"HOW THE HELL DID YOU SCARE OFF THREE THERAPISTS?"

Trowa was intimidated. He honestly didn't know that Duo's face could turn that shade of purple.

"The first one, yeah okay. Maybe I could understand that you just had differences. The second? Well, there can be more differences and besides, Horner can be an ass. But to make the third one CRY! And Quatre! For you to be the one to make her sob? Wufei had to beg her into not quitting."

Quatre's eyes narrowed, "She called me innocent. I don't do well with that, okay?"

Trowa nodded helpfully, "I heard it all from the waiting room. He told her, and I quote, 'If one more goddamned person calls me innocent I'm gonna shove my innocent foot up their ass.'"

Hmmm. Not only could Duo resemble a beet but his eyes could also bug out of his head. Man of many talents, indeed. "You told her WHAT!"

Quatre shot the professor a glare, "At least I didn't start telling the second one that he was a moron because he didn't know quantum physics. And then, I defiantely wasn't the one who sat for the rest of the session saying nothing but mathematical formulas so loudly that the cripple in the waiting room couldn't concentrate long enough to read his damned magazine."

"You did that to Horner! The man's a genius! Do you know how many papers he's written on psychology?"

He stuck out his chin, resembling strong a pertinent child. "Well he can't do quantum physics worth a damn."

"No one understands quantum physics! That's why they're quantum physics!"

"I understands quantum physics."

"Shut UP, Quatre." Duo was seething. "Okay, that's it. I really didn't want to have to stoop to this level but you've left me with no choice. I'm gonna call Une. She's known around here as Commander Une, and there's a reason why we call her that. It's because she a total bitch, but if she can't deal with you assholes, I'll eat my foot."

He stalked out of the room like an angry wet cat. Quatre and Trowa looked over at each other and scoffed, the Dane grumbling, "Someone forget his PMS meds this morning."

"No kidding."

Une was like a heated missile and she had Quatre and Trowa right in her sights.

They'd barely stepped into her office when she barked, "Sit down on the couch Mr. Barton, Mr. Winner, you'll park your wheelchair beside the couch."

Like small children they immediately obeyed, still wondering what the hell had just hit them. "Now. Mr. Winner, I've read reports by your physical therapist, doctors and nurses. All have been reporting a decline in energy, a lackluster appetite and insomnia. All have especially noted an increase of irritability, described by Maxwell as 'bitchy.'" She looked at him from over her glasses. "I understand your country of origin to be Denmark. Am I correct?"

Quatre frowned and leaned forward. "Yes but I don't understand what this has to do with me being bitch-"

"Scandinavia has the highest rate of suicide in the world, Mr. Winner. This has led several people to believe that depression is a hereditary as well as being caused by the lack of sunlight. I happen to be one of those people. You will begin an anti depressant starting tomorrow, a small dose and we will work up from there. As the treatment of depression tends to work best when combined with talk therapy and medicine, your physical therapist will act as your intermediate psycologist. We will meet once every week till I deem it fit for to be entirely under Mr. Maxwell's care."

Trowa felt a sudden rush of fear when she settled her crosshairs from a now speechless Quatre to him.

"Your doctors, Mr. Barton, have noticed a small facial tic occurring near your right eye-"

"What is a tic?" Trowa butted in.

"It is an unconscious twitch of the facial muscles. It makes you look like you are winking."

Quatre brightened, "Oh yeah, I've seen him do that!"

Trowa shot him a murderous glare but Une continued on, "Facial tics can be reduced by use of a tiny amount of Risperdal. It is an antipsychotic so not only is it highly addictive but you will also most likely retain water for a few days. However the trial you will need to be on is very short, so I've concurred that it will indeed be more beneficial for you to take it instead of continuing the tic and having it develop into a lifetime problem.

I also took it upon myself to look at the psychological survey that your job required when you were interviewed. I've seen some aspects of it that disturb me, such as your avoidance of crowds and your mother's state of mind."

His voice was growling as Trowa leaned forward in his chair, every muscle tensed. "My mother did the best she could and I will not have you insinuate anything else."

Use shot back, "She may have done the best she could but after a few years of concentration camps she couldn't have done much. I've had quite a lot of experience with the children of Holocaust victims, Mr. Barton. I haven't met one who hasn't had to raise their parent in some way or another and it is highly unlikely that you would be any different.

Now, as I was going to say before I was interrupted, I feel that it would be warranted for you to also begin therapy. Because of your aggressive behavior towards a psycologist who you view as less intelligent than yourself, I've decided that you will have hour long chats with Dr. Chang, who is under the impression that you two get along well. Like Quatre, you will also meet with me once a week."

The pair left office whimpering.

"It's just annoying okay? My family has done very well in business and that's a lot to live up to."

"Quatre. You're a wildly successful lawyer at the age where most people your age are trying to find a firm who'll take them. You've lived up to your family's expectations, trust me."

"And how am I going to continue to succeed? Being a successful lawyer has a lot to do with appearances. It's your job to fluster the person you're cross examining, it's your attempt to make them mess up. How the hell am I going to do that when the person's looking down at me? Wheelchairs don't make good impressions."

"First off, that's bullshit. Second, that's bullshit. Lastly, you're an extremely good candidate for prosthetic legs so when you do go back to work, I highly doubt you'll go back in a wheelchair."

"I don't know why I'm taking this. I don't have a tic."

"Cut the stoic German bullshit, will you? It's not flattering. You have a tic. It's not minor either, so take the Risperdal."

"Hn. Still don't think I have it."

"I could give a shit less. You're a good friend and a good patient but not when you start bitching. Then you just get annoying."

"So I didn't sleep last night."

"At all"

"Well, two hours. But that doesn't count. I'm tired though, I really really want to sleep. It just isn't happening."

"What did you do then? Read?"

"Um…. God, this is going to sound dumb. I listened to Trowa sleep."

"Awww!"

"Shut the hell up, Duo."

"I took care of her since I can remember. But then she remarried and I went from taking care of her to playing footie. Then I went from footie to math. Then I went to physics. I've never gone through life without something that's all encompassing."

"That's scary. Like going through life with a ball and chain."

"More like anchors. If I lose one, I'll just fly away."

"So then Fei does this thing with his tongue and oh. My. God. Angels appear with harps and there's this choir and fireworks and…. Quatre!"

"Angels? ANGELS? Of COURSE I'm laughing!"

"Hn."

"I think I've got a mancrush on him."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He's smart, he's funny, he's articulate and he can't stand me."

"Give him time."