Happy All Saints Day! I don't know what this holiday is for other than re-watching the Boondock Saints.

Saturday, February 11th, 2012

Midtown, Manhattan, New York City, New York

As soon as Tony woke up that morning, he was having second thoughts. Well, not really second thoughts. Second thoughts implied that he had the option to back out. He didn't. He told everyone not to listen to him if he tried to back out and take him to the therapist's office kicking and screaming if they had to. (Steve had outright refused to let it come to that, but the looks Rhodey and Pepper exchanged told him they'd do their best to follow through with that promise, no matter how much they didn't like it.) No, Tony's thoughts were more along the lines of "please let some horrible accident befall me within the next few hours so I don't have to go." That wasn't to say he was suicidal – he figured a nice ambulance ride and a CAT scan would do the trick – but he wasn't going to actively stop any physical harm from coming to him. He just hoped the fates would be kind enough to help him out.

Seeing as breakfast went by without incident and he managed to get dressed without decapitating himself, Tony quickly concluded that the fates probably had it out for him. That wasn't surprising, but still he wished something in the universe would go his way for once. Then he remembered that he probably got that with Steve and he shouldn't be complaining. Regardless, it did nothing to quell the dread that had been growing in his stomach over the past twenty-four hours.

Rhodey had made them breakfast that morning. Steve tried to insist that he was their guest and he didn't have to do that, but Rhodey was hearing none of it, which Tony was grateful for. (Mostly because he didn't have the heart to tell his boyfriend that no, he didn't want eggs again.) Rhodey made pancakes and bacon, which was filling enough to tide them over for a few hours. After that, they just watched mindless TV until Pepper and Happy arrived to head over to the therapist's office.

The therapist's office wasn't too far away – just up and across a few blocks from the Tower – but they were going to drive there anyway, mostly because it was February and none of them felt like freezing to death on the walk over. They were, however, going to at least try to be environmentally conscious by all going in the same car. The five of them would be going into the office together, with Steve, Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy acting as moral support (and deterrence against running away at the last possible second.) Natasha, Bruce, and Clint would be staying back, but they did wish Tony good luck the night before, and Bruce even offered to have lunch ready by the time they got back. So, that was something to look forward to at least.

They took one of the SUVs rather than any of the sedans or sports cars Tony owned. It was far less conspicuous and could fit all five of them relatively comfortably. (Relatively in that Tony had to take the middle seat if he wanted to sit next to Steve, but honestly in his opinion it was a fair trade.) It took all of ten minutes to get there, but to Tony it felt like they essentially teleported. All he could remember was getting in the car, feeling squished, then getting out of the car with practically no time passing in between. It was rather alarming.

It did not end there, though. Again, it felt like they had jumped from the side of the road where they parked the car to the elevator in no time flat. Tony found himself giving Steve's hand a tight squeeze. Steve reciprocated, albeit more gently. Tony tried to feel reassured by that, but honestly anxiety was winning out.

What's wrong with me? He thought. I shouldn't feel this scared. What the hell am I so afraid of? Deep down, Tony was certain of the answer to that. However, he didn't want to consciously acknowledge it. Instead, he just clung to Steve for dear life as the elevator reached it's intended destination.

The therapist's office was directly across from the elevator, so they didn't have to go looking for it. A receptionist who looked far too chipper for someone who was being forced to work on a Saturday greeted them. Tony checked himself in and the woman handed him a stack of papers to fill out before gesturing over to where they all could take a seat until the therapist was ready.

The forum on the top of the stack was easy enough to fill out. It was the standard patient care information sheet that had to be filled out anytime someone met with a new doctor. By some miracle, Tony managed to remember all his information except for his social security number. For that, he had to text Lara. She sent it back to him along with "you know you're going to have to change it again now, right?" Tony was aware of that. Having your personal information leaked every couple of months was one of the curses of being a public figure – no matter how advanced your online security was.

