I kept Christmas short because Christmas Eve was so long. Just so's you know.

"I don't really know how this works, Dr. Hopper."

"It's nothing to stress over," Archie said as he scribbled the date in the corner. He propped his clipboard against his knee and leaned back in his seat, studying the patient."Why don't we start off with you telling me something about your mother?"

"My mother?" Hook repeated, knitting his brow worriedly. "Like what?"

"Let's see…" Archie consulted his notes. "The other day, you mentioned that she was normally very distant with you…was extremely critical when she did pay attention to you…openly favored your brother, Liam—"

"Liam," Hook growled, kneading his fist into the armrest. Archie raised his eyebrows.

"Seems we've struck a nerve," he observed. "Tell me about Liam."

Hook gave an exasperated little shrug. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything," Archie said, nonplussed. "Was he younger, was he older…"

"Older," Hook said, somewhat impatiently. "I'm sorry, but how is this supposed to help?"

"I'm trying to build a picture of your home life," Archie explained. "Children are shaped by the environment they grow up, and they can develop maladaptive behaviors because of them. The root of your problems almost certainly rests in your early childhood."

"Oh…" Hook started to nod slowly, then shook his head. "No idea what you just said."

"Just go on about Liam," Archie said. "He was older than you, you said?"

"Seven years."

"Mmm-hmm…" Archie scribbled on his notepad. "And how did you see your brother? Did you two get along?"

"Oh, I loved my brother," Hook shrugged. "I mean, I didn't understand why Mum liked him so much more than me, but I didn't have anything against Liam. He was a better father to me than any of the uncles."

Archie frowned. "What do you mean by, the uncles?"

"The guys. Mum had a string of on-again/off-again boyfriends that would traipse through the house all the time." Hook picked at a loose thread on his jacket, seemingly unconcerned. "I called them 'the uncles', because Mum always introduced them as 'Uncle Jack' or 'Uncle Eddie' or something."

Archie frowned deeper, and scribbled more on his notepad. "Tell me more about the uncles," he said, looking at Hook curiously. "What did they do?"

"Meh—" Hook dropped the thread—"nothing much. I barely said anything more than 'hello' to them. They just came through the door, followed Mum upstairs, and that was it. Always left money for groceries, though." Hook smiled, shaking his head reminiscently. "Nice guys."

Archie cocked his head. "What do you mean, they left money for groceries?" he asked. In his mind's eye, he could see a drunken-sailor-type slouching through a small house and tossing a handful of coins on the table, giving a nod to a small boy playing peacefully in the other room before walking out the door—another satisfied customer.

"They left money," Hook frowned. "What? What's the big deal?"

Archie stared at him. Was it possible that after two hundred some years, he hadn't figured it out? "The uncles left money after they went upstairs with your mother?"

"Yeah, I don't—" Hook gave his head a bemused shake. "What?"

"I just want you to think about that," Archie said carefully. "These men…they weren't really your uncles, were they?"

"No, they were Mum's friends."

"Right, okay. Um…did you ever see any of them more than once?"

"Yeah. Well—actually, hang on…" Hook looked at the ceiling, squinting with the effort of remembering. "I might have seen a few more than once, but most of them…not really. No."

Archie nodded slowly. "And your father?" he asked, fairly confident he already knew the answer.

"What about him?" Hook said bewilderedly. "I told you, it was just me, Mum, and Liam. I don't even know who my father was. Liam's father died in the navy, and mine was just a deadbeat. It was only ever the three of us, and the uncles."

"So, you had a single mother, supporting herself and two children," Archie said, eyeing him carefully over his glasses. "How did your mother make a living?"

"She worked at the…" Hook frowned, and scratched the back of his head. "Actually, she…she kinda just stayed home a lot."

"Spent a lot of time upstairs with the uncles?"

"Yeah…" Hook slowly lowered his hand, looking up at Archie. He was on the verge of realization, clearly resisting.

"Who weren't really your uncles, were they?"

"No…"

"Who were they?"

"Clients…"

"Because what did your mother do for a living?"

Hook looked faintly green. "Prostitution," he whispered.

Archie sat back in his seat with a sigh, watching Hook come to terms with the new realization.

"Oh. My. God." Hook stared at him with wide eyes. "Mum was a whore."

Archie hesitated. "Yes."

"She had sex for money."

"Yes."

