Disclaimer: I own neither the Underland Chronicles, nor any miscellaneous tidbits or references I may use in this piece.

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All proceeds go to no one, because there aren't any.

Chapter

4

Gregor massaged his temple, trying to rid himself of the headache that had cropped up a few days ago. How stupid could you get? He knew they did not have the money for this. Yet, here they were, waiting in the reception area for a shrink to call him in. Why had he made that crack about suicide? Idiot…

His mom kept staring at him, as if he would decide to off himself right then and there. He wish she would stop. Her gaze was beginning to make him fidgety. His dad just glared at the floor. He had not said much after that little episode. Barely moved, even. Lizzie was at home, recuperating from the shock. Boots looked around, on the brink of comprehension. Gregor still could not look at her.

He had apologized several times. But apologies were not what his family needed. What they needed was assurance that their brother and son would stay with them in the world of the living. Something he could not give them.

He took stock of the reception area. There was a lady sitting behind a desk, pecking out commands on a keyboard. Plants were sprinkled here and there. Another man with circles under his eyes sat in the corner. The placed smelled like… despair.

The door to the shrink's room opened, releasing a middle-aged woman whose eyes flitted around with uncertainty.

"Gregor?" called a voice from within.

Gregor pushed himself to his feet and made his way toward the room. He caught sight of his mother starting to stand. He met her gaze and shook his head.

"I'll be alright, mom," he said, faking a smile. She did not seem reassured.

Gregor expected to see one of those weird couches, like in the movies. He was disappointed. Instead, there was a desk, a few comfortable-looking chairs, and even more plants.

"Wouldn't you prefer to have your parents in here with you?" the shrink asked, showing concern.

Gregor scoffed. "What do I look like, a kid?"

The shrink furrowed his eyebrows. Apparently, that was exactly what Gregor looked like.

"Have a seat," he said, indicating one of the chairs. Gregor plopped down onto it. He rested his elbow on the armrest and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he looked at the shrink, he saw on the desk a plaque that stated a name. 'Dr. Mallard.'

Gregor surprised the shrink by being the first to speak: "So, Dr. Mallard," he began, "Explain something to me: Why'd my parents decide to bring me to an 'adult' psychiatrist?"

Mallard was silent for a moment, then steeled his face. "They apparently thought that your troubles were too big for a counselor, or some such."

Gregor nodded. "Makes sense." He peered around the room. Nothing interesting stuck out to him. "So now what? You say words, and I pretend to listen?"

Another pause. "Pretty much." Mallard slumped a bit, obviously under a bit of stress himself. He sighed. "I can't pretend to understand your problems. Those scars on your ankles say that much, at least."

Gregor impulsively pulled his feet back. "You saw?" he asked, more passively than anything.

"Of course I did," Mallard replied, "they stick out like a sore thumb. Who are you trying to fool, anyway?" A little smile played on the shrink's lips. "No one had to drag you in here, so I think you want help. Even if you don't know it." He locked eyes with Gregor. "So, let's hear it. What's your plan?"

Gregor's eye twitched. Ripred. The big rat had said the exact same words so long ago. The headache attacked with full force. He clenched his eyes shut, riding out the storm. But it did not abate. The pain kept ramping up as more and more images of the Underland surfaced in his mind.

He felt his shoulder being shaken and the world snapped back into focus. Mallard was beside him, giving him a stern, uncertain look.

"Where did you go, Gregor?" he said.

Gregor was frozen for a moment, then his head collapsed into his hands as tears came to his eyes. He was not sad; he was incapable of it. He was just… angry.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Sorry, doc, but you're no help to me." Gregor fought his way to his feet, but fell right back into it as vertigo gripped his innards.

Mallard's hands helped steady Gregor's descent. "I think I am. And I think I would. I can't help you if you don't pipe up, Gregor."

A fresh wave of agony bathed Gregor's head. He had heard that before. Not long ago. The principal.

Wrong. It was all wrong. He should not be hearing these things! He should not be here with this shrink! He should not have gotten expelled! He should be a normal 14 year old…

Except he wasn't normal. He did get expelled. He was here. And he had heard. He heard all he needed to hear. The only way this guy would know what his principal had said is if they were… coordinating this!

That was it. They were plotting against him… They knew what he had done, where he had been, and they wanted him dead.

He stiffened. He could not show the shrink that he knew. He needed to stay alive. He needed to get out of here; get his family out of here. But how?

Gregor took on an aloof demeanor. "I'm fine. So is that all for today?"

Mallard seemed skeptical. "We've barely started," he said. "You still have another twenty-five minutes."

"That's fine." Gregor stood slowly. "I don't think you're what I need."

The shrink inspected the floor with a sort of dejected thoughtfulness. "Maybe you're right." The statement was not submissive, but contemplative. "Very well, Gregor. It was nice meeting you." His hand came up for a shake.

Gregor flinched, but quickly recollected his composure and took Mallard's offer.

On their way out of the reception area, Gregor's mother lagged behind. He peered back in time to see the shrink slip his mother a small piece of paper.

Sorry for the wait, guys. I have this thing about not continuing after the third chapter of a story. Meh. Oh well, here's the fourth, ja? So I know where to go now. But, I'd still like to hear your suggestions. Fly you High… but not too high.