Chapter 2: Re-introductions

Thank you to the people who reviewed, I know it wasn't many but they mean a lot to me. The whole thing about court is probably not right but oh well its my story.

Disclaimer: Again not mine, Stephenie Meyer's.

I watched his face intently, ignoring Charlie's and the receptionist's gasps from behind me, to see what emotion would appear. He had a look of sadness that showed in his eyes as he said softly, "I guessed I deserved that."

"What!!" I thought, "Is that all he has to say to me. After all the shit that's happened between us."

I turned to face Charlie before I hit him again.

"Out of all the therapists you could have got me, of all the ones you could have picked, you went with Edward Cullen! Even with all our history. Dad how could you?" I asked, my voice rising to a screech.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry but he's the best there is. I only want you to get better," my dad pleaded with me.

"But Charlie, you know nearly better than anyone, what's he's capable of. I thought you of all people would not want me near him. Wasn't it you who told me to stay away from him before he killed me. And now, you want me to open up to him and let him mess around with my already fucked up head. I think its you two," glancing at Edward, " who are out of your fucking minds, not me!"

I bit the inside of my mouth and clenched my fists so I wouldn't cry and headed towards the door.

Charlie stopped me and I could hear Edward say behind me, "Bella, your Doctor could take you to court if he believes its in the best interest of your mental health to see a therapist."

"Court?" I questioned him as I turned to face him. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, how could I be taken to court over my right to keep my head away from his mind fucking.

"Yeah. I'm sorry Bella," he replied looking me straight in the eye.

"But I just want another therapist. Anyone other than you," I said nearly in tears by this point.

"I'm the best therapist in the country, he's not going to send you to someone who's going to do a worst job than me," Edward said, " Also you'd probably have to explain why you don't want me as your therapist and I'm guessing you don't want to reveal everything to him." Edward hardly even flinched at the look Charlie and me both shot him when he uttered that last part.

"Fine," I answered back, crossing my arms not caring if I looked like a petulant 5 year old not getting her own way.

"Are you sure Bells," Charlie looked at me worriedly, suddenly realising what he was trying to make me do.

"Yep. I'll let you mess around in my head, Edward but after six weeks I want you to tell me if we can stop the sessions," I told Edward.

"Deal. Now if you would like to come in." He replied.

I stood up straight, said bye to Charlie and walked in with my head held high… and then tripped while going through the door.

"Ah Bella, uncoordinated as ever," Edward said softly as he grabbed my arm to stop me from falling on my face.

His hand on my arm brought back a whole lot of memories and feeling that I thought I had buried away a long time ago.

"Get your hand of me," I whispered to him, jerking my arm back. I walked in, sat down in a chair and wondered what the hell I had let myself in for.

********************

"So Bella, how are you feeling today," Dr Cullen asked as he sat down across from me.

I stared at him, "Seriously?"

"Bella, I'd like to forget what just happened outside and cast away old prejudices and any lasting resentful feelings you may have toward me so that I can help you," he replied.

"Well if I'm being honest," smiling sarcastically at him, " I'm fucking pissed off and having a really bad day. Let me guess this is when you come out with the 'now how do you feel about that' line. Hmmm?" I said as I leaned towards him.

Edward just gave me a look, " Would you like to elaborate on why it's been such a bad day for you?"

"Nearly every day is a bad day. Today though was especially bad, as I had to get on two fucking planes to get to this shitehole of a place, Charlie is insisting on driving me everywhere and hovering round me all the time so I don't kill myself, and now I find out that you're my therapist," I told him.

"Right, well at least your opening up. Most people find it hard to talk to me the first time they come in here," he said.

"Firstly, it's not that I don't find it hard, it's just because I know that if I tell you how I'm really feeling then you'll fell guilty. And secondly, I'm not 'most people'." I told him.

" No your not," he said as he looked at me straight in the eye, "and what do you mean guilty?"

"Well, if I'm pissed off and you're a factor of my pissed offiness, then you feel guilty about making a patient feel even worse rather than better."

"Pissed offiness is not a word."

"It is now, I made it up. But your not commenting on my theory."

"That's cause your theory is false, stupid and doesn't make sense," it was hilarious to see him getting so frustrated.

"Temper, temper, Doctor. Aren't you supposed to be the calming influence, while I'm the angry and mis-understood one? And if my theory doesn't make any sense, how do you know it's false?" I asked him.

The look on his face was a picture; he looked like he was about to rip my head off. But he just looked at me in the eyes and took a deep breath.

"I can see your going to be quite a distraction, Bella. Your doing anything you can so you can avoid talking about what happened," he said.

"Who? Me? Nah," I said, trying again to get him away from wanting to find out my feelings.

"Bella, you need to stop this. I'd rather get a start today than wait another three days to get any progress."

I inwardly counted up to ten, trying to think about a response that didn't involve a threat or a few choice swear words.

"Then go ahead. Ask me whatever you need to get this over as soon as possible," I eventually said to him.

"Okay, now you don't have to answer anything straight away. We're going to go slow, so that we can go through everything. Take your time and don't worry these starting questions aren't going to be hard."

"Well then, lead on," I replied.

"Right then, why don't you tell me start with what happened when you returned to Florida for your summer, from college?" he asked.