"She was a whore."

"We discussed that."

Hook's eyes widened even more. "Oh, shit," he breathed, standing up. "Oh, shit, shit, shit…Oh, my God…Oh, my God…"

Archie watched as he circled the couch in a daze, covering his hand over his mouth in horrified realization. "What?" Archie asked, swiveling his head to follow Hook's movements. "What's wrong?"

"We had different fathers," Hook choked, as his wobbly legs gave way and he sank to a seat. "M-me and Liam…we had different fathers. She kept Liam's dad's stuff, but none of mine's because…because…" He swallowed hard, and whispered, "I was a prostitute baby."

Archie slowly brought his pen back out and clicked it open to write "prostitute baby" in his notes. Oh, that explained so much…

"That's why she loved Liam, and she hated me," Hook said numbly. "I was an accident. One of her clients knocked her up, and nine months later…me."

"Probably why you developed an ambivalent/anxious attachment pattern," Archie murmured.

"Developed a what?"

"Ambivalent/ anxious attachment pattern," Archie repeated, setting down his pen. "Children whose parents waver between neglect and attention develop this because they don't know what sort of treatment they're going to get that day. I'm going to make an educated guess that when you were an infant, your mother responded to you sporadically—probably because she was still deciding whether or not to keep you or something along those lines—"

Hook put a hand to his heart, looking distressed.

"—and even afterward, she continued that roller coaster of emotional availability. That in turn made you increasingly desperate and yearning for those small flashes of affection; and when you got them, you regarded them with suspicion and distrust. You were always waiting for her to reject you, and yet, you were desperate for her to accept you."

"How do you know this?" Hook said, looking alarmed. "My God, that was my entire childhood!"

"An educated guess," Archie said simply. "Attachment behaviors start in infancy and extend all the way to adulthood, shaping the way we approach relationships. You learned to approach relationships with alternating suspicion and clinginess. Every time you sense rejection, you hold on more desperately."

"But how do you know?" Hook cried. "Magic? Is it magic? Because I don't like magic, Dr. Hopper, and I don't want you using it on me without my knowing!"

"It's not magic, it's your behavior," Archie scoffed. "You're a textbook case. Children with ambivalent/ anxious attachment grow into insecure, self-critical adults who depend on others to validate their self-worth. They assume the 'pursuer' of their relationships, seeking affection and attention to the point where they reach possessiveness and smothering. When they sense rejection, they often give way to dramatic behaviors in an effort to avoid it. Now—"

"Oh, my God, that's me." Hook stared at him with wide, horror-filled eyes, clutching the neck of his jacket. "I've…I've done that, I've done all that! And the rejection thing? The rejection thing!"

Archie raised his eyebrows. "Are you thinking about something in particular?"

Hook nodded miserably. "First time Ruby broke up with me, I went to the diner and I told her in front of the whole room that I loved her."

"Oh, wow."

"I mean…we broke up again the week after, and she told me, she knew I didn't mean it because I say shit like that all time, but I say shit like that all time." Hook clung more tightly to his jacket, biting his lip anxiously. "I say shit like that all the time."

"I know you do," Archie said patiently. "I bet you've done that in all your relationships, haven't you?"

"Honestly, I haven't really had many relationships," Hook confessed. "A lot of random sex, but not a lot of actual relationships."

"Well, let's walk through it, "Archie suggested. "First girlfriend?"

"Annamaria." Hook smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. "Oh, Annamaria….She was beautiful, Dr. Hopper, you had to see this girl. Long, dark hair…blue, blue eyes…tall, graceful… hot as fuck, let me tell you. Whew! And was she flexible, oi, was she flexible! That girl could bend in ways I didn't even know were possible."

"And what happened with Annamaria?" Archie prodded, ignoring the sexual ad-libs.

Hook sighed. "I joined the navy, and she wasn't sure if she could handle a long distance relationship, so…"

Archie waved him on. "So…?"

"So…I…" Hook winced. "I asked her to marry me."

Archie sucked in a breath. "And how did that turn out?"

"Oh, she said 'no'," Hook assured him. "Got a resounding 'no' on that one."

"Hmm." Archie took up his pen again, jotting down notes about Annamaria. "And what was that relationship like when it was still going?"

"I was in love from Day One. Anna was…not."

