Picani was running a little behind, according to the lady at the front desk. Roman sat down on the couch and looked around, wondering if Picani just wanted to do a big entrance again. What would be really cool is if Picani ran so late he couldn't do the session and Thomas gets a refund. That's the best-case scenario. There were extra days between now and the next appointment, too. Roman could put all this shit off that made him uncomfortable and brought up unpleasant memories he didn't want to deal with. Part of him knew therapy was supposed to teach him how to handle that stuff, but it seemed completely impossible that things could ever change.
Roman drummed his fingers on his thigh nervously, glancing up at the clock in Picani's office. He was grateful that Picani was running a few minutes late since that was a little less time he had to spend talking. But it bored him to hell and back and he didn't know if he should just pull out his phone or not. Would he get in trouble for that? Roman's distracting of himself seemed to be some kind of issue, maybe? He wasn't sure. It always felt like he was a fuck-up if left to his own devices, so that's at least what made the most sense. Maybe Picani decided Roman was a waste of time, after all—
There was a click of the door and the Puffman's beaming face as he stepped into the densely decorated office. Roman gripped at the throw pillow next to him in surprise. "Afternoon, Roman! Sorry about that." Picani nodded as he sat down in his big chair across from the couch.
"It's, uh, fine." Roman nodded back, pinching at his glove nervously.
Picani examined Roman, looking slightly puzzled. "You're a li'l more shaken by me bein' two minutes late than I would expect, there, Roman." Picani crossed his leg and opened up his notebook in his lap, today with a pink pen that had a ridiculously fuzzy puffball on it.
"Two minutes? For fuck's sake," Roman groaned and ran his fingers through his hair, slumping in his seat. "Has anyone ever told you that time is evil and they would like to see it obliterated from this earth with dust that is so fine it could never be rebuilt, even if you tried to wet it and make some kind of time paste used to make a cursed idol?" Roman flipped his hand angrily and it flopped down to the couch. It felt like he was waiting for way longer than that, but he'd also just been so mad at the three minutes every hour that he wanted to either burn himself or the world. He couldn't decide between the two.
"No, I can confidently say I've never heard anythin' resembling that." Picani let out a little giggle and wrote something down in his notebook that rested on his thigh.
"Oh, sorry," Roman murmured.
"No, it's great, Roman! I love that you're lettin' your creativity be an outlet for your emotions." Picani looked very pleased with him. Oh, is that what he'd been doing? He thought his thoughts were just going wild in a different, more annoying way than he was used to. "Though time can't be destroyed like that. Minutes and hours are just segments on the measurin' stick of the experience that is the passage of time. You can turn a minute to dust just as easily as ya can the idea of an inch." Picani smiled guilelessly, but Roman felt like his brain broke trying to comprehend that.
"Are you fucking high?" Came out of Roman's mouth before he could stop himself.
"Only on life!" Picani chirped. "Boy, there're so many after-school specials it's hard t'pick," he mused, tapping the puffball on the back of his pen to his chin. "Drugs are a prescription for danger," Picani spoke in a terrible announcer impression, marking his pen in the air.
"Yeah, yeah, drugs are evil, whatever." Roman crossed his arms and leaned back, looking away.
Picani looked at Roman oddly for a moment before flipping through his notebook. He scanned a page rapidly and uttered a fast "Oh, whoopsy-daisy," before swiftly changing the subject. "So how was your therapy homework?" Fucking hell, did Thomas also mention the whole drug dealing thing? Roman fumed, not sure if he could be mad at his foster guardians for telling him that. Well, they didn't tell the police. The puffball-wielding Puffball was alright compared to that nightmare of an option. "Roman?"
"You don't report stuff to the cops, right?" Roman asked flat out.
"Only cases of child abuse when the child in question deems it okay to do so." Picani tilted his head. "Did your therapy homework make you do something questionable in the eyes of the law?" he joked, surprising Roman slightly.
"What? No." Roman shook his head. "No, it just fucking sucked. I can't do it. My brain always goes off the rails so hard it ends up drowning in the Mariana Trench." Roman sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. Oh, they scattered those glow stars up there. He didn't notice those before.
"Sounds like ya were doing it right, then." Dr. Picani smiled amicably.
Roman froze, completely blindsided by that answer. "What do you mean?"
"You noticed your train of thought gets derailed when ya tried. I was going to ask ya t'look out for that today, you're already one step ahead of me!" Picani held his pen up victoriously.