After that, though, the forums became much harder to fill out. The second form started with listing his name, the current date, his date of birth, and the name of his primary care physician. There was also a box to check that asked for permission to share his information with his primary care's office, which Tony checked off just for simplicity's sake. The name of the therapist he was seeing was already filled in along with her phone number – likely done by the receptionist, which Tony was appreciative of. Thanks to that, he was able to skip down to the next question, which was where he hesitated.

What are the problem(s) for which you are seeking help?

Tony swallowed hard. Surprisingly enough, it was easy to put down "alcoholism" in the blank space provided, but that left two spaces empty. He felt like he should add something else to the list, but what exactly eluded him.

Nightmares. Tony shook his head against the thought. He didn't want to talk about the nightmares. They were bad enough to experience for himself. He didn't want to have to retell them, especially to a stranger. He noticed that his hand holding the pen had started to shake and quickly got it back under control.

I don't need to talk about it, he told himself. I don't even need to bring it up. I can just let it go and figure it out for myself. It's just the drinking I need to get a handle on. If I get that sorted out, everything else will be fine.

Despite his attempts to assure himself, doubt still sunk into his soul. He had a feeling that if he didn't write it down now, he was going to regret it. His hand moved of it's own accord and started to write the letter "n." Realizing what he was doing at once, Tony released his grip on the pen, sending it clattering to the floor.

Tony was going to bend over to pick it up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Looking back to his left, Tony's eyes met Steve's to find a worried look had completely fallen over them.

"Hey," Steve said. "Are you alright? You're shaking a bit." Tony tried taking a deep breath in to try to get a grip on himself, but it didn't seem to be working.

"I, uh," came slipping out of his mouth. "Yes…? No? I don't know." Slowly, Steve's hand started pulling him backwards.

"Why don't you lean back?" he asked. "Try to relax?" Reluctantly, Tony set the clipboard down on his lap and did as he was asked. Admittedly, the seat was quite comfortable. It was real, dark brown leather and whatever it was stuffed with was soft beyond compare. It would be hard not to relax into that couch. The material even smelled calming.

Tony took a couple more calming breaths, each one coming easier than the last. Feeling safe enough to open his eyes, he saw that Steve had lain back as well, the tips of his fingers brushing gently against the back of Tony's hand.

"That better?" Tony nodded.

"A bit." Glancing to his right, Tony saw that Rhodey had picked the pen up off the floor. Leaning forward, Tony took the item back from his friend with a soft "thank you" before relaxing into the cushions again. At the same time, he slipped his left hand into Steve's right.

"What was wrong?" Rhodey asked. Tony shrugged.

"I was just filling out the forums," he explained. "Just got upset over nothing." Rhodey shook his head.

"Yeah, I don't buy that," he said. "You don't just get upset over nothing. What is it?" Tony frowned.

"It's stupid," he grumbled, prompting Steve to take a tighter hold of his hand. "The forum just asked what I'm seeking help for. It's fine."

"Did you write anything down?" Tony looked to his left, past Steve to see concern marring Pepper's face.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony assured. "I put down the drinking. Don't worry." Pepper nodded, relieved.

"Then what's the problem?" Rhodey asked. Tony sucked in the corner of his mouth.

"I just wasn't sure if I should list anything else…"

"Like what?" Although it was Rhodey who asked the question, Tony found himself looking at Steve. He already knew, so Tony wouldn't have to witness the surprise coming to his eyes.

"The nightmares."

A beat of silence passed. Tony squeezed his eyes shut as if that would protect him from their pity. He could feel Steve softly rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

"You've been having nightmares?" Pepper was the first one to speak, to no one's surprise. "Why didn't you say anything?" Tony opened his eyes but directed his gaze to the ceiling.

"I don't know," was his automatic response. Tony winced as he gave it, knowing that wouldn't cut it. "It's hard," was the next best answer he could provide. "It's not something that I want to talk about. Not really." Tony lowered his eyes back down to Pepper in time to catch her understanding nod.

"I get that," she said. "I just wish you had said something about it before. Then we could've…"

"Pepper." Happy's tone was more cautious than disapproving, clearly not wanting to push anyone in a direction that would make them upset. Pepper brushed some hair out of her face as she took a breath.

