Allie- Yikes...I can definitely sympathize with you...I've had perfect
reviews typed up when my computer spazzes to. It's not a pretty sight.
*winces* Yeah...bad memories...*Charlie and Pacey grin at Davey's apology*
Hehehe, now I wanna know what Davey and Fulty refused to say! Lol...it's
gonna bug me...Aww, bad boys! Leaving Allie all lone without her minions!
Bad! *sends Charlie and Pacey after them* Hehehe...*Charlie comes back and
"hmphs," claiming he doesn't need therapy* Now, Charlie...*he loudly
declares that he is not a psycho, so everybody needs to just leave him
alone; it's all in the script!* Charlie...*twitch* I love you dearly, but
try not to be so loud. Here, have a cookie. *hands Charlie a cookie*...*he
forgets his anger and munches on cookie happily; he ignores the voice's
advice because he only listens to the voices in his own head*...Yay! You
liked my metaphor! Lol...^_^ *Charlie growls at Allie and rubs his
head*...*whacks Charlie lightly upside the head* Stop growling at Allie!
*Charlie pouts and mutters something under breath*...*Pacey snickers, and
Charlie whacks Pacey, thus starting a mini-brawl*...*sighs* What am I going
to do with those two? *winks* Glad you liked your new title! Lol...shiny
things make me smile. Lol...I hope you enjoy the chapter.
French Chipmunk- Lol...I'll consider it. ^_~ I just don't know how to give a hint without ruining anything...The only non-giving-away hint I can think of it that it doesn't get better any time soon...lol...I'm bad at this game. o.O Anyway, thanks bunches for the review, and I hope you find this chapter suitable! ^_~
Nebula- Hehehe...So I'm not convincing you that Charlie isn't crazy? *Charlie mutters something under his breath about psycho authors and their psycho, twisted little minds dragging him into it all* Shush, Charlie! *clears throat* Aw, you didn't like my metaphor? Lol...I will admit it was kinda out there. ^_~ I'm not exactly WHERE it came from. Heeheehee...Me? Crazy? Nah...lol...*grins* Yes! I would feel mucho better with feedback on my poems. Lol...Nope, Gordon isn't all that great at Charlie-proofing the house. I'm getting the distinct feeling that convincing you of Charlie's lack of craziness will be difficult. ^_^ Can't imagine why...lol...
Banksiesbabe99- Yay! Another person who liked my metaphor! Lol...took a lot of brainpower, ya know...lol...I'm so glad you thought it fit him well. *grins* I'm glad you aren't totally hating Charlie *cough* Nebula *cough*...lol...Yeah. ^_^ It's all George's fault! Bah! I say we find something inhumane to do to him once the story is over...lol...It would be a nice farewell celebration. ^_^ Not that the ending is ANYWHERE near...Just something to look forward to. ^_^ Enjoy the chapter!
Brnnttebabe12- Lol...Charlie doesn't listen well. He kind of missed the 'stay away from the sharp pointies' thing...lol...*Charlie pouts because he doesn't get chocolate* Heehee...Yes, Julie is being good. Good Julie! *Julie grins, and Charlie pouts at the lack of love* Aw, Charlie....we love you too! *huggles Charlie* I hope you like the chapter.
Rachel- Yep...almost a year. It's scary...lol...Dedicated and obsessed would be the reason...lol. I agree that writing is a fun chance to live vivaciously through fictional characters...lol...Hehehe, yes...Poor backpack. So abused. And Charlie's a wee-bit stubborn/dense...He doesn't quite understand the problem...lol...rah for Everwood! Lol...I've never actually seen One Tree Hill...It looked good, but I was always too busy. I like Ephram/Madison as well as Ephram/Amy...I'm pretty easy to please when it come to Eph pairings...lol...Oh, Bright and Laynie? I hadn't even thought of that...lol...Coolness. Thanks for the sweet review, and I hope you like the chapter!
MDSWitter26- I'm glad you liked the chapters. ^_^ It's not a problem that you didn't review; life happens. Lol...I'm happy that you thought I got the Ducks' emotions down...It's encouraging. ^_^ I'm glad you like the Charlie/Julie-ness! Lol...Enjoy the chapter, and thanks so much for reviewing! ^_~
Katie- Lol...I'm glad you got that out of your system. ^_^ I can assure you there will be no Charlie withdraw symptoms on my watch. ^_~ Lol...No, Bombay's just weird about where he keeps his sharp pointies...lol...He's never had to Charlie-proof a house before. ^_~
Hotashell99- Yay! You liked my metaphor TOO! Lol...I hope you like the chapter. ^_^
Angel Spirit- *shrugs* Nah, grammar isn't that important in writing...lol...^_^ Grammar is over-rated. Lol...I'm actually in Pre-AP English, I just choose to use bad grammar occasionally...It makes me feel better and takes care of that rebellious streak. ^_~ I'm too much of a wimp to do anything else. Lol. Yay! Bye bye George! *breaks out into song*...*clears throat* Yeah...Well, I hope you had fun eating. ^_^ Lol...food is good...*nods*
Sarah- *nods* Charlie is being naughty...Oh well...thanks for the review, and enjoy the chapter! ^_~
Disclaimer- I don't own The Mighty Ducks.