"I'm sorry. What kind of crack theory is this?" Roman asked incredulously.
"Roman, the breathing exercise is about learning how t'take a step back, yeah? So one of the first steps is understanding how t'notice when things are gettin' away from you. I told ya earlier that you were just gettin' used to the action, and I meant that. Taking scheduled times to stop and breathe is also good for stress, and most calming techniques are breathing-based. It's one of those exercises that hits all three Animaniacs with one anvil, but it takes some time t'learn all the bits and bobs of it," Picani informed him.
"So, me freaking out about the fact that I couldn't breathe right…" Roman trailed off, looking down.
"Not the comfiest way to learn it, but ya did start picking up when your thoughts were getting away from you. You're doing fantastic, Roman." Dr. Picani reassured him.
"Those steps are so small." Roman furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Wouldn't it be faster to teach it to me in big hunks?" He asked. It would also be less confusing.
"It's not about speed, it's about developing habits. Motivation is about as reliable as Pain and Panic are at killing Hercules, so I focus on ability when trying to set up new coping habits with patients. If you start out with the smallest possible step, that action is easier the next time if we build on it. Eventually, takin' those nice, deep breaths when your thoughts get away from ya will be second nature too, as long as we put in the work now." Picani explained, drawing a line in the air with the puffball on his pen.
"So you've been hacking my brain with your evil breathing techniques." Roman narrowed his eyes carefully at Picani.
"Exactly." Picani tented his fingers together and let out an ominous chortle. "Eventually my nefarious schemes will come to fruition. All according to plan," he declared sinisterly, and Picani's willingness to play along with whatever stupid thing Roman said took him aback. Roman blinked a few times and sat up straighter.
"So, uh, just to confirm, I wasn't messing up because I couldn't clear my head while I did it?" Roman followed up, feeling a little thrown for a loop by Jigglypuff. He usually got in trouble for that stuff, not people playing along with him.
"As long as ya focused on gettin' the breathing done most of the time, you were doing great. And if ya missed a few, don't worry about it. We can't always expect the best from ourselves or we'll be worn Raggedy Andy." Picani tapped his pen in the air in Roman's direction with a sage expression.
"What if I wasn't focused on breathing?" Roman asked quietly.
"Did you keep breathing deeply the whole time?" Picani inquired.
"More or less." Roman nodded, gripping his fingers tightly.
"Then you can focus on more than one thing at once, and that's perfectly fine. I'm not gonna skip ya ahead for catchin' on quick, so just keep doin' what you're doing. When it's time to breathe deeper for your ribs, you'll also blow away the physical therapist." Picani smiled compassionately and tossed something at Roman. He let go of his hands to catch whatever the plastic thing was before it hit him. "Here, let's try to give your hands somethin' to do other than crushing things," Picani suggested soothingly.
Roman looked down at to see one of those fidget cubes he'd seen other kids messing with before. He'd played with one in passing at a library, but this one felt better quality than the last. He tried out each side until he settled on pressing the buttons since he liked that they sprung back like a controller. "Neat," he replied distractedly, clicking away at the cube.
"All the toys on top of the mini-fridge are there to fiddle with, you're welcome to pick up and try them all," Picani informed him, and Roman glanced over to the toys piled in a basket on the mini-fridge next to the box of tissues. "Now how about that other part of the therapy homework?" He asked patiently, picking up his notebook.
"Oh, I only looked up ADHD," Roman admitted sheepishly, rolling his thumb over the top of the buttons. He looked around in the basket and traded out the cube for a silicone thing with way more buttons to press.
"That's fine, I let ya know beforehand it was alright to not get to it," Picani reminded him. "Did'ja forget the others, or was studying them off-putting?"
"Both. I didn't want to research them and then I forgot. I didn't finish ADHD either, I got distracted." Roman shrugged, feeling a little relieved. It didn't seem okay that Picani was giving him so many free passes to mess up, but the fact that he got to get away with things was nice, even if he didn't quite trust Picani to not find another way to turn things on him yet.
"That's alright, Roman. We looked that stuff up as an exercise to figure out what ya wanted out of therapy in the short term, so if ya figured out something without researching your conditions, then we can focus on learning little by little in session until you're more comfortable, instead," Picani offered affably. Wait, what?
