Lesson 19: No one can do everything on their own.
Three years ago
Soul ignores the doctor that comes into his room, instead continuing to doodle in the notebook Wes gave him during his last visit. He doesn't recognize the doctor, so he figures he must be next in the line of shuffling therapists that have come and gone in the past week. Briefly, he wonders what it is he'll say that will get this one to exit the room and never come back, but even that vicious curiosity is buried by the overwhelming apathy that's saturated his life since the recital.
The doctor doesn't appear to take offense to his lack of greeting, closing the door behind him and drawing up a chair by his bed. From the corner of Soul's eye, he sees the doctor glance at a clipboard. "Your name is Soul?"
"It appears you can read," he says by way of answering, not looking up.
"It's just a rather odd name," replies the doctor, shrugging. "Though I'm sure it's not any indicator as to why you're here."
Soul is well-versed enough in sarcasm to know when it's being lobbed at him, and he looks at the doctor for the first time, looking for a target and finding it immediately. "Big words coming from someone whose first name is Franken and last name is Stein."
"My parents had a funny sense of humor," Stein replies. "Plus, I knew I could get you to look up by commenting on your name."
A flash of something, perhaps annoyance, whips through Soul, and he's not sure if he should continue to stare at Stein, or if he should look back down, or if that's also according to the doctor's plans. He settles for aiming a glare at his clipboard. "What do you want?"
"Just a chat," the doctor answers. "No more than ten minutes or so."
He snorts, picking up his pencil again. "I'm not that interested, doc. Just give your diagnosis and go."
Stein does neither, however, instead peering over at the drawing of the piano he's working on. "You don't draw very well."
Soul snaps the notebook shut, shoving it to the side of the bed near the wall before he realizes that's probably exactly what Stein wanted him to do. He glares at him now, getting a good look. The doctor's hair is mostly grey, even though he can't be more than in his mid-thirties; a few scars criss-cross across his face, somewhat obscured by the giant glasses he wears. "You have five minutes."
"I believe I set the rules around here, although you are welcome to make suggestions," Stein answers, adjusting his glasses. He sits back in his chair and frowns, glancing down. "I forgot this isn't my rolling chair."
"You have a rolling chair?" Soul asks the question before he can clamp his lips together.
"It's my preferred method of transportation in the hospital." He adjusts his glasses. "But after a few minor incidents, the hospital board banned me from taking my chair out of my office."
Another snort escapes from Soul, although this one is more from amusement than derision. "That's why I hated thinking about life after graduation. Adulthood is no fun."
"There are its perks," says Stein. "No one can stop you if you decide to take an impromptu road trip to Yosemite so you can climb Half Dome."
"But California is several states away."
"Exactly," Stein answers. "I can show you pictures if you don't believe me."
Soul pauses before he replies to Stein, eyeing him warily. "What do you want, doc?"
"Like I said before." Stein shrugs. "To talk. I think that could do wonders for someone in your situation."
A laugh comes from Soul, though it's dry and sardonic. "Have you read my chart? Most doctors think I need more than that."
"As you observed, I know how to read," Stein says steadily. "And while I don't disagree that medication would be helpful, I believe you need to see how the patterns of your life have brought you here and how you can get yourself out. With medication or not is besides the point."
It takes everything in him to not yell-he's not even sure where the energy to yell would have come from, when he's been so lethargic. "I beat up a random dude with a bat."
"That is true," accedes the doctor. "You had an episode of intense derealization that probably wasn't helped by the obvious depression and anxiety you're going through. It had major consequences, but it's not something you can't recover from."
He bristles. "Obvious?"
In response, Stein gestures to the unmade bed, wrappers from previous meals strewn over and between the sheets from when Soul was too lazy to clean up.
"Okay." He gives Stein that one. "So, what am I supposed to get out of talking about my feelings?"
"To get to a place where you can recognize when you are entering a spiral, and know how to get out of it, or how to ask for help," answers Stein. "And if you ever have another episode, you know you have people to rely on."
"And what's the point in that?" he asks, throwing his hands up in the air. "In any of it?"
Stein's reply is surprisingly quick. "Don't you have people you want to get back to?"
He's about to reply with a sarcastic retort when his family flashes in his vision, along with Black Star, Jackie, and Kid. It hurts most to think of Maka.
His mouth closes, and he swallows as he nods.
"Excellent." Stein pulls a pen from his lab coat's pocket, adjusting the clipboard on his lap. "Shall we begin?"
An expectant look comes on his face, and Soul realizes he's waiting for an answer.
He takes a deep breath before he answers. "Yes."