-Chapter 52-
Charlie was jerked awake by a searing light burning at his eyes.
He groaned and covered his head with the blankets, muttering something incoherent and most likely not very nice under his breath.
"Rise and shine, Charlie. Time to get up," Gordon said with minimal enthusiasm, walking away from the curtains he had just opened.
"Go away..." Charlie mumbled groggily, sounding not-at-all chipper. "Do the words 'sleep' and 'summer' mean anything to you?" he asked with irritation, still hiding under the comfort of his covers.
"As sure as I am that you would love to sleep in, you can't. Besides, it's already one. I'd say you've had enough sleep for today. You have an appointment with Dr. Shylo at one-thirty and you need to be ready in," Gordon started before looking at his watch. "fifteen minutes, not including breakfast...err...lunch."
"I'm not hungry...let me sleep..." Charlie mumbled almost incoherently before rolling over again and burying his face under the pillow as well as the sheets and blankets on his bed.
Gordon let out a sigh and crossed his arms. "Charlie...you need to get up. If we don't hurry, you'll be late for the appointment. So up and at'm," the man said before pulling the covers off of Charlie's ruffled head.
Charlie curled up and covered his head with his arms. "Go...away..."
Letting out a sigh, Gordon left the room, securely shutting the door behind himself.
A few moments after Gordon had left the room, Charlie let out a whimper as he grabbed the covers again and clutched them more tightly over his head.
Rolling off the bed still wrapped snugly in blankets and landing with a solid thud, Charlie slowly peeked a single eye open. He felt the semi-rough texture of the carpet against his face and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.
The boy crawled sleepily out of the warm covers and dragged himself over to his closet.
He muttered incoherent grumbles under his breath as he rubbed his eyes and grabbed random clothes from the closet. A long-sleeved black tee-shirt, a black and red plaid flannel shirt, and a pair of jeans.
In a drowsy trance, Charlie changed and stumbled out of his room, putting his black Converse over his sock-clad feet.
When the boy reached the bottom of the stairs, Bombay looked up curiously at the teenager.
"You ready?" Gordon asked, quirking an eyebrow skeptically.
The man simply got an agitated grumble and a half-asleep glare in return. Gordon had known waking Charlie up wouldn't be a pleasant event, but it had gone fairly well in comparison to what he had expected.
"Good to know you're so bright and chipper directly after being woken up," Gordon said with only a hint of sarcasm. "I'm beginning to feel sorry for Dr. Shylo."
Charlie sat in a kitchen chair and blinked at Gordon, his eyes still half- closed. "Who's Dr. Shylo?" he asked, his voice raspy from sleep.
"Your therapist," Gordon answered simply, taking a drink from the cup in his hand.
"Ah, okay..." Charlie said with a glazed-over expression.
Just as relief was settling on Gordon Bombay's face, a spark of realization crossed Charlie's features.
"You don't mean that shrink that you AREN'T making me go to, right?" Charlie asked, his eyes focusing.
Gordon gave the boy a tight smile. "You're very right," he said.
Charlie's face lightened slightly, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Alright then. That's good. I was worried there for a second that you were REALLY gonna make me go to a shrink..."
Gordon's face grimmed slightly, and he raised his eyebrows with something that could almost be classified as amusement. "Ah, no. I don't think you're understanding me," Gordon started. "You are going to a shrink...er, psychiatrist, and Dr. Shylo is it."
The teen stared blankly forward. After it sunk in, his eyes narrowed. "WHAT?!" he exclaimed. "But you just said-!"
Gordon held up his hands. "-I said that you aren't going to the shrink that I'm NOT making you go to. But since I am making you go, it doesn't apply."
"THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Charlie said, glaring hotly.
"Life isn't fair. But why are you so against going to see a psychiatrist anyway? It's a very helpful experience," Gordon said, standing up to wash out his cup and put it in the dishwasher.
"Hm, maybe because SHRINKS are for CRAZY PEOPLE, and I'm not crazy!" Charlie snapped defensively.