"You can't be this nice," Roman spouted out before he could even think about it.
"Lots of people can be. I'm sorry you've had so many run-ins with people who haven't given you what you deserve in the past," Picani replied consolingly. Roman just stared at him incredulously. "Now, did'ja decide something?" Picani asked again when Roman didn't reply.
"Ah. Oh. Um… I guess… scaring Thomas less?" Roman came up with off the top of his head. If it meant skipping researching that stuff that made him feel weird and restless, he could play along.
"Thomas has anxiety, he's naturally extra-cautious. Is there something specific you're thinking of?"
"It scares him when I…" Roman trailed off and dropped the button sheet to wiggle his gloved fingers at Picani.
"That might take a bit, but there're a few dinglehoppers we can do in the meantime, if you're okay with that?" Picani asked, putting the choice on Roman. Roman bit at the inside of his lip and thought for a moment before nodding. He didn't think he was escaping therapy soon, anyway. Thomas already seemed less on edge with Roman seeing Picani, too. "Great! Well, the first and easiest thing t'do is t'keep your hands busy. Why don't you see which ones of those your hands like the most and I can let Thomas know the names t'pick some up."
"No, I'm good." Roman shook his head, crossing his arms and shifting his thigh so the bubble sheet fell off his lap.
"This is for Thomas, remember? He's going to make this purchase for himself to feel better. The expenses don't have to fall on your head," Picani spoke genially with a nice, even voice that calmed Roman down right away.
"That seems… too easy, though?" Roman responded questioningly, not sure how to feel about that statement. It wasn't technically wrong…
"Is there a problem with things being too easy?" Picani sat back in his chair, ready to write in his notebook again.
"There shouldn't be, but things that look easy generally… have consequences, you know? Even teachers are always warning us to not take shortcuts and that the simple route isn't the right way." Roman furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at the sheet of silicone buttons.
"Teachers try their best, but that doesn't mean their advice is for every situation. You need to consider their viewpoint. They want ya t'learn, which is a hands-on experience. You gotta t'engage with the material t'have any retention. But not everything needs ya t'recall studied information. So it's not from a point of view that applies to your everyday life. Putting on your gloves is an easy shortcut t'help ya not use your nails on yourself and that's a good thing, right?" Picani held out his hands as if to illustrate the two competing subjects.
"Right…" Roman felt like he was starting to follow what the Puffman was getting at.
"So you've already learned how to do that. It's easy, and it's okay that it's easy. It's true that giving your hands something else to do will help Thomas feel better. He seems to like concrete solutions to help with his anxiety. Literal things in your hands that will be inexpensive for Thomas will give him peace-of-mind, and that's worth more to Thomas than money," Picani explained, drawing another line in the air with his puffpen. Oh.
"I… yeah, alright," Roman agreed, pulling the basket closer. "Which ones would be good at school?"
"The jewelry-type are the most covert ones. Something like one of the ring groupings might be nice for you, you've been preferring a pushing action so far," Picani suggested brightly, pointing the puffpen at the basket. Roman leaned over to dig in and look for any that matched that description. He found three that he began messing with right away to see what they were like. "The gloves and the breathing exercises we're working on will help with that particular issue, too. The gloves a very snazzy solution, you look dapper in them." Picani grinned and wrote something down in the notebook.
"Um, thanks," Roman muttered, not sure he'd ever been called dapper before. There was still the money, though, as much as Jigglypuff was good at distracting him. "You promise these are cheap?"
"They cost pennies to produce. We carry a few in the office, even. You can keep your hands busy on the ride home." Picani watched Roman mess around with the toys with an interested expression.
Roman stopped to look at the toys with a heavy sigh. He wished he could just pay for one himself, but he didn't have any money on him. Pushing at the rings even through his gloves felt satisfying, though, and he had to admit they didn't look hard to hide or particularly expensive. It was for Thomas, anyway… Right?
"So, I got back your labs and can confirm a few things. I'm going t'prescribe natural light therapy and a few vitamins t'help with your sleep issues while we get the sleep study set up t'make sure ya don't have sleep apnea." Picani hummed, writing on the paper, the little puffball flying across the page while Roman twisted at a bundle of rings on a necklace.
Roman blinked a few times, totally forgetting what they were doing for a moment there. "Okay," he agreed since that didn't sound too objectionable. He was already on vitamins for his ribs. Those felt inevitable. And he didn't know whatever that light therapy was, but it sounded simple enough. Lights somehow were used in therapy, probably.
