Jason looked at the small office Bruce had driven him to. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it. He thought shrinks worked in large intimidating buildings, but then again maybe that was the point. People wouldn't talk if they were nervous. He didn't want to do this, but Bruce wanted him to try at least. What good would it do to talk about what had happened? Plus there was a lot of stuff he wouldn't be able to talk about because of Bruce's illegal activities, so it meant he would have to have his guard up. How was this supposed to help if he was hiding things? Well, he just had to go one time at least. Then he would be off the hook.
They walked inside and up the front deck. The receptionist asked for a name, and then handed Bruce a clipboard of paperwork to file out. The two of them sat down, and Bruce got to work.
"Do you know if your family has a history of mental illness?" Bruce asked. He'd already wrote down Sheila's drug addiction and Peter's alcohol abuse. Where there was substance abuse there was usually some form of mental illness, whether it was depression, anxiety or something else.
"I think Mom had problems with depression, but she was never diagnosed. I don't know if her parents had problems, and I don't know about Peter or his mom and dad," Jason answered. He read the questions as Bruce went through them, occasionally asking for confirmation. One inquiry stopped him momentarily.
"Have you ever attempted suicide?" Bruce asked, gently. That was terrifying, and he pushed down all the horrifying imagines that went through his head at that possibility.
"No," Jason said, shortly. He'd seen too many people die to think about something like that. He hadn't had a clue what to do or how he planned to survive. What he'd thought he was going to do with his life was anyone's guess, but he'd made it this far. Life was too fragile to throw it away.
"Have you been depressed for a week or more at a time?" Bruce asked.
"I got beat up every other night, and I saw two women die in my home," Jason said. His tone held a vacant air about it, like it always did when he talked about his past. "You do the math." That was a yes then. Bruce finished with the questionnaire and returned it to the receptionist.
It wasn't long before Jason was called to a room in the back. It was full of toys and books. At one side of the room was a large desk with a chair behind it, and two soft comfy looking ones were set across from the third chair. At the other side of the room there was a table with chairs around it. It reminded him of the room where he'd been interviewed when he was at social services, only this felt less like it wasn't just for younger children. A man sat behind the desk, looking at some paperwork. He was very tall and broad shouldered. His hair was thick, curly and dark brown and he had a rather messy beard. He looked up and smiled when he saw Jason standing in the doorway. "Come in," he said, waving his new patient to one of the chairs across from him.
Jason slipped across the room, like a ghost and sat down without making a sound.
"You must be Jason Todd. It's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Reece Kilgore," the doctor said. How someone could be intimidating and gentle at the same time was a mystery to the former thief. "Just so you know everything we talk about is confidential. Your guardian won't know what we talk about unless you give me permission. Everything you tell me will stay between us unless you tell me someone is abusing you, if you're going to kill yourself, or if you're going to kill someone."
"Okay," Jason said, quietly. He didn't know if he wanted Bruce to know what they talked about, not yet anyway. He was just going to see how this went and take it from there. That's what life had become at that point. It was a waiting game and he was waiting for the next storm to break. "What kind of weird name is 'Kilgore'?" It was about the kind of freaky name you would expect to hear in Gotham. Kill and gore. That about summed up that terrible city.
The doctor chuckled good naturedly. "It's a Scottish name. My ancestors lived in Scotland, but they came here and brought the name with them. What about you? What kind of name is 'Todd'?"
Jason's eyes hardened. "A bad one." He wanted to change his name. He didn't want anything to remind him of his father. Especially not that man's name following his own, but he didn't know how to even begin that conversation with Bruce. He was too scared his guardian would say no, or worse be disgusted that someone like Jason wanted to use the name Wayne.
"And why is that?" Kilgore asked. His voice held a piercing tone to it, like he was searching for a response with just his voice. His greenish brown eyes had an inquiring look about them, and there was also something behind that questioning gaze that demanded a truthful answer.
"I'm sure you saw the news. My father is a murderer." Jason answered. He didn't see what this had to do with anything.
"And what are you?"
Jason paused, thinking that over. "I was a thief and a drug courier. Now I'm a kid in the foster system and a victim of child abuse." That last one hurt to say, but it was true. He didn't like thinking of himself like that, but it was what had happened. He couldn't forget it no matter how much he wanted to.
Dr. Reece smiled at him kindly. "But weren't you a victim back when you did those other things?"
"I didn't have time to think about it then. Now I have nothing but time," Jason answered. They sat for a long time, just talking about whatever subject they happened to land on. "I don't see how this is supposed to fix what's wrong with me," the former thief said finally. If this was what therapy was like he might as well stay at home. He talked to Dick, Bruce and Alfred about stuff like this all the time.
"I'm not trying to fix you, Jason. You'll most likely always have problems because of the life you've lived. Tell me; when you first got to your new home would you have told anyone there what you were feeling or what you've done?" Kilgore said, turning the statement around.
"No. Why would I?" Jason shot back.
"Exactly. You didn't talk to them because you didn't trust them and to a degree you probably still don't. You wouldn't come in here and tell me about your life just because I asked you to. You've been hurt by people you were supposed to be able to turn to above everyone else. Trust is not something you're willing to give at the drop of a hat. It must be earned, and that is what I want us to work on. Someday you may find that you're able to speak to me about the things you didn't think you would able be to, but that's not something that you should be pushed to do. It will only do more harm in the long run."
"So we're just supposed to have conversations about the best places to find drug stashes until I feel like talking about how I was beaten with a belt or strangled until I blacked out?" Jason said dully. This was going to take forever.
"Tell me, what were you thinking about when you mentioned those two things?" Reece said, jumping on that point.
Jason was a little startled by the sudden change. "I don't know... The night Bruce found me, and took me to the Manor. How he cleaned up my wounds and how mad he was that I'd been hurt. What does that have to do with it?"
"You weren't thinking about what happened. You were focusing on something good. That, Jason, is a wonderful place to start," Reece smiled. "You will have to learn to confront what happened, and we'll work towards that, but for right now, while you're still healing keep thinking about how Bruce saved you." It wasn't long after this Jason's session ended. Reece and Jay walked out to the main office to find Bruce reading a magazine. "Mr. Wayne, I would like to speak to you for a moment."
Bruce got up and followed the doctor back, while Jason sat down to wait. Dr. Kilgore led the Dark Knight to the back room. "I know you can't tell me anything that was said, but how does he seem to you?"
Reece nodded. "This is something where it's hard to define the line of oversharing, but I can tell you this: children are not as resilient as people seem to think. They simply have no choice but to weather the storms caused by other people's actions as best they can. If Jason is forced to weather many more storms I doubt he will be able to recover. As it stands I think he has a very good shot at learning how to deal with all of this and have a perfectly normal life," the doctor said, encouragingly.
Bruce sighed. "Thank you very much, Dr. Kilgore." He shook the man's hand, gratefully. That's what he'd been hoping to hear.
"One more thing, Mr. Wayne. I'd advise you to be very careful. You are his lifeline and if that line begins to fray, he will cut it, in his mind to save himself, but it will destroy any chance he has at ever being able to have a healthy relationship with anyone. He will despise the world for what it has done to him, and he will come to despise you more than he does his father. You are his last chance, Mr. Wayne. Do not let him drown."
A very special thanks goes to Lunaxsol for their help and advise with this chapter. Thanks for reading, following, favoring and/or writing a review.