the question and had to think about it for a minute. "I guess? Two weeks ago I would have said no, but now… He was there the first time I woke up in the hospital. My first night home, he was there. I had a nightmare, and he and dad stayed with me for the rest of the night. So I guess we are closer now."

"What was your nightmare about?" She asked cautiously.

I looked down at my cooling tea.

"You don't have to answer any questions that you don't want to."

I nodded. "How much do you know about what happened?"

"Your father gave me some basic information. You were kidnapped from your home by two men. They believed that you had assaulted a classmate. They tortured you and sent videos to your father. One of them brought you to the hospital. I decided that I wanted to hear the rest of it from you. When you're ready to share it, of course."

I nodded. "Blake didn't try to stop him… Denis at first, but in the end, he saved my life." I whispered to the floor. "The nightmare is always the same. Blake tries to take me to the hospital, and Denis stops us. Only this time, instead of just knocking Blake out, he kills him." I realize that I'm crying and quickly wipe my face.

When I look up, she gives me an encouraging smile. I look down at my now cold tea. I set the mug down on the table and sit back. Wanting to change the subject, I try to think of a question to ask her. "So, do you have kids?"

She smiles and puts her empty mug down. Isn't she supposed to take notes or something?

"I'll answer your question if you answer mine."

I think about it for a second before nodding.

"I have two children. Jonathan is 4, and Jane is 2." She pauses, and I look up. She catches my eye before continuing. "None of this is your fault."

"That's not a question."

She nods. "You're not denying it, but if you know it's not your fault, why do you feel guilty?"

I'm shocked. "How did you… How do you know that?"

"I'm good at reading people."

I hesitate. Why do I feel guilty? "I think it's because of my mom. She got sick, and there were a lot of medical bills. It was really hard on my dad."

"And now you feel like your dad is having a hard time with everything, like this is a repeat of when your mom was sick?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, I'm 17, I'm almost an adult."

"Do you think that if you were 18 that your father wouldn't be helping you as much?"

"I-I don't know… Maybe?"

"From what you've said about your family, and from the brief interaction I saw between you and your father, I can tell you are very close. There is no doubt in my mind that even if you were 25 when this happened, your father would show the same love and support that he is now. I don't think you could stop him if you tried."

I smiled. "I know, I just wish that it wasn't so hard."

"It will get easier."

I smile and nod. "I know. It already has."

She looks at her watch and frowns. "Well, that's all the time I have today, but I'll see you next week. If you decide that you like me."

Can she read minds or did dad say something earlier? "I'll see you next week." I got up and walked to the door. I turned and looked back at Dr. Hoffman. "Thank you."

"I'm glad I could help."

I opened the door and went to find dad. I walked up and hugged him.

"Hey. How did it go?"

"We are coming back next week," I said with a smile.

"So, you like her?"

"Yeah, she's...really nice."

"Good. Now, how about some lunch?"

"Sounds good."