"Since all your diagnoses are tentative… Well, other than the ADHD. That seems about as guaranteed as Dick Dastardly losing the Wacky Races. But there will be a few things I bring up on my own in therapy t'keep looking for information, but we will also work on things as they come up. You can also say if something is bothering ya any time. Is there anything right now you'd like t'bring up?" Picani followed up, looking pointedly at Roman. Roman only shook his head mutely, staring at the jewelry he was fiddling with in his lap instead.
"Alrighty then, that's no problem. How about we do a few icebreakers, instead? We need t'get t'know each other a lil' better, don'tcha think?" Picani proposed with his puffpen aloft.
"Why? You're like… a doctor." Roman rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"I know psychiatrists rarely do"—Picani motioned to the whole room—"all this. But this is where I can help the world the most. Just because I'm a doctor doesn't mean you don't have t'talk to me," Jigglypuff replied, looking very sincere. Roman shrugged, not sure how to respond. "That's okay, that's what these are for. We're gonna start simple, we'll first do two truths and a lie. You ready?" Picani suggested, and Roman reached for a water bottle from the mini-fridge and cracked it open before taking a sip and nodding.
"My favourite animals are foxes, I'm left-handed, and I got my therapy license ten years ago." Jigglypuff bounced in his seat as he spoke, looking delighted. Roman furrowed his eyebrows and thought for a moment. The left-handed thing seemed like bait and he had foxes on his socks, so the obvious thing was the license, even if he had no way to disprove it. Was that wrong? He didn't want to make a dumb choice. "Take your time." Picani smiled warmly and nodded to Roman. He took another sip of water and stared at him. Jigglypuff didn't look that old, either. That had to be it. Right?
"The therapy license is a lie," Roman solidified his answer.
Dr. Picani chuckled. Did Roman mess up? "No, I definitely have a license to practice therapy, but you're right that it wasn't ten years ago. It was six, and then I went back to school for my doctorate in the meantime." Picani settled back in his chair looking satisfied. "That was some great deductive work, Roman!"
"No, I think it was kind of obvious," Roman muttered back, looking away. "I don't think anyone would believe you're that old."
"Why thank you! I do have a youthful spirit. But you still thought it through and got the right answer! There's no reason to not take pride in that." Picani tilted his head and raised his puffpen to shake it victoriously in the air. "Alright, what are your two truths and a lie? You can take a moment to consider it, we have plenty of time."
"Um," Roman stalled. "I'm the older twin, I read the Harry Potter series twenty-seven times, and I never learned how to ride a bike," he said what he used the last time he played one of these games.
"Oh boy, ya picked some tricky ones! Hm." Picani held his chin and tapped the puffpen on his notebook while he thought. "Twenty-seven times seems too specific, was it the number of times you read Harry Potter?" Picani asked after a moment of consideration.
"Eeh!" Roman beeped out an error noise. "I keep a tally in the back of book seven. I can ride a bike, I just don't own one."
"Ah! I didn't clock ya as someone who likes to write in their books," Jigglypuff exclaimed brightly.
"If you saw the state of my books, you'd understand," Roman replied glibly. "I won't write in new books, but the ones that look like they've been hit with a car are free real estate," he explained his rules with marking books.
"That makes a whole lotta sense." Picani beamed brightly. Yeesh, it was just about books. That seemed overkill of a response. "Do you want to try again or move on to another kinda ice breaker?" He asked, folding his fingers on the top of his kneecap.
"Um, a new one, I guess." Roman decided another chance to mess up at picking the lie didn't seem as menacing as something new, but he mostly just went with instinct.
"Would ya rather find all your missing socks or five dollars on the ground, and why?" Picani bobbed his puffpen in the air.
"Five dollars. I don't need a bunch of gross old socks." Roman shook his head and stuck out his tongue in distaste at the idea that a pile of socks with holes in them would appear on his lap.
"Oh, interesting! I'd rather take the missing socks, I lost a new pair just last night! They had wallabies on them," Dr. Picani responded, wiping a fake tear from his eye as he bemoaned his missing socks.
"... Cool?" Roman didn't know how to respond to that.
"Shazam! Would ya rather be able to teleport like Nightcrawler or read minds like Professor X?" Picani held out each palm as he offered the two superpowers as suggestions.