"Is that the name you have tattooed on your arm, there?" Archie asked, nodding at his right arm, where the curling end of an inked letter peeked out.

"No, that's 'Milah'," Hook said, shaking back his sleeve to show him. "Eight years, I was with her. Much longer than Anna."

"Really?" Archie frowned interestedly. "Tell me about Milah."

"She was older…interesting…experienced. Very beautiful—long, black hair, piercing blue eyes…And she liked me."

"Paid a lot of attention to you," Archie said, reading between the lines. "Lots of affection."

"Well, I provided more of the affection," Hook admitted. "I tend toward sluttiness."

"That'll be the compensatory behavior," Archie nodded. "You were starved of affection in childhood, so you make up for it with—to use the professional term—'skankiness'."

"So, it's my mother's fault that I'm a slut?" Hook raised his eyebrows hopefully. "I can blame all this on my mother?"

"Let's—just—hold off on the blaming," Archie said, holding up his hand. "Talk to me about Milah. Why did you stay with her so long?"

"I don't know," Hook sighed, leaning back on the couch. "She was captivated by me, hung off my every word. I liked the attention…I liked being swooned over. I liked not having to try so hard."

"You felt secure with Milah," Archie summarized. "You weren't scared of her rejecting you."

"No, I wasn't," Hook agreed. "But then she died, so you know…" He waved his hand wearily. "That whole thing happened."

"Mmm-hmm," Archie said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "And after Milah?"

"After Milah, a bunch of random girls. None of them lasted more than a week or so, it was just when we were resupplying at some port or other."

"And after that?"

"I was on a revenge quest, I didn't have time to get involved with anyone," Hook shrugged. "I mean, there were…there were ladies that I had certain understandings with, but it was all physical. I didn't really have another relationship until Ruby."

Archie nodded, scribbling away. "Tell me about Ruby."

"You know Ruby," Hook said, sounding confused. "You see her all the time, don't you?"

"I want you to tell me about Ruby," Archie explained. "Like how you told me about Annamaria and Milah."

"Um…" Hook leaned his head back against the couch, looking at the ceiling. "Let's see…she's beautiful. Dark hair, blue eyes, face of an angel…She's into some weird shit, but I like it. Very creative, very flexible…"

Archie raised his eyebrows, not pausing in his scribbling. "Okay…"

"And…let me see, what else?" Hook exhaled. "She's very affectionate, I love that. She loves to talk, although that can be a little exhausting because sometimes she'll quiz me after, to make sure I was listening."

"What about the relationship?" Archie asked, glancing up. "Would you say it's 'balanced' or more 'one-sided'?"

Hook thought for a minute, regarding him thoughtfully. "Doctor-patient confidentiality, right?" he said finally.

"Believe me, Hook—I have no desire to discuss you in my leisure time," Archie told him. "Just tell me. This is a safe place."

"…All right, then." Hook sat up, taking a deep breath. "I love her, Archie. I love her so much, it hurts. I just want to be around her all the time, and when I'm not with her, I miss her more than anything. I love her like—"

"Hang on, hang on," Archie said, racing to get his words down. "I'm only on 'want to be around her all the time'."

"—more than I can say, and I've been trying so hard not to come on too strong and scare her off, but I say stupid shit sometimes, and she got so angry and I—" Hook shook his head helplessly, his voice breaking. Archie dryly passed him the box of tissues, which he accepted with a tearful, "Thank you."

"So, this is another Annamaria relationship?" Archie asked. "Stronger feelings on your side?"

"I guess so," he sniffed.

"And this has been a fairly unstable relationship, hasn't it? Lots of breaks in between, lots of anger?"

"I don't like the word 'anger'. Let's say 'passion'."

"Passion, whatever. This is a rocky relationship?"

"There's been a lot of ups and downs. She's always the one who breaks it off, I'm always the one who comes crawling back." Hook dabbed at his eyes, and let out a shuddering breath. "It's because I'm too needy, isn't it? That's why Ruby flipped out the other day. Because nobody wants someone with ambidextrous attachment to love them."

"Ambivalent/ anxious," Archie corrected automatically. "But again, let's hold off on the blaming." His thoughts drifted briefly to Ruby's file, which had phrases like, "severe borderline personality disorder" and "PTSD after consuming partner" and "abandonment issues" scattered throughout. "Ruby's got her own problems."