"Now, now, Charlie. Shrinks, er, therapy sessions aren't always necessarily for 'crazy people.' Sometimes it's just good to release your feelings and have someone talk through your problems and figure out a way to fix them."
Charlie gave him a look like he was from another planet. "Whatever...I'm thinking you might need some time with a shrink yourself...but while on that subject, I don't need to go to a shrink. I. Don't. Have. Any. Problems. End of discussion. Now I'm going back to sleep."
"Charlie, you don't have the authority to end discussions so you sit your butt back in the chair and eat breakfast, errr, LUNCH so we can leave." Gordon said with frustration as gripped his hair. Charlie turned back around from where he had stood up to go back upstairs and sleep.
"I'm not HUNGRY!" Charlie barked with a snarl.
"Then maybe we can leave now and get there early, or maybe even just on time. Car. Now," Gordon said firmly.
"No. I'm not going," The teen said rebelliously, crossing his arms across his chest. The sling was finally gone, and it greatly improved the simplicity and convenience of crossing one's arms.
"Yes, Charlie, you ARE going," Bombay said with finality.
"No, I'm not," Charlie replied with defiance, raising his eyebrows tauntingly.
"Yes, you are," Gordon replied.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes."
"No."
"Charlie, get in the car now."
"No."
"Charlie..." Gordon said warningly.
"No, you can't make me go," Charlie said with a hard glare and closed-off body language. By this point they were standing out in the front lawn, arguing on the door step.
"Charlie, just get in the car, okay? Make this simple and get in the car. You don't have to like the psychiatrist or the session, but you are going," Gordon said with unrelenting firmness.
"I'm not going, okay? I'm. Not. Going. I refuse," the stubborn teen said.
Taking Charlie gently by the shoulders, Gordon began guiding the teen to the car door.
Charlie whipped around and clutched at the doorknob. "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO!"
Gordon sighed and rubbed his temples. "Do you realize how unbelievably immature you're being? Just get in the car so we can leave," Gordon said with mounting frustration.
"NO!" Charlie yelled as he gripped the doorknob with a vice-like death grip.
"CHARLIE! Get in the car!"
When another 'no,' was said, Gordon wrapped an arm around Charlie's waist and dragged him to the car, literally kicking and screaming.
~~~*~~~
Charlie sat in the car with a hardened expression, but at least he wasn't screaming anymore.
The car pulled to a stop, and Gordon pulled the key out and looked over at Charlie. "We're here," he stated simply.
Instead of replying with 'I realized that,' like he was tempted to, he opted for the cold shoulder. Climbing out of the car in silence, he stood beside the car with an angry and agitated expression.
When Gordon started walking toward the building, Charlie followed in semi- submissive silence.
They approached the desk, and Gordon found out which room Dr. Shylo was in. He led Charlie to the room and let out a sigh. Charlie was most likely beyond angry with him...but it had to be done. He couldn't allow himself to lose Charlie, even if the teen hated him for it.
"I'll come pick you up in an hour," Bombay said softly.
Charlie nodded coldly and refused to look at him.
With another sigh, Gordon walked away to leave Charlie alone at the door of the office. He watched from afar to make sure Charlie did actually go in, and luckily he did.
~~~*~~~
Charlie creaked the door open and was greeted by a large, plain room sparsely furnished with a couch, a chair, and a desk. A middle-aged man with glasses and thinning hair sat behind the desk, staring at him as he walked in.
Feeling profusely uncomfortable, Charlie stepped in and closed the door behind himself.
"C'mon, Charlie. Sit down," the man said, watching Charlie's every move. It was really freaking him out.
"Um...right," he said, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the couch.
Instead of immediately asking questions, Dr. Shylo sat with his hands folded on his desk, observing Charlie.
Charlie could feel himself being watched, and he cleared his throat once and began fidgeting. He wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do, and he felt like he was some lab rat being observed in that little cage they stick them in.
When Charlie couldn't stand it anymore, he shot an irritated and ruffled look at the 'shrink.' "What the heck are you LOOKING at?!" he snapped.
The psychiatrist scribbled something down on a notepad and looked back up at Charlie, which made the teen even more nervous.
"I'm simply observing you. Watching your body language; it might surprise you how much the way a person moves and acts says about them," the man said, moving his glasses slightly farther up the bridge of his nose.
Charlie's subconsciously tensed, and the room hushed again. The psychiatrist continued jotting things down on the paper, which was increasing rattling Charlie's nerves.
"What are you writing?" he asked with an edge to his voice.
