Oh, I love this chapter so much. I hope you all will love it too!
His therapist was a demigod, one of his Greek relatives actually, on Apollo's side (of course). And the man, Lionel Greene, would readily and repeatedly say that Mr. Alexander was making great progress. Just getting everything off his chest had seemed to help the 21 year old a lot. They'd talked for hours and hours about his troubled past. About his broken childhood and unwanted power. As well as about the exact moment his power had flickered off and the confused feelings he'd felt when it was gone. Dr. Greene had allowed Octavian to scream for an entire session solely about how much he hated his parents, and then had been able to sit down and have a civilized discussion about why their following session, where Octavian's voice didn't raise once.
On the best days Octavian could talk a solid half hour on the joys he had in his twisted life. Dr. Greene encouraged him to think through how his raccoon had brought him comfort and friendship when no one else did, and never discouraged such a sentimental attachment between man and piece of fluff. He nurtured the light in Octavian's eyes when Glaceon was brought up in passing conversation. But the best days, though not few and far between, weren't the only days. Some days Octavian could only cry as his emotional scars got touched upon, nevertheless there would always be days where he was laughing and would mention things that had always made him happy. Dr. Greene had been keeping up with it, and was determined to watch a new addition, an affection for red hair and green hair that may or may not turn into anything.
At the beginning of his sessions however there had been no semblance of happiness in the tense and tyrannical scarecrow's existence. In the first few sessions there'd been nothing but hatred and anger. Dr. Greene was used to having patients that had extreme cases of pent up anger and pain. Soon he had Octavian enrolled in anger management class that had helped many of his and his colleagues' patients. It was slow at first, but within a month there had been result, and Octavian could now discuss nearly anything with out yelling or trying to inflict harm on himself or his therapist. Now that that progress had been made, the doctor didn't have to worry about treading lightly, and had traversed nearly all of Octavian's psychological defects. He could trace the man's hurt back to four years of abuse from his father, which caused an eventually need to close himself off emotionally. And he recognized how the boy's mother had instilled the need to be praetor, creating what was perhaps one of Octavian's most unhealthy obsession, the desperate need for success and power. He'd had to coax that out of him, leaving only a healthy dose of ambition in the suffering man.
Health, too, was a concern of the doctor. They had had to work on certain areas of Mr. Alexander's lifestyle. Technically he wasn't allowed to prescribe medicines, but there was nothing against the law about advising his 21 year old patient to kill his aspirin addiction. The addiction had sprouted from a constant string of headaches from his youth and teenage years, and his dependency on them had become far too unhealthy. As they discussed it in what would be, but wasn't recognized as, Octavian's last session as a liberated man, Dr. Greene was more than impressed by his patient's progress in weening himself off of the painkiller. Octavian could also report that he had switched to decaf coffee, which seemed to do away with his extra nervous energy, just as the doctor had predicted. There was something about his patient that troubled Lionel Greene though, and he wasn't sure if he could put his finger.
"Mr. Alexander, I am no dietitian, but you do seem thinner since your last visit. Is anything troubling you?"
"No sir, I'm really happier than ever. Honest." He did seem sincere.
"Alright... Wel then, I think you've progressed enough to be let out for today. I'll see you next time and remember, if you ever feel lost, scared, or unsafe, if you ever feel yourself starting to regress, whatever you need, you can schedule me any time. I'm always here to help." He didn't know how much he had to help.
"I know sir." Octavian smiled and the therapist smiled hesitantly back. As the seemingly stable blond left Lionel Greene thought he saw a glimmer of Octavian's former, dark self in his glittering blue eyes. But the look passed in a second and Octavian was gone just as fast. Besides, the doctor had many other patients to deal with.
So when the call came from the California FBI, about a day or two later, asking about Mr. Alexander, he'd practically forgotten that look of evil. And of course he claimed patient confidentiality, what kind of doctor would he be if he hadn't. Still, he was shaken by the call. From what they said, one of his better, healthier and more stable patients was a potential murderer. He hung up, shivering a little.
"No." He murmured.
"Not him. He's made too much progress." He wanted to believe that the breakthroughs had done good instead of sowing evil. But that brief twinkle of pure madness in the man's eyes and he'd left the day before... Perhaps.
Lionel Greene did not sleep easily that night. And he would have similar trouble sleeping later, when asked to testify in court.