"Sorry," she offered softly.

"It's okay," Tony assured.

"Did you write it down, though?" Steve gently asked. Tony shook his head.

"I tried," he explained. "I don't know what happened. I just… Couldn't." That was the best way to describe what had happened in that moment. It felt like he couldn't do anything no matter how hard he tried. There was probably a proper word for that, but Tony didn't want to tax his brain trying to think of it right then.

His eyes then drifted back over to Rhodey. There was a look of deep consideration on his friend's face that disappeared as soon as they made eye contact, being replaced by a form of resolve.

"Alright," he said. "Why don't you pass it over here?" Tony furrowed his brow.

"What?"

"Pass it over here," Rhodey insisted. "That way you can just tell me the answers and I can write them down."

"Is that even allowed?" Rhodey gave him an incredulous look.

"It's a patient intake forum," he said. "Not a standardized test." Yeah, Tony could see how ridiculous that question was. Conceding, Tony handed the clipboard over to Rhodey along with the pen he'd been twirling absentmindedly.

"Alright," he said. "But if anything needs to be signed, hand it back to me because I know you can't forge my signature."

"You mean your autograph?" Rhodey teased as the took the clipboard. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Just because my handwriting has a bit more flare than yours…"

"Tones, it takes up half the page every God damn time," Rhodey pointed out.

"Like I said, flare." Rhodey shook his head.

"Unbelievable," he remarked as he jotted something down on the page. Tony undoubtably knew it was the word "nightmares." With that knowledge in mind, he swallowed down his trepidation and kept the mood light.

"You're just jealous," Rhodey scoffed at the thought.

"I'm jealous of your penmanship? I don't think so."

"You don't have to deny it, honey bear," Tony said. "Admission is the first step to acceptance."

"It sounds like I'm not the one who needs to be more accepting."

"Whatever," Tony said with a shake of his head and a slight smirk. "Forever live in the safety of denial land. Just know that I'll miss you dearly.

"And I'll probably only think of you occasionally." Tony feigned hurt.

"Yes, rip my heart out," he said. "That's exactly what I need right now."

"Glad I could do my part." Tony wished he had a pillow or something he could throw at Rhodey. "Now is there anything else you want to go on this paper?"

Again, Tony found himself hesitating. At first, he didn't think that there was anything else he needed to add, but then he thought of what the nightmares were about. That was… He honestly couldn't even think of what words he could use to explain it. He new after the… Incident… Something hadn't been right. He told Steve and the medical staff as much that day. He was adamant that something was wrong with him, even when everyone assured him there was nothing physically wrong with him.

Physically, the word bounced and warped in Tony's brain like a gelatinous ball. Maybe there was nothing physically wrong with me, but maybe it was something mentally. The idea caused Tony's stomach to flip and churn in ways he never thought possible. The shaking sensation started taking over his body once again, and his chest felt like someone was trying to stab a hole in his heart with a dull pencil. Steve took notice right away and sat up a bit more, gently placing his empty hand over Tony's heart, like he was trying to make sure it was still beating.

"Hey," he started to say. "What's…"

"The Incident." Steve just blinked at him in confusion.

"The what?" Tony shook his head. It was hard enough to blurt out the first time. He wasn't going to say it again.

"I think he said the Incident," Happy supplied, giving Tony some relief.

"Yeah, I heard," Steve said. "But I don't know what that is."

"It's how people around here have been referring to the alien invasion," Pepper explained. "Outside of here they just call it 'New York' or 'the Battle of New York.' In the city, though, they call it 'the Incident.'" To Tony's surprise, he saw Steve's face pale a tiny bit as soon as Pepper said the words "alien invasion" and it made him feel reassured and awful at the same time.

"Oh…" he said. "Yeah, that should… Yeah…" With that, Steve leaned back into the couch cushions again, vaguely distressed. Tony squeezed Steve's hand in hopes of giving back all of the support and comfort he had already gotten. The corners of Steve's mouth did twitch upwards momentarily, which did serve to help him.