"I'd rather teleport. I don't like having access to my own thoughts, other people's would be much worse." Roman shuddered at the idea, clicking a ring into another one with a grimace on his face.
"Oh, I agree! It's a very private thing to intrude on, isn't it?" Dr. Picani smiled and nodded, leaning to one side of the chair.
"Yeah, and it's not as useful as teleportation. How many secret vault codes does a high schooler really need? But I'd never have to walk to school or bum a ride again with teleporting. Running errands would be super easy, too." Roman continued, tilting his head up to the ceiling and tapping his chin with one hand while the other clicked at a switch.
"That's very practical of you! I live close to the office, so I don't think teleportation would be the most practical superpower for me personally. I'm one of those people that gets cold easily, maybe some kind of heat-based powers? I could always be warm and my coffee would never get cold. Now that's useful!" Picani enthused, flapping his hand in the air quickly.
"I mean, you could aim higher or something. Reality bending could do the same thing but you'd basically be a god on top of it," Roman pointed out, not sure why Jigglypuff would settle on thermal manipulation when he thought of all of the practical powers.
"I don't know why I'd need to bend all of reality just for warm coffee. I like the idea of having access to cartoon physics or maybe helpful projections of something I'm talking about, but the power to change all of reality given to one person is much worse than RoboCop." Picani furrowed his eyebrows and looked concerned.
"There is nothing worse than RoboCop," Roman corrected him immediately.
"Judge, jury, and executioner is nothing compared to the power of being a literal god." Picani tilted his head and looked at Roman curiously.
"It's not the god part I'm opposed to." Roman crossed his arms and glared at Puffcani.
Picani examined Roman for a moment before realization struck his face. "Ah, yes. ACAB."
"Thank you." Roman nodded resolutely and dropped his arms.
"Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and as fun as it sounds, realistically I don't care t'have my morals put to the test on a second-by-second basis like that when all I want is warm sweaters and hot coffee," Dr. Jigglypuff giggled to himself and shook his head.
"It's about having the options, Jigglypuff. It doesn't have to be some big moral clusterfuck if you just decide what's right and stick to it," Roman insisted.
"... Jigglypuff?" Dr. Picani asked curiously, barely holding back what seemed like wild enthusiasm.
"Uh," Roman stalled and his eyes shot around the room. Yup, no way out of this one. "Because of your… puffball pen," Roman spouted out the first lie that came to mind in the least convincing manner he may have ever uttered.
The Puffman looked down at his pen for a beat. "Uh-huh."
— ✪ —
The ride home was awkwardly silent. Roman had a handful of fidget toys that Thomas was happy to buy, but he just sat staring out the window during the short ride home. When Roman caught his own expression in the rearview mirror, it was somewhat afflicted and still a little red in the face.
"Therapy went that great, huh?" Thomas asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt in the garage and Roman hadn't quite figured out how to move yet.
"Huh?" Roman glanced over to Thomas. "Oh, yeah, sure," he replied distractedly, unlatching himself and moving to get out of the car. He paused and dumped the fidget toys in his backpack before they dumped out on the garage floor from his lap. Roman shut the car door and made sure he had everything before bustling towards the door into the house.
"Are you going to be okay?" Thomas asked after Roman, who already had his hand on the door.
"Dandy." Roman huffed and twisted the doorknob.
"Hold on! Please stay downstairs? Just for a bit?" Thomas pleaded.
"Okay. Just… let me drop off my bag in my room." Roman pointed up and turned back to look at Thomas.
"Sure," Thomas agreed with a concerned look and shut the car door. The car armed with a beep and Roman rushed through the house and up the stairs in a flash. He didn't know how much longer he could contain it.
Roman shut the bedroom door behind him and chucked his backpack toward his desk. He reached out for a pillow and held it to his face with both hands, then dropped to his knees, ramming his face and pillow into the side of the bed. He breathed in, inhaling the nice smell of the sheets, before letting out a short but wrought scream of embarrassment. Sweet fucking Juno, that was so stupid.
He has to live with the fact he called his therapist a Pokémon for the rest of his life unless someone came to get vengeance and spare him from the memory with their dark retribution. His only consolation was that with his luck, that would be soon. Roman lifted his face from the pillow and looked around hopefully, seeing nothing but the empty room. He dropped the pillow and threw his hands into the air sourly. "What, no takers?"