Better Hallway Vision

by UnicornPammy

A/N: Yay, new chapter already! This one practically wrote itself (with some help from Kendall). I know it's a little short, but to me it's juuuust right. I find that Brian's voice lives pretty comfortably in my head. So all he has to do is speak, and all I have to do is write it down. Not that I'm bragging or anything. : รพ Heh heh. Anyway, enjoy.

Oh, yeah. Disclaimer: Mine! Wait, are you sure? But I thought I came up with the whole idea. I didn't? Fine. Not mine. ::pouts::

Chapter 12: Hang On To Your Ego

The week had gone by too quickly, and all of a sudden here it was, 11:00am Friday, and Brian was standing in front of an ugly Tudor style building, gazing at the ornate door as if it was Hell's portal. He didn't want to be there, didn't see the point. Last week he wanted to kill himself. Now he didn't. What was wrong with his parents? They didn't understand at all.

Didn't understand that one Saturday morning detention could change your whole life.

If his father hadn't been standing beside him, he probably wouldn't have gone in. But he found himself walking up three steps and putting his hand on the doorknob, his body moving of its own volition. Brian really didn't want to be there, and he cringed as he opened the door and walked inside.

The interior was not as imposing--or as ugly--as the exterior. The foyer was softly lit, with a small console table to one side holding a small fountain that bubbled soothingly, and a Maxfield Parish painting hung on the opposite wall. Brian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he moved out of the entryway and into what was probably intended as a formal living room, but was now the waiting area. A young man sat behind a large desk made of dark wood. The receptionist looked to be in his mid-twenties. He had short, almost curly brown hair and hazel eyes hiding behind wire-rimmed glasses. His clothing was professional without being dressy, just a green sweater-vest over a white, long-sleeve button-down shirt with blue pinstripes. The sleeves he had rolled up to his elbows, and his hands were flying furiously over a computer keyboard.

The young man looked up when Brian came into the room, and the smile he offered was cool and distant. "Mr. Johnson?"

"Yes," said Brian's dad.

"Brian Johnson?"

His dad nudged him. "Oh, that's me," Brian said.

The young man nodded. "Thank you for being on time. Dr. Byers will see you in just a moment. Please have a seat."

Brian nodded this time, and looked for a place to sit. There were several different chairs lined up against the wall across from the desk, and two were a little more in the middle of the room. Those two were situated on either side of another small console table that was similar in style to the one out in the foyer, but it was a little shorter. Each chair was different, as if someone had gone to a flea market and picked them out at random. Yet somehow they all seemed to go together, to complement each other and the room. Brian chose one set against the wall and farthest from the door, a simple wooden one with a lightly padded leather seat; it was a little uncomfortable. His dad sat beside him in a cushy wingback upholstered in rich green velvet, and picked up a copy of Field and Stream magazine that was sitting on the console table. Brian picked up Popular Science, but was hardly interested. He was too nervous to pay attention to any of the articles. What was this Dr. Byers going to ask him about?

He heard a door open across the room, and he looked up briefly. And there she was. He'd been looking for her all week, but hadn't seen her. Suddenly she was there. Long dark hair, sad gray eyes. It was really her. He watched her walk across the room and stop briefly at the desk. The receptionist smiled at her, and she smiled back. Brian's heart stopped.

She stood there and held a short, quiet conversation with the receptionist. He wanted her to look at him, but he couldn't think of a way to get her attention without drawing attention to himself. So he just followed her with his eyes as she walked toward the foyer, pleading silently with her to look at him. And she did, just before she disappeared from the room. Brian saw a tiny bit of surprise register on her face. She gave him a polite smile, and his heart started again, in double time. And then she was gone. He had gaped at her the entire time. Stupid!

"Mr. Johnson?"

Brian whipped his head around, and he saw out of the corner of his eye that his dad looked up as well. But the receptionist was looking at Brian. "Dr. Byers will see you now." He waved a hand at the open door the girl had just walked out of.

They both stood and placed their magazines back on the console table. Brian started toward the door. "Only Brian," he heard the receptionist say. He turned and saw that his dad had started to follow him. At the young man's words, Mr. Johnson turned and sat back down, but not without a look of irritation on his face. Brian continued on toward the open door, his heart beating faster with each step. He really did not want to be there.

OoOoOoOoOo

"So what happened on Monday? After you got to school, I mean. Did any of them talk to you?"

Brian nodded. "Um, well yeah, John did. And Claire did, too. I didn't see Andy. Allison just kind of winked at me. But I saw her during a study period, so we weren't supposed to talk anyway."

Dr. Byers leaned forward, her legal pad balanced on one knee. She tucked a lock of sunny auburn hair behind her ear and straightened her glasses. Brian thought they made her look cute. "What did John and Claire say?"

"Well, John just said hi and tried to take my lunch. And Claire asked me if I'd seen John."

"And how did those conversations make you feel?"

Brian smiled and looked off to the side, remembering. "Well, they weren't really conversations, but they were, um, a beginning, you know? It was like they wanted to talk to me, but they really didn't know what to say, you know? So I thought, that's something, right? And then the next day was better."

"How so?"

"I saw Andy, and he invited me to have lunch with him. With him and some of his friends. I could tell they were weirded out by it, but when Andy told them what happened to my elephant, they started laughing. But not like...not like they were laughing at me, you know? Just like they thought it was funny. And one of the guys said that it happened to him too, that the light wouldn't turn on. I--" Brian felt a sudden burning behind his eyes. He hadn't realized how relieved he'd felt when he heard those words from Andy's friend.

