I'm sorry it takes me so long to update. I guess too many stories at the same time does this to me. But never fear! I will do my best to update my stories as often as I can!

Garry: Don't lie. You've been playing games and vacationing without even thinking of us!

Mary: Shall I get the pallet knife?

Ib! Distract them with the disclaimer! *runs off with a pyro and murderer chasing after*

Ib: Kour owns Ib. Ani owns nothing but her pencil.

My Problem: Chapter 2

Fabricated Therapy?

~Garry~

"Mr. Baker, the jury has come to a decision. They found you guilty." The judge boomed from his podium.

Garry sighed in defeat. He knew that it would come to this. He could explain to them the feeling he experienced when he wasn't burning things until he was blue in the face and it wouldn't change anything. No one in court could understand the feeling.

"The plaintiff has given you some options for your fine. You can pay the 40,000$ fee for damages…"

Garry flinched at the ridiculous number. Was it really that much in repairs or was his neighbor moving to a new house? He certainly couldn't pay that much off quickly.

"You can go to prison for 5 years."

That one didn't sound as bad as the first to Garry, but he felt that it was a bit much. He just set his neighbor's house on fire, so his sentence shouldn't be that bad.

"And the last option is to go through the new therapy session for a year."

"Therapy?"

"Yes. It's the Fabricated Therapy. It's a bit of an experiment. The doctors try all kinds of different psychological treatments at once in a completely safe environment." The lady in the plaintiff stand, who also is the neighbor, answered pleasantly. "It will help you with your problem, Garry."

Garry glared at his neighbor. She was the reason he was here, facing these choices. But she had a point. If he hadn't had the urge to burn down his neighbor's house, he wouldn't be in trouble in the first place.

Even though he didn't think it would help him, Garry decided on the easiest choice. "I guess I choose to try Fabricated Therapy."

"Good, now get outta here." The judge dismissed the people from the courtroom. Garry was led away to the holding cell again. He was to begin therapy immediately.

~Ib~

Ib sat calmly on one side of the table. At the other end, her mother sat with a glass screen separating them. Both ladies had a telephone pressed to their ears, but they didn't seem to know what to say.

"Ib… I'm very disappointed with you." Her mother started sternly. "A master thief should never be caught stealing."

Ib winced and tightened her grip on the phone. She remained silent as Mrs. Jule continued to scold. "You ought to have trained better and focused on the escape rather than the entry. Maybe you saw something else you wanted to steal. You must never be too greedy, Ib. It'll make you careless."

The young art thief lowered her head in recognition of her error. "You could go to jail for years for being caught. But because that would ruin the family reputation, I don't want that for you. The young psychologists here think they can turn you around with special therapy."

"…" Ib stared at her mother with a puzzled expression.

Mrs. Jule leaned closer. "Listen, Ib, this Fabricated Therapy thing is both a punishment and a test. If you never get caught again, you won't have to be punished with it again."

Ib nodded in understanding. Her mother smiled grimly. "You'll have to go there for a year. Apparently schooling is provided. But while you are there, don't fall for their mind games."

Ib stared at her mother expectantly with her red eyes. "It's disappointing Ib. Red Rose the art thief has finally had her identity revealed. And over a simple mistake." With a final shake of her head, Mrs. Jule left Ib to deal with her error alone.

Ib silently was led back to her holding cell. She sat with her delicate shoulders hunched sullenly. She was already feeling the weight of her mistake. Her already difficult career was only going to get harder now that she was caught. In order to continue stealing art, she'd have to move to another city, or maybe even a different country.

Her mother already distrusted her. She probably would have to come out of her retirement to make up for the time Ib would lose on this therapy. Ib would need to regain her mother's trust and her reputation as an art thief through hard work and patience.

While her cellmates pointedly ignored her, Ib wondered why she had to go to this new therapy and what she would have to do to pass her mother's test.

~Mary~

"I want to go home!" Mary shouted to anyone who would listen. She was standing in an interrogation room, handcuffed to a table that was bolted to the floor. She couldn't sit because she kicked her chair to the wall at the beginning of her tantrum.

The interrogation had gone great at first. The police got as much of a confession as an insane teenager could give. But then an officer made the mistake of telling Mary that she would have to go away for a while. Mary didn't want to go anywhere. Her friends would be lonely without her.

The officers gave up trying to reason with the screaming girl. She wouldn't listen to anything anyone would say. They figured she would tire herself out eventually.

Even when she stopped screaming about wanting to go home, she would glare at anyone who would mention Fabricated Therapy. "You can go to therapy or jail for your crimes. Which is it going to be?" the officer in charge offered.

"I want to go home." Mary rasped frustratingly. She couldn't understand why they wouldn't just take her home. She didn't believe she did anything wrong after all.

"You could make friends while at therapy." He suggested.

Mary remained silent for a while, but she showed interest. "Will it be fun in therapy? Will I make friends?"

"It'll be like a sleepover. You know what a sleepover is, right?"

"I read about them all the time in my making-friends books. They sound fun!"

"Yeah, so you'll go?"

"But… what about Macy, Kate, and Nikki? They'll get lonely without me!" Mary realized how selfish she was not thinking about her friends. Maybe they could come with her to therapy.

"I think they are being taken to a place where lots of people can visit them. They'll be alright. And you can visit them too."

"…Okay then. As long as they're alright. And I'll be making new friends too!" Mary chatted contently as though her tantrum never happened. The police officer breathed a sigh of relief and grimaced in disgust whenever Mary mentioned the word friend.

~Lylia Mental Hospital~

Three pairs of high heels clacked down the cold tiled hall. The ladies they were attached to were in a hurry, but were too professional to walk any faster.

The three ladies looked almost identical except they had different eye colors. They all had waist length brown hair and were short, despite the heels of their fashionable shoes. One had red eyes, another had blue eyes, and the last had yellow eyes.

They strode down the hallway to a door marked 'Dr. Han G. Mann Ph. D.' and entered the room beyond after knocking. "You sent for us, doctor?" the red eyed lady greeted the man sitting behind an impressive mahogany desk.

The man had messy brown hair and beady black eyes. He wore a light grey dress shirt with a dark grey tie and black formal pants. He also wore a serious expression on his face as the ladies waited for him to speak.

"New patients are coming in tomorrow. I want you three to take care of them. Here are their files." The man pushed three manila folders towards the ladies.

The lady with the red eyes picked the one on top and opened it. The first page had general information about the patient.

'Jule, Ib. Age 16. Student. Father is a wealthy salesman. Mother is a housewife. Arrested for stealing famous artwork.'

"Seems young to be undergoing this therapy." the red eyed lady said dryly after showing the other two.

"Her parents were quite insistent on her coming. I'm quite interested in this patient's situation." Dr. Mann gave the lady a half smile. "I knew you would pick this patient, Red. I trust that you will be able to make her understand that stealing is wrong?"

"Yes sir!" the lady backed away to flip through the papers in the file.

The lady with yellow eyes bit her lip as she slid the next file to her. She read silently with wide eyes.

'Guertena, Mary. Age 15. Student. Father is deceased. Mother is missing. Arrested for murdering 3 victims.'

"I heard about this on the news." the yellow eyed lady finally spoke. Her voice wobbled with a bit of uncertainty and fright.

Dr. Mann frowned with disappointment. "This one might be a challenge, Yellow. