Tuesday, August 25th

"You look tired, Sara. Do you want to end it here?" Doctor Weinberg asked.

"Is it a good time to end it here?" She was tired, she had worked for ten hours, from six to four, drove home, changed and went straight to therapy. After she had only one appointment per week, she had it at five when she worked in the mornings and at eight when she due for the afternoon shift. This way, doctor Weinberg didn't have to shift her other patients around because Sara wasn't able to be here at the same time every week.

"The way you look, yes."

"You haven't told me what you think of my dreams."

"Because it's something we can't talk through in five minutes, Sara."

"I'm far away from being okay, right?"

"How do you feel?"

"Better. I still have weird dreams, light nightmares but I don't sleep alone. I'm afraid when I stay the whole night alone in my bed, the nightmares will be back."

"Did Sofia say she wants you to go back to your bed?"

"No." Sara smiled. "She'd never do that, she likes me in her bed. Another reason why I feel guilty, I'm afraid…no, that would take too long too."

"Time can be an awful pressure, can't it?"

"Yes."

"If you want to talk Sara, we can make another appointment. This week."

"You deserve a free evening."

"I've the whole weekend off."

"Lucky you. No, I'm glad I can work again. Finally I earn some money and don't spend it the whole time."

"Plus you get your thoughts away from your past and can concentrate on something else."

"A typically therapist comment." Sara got up. "Awful."

"So true."

"I've to go, I think we're over the time."

"You can run away today, next week I'll make you talk about all the things you try to avoid today." The doctor smiled.

"You know what the worst thing is?" Sara sighed.

"What?"

"I got so used to come here, I'd miss therapy if I stay away. It's awful to say this, but you're really a help and being here isn't that bad at all."

"Thank you very much."

"There's only one thing bothering me, doc."

"What's that, Sara?"

"No…forget it." Sara shook her head. Wrong topic.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah…that doesn't belong here."

"If it bothers you…"

"It has nothing to do with my PTSD."

"You can talk about other things, that bothers you, too."

"No, I think I don't want to mix that up. Sorry."

"Alright. If you change your mind, you're free to talk to me."

"Thanks. Have a nice weekend and we'll see each other on Monday morning."

"Enjoy your new job, Sara."

Sara opened the front door, dropped her bag on the floor, kicked her shoes on top of a little mountain of other shoes, that belonged to her, Sofia and Don. One day they had to separate them all to find out, which shoes belonged to whom. Instead of going into the kitchen to find something to eat, she went upstairs to her room, went in, fell on her bed and closed her eyes. That was good. Finally she was home, was able to put her legs up and close her eyes. Time to relax. Ten hours of work and therapy were hard on her body and her mind. She had been for five days on the job and was already collection overtime. Nothing she complained about. They had told her, she was likely to work some more hours in summer and have less hours in winter time. With Hawaii being a five hours flight away, she knew where to spend her first longer holidays. Surfing on Waikiki beach.

"Somebody looks tired." Don came in the room.

"I am. I've been up for fourteen hours, ten of them walking through the forest and one spilling my guts in therapy."

"Both things were exhausting in different ways." He sat on the edge of her bed.

"Yes. I guess I walked fifteen miles today, maybe more. They took me checking on walking trails, little ones you can't take the car. A hiker is missing, nobody knows if he got lost in the forest or if he is anywhere else. Or if he isn't missing at all and instead having a party in Las Vegas."

"He has been seen in the forest?"

"Yes, yesterday with a little backpack."

"If he is there, you'll find him. You're a CSI, you can read traces."

"I'm a ranger."

"They can read traces too."

"Yes."

"And your doctor didn't feed you with muffins and sent you home?"

"No, she wanted to do real therapy. I feel like I'm stuck since I see her only once a week. How am I supposed to get over my disorder when I don't work on the problems. I told her about some strange dreams, that scared me, she didn't talk about it with me because we were running out of time."

"You still have nightmares?"

"Yes. Not that severe anymore, but they're still there. And the last nights I trembled again after I did good for a week. Do you think it could be because I'm working now and don't have my whole energy to concentrate on therapy?"

"Could be. Do you see things at work, that reminds you of your past? Things, that can trigger the nightmare?"

"No, I don't think so. Work is stressful, that's for sure, I'm very tired every evening, feel like I ran a marathon, but exercise is good for me. I…I don't know. I guess it's me who stands in my way."

"How's that?"

"This sounds so ridiculous."

"Does it?"

"Yes."

"Well, try me and I tell you honest if it does."

Sara closed her eyes. Should she really say this? It was really ridiculous. Don would have a good laugh and think, she's a stupid school girl. An adult wouldn't bother about this, would get over it. Maybe she was stuck in her past so much that she started to regress from an quite smart woman to a stupid teenager.

"Greg and doctor Weinberg were out for dinner twice."

"So you told me."

"And I don't know what to make out of that. I think, I don't like the idea that my therapist dates my friend. Which is absolutely stupid because if she does, she doesn't mention it, it has nothing to do with my therapy and my problems, she's doing everything to help me and I…I am simply stupid I guess. Foolish like a teenager."

"No." He took her hand. "You go to her and you're absolutely open and honest. You expect the same from her too, she doesn't talk about her private life while you tell her every detail, even things you don't want to think of. This wouldn't be a problem if her private life weren't be somehow connected to your private life. Greg is a friend of you, you're interested in him."

"I'm not…"

"I mean as a friend, Sara. Why don't you ask him if he still has contact to your therapist?"

"Because I feel stupid when I do. I almost told her today, which was bad enough. She'll think I'm totally stupid."

"If she does, she's a really bad therapist. You are a lot of things, stupid isn't one of them, Sara. Why don't you ask Greg?"

"He'll tell me if I have to know."

"You don't want to ask private questions because you expect people not to ask you them, alright. He'll be here next week, if and your therapist are involved, no matter in which way, I'm sure he'll tell you. Do you see doctor Weinberg before?"

"I'll see her the day he comes here."

"Think about if you want to talk about it with her. I'm sure she can understand your concern."

"How? Not even I can understand my concern."

"She's trained to understand, therapists have to understand everything otherwise they'll lose their job." Don grinned. "And now give me a little smile. Come on, Honey, a tiny little smile for the best looking and best working detective in L.A. and the rest of the world."

"You're smug, like your boss." Sara hugged him. She was glad he had come along to talk to her. She hadn't got a solution for her problems, but she felt better, what was worth a lot.