The middle-aged man looked up at him through the rims of his glasses. "That's confidential, Charlie."
"But it's about me, right? Don't I have some right to know?" the boy questioned.
"No," was the reply he received.
Charlie frowned and let out a frustrated groan, leaning back on the couch. The older man would periodically look up and watch Charlie's every little movement, then he would proceed to write it down.
"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to stop 'observing' me. It's really creeping me out," Charlie said flatly.
"I'm afraid I can't do that. But I think it's time we start talking. Though I'm sure we will have more than enough sessions following to discuss everything, I figure we should go ahead and start. What's bothering you?" the therapist asked, leaning forward and staring at Charlie.
The boy blinked at him a few times and gazed longingly at the door. When he looked back at the intimidating man, his face hardened and he took to glaring again.
"Nothing is bothering me," Charlie said, looking like a bird whose feathers had just been ruffled.
The shrink nodded and said 'ahhh,' before writing something down and looking back at Charlie. "And that is why you're so defensive and edgy about said problem?" the elder man questioned.
"I have no problem," Charlie replied in a deadpan voice.
"Then why are you here?" the psychiatrist asked with raised eyebrows.
Charlie shrugged and continued glaring daggers at his 'therapist.'
"Because I was forced to...and I don't understand why, because there is nothing wrong with me. I'm perfectly fine, but every time I say that everyone FREAKS out and insists I get therapy," Charlie said.
"I see..." the man said and wrote something down. "And how does this make you feel?"
Charlie sat there, blankly staring at him. After blinking a few times, he...continued staring blankly at him.
"I have a good idea..." Charlie said after a few minutes of silence.
"What is this wonderful idea of yours?" the therapist asked to humor him.
"I say that we don't talk to each other, you don't write anything down, and we just sit here. You say that I was good and stuff, and you don't even have to do anything. You still get paid, and I don't have to put up with this. Isn't it a great plan?" Charlie asked, coming to the conclusion that it was a brilliant idea.
"And what exactly do I say when you're picked up?" he asked, referring to Bombay.
Charlie shrugged. "Tell him it's shrink-patient confidentiality. He'll buy it," the boy said, nodding. "Just tell him I was cooperative, and maybe it'll satisfy him; he might even banish the horrid thought that I even need this. Which I don't."
Before the psychiatrist could reply, Charlie continued. "Besides, how could he not buy it? I mean for crying out loud, if *I* can't see that freakin' paper, why should he get to?!"
The man let out a sigh and shook his head. "No matter how hard you try, you aren't going to persuade me to stop asking you questions. It's my job. It's what I do."
"Come ON! If you stop the Spanish Inquisition, I promise I'll sit in the corner the WHOLE time, and I'll be good!" Charlie nearly pleaded, still hanging onto a ray of hope that he might get out of it.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Dr. Shylo said.
"Why the freakin' heck NOT?!" Charlie asked angrily.
"I'm a psychiatrist. I ask question, you answer question. If Mr. Bombay feels you need this, maybe you do. It never hurt anyone; it only helps. But you are going to have to COOPERATE for it to work properly," the man said.
Charlie's face hardened, and he let out a frustrated growl. "THIS IS SO STUPID!"
Dr. Shylo simply sat there with his hands folded on the desk and watched Charlie carefully. He then picked up his pencil and wrote something down.
"Will you CUT that OUT?! It's getting on my nerves!" Charlie snapped viciously, flinging his hands into the air.
"You are a very irritable person. Would you like to talk about that?"
Charlie gripped his hair and shook his head violently. "NO!" he screamed with frustration.
"Would you like to-"
"NO!"
"How about-"
"NO!"
"Why must you yell? I'm sitting right here, Charlie," the psychiatrist said calmly.
Charlie stared angrily from his place on the couch, breathing heavily and nearly shaking with fury.
With sharp movements, he lay out on the couch, buried his face in a pillow, and released a muffled scream of frustration.
When Charlie was finished, Dr. Shylo raised a questioning eyebrow. "Feel better now?"
Charlie nodded his head slowly against the pillow and sat back up. "A little."
"Enough to share your problems?"
"Don't push your luck."
"Got it," the psychiatrist said with a light laugh.
Charlie frowned deeply and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against the back of the couch with distrust. He allowed his gaze to shift around the room with skepticism.
It was a cold, emotionless room. The "doctor" had definitely not gone out of his way to make it feel warm and comfortable.
The room was sparsely decorated; there was a deep brown bookshelf overflowing with psych books and pamphlets; there of course was the couch he was sitting on, a worn and aged chair, a small brown coffee table with a fake plant sitting on top of it, a small window with the blinds pulled down, the cluttered desk at which Dr. Shylo sat at, and an almost-yellow light flooding the room. The carpet looked like it used to be maroon, but Charlie wasn't quite sure.