"I've got it down," Rhodey assured. "Don't worry." Tony didn't, as knowing he wouldn't have to repeat himself helped a lot as well. "Now, what goals do you hope to accomplish through attending these sessions?" Tony then frowned, but not because he had a problem with the question.

"To get better," he said. "Isn't that the whole point?" The blank stares that he received in response told him otherwise.

"Well, yes," Pepper responded. "But that might be a gross oversimplification of it."

"It's not gross," Tony said. "It's just… It's what I've been focusing on the entire time. I honestly don't know what other goals I can have." He looked down at his lap, the pattern woven into his jeans suddenly became very interesting.

"Alright," Rhodey said. "Well, I'm not going to put words in your mouth, so why don't we just put down 'TBD.'"

"Yeah," Tony remarked, digging one of his finger nails into the grooves of the denim. "TBD sounds good."

After agreeing upon that, the next section of the forum was a symptoms checklist. That was easy enough as Tony only had to answer yes or no. He kept his own self-assessments and the observations of others in mind as he answered each one. He didn't think he was feeling depression, loss of interest, or any inability to feel enjoyment from normally pleasurable things, and he could give a hard no to things like "crying spells," "hallucinations," "suspiciousness," and especially "decreased libido." Other things, though, he knew he couldn't say no to.

Sleep pattern disturbance; concentration difficulties; fatigue; racing thoughts; impulsivity; an increase in risk taking behavior; a decreased need for sleep; excessive energy; increased irritability; excessive worry; all of which were things Tony knew as soon as they were said aloud that he had to say yes to. There were other things he honestly debated the answers to. After all, he knew he spent a lot of time having dirty thoughts about Steve, but he honestly didn't know if that was a symptom or if it was just because he desperately wanted to have sex with his new boyfriend. In the end he said yes, simply just to have his bases covered. He could ask the doctor about it later.

After that, the second page was filled out and Rhodey turned to the third. Tony was just relieved they were making headway. He wasn't sure how much time the therapist would allow them before he had to really start his session and it would probably be better to have the forums done before then.

The third page consisted of more medical information, most of which Rhodey already knew so he didn't have to ask for too many things. Just Tony's current weight, medications he was taking, and when the last time he had an EKG was. Page four and the first half of page five listed a series of anti-psychotic medications and asked whether he had ever been prescribed them. They were able to skip over that with a big "N/A." That led them to the second half of page five, which inquired about the history of mental illness in his family.

As far as Tony knew, no mental illness ran on either side of his family. Both Howard and Maria had been only children and his grandparents on both sides had died by the time he'd been born. His only extended family member had been Peggy, but that had been an honorary title. They held no real blood relation. As a result, he had no real gene pool to pull from and only speculation to fill in the gaps. Again, Tony wanted to put down "N/A," but Steve and Pepper had talked him into checking off alcohol abuse. Howard may have never sought help for his issues, but ultimately it had been irresponsible drinking that had claimed the lives of him and his wife, which came as a close enough diagnosis for them. Tony had to admit they had a point and let Rhodey check that option off. The only other option Tony had considered fitting was "violence," but he didn't want to try to open that can of worms – especially when he had no proof. As a result, he thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie and answer no to that one.

They were about to move on to the next page when a door opened across the room. Through it stepped a professionally dressed woman in her mid-forties with graying brown hair and a smile that seemed earnestly warm. Tony knew then that time was up.

"Hello," she said as her eyes landed on Tony. "You're Mr. Stark, correct?"

"Usually," he said with a shrug. The doctor's smile didn't waver as she approached with an extended hand.

"Dr. Rachael Cranston," she introduced. "It's wonderful to meet you."

"You too," Tony managed to force out of his mouth out of sheer politeness. He sat up further on the couch but didn't fully stand to take her hand. Some part deep down inside of him secretly hoped that if he didn't get up off the couch, he wouldn't have to go through with the appointment. It was an incredibly childish thought, but Tony couldn't help it. He got little solace from the gentle squeeze Steve gave his other hand, but not enough to completely calm his nerves. He appreciated it, nonetheless. After that, Dr. Cranston went around and introduced herself to the rest of the group before turning back to Tony.