"Like fear of commitment," Hook said instantly. "She likes having me around, but the second I try to change things or move them forward, she gets panicky and weird. That's why we fight so much—she's hyper-sensitive, and I'm, apparently, pathetic."

"'Pathetic' is a strong word," Archie hesitated. "Let's say 'emotionally dependent' for now. And let's stay focused on you, Ruby's not the main issue here." He lifted the pages of his notes, skimming his hurried handwriting. Annamaria…Milah…Ruby. It was like trying to solve a murder, tracing all the victims back to something that linked them together; looking for a pattern that could lead to an explanation. There was one thing that immediately jumped out to him, that kept showing up in all of their descriptions: they all seemed to have a similar look. Dark hair, blue eyes, tall and beautiful…

Archie frowned and slowly lifted his head to look at Hook, who was trying to wipe his eyes without smudging his eyeliner. "What did your mother look like?"

"My mother?" Hook repeated, befuddled. "Why are we back on her? I thought this was about me."

"This has a point,"Archie assured him. "What did your mother look like?"

"Um…" Hook closed his eyes, conjuring the memory of his mother. "Like me, I guess. She had long black hair…we had the same eyes, everyone always told me I had my mother's eyes…tall, willowy…She was very beautiful, that was something else everyone said." He opened his eyes, grimacing. "Probably why she got such good business."

"Long black hair, blue eyes, tall and beautiful," Archie echoed. "Who else does that sound like to you? Out of all the significant women in your life, who else does that description fit?"

Hook looked blank for a second…then a small frown creased on his face, deepening the longer Archie looked at him. "I don't like where this is going," he said warily.

"Who else has dark hair and blue eyes?" Archie pressed. "Who else is tall and beautiful? Who, other than your mother?"

"I don't know—"

"Yes, you do know. Say it, Hook. Who else looks like her?"

"They don't look like her—!"

"Who doesn't look like her?"

"No one, there's no—"

"Who doesn't look like her?"

"—can't be that fucked up, I can't be—"

"Who doesn't look like her?"

"RUBY!" Hook shouted, jumping to his feet. "RUBY! AND MILAH! AND ANNAMARIA, THEY ALL LOOK LIKE HER, OKAY?"

Archie sat back as Hook started pacing the room, wildly running his hand through his hair and talking to himself in a frenzied whisper.

"They look like her," he muttered, his voice shaking. "They look like her. Oh, God, Dr. Hopper, what's wrong wth me?" He stopped, staring at him with wide eyes. "Christ…it's not like…I'm not in love with my own mother, am I?"

"It's a little early in the day to diagnose an Oedipus complex," Archie said, folding his hands over his knee. "It doesn't quite read that way to me, anyway. Sit down, though—this is pretty sad."

Hook obediently sank to a seat, looking extremely pale and gaunt, his eyes haunted.

"Considering everything all together," Archie said, gesturing at the stack of paper that was Hook's file, "I'm going to say, you never got the love you were looking for from your mother in childhood. And with this attachment pattern, I think there was nothing you needed more than to feel loved by your mother, so even when you grew up, you were still desperately searching for that. You could never be loved by her, but you could be loved by someone like her, and that was the closest you could get. So you clung to these women who reminded you of her, so you could try to satiate that hunger for your mother's affection." He sighed, adjusting his spectacles. "But romantic and sexual love are not replacements for parental love, so it never worked. Your instinct is to seek a secure attachment, but you can't get that because you're depending on the other person to provide that for you. Romantic love is different than parental love: romantic love ideally includes equal effort by both partners; parental love is unconditional. That's why, all your desperation to feel closer to someone and to hold onto them backfires: you're trying to fulfill a need with a poor substitute, and it's not going to work."

Hook's lower lip trembled violently. "Oh, my God," he whispered. "I feel so sorry for me."

Archie sighed, leaning forward in his seat. "I'm going to highly recommend you keep coming to see me," he said. "We've got a lot to work through—we haven't even touched on your daddy issues yet, your alcoholism, your compulsive sluttiness…I'm free on Tuesdays at eleven, I really think you should come by."

"Okay," Hook said numbly. "That sounds good."

He was started to stand up to leave, but Archie held up a hand to stop him.

"And don't…" Archie grimaced. "Don't sleep with Ruby for a while, okay? Try to keep a safe distance between you two."

"Yeah," Hook said hoarsely. "That sounds good, too."