"Well, our time is up for today. I will see you in another two days, and I suggest you work out what you're willing to share. Enjoy the rest of your day, Charlie," Dr. Shylo said after awhile, glancing at his watch.
Charlie nodded with enthusiasm and bolted out the door without a second thought, slamming the hard wooden door behind.
Dr. Shylo shook his head and scribbled something down in the booklet before placing it in his desk. He pulled out a sandwich and began eating his late lunch in peace, his thought revolving on ways to convince Charlie to open up.
French Chipmunk- Lol...I'll consider it. ^_~ I just don't know how to give a hint without ruining anything...The only non-giving-away hint I can think of it that it doesn't get better any time soon...lol...I'm bad at this game. o.O Anyway, thanks bunches for the review, and I hope you find this chapter suitable! ^_~
Nebula- Hehehe...So I'm not convincing you that Charlie isn't crazy? *Charlie mutters something under his breath about psycho authors and their psycho, twisted little minds dragging him into it all* Shush, Charlie! *clears throat* Aw, you didn't like my metaphor? Lol...I will admit it was kinda out there. ^_~ I'm not exactly WHERE it came from. Heeheehee...Me? Crazy? Nah...lol...*grins* Yes! I would feel mucho better with feedback on my poems. Lol...Nope, Gordon isn't all that great at Charlie-proofing the house. I'm getting the distinct feeling that convincing you of Charlie's lack of craziness will be difficult. ^_^ Can't imagine why...lol...
Banksiesbabe99- Yay! Another person who liked my metaphor! Lol...took a lot of brainpower, ya know...lol...I'm so glad you thought it fit him well. *grins* I'm glad you aren't totally hating Charlie *cough* Nebula *cough*...lol...Yeah. ^_^ It's all George's fault! Bah! I say we find something inhumane to do to him once the story is over...lol...It would be a nice farewell celebration. ^_^ Not that the ending is ANYWHERE near...Just something to look forward to. ^_^ Enjoy the chapter!
Brnnttebabe12- Lol...Charlie doesn't listen well. He kind of missed the 'stay away from the sharp pointies' thing...lol...*Charlie pouts because he doesn't get chocolate* Heehee...Yes, Julie is being good. Good Julie! *Julie grins, and Charlie pouts at the lack of love* Aw, Charlie....we love you too! *huggles Charlie* I hope you like the chapter.
Rachel- Yep...almost a year. It's scary...lol...Dedicated and obsessed would be the reason...lol. I agree that writing is a fun chance to live vivaciously through fictional characters...lol...Hehehe, yes...Poor backpack. So abused. And Charlie's a wee-bit stubborn/dense...He doesn't quite understand the problem...lol...rah for Everwood! Lol...I've never actually seen One Tree Hill...It looked good, but I was always too busy. I like Ephram/Madison as well as Ephram/Amy...I'm pretty easy to please when it come to Eph pairings...lol...Oh, Bright and Laynie? I hadn't even thought of that...lol...Coolness. Thanks for the sweet review, and I hope you like the chapter!
MDSWitter26- I'm glad you liked the chapters. ^_^ It's not a problem that you didn't review; life happens. Lol...I'm happy that you thought I got the Ducks' emotions down...It's encouraging. ^_^ I'm glad you like the Charlie/Julie-ness! Lol...Enjoy the chapter, and thanks so much for reviewing! ^_~
Katie- Lol...I'm glad you got that out of your system. ^_^ I can assure you there will be no Charlie withdraw symptoms on my watch. ^_~ Lol...No, Bombay's just weird about where he keeps his sharp pointies...lol...He's never had to Charlie-proof a house before. ^_~
Hotashell99- Yay! You liked my metaphor TOO! Lol...I hope you like the chapter. ^_^
Angel Spirit- *shrugs* Nah, grammar isn't that important in writing...lol...^_^ Grammar is over-rated. Lol...I'm actually in Pre-AP English, I just choose to use bad grammar occasionally...It makes me feel better and takes care of that rebellious streak. ^_~ I'm too much of a wimp to do anything else. Lol. Yay! Bye bye George! *breaks out into song*...*clears throat* Yeah...Well, I hope you had fun eating. ^_^ Lol...food is good...*nods*
Sarah- *nods* Charlie is being naughty...Oh well...thanks for the review, and enjoy the chapter! ^_~
Disclaimer- I don't own The Mighty Ducks.