"Did you complete the intake forums?" Tony's eyes went right to Rhodey.

"Uh…" Tony held out hope that they had completed the last of it. Unfortunately, Rhodey shook his head. "No, I did not."

"That's fine," Dr. Cranston assured. "You can finish it up afterwards."

Damn. For a moment, Tony had hoped that he wouldn't be allowed to start the session until he had completed the forum, but apparently that wasn't the case. His disappointment must have been clear on his face because he felt Steve rub his thumb across his knuckles again.

"So, I'm sorry to say that this was an intended to be a solo appointment between me and Mr. Stark," Dr. Cranston explained. "At least, that's what I was told over the phone…"

"And you would be right," Pepper assured. "We just came to show Tony our support." Dr. Cranston's smile seemed to grow brighter.

"Well, that's very sweet of you all," she said. "I understand first appointments can be a little nerve-wracking…" Tony really had to fight the urge to laugh at that complete understatement. "…So, having people willing to stand by and show support is always good." The sincerity of her words caught Tony's attention. When he looked up, he saw nothing but kindness in the doctor's eyes and he felt his tense shoulders relax a little.

"Well, we're glad to provide it." Rhodey was looking at Tony as he said that and for a moment, he was able to return the smile his friend gave him.

"Glad to hear that," Dr. Cranston commented. "So, Mr. Stark, if you're ready, why don't we head into my office?"

Tony's eyes went right to Steve's as hesitation built up in his chest. Even though he could see deep down that his own worries were reflected at him, Steve put on a brave face and smiled. One last time, he gave Tony's hand a gentle squeeze.

"Go ahead," he said softly. "We'll all be waiting for you when you're ready. I promise." For a second, Tony's lips quirked upwards.

"Okay," he said. "I'll see you in an hour." Steve nodded in agreement.

"One hour."

Tony found it in himself to stand up, but he didn't let go of Steve's hand until he had to. After taking a couple of steps forward towards Dr. Cranston, their fingers broke apart and Tony sorely felt their absence. If Cranston noticed their closeness, she didn't comment on it; just continued to smile and nodded towards the door.

"Right this way." Dr. Cranston walked in that direction and Tony followed her. He took one last look behind him at the people who had come to support him. Happy gave him a thumbs up. Pepper gave him another reassuring smile. Rhodey nodded, sending the message of "it's okay." Steve, meanwhile, still looked like he was putting on a brave face. Tony smiled for him one last time before stepping into Cranston's office.

Once inside, Dr. Cranston shut the door behind him, and Tony paused for a moment to get a look at the place. The atmosphere was the epitome of calm with its cool earth tones and the various plants dotted around the room providing natural, fresh, clean air. The wall opposite the door was made up entirely of bookshelves, containing volume upon volume of medical and psychiatric manuals. A desk sat perpendicular to the bookshelves that was neatly put together but held all the tell-tale signs of well-use like coffee mug rings and worn edges.

In the center of the room, a pair of chairs were set up to face each other. Both chairs were the color of coffee cream, and both had a small table to their right. Dr. Cranston walked past Tony and over to the furthest chair.

"Sit down," she said as she did so herself. "Make yourself comfortable." Tony just raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"You don't have one of those fainting chairs?" Dr. Cranston's face scrunched in confusion.

"Fainting chairs?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "Like in TV and movies and all that crap. The thing that the person lies down on while they talk to the therapist…"

"Oh!" Dr. Cranston said as realization clicked together. "You mean a chaise lounge?"

"I think so?"

"Well, I don't have one here, but I do have one at home," Dr. Cranston explained.

"Should I take that to mean you bring your work home with you?" To Tony's surprise, the doctor laughed.

"No, nothing like that," she assured. "My sister actually bought it for me one Christmas as a joke. I'd bring it in, but it's only about one foot in size and meant to be a bed for a cat." Cranston laughed again, but eventually she waved herself off and gestured to the empty chair in front of her.

"Sit, sit. I promise I don't bite."