Dr. Byers nodded and scribbled something on her pad. Then she looked up with an encouraging smile. "How did that make you feel?"

Brian tried to swallow the huge lump in his throat, but it wouldn't go away. "Relieved. That I wasn't the only one. That I wasn't stupid because I couldn't make a lamp." No, you're a genius cause you can't make a lamp. He smiled.

"What about the rest of the week?" Dr. Byers asked. She looked genuinely interested, almost as if she were listening to someone tell a fascinating story. It made Brian feel good to know that someone cared. That at least one person wouldn't judge him or his decisions. It made him want to tell her everything about himself, about his friends, his family, even the girl he'd met on Sunday and how he'd gone to school each day since hoping to catch a glimpse of her. And not getting one until today.

It slowly dawned on Brian how much he'd been talking. He hadn't wanted to say anything when he came in and sat down. He'd been expecting an ogre of an old man, one who'd tell him he was crazy, or just trying to get attention. But Dr. Byers definitely wasn't an ogre, or an old man. She hadn't told him he was crazy, or accused him of anything. Simply encouraged him to talk about himself. And she hadn't even asked about the gun, though his parents had to have told her about it. She wasn't at all what he expected. Brian snuck a glance at her. She was...wow. She was gorgeous.

But the girl... He wished he could ask about her. But he knew that Dr. Byers wouldn't be able to tell him anything. Probably not even her name. If only he could learn her name.

"Brian?" the good doctor asked.

"Hmm?" He looked up, feeling as if he were waking up from a dream.

"The rest of the week?" she prompted. "How did it go?"

"It went, um, okay." Was that all he could say about it? Okay? But as he thought about it, he realized that after everything that happened to him last week, and over the weekend...when he thought about what he almost did, okay seemed pretty good.

"I hear your parents are pretty upset. How are you doing at home?"

Brian lowered his head, covering his eyes with his hand. He thought about Monday morning, about his mom handing him his lunch sack and thermos and saying only, "Peanut butter and banana." His favorite sandwich. He thought about every morning since then. On the ride to school his dad wouldn't say a word to him, would simply stare straight ahead at the road, sad, silent and exhausted. Even Lisa was quieter now. She wouldn't look at him in the morning when she sat down to eat her cereal.

"I got my wish."

"I'm sorry?"

Brian sniffled and looked up. "I got my wish. I'm in control now." He looked away. "My family, it's like...like it's on its knees. I...I kind of thought it would be liberating but it--I feel more like a prisoner now than I ever did before. I hate it. How could..." He returned his gaze to her. "I'm so insignificant. How could I do that to my parents? My mom should still be yelling at me for acting like an idiot, not tip-toeing around me. It's really...it's scary." He glanced down again, swiped a few errant tears off his cheeks.

"You're feeling guilty, aren't you?" she said gently.

Brian nodded.

"Maybe that means that you are far more important than you realize."

He looked up, a little surprised. She smiled at him. "You're doing great, Brian. I'll see you next week."

Brian nodded again and took a deep breath. He let it out and stood, feeling as if she'd brought him up short. He gave her a weak smile and started toward the door. But something stopped him. He had to try. Had to. He turned back to Dr. Byers.

"Um," he said, and she looked up from writing something down on her legal pad and smiled again, her eyes questioning. "Um, that girl, the one who was in here before me...she ran into me. On Sunday."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she like, literally ran into me. I was wondering..."

Dr. Byers looked skeptical. "You know that I can't tell you anything about her."

Brian nodded. "I know but... Um, well, she didn't even tell me her name. Her first name. I was wondering--"

She just looked at him, one eyebrow crooked and a half smile curving her lips.

He laughed once, softly. "Yeah. I guess not. See you next week." He left her office and shut the door, then jammed his hands into his pockets. His dad wasn't in the waiting room. He walked over to the desk, and the young man looked up at him. Then the phone rang.

"Excuse me for a moment." He lifted the receiver. "Dr. Byers's office." Brian stood there awkwardly as the receptionist listened. He didn't say anything, just "Hmm"-ed a couple of times. "Mm-hmm," he hummed finally, then set the phone down. "Now then. Your father has already paid the fee. Here's the note to give to your school for getting out early today."

Brian accepted the note and turned away. He opened it up to read it.

To whom it may concern,

Please excuse Dana R. Hurley--

He stopped reading. He could feel his face turning red. He went back towards the desk. "This isn't mine." The receptionist held out his hand for the paper Brian held. He retrieved it and glanced at it.

"Oh, yes. Sorry. Looks like Dana forgot her note." He shuffled some papers on his desk, then picked up one that was lying right on top of everything. "My mistake. This one's yours." He sounded bored.

Brian could feel his face getting redder, and he floated out of the waiting room, through the foyer, and out to the parking lot where his dad waited in the car. Dana. Wow. Yeah, she looked like a Dana.

"Hungry, son?" Mr. Johnson asked, the first couple of words his dad had said to him in a long time. And even though Brian hadn't really felt very hungry at all the past week, he nodded. He'd had this feeling of living in a different dimension the past few days. There was this image in his head of the doors to the library being like a wormhole in space. You think once you go in that when you leave you'll be in the same place you were before. But he knew he would never be in that place again. There he was, not at school on a Friday afternoon, about to have lunch with his dad who should be at work. This was where the wormhole dropped him off; he might as well make the most of it.

A/N: I stole the good doctor's name from the X-Files. Byers is my favorite Lone Gunman. : ) Don't sue me.