-Chapter 52-
Charlie was jerked awake by a searing light burning at his eyes.
He groaned and covered his head with the blankets, muttering something incoherent and most likely not very nice under his breath.
"Rise and shine, Charlie. Time to get up," Gordon said with minimal enthusiasm, walking away from the curtains he had just opened.
"Go away..." Charlie mumbled groggily, sounding not-at-all chipper. "Do the words 'sleep' and 'summer' mean anything to you?" he asked with irritation, still hiding under the comfort of his covers.
"As sure as I am that you would love to sleep in, you can't. Besides, it's already one. I'd say you've had enough sleep for today. You have an appointment with Dr. Shylo at one-thirty and you need to be ready in," Gordon started before looking at his watch. "fifteen minutes, not including breakfast...err...lunch."
"I'm not hungry...let me sleep..." Charlie mumbled almost incoherently before rolling over again and burying his face under the pillow as well as the sheets and blankets on his bed.
Gordon let out a sigh and crossed his arms. "Charlie...you need to get up. If we don't hurry, you'll be late for the appointment. So up and at'm," the man said before pulling the covers off of Charlie's ruffled head.
Charlie curled up and covered his head with his arms. "Go...away..."
Letting out a sigh, Gordon left the room, securely shutting the door behind himself.
A few moments after Gordon had left the room, Charlie let out a whimper as he grabbed the covers again and clutched them more tightly over his head.
Rolling off the bed still wrapped snugly in blankets and landing with a solid thud, Charlie slowly peeked a single eye open. He felt the semi-rough texture of the carpet against his face and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.
The boy crawled sleepily out of the warm covers and dragged himself over to his closet.
He muttered incoherent grumbles under his breath as he rubbed his eyes and grabbed random clothes from the closet. A long-sleeved black tee-shirt, a black and red plaid flannel shirt, and a pair of jeans.
In a drowsy trance, Charlie changed and stumbled out of his room, putting his black Converse over his sock-clad feet.
When the boy reached the bottom of the stairs, Bombay looked up curiously at the teenager.
"You ready?" Gordon asked, quirking an eyebrow skeptically.
The man simply got an agitated grumble and a half-asleep glare in return. Gordon had known waking Charlie up wouldn't be a pleasant event, but it had gone fairly well in comparison to what he had expected.
"Good to know you're so bright and chipper directly after being woken up," Gordon said with only a hint of sarcasm. "I'm beginning to feel sorry for Dr. Shylo."
Charlie sat in a kitchen chair and blinked at Gordon, his eyes still half- closed. "Who's Dr. Shylo?" he asked, his voice raspy from sleep.
"Your therapist," Gordon answered simply, taking a drink from the cup in his hand.
"Ah, okay..." Charlie said with a glazed-over expression.
Just as relief was settling on Gordon Bombay's face, a spark of realization crossed Charlie's features.
"You don't mean that shrink that you AREN'T making me go to, right?" Charlie asked, his eyes focusing.
Gordon gave the boy a tight smile. "You're very right," he said.
Charlie's face lightened slightly, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Alright then. That's good. I was worried there for a second that you were REALLY gonna make me go to a shrink..."
Gordon's face grimmed slightly, and he raised his eyebrows with something that could almost be classified as amusement. "Ah, no. I don't think you're understanding me," Gordon started. "You are going to a shrink...er, psychiatrist, and Dr. Shylo is it."
The teen stared blankly forward. After it sunk in, his eyes narrowed. "WHAT?!" he exclaimed. "But you just said-!"
Gordon held up his hands. "-I said that you aren't going to the shrink that I'm NOT making you go to. But since I am making you go, it doesn't apply."
"THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Charlie said, glaring hotly.
"Life isn't fair. But why are you so against going to see a psychiatrist anyway? It's a very helpful experience," Gordon said, standing up to wash out his cup and put it in the dishwasher.
"Hm, maybe because SHRINKS are for CRAZY PEOPLE, and I'm not crazy!" Charlie snapped defensively.
"Now, now, Charlie. Shrinks, er, therapy sessions aren't always necessarily for 'crazy people.' Sometimes it's just good to release your feelings and have someone talk through your problems and figure out a way to fix them."
Charlie gave him a look like he was from another planet. "Whatever...I'm thinking you might need some time with a shrink yourself...but while on that subject, I don't need to go to a shrink. I. Don't. Have. Any. Problems. End of discussion. Now I'm going back to sleep."
"Charlie, you don't have the authority to end discussions so you sit your butt back in the chair and eat breakfast, errr, LUNCH so we can leave." Gordon said with frustration as gripped his hair. Charlie turned back around from where he had stood up to go back upstairs and sleep.