Tony honestly found himself doubting that but managed to push his own irrationalities and sat down as instructed. The chair wasn't as comfortable as the couch out in the waiting room, but it was noticeably softer than he was expecting. Across from him, Dr. Cranston took on a relaxed pose as she began to speak.

"So, Mr. Stark," she said. "What brings you into my office today?"

"I already told you over the phone." He was hoping he could skip the part where he had to grovel about what was wrong with him and just get to the part where she told him what he could do to fix it, but apparently Dr. Cranston wasn't going to play it that way.

"I know," she said. "And I have it noted down in your file, but I want to hear it from you live, face to face." Tony looked down and shrugged, trying to force the proper words to explain out of his mouth.

"I, uh… No?" Well, that failed miserably. Dr. Cranston gave him a curious look.

"No?" she questioned.

"No." Tony figured he might as well stick by that assertion. He'd already inadvertently dug a hole for himself. It was probably best to try and die in it.

"Alright then," Dr. Cranston said. "We don't have to dive right into it. We can take it slow." Tony raised an eyebrow at her phrasing but didn't say anything. "Don't worry. Like I said, first visits can be nerve-wracking. Talking to a stranger about everything that's bothering you is incredibly daunting. Would it help if maybe I told you a little about myself first?" Tony frowned.

"Why?" Dr. Cranston shrugged.

"Sometimes patients feel better knowing a bit more about me before we get started," she explained. "Do you think that would help you?" Honestly, Tony didn't, but the more time she spent talking about herself, the less time he would have to spend doing the same. So, he shrugged.

"I guess it's worth a shot." Dr. Cranston gave him another warm smile.

"Excellent," she said. "Now where to start? I guess I'll go with the basics. I was born in Indiana and I'm the oldest of six siblings. My sister is the youngest and there are four boys between us, so you can imagine the chaos that house was growing up. Let's see… I went to the University of Pennsylvania for my undergrad and Yale for my doctorate. I met my husband twenty-five years ago and we'll be celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary in May. We have one fifteen-year-old son and we live on Long Island. My husband is a former Naval engineer and currently works as a head designer for a ship building company headquartered in Queens. We live a relatively quiet and peaceful life for the most part." She seemed to be content, which caused Tony to frown.

"Why did you agree to this, then?" For the first time, Dr. Cranston's face fell.

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean it sounds like you have a nice life," Tony explained. "Why agree to help me when you know who I am and the kind of attention I attract."

"And what kind of attention would that be?" Tony legitimately found himself questioning her intelligence.

"The kind that ruins nice lives." Slowly, Dr. Cranston nodded, but Tony had to wonder if she really understood what he was saying.

"Well, I can assure you that anything you tell me stays within this room – unless I believe you're going to take drastic action against yourself or others." Tony let out a pained sigh.

"You don't get it." To his surprise, Dr. Cranston's face was quirked with more curiosity than annoyance.

"Then explain it to me," she instructed in a gentle, yet firm voice. "Help me understand." Tony hesitated a moment before reluctantly giving in.

"I don't have a private life," Tony explained. "Not really. The press follows me everywhere I go. I wouldn't be surprised if they were waiting outside the building right at this very moment for me to come out just so they could get their headlines and cover photos."

"Are you worried that they are going to be insensitive about you seeking help?" Dr. Cranston asked. "Because I assure you, there's nothing wrong with seeking help if you need it."

"Thanks?" Tony wasn't sure what else to say. "But that wasn't my point."

"Okay," Dr. Cranston said. "What was your point, then?"

"That they're not going to leave you alone."

"Oh. I wouldn't be concerned about that." If the doctor spontaneously grew a second head, Tony would be less surprised.

"You should." Dr. Cranston shook her head.

"I've had high-profile patients before, Mr. Stark," she assured. "I've never had a problem with the press; not even once."