"I'm not HUNGRY!" Charlie barked with a snarl.
"Then maybe we can leave now and get there early, or maybe even just on time. Car. Now," Gordon said firmly.
"No. I'm not going," The teen said rebelliously, crossing his arms across his chest. The sling was finally gone, and it greatly improved the simplicity and convenience of crossing one's arms.
"Yes, Charlie, you ARE going," Bombay said with finality.
"No, I'm not," Charlie replied with defiance, raising his eyebrows tauntingly.
"Yes, you are," Gordon replied.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes."
"No."
"Charlie, get in the car now."
"No."
"Charlie..." Gordon said warningly.
"No, you can't make me go," Charlie said with a hard glare and closed-off body language. By this point they were standing out in the front lawn, arguing on the door step.
"Charlie, just get in the car, okay? Make this simple and get in the car. You don't have to like the psychiatrist or the session, but you are going," Gordon said with unrelenting firmness.
"I'm not going, okay? I'm. Not. Going. I refuse," the stubborn teen said.
Taking Charlie gently by the shoulders, Gordon began guiding the teen to the car door.
Charlie whipped around and clutched at the doorknob. "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO!"
Gordon sighed and rubbed his temples. "Do you realize how unbelievably immature you're being? Just get in the car so we can leave," Gordon said with mounting frustration.
"NO!" Charlie yelled as he gripped the doorknob with a vice-like death grip.
"CHARLIE! Get in the car!"
When another 'no,' was said, Gordon wrapped an arm around Charlie's waist and dragged him to the car, literally kicking and screaming.
~~~*~~~
Charlie sat in the car with a hardened expression, but at least he wasn't screaming anymore.
The car pulled to a stop, and Gordon pulled the key out and looked over at Charlie. "We're here," he stated simply.
Instead of replying with 'I realized that,' like he was tempted to, he opted for the cold shoulder. Climbing out of the car in silence, he stood beside the car with an angry and agitated expression.
When Gordon started walking toward the building, Charlie followed in semi- submissive silence.
They approached the desk, and Gordon found out which room Dr. Shylo was in. He led Charlie to the room and let out a sigh. Charlie was most likely beyond angry with him...but it had to be done. He couldn't allow himself to lose Charlie, even if the teen hated him for it.
"I'll come pick you up in an hour," Bombay said softly.
Charlie nodded coldly and refused to look at him.
With another sigh, Gordon walked away to leave Charlie alone at the door of the office. He watched from afar to make sure Charlie did actually go in, and luckily he did.
~~~*~~~
Charlie creaked the door open and was greeted by a large, plain room sparsely furnished with a couch, a chair, and a desk. A middle-aged man with glasses and thinning hair sat behind the desk, staring at him as he walked in.
Feeling profusely uncomfortable, Charlie stepped in and closed the door behind himself.
"C'mon, Charlie. Sit down," the man said, watching Charlie's every move. It was really freaking him out.
"Um...right," he said, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the couch.
Instead of immediately asking questions, Dr. Shylo sat with his hands folded on his desk, observing Charlie.
Charlie could feel himself being watched, and he cleared his throat once and began fidgeting. He wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do, and he felt like he was some lab rat being observed in that little cage they stick them in.
When Charlie couldn't stand it anymore, he shot an irritated and ruffled look at the 'shrink.' "What the heck are you LOOKING at?!" he snapped.
The psychiatrist scribbled something down on a notepad and looked back up at Charlie, which made the teen even more nervous.
"I'm simply observing you. Watching your body language; it might surprise you how much the way a person moves and acts says about them," the man said, moving his glasses slightly farther up the bridge of his nose.
Charlie's subconsciously tensed, and the room hushed again. The psychiatrist continued jotting things down on the paper, which was increasing rattling Charlie's nerves.
"What are you writing?" he asked with an edge to his voice.
The middle-aged man looked up at him through the rims of his glasses. "That's confidential, Charlie."
"But it's about me, right? Don't I have some right to know?" the boy questioned.
"No," was the reply he received.
Charlie frowned and let out a frustrated groan, leaning back on the couch. The older man would periodically look up and watch Charlie's every little movement, then he would proceed to write it down.
"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to stop 'observing' me. It's really creeping me out," Charlie said flatly.
"I'm afraid I can't do that. But I think it's time we start talking. Though I'm sure we will have more than enough sessions following to discuss everything, I figure we should go ahead and start. What's bothering you?" the therapist asked, leaning forward and staring at Charlie.
The boy blinked at him a few times and gazed longingly at the door. When he looked back at the intimidating man, his face hardened and he took to glaring again.
"Nothing is bothering me," Charlie said, looking like a bird whose feathers had just been ruffled.
The shrink nodded and said 'ahhh,' before writing something down and looking back at Charlie. "And that is why you're so defensive and edgy about said problem?" the elder man questioned.
"I have no problem," Charlie replied in a deadpan voice.
"Then why are you here?" the psychiatrist asked with raised eyebrows.
Charlie shrugged and continued glaring daggers at his 'therapist.'
"Because I was forced to...and I don't understand why, because there is nothing wrong with me. I'm perfectly fine, but every time I say that everyone FREAKS out and insists I get therapy," Charlie said.
"I see..." the man said and wrote something down. "And how does this make you feel?"
Charlie sat there, blankly staring at him. After blinking a few times, he...continued staring blankly at him.
"I have a good idea..." Charlie said after a few minutes of silence.
"What is this wonderful idea of yours?" the therapist asked to humor him.
"I say that we don't talk to each other, you don't write anything down, and we just sit here. You say that I was good and stuff, and you don't even have to do anything. You still get paid, and I don't have to put up with this. Isn't it a great plan?" Charlie asked, coming to the conclusion that it was a brilliant idea.
"And what exactly do I say when you're picked up?" he asked, referring to Bombay.
Charlie shrugged. "Tell him it's shrink-patient confidentiality. He'll buy it," the boy said, nodding. "Just tell him I was cooperative, and maybe it'll satisfy him; he might even banish the horrid thought that I even need this. Which I don't."
Before the psychiatrist could reply, Charlie continued. "Besides, how could he not buy it? I mean for crying out loud, if *I* can't see that freakin' paper, why should he get to?!"
The man let out a sigh and shook his head. "No matter how hard you try, you aren't going to persuade me to stop asking you questions. It's my job. It's what I do."
"Come ON! If you stop the Spanish Inquisition, I promise I'll sit in the corner the WHOLE time, and I'll be good!" Charlie nearly pleaded, still hanging onto a ray of hope that he might get out of it.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Dr. Shylo said.
"Why the freakin' heck NOT?!" Charlie asked angrily.
"I'm a psychiatrist. I ask question, you answer question. If Mr. Bombay feels you need this, maybe you do. It never hurt anyone; it only helps. But you are going to have to COOPERATE for it to work properly," the man said.
Charlie's face hardened, and he let out a frustrated growl. "THIS IS SO STUPID!"
Dr. Shylo simply sat there with his hands folded on the desk and watched Charlie carefully. He then picked up his pencil and wrote something down.
"Will you CUT that OUT?! It's getting on my nerves!" Charlie snapped viciously, flinging his hands into the air.
"You are a very irritable person. Would you like to talk about that?"
Charlie gripped his hair and shook his head violently. "NO!" he screamed with frustration.
"Would you like to-"
"NO!"
"How about-"
"NO!"
"Why must you yell? I'm sitting right here, Charlie," the psychiatrist said calmly.
Charlie stared angrily from his place on the couch, breathing heavily and nearly shaking with fury.
With sharp movements, he lay out on the couch, buried his face in a pillow, and released a muffled scream of frustration.
When Charlie was finished, Dr. Shylo raised a questioning eyebrow. "Feel better now?"
Charlie nodded his head slowly against the pillow and sat back up. "A little."
"Enough to share your problems?"
"Don't push your luck."
"Got it," the psychiatrist said with a light laugh.
Charlie frowned deeply and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against the back of the couch with distrust. He allowed his gaze to shift around the room with skepticism.
It was a cold, emotionless room. The "doctor" had definitely not gone out of his way to make it feel warm and comfortable.
The room was sparsely decorated; there was a deep brown bookshelf overflowing with psych books and pamphlets; there of course was the couch he was sitting on, a worn and aged chair, a small brown coffee table with a fake plant sitting on top of it, a small window with the blinds pulled down, the cluttered desk at which Dr. Shylo sat at, and an almost-yellow light flooding the room. The carpet looked like it used to be maroon, but Charlie wasn't quite sure.
"Well, our time is up for today. I will see you in another two days, and I suggest you work out what you're willing to share. Enjoy the rest of your day, Charlie," Dr. Shylo said after awhile, glancing at his watch.
Charlie nodded with enthusiasm and bolted out the door without a second thought, slamming the hard wooden door behind.
Dr. Shylo shook his head and scribbled something down in the booklet before placing it in his desk. He pulled out a sandwich and began eating his late lunch in peace, his thought revolving on ways to convince Charlie to open up.