"Yeah, but you've never had me before," Tony pointed out. "You don't understand what you've gotten into. I mean, I'm Tony Stark. Iron Man. Everything I do is scrutinized to the nth degree. Every association I make is public knowledge. Every woman I'm seen with, I'm suddenly in a relationship with. I've had people follow me into the bathroom to get my autograph, long before I could even sign my name. That's the kind of magnifying glass I live under and by taking me on as a patient, you've exposed yourself to that. Doesn't that bother you?"

"No." Tony just blinked in confusion. "I haven't done anything wrong. Why should I worry about what the press has to say about me?"

"Because it could ruin your career," Tony pointed out. "Your marriage, your family…"

"Only if I let it," Dr. Cranston stated. "And I don't plan to." Tony had to scoff at that.

"I hate to break it to you," Tony said. "But no matter how much you try and how much you plan, it's not going to keep you safe. These people are merciless. They know how to ruin lives." Dr. Cranston tilted her head to the side.

"Is that how you feel?" she asked. "Like your lack of privacy is endangering you?" Realization hit Tony in the face like a frying pan.

"I walked right into that one, didn't I?" The smile Dr. Cranston gave him was more bittersweet.

"Yes," she admitted. "Though it wasn't my intent to trick you. I just want you to feel safe discussing your emotions with me."

"Well, it almost worked," Tony remarked.

"Almost?" Tony looked down. "Can I ask you a question, Mr. Stark?"

"Why not?"

"Why did you come here if you're so avoidant about taking about your emotions?" A look of alarm came across his face, because she quickly backtracked. "I don't mean to accuse you of anything or discourage you from seeking help. I just want to know what this roadblock is so we can overcome it together." Tony hesitated. He didn't want to bear his soul to her, but he couldn't leave the question unanswered. So, he took a deep breath.

"I want help," he admitted. I do, it's just… There's stuff I don't want to talk about."

"Okay," Dr. Cranston said, completely non-pulsed. "Then we won't talk about it." Tony's face scrunched in confusion.

"What?"

"We aren't going to discuss anything that you're not comfortable to," she assured. "This is a safe space and we'll only discuss what you're ready to when you're ready to do it." That explanation did nothing to lessen Tony's confusion.

"That's not how this is supposed to work," Tony said before he could think better of it, causing Dr. Cranston to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh?" she said. "How is this supposed to work?" Her tone remained curious rather than indignant, and because of that, Tony was willing to answer the question.

"Aren't you supposed to be digging for my personal issues?" he asked. "Force me to talk about my 'daddy issues,' how I wasn't hugged enough as a child, and somehow twist it all into Gein-like desire to fuck my own mother?"

Dr. Cranston let out a snort and Tony narrowed his eyes at her.

"Sorry, sorry," she said hastily. "But that has to be the most stereotypical, misguided view of therapy I've ever heard in my life. I swear, I'm laughing at the idea, not you."

Tony could hear genuine remorse in her tone, but still didn't let his guard down. Dr. Cranston took a sip from a water bottle she kept on her side table and collected herself. Pushing her hair back, she looked Tony right in the eye.

"Listen, I don't know where you got that idea psychiatry, but that's not how we're going to be doing things here." Dr. Cranston's voice was firm, yet still somehow gentle. "When I say that this is a safe space, I mean it. We don't talk about what you don't want to talk about. That would be detrimental to your recovery process. You're in charge here, and what you don't feel comfortable talking about, we won't talk about. Although, I would appreciate it if you told me now whether or not you have a desire to kill women for their skin." Alright, that got Tony to smile for a moment.

"No," he assured. "Nothing like that."

"Good," Dr. Cranston returned the smile. "I promise you, you are safe here, and I am safe from any attempt from anyone to try to wiggle their way into your private life by getting to me. My husband's former Navy, my brothers are all Marines, and my sister works for the Secret Service. Out of all licensed therapists on the island of Manhattan, I'm probably the safest. You have nothing to worry about. Do you understand?" Tony nodded.

"I do."

"Good," Dr. Cranston said. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, why don't we try starting over again?" She readjusted her position and smiled before saying "hello, Mr. Stark. What brings you into my office today?"

Remember kids, only one chapter left!

Originally posted to FFN on 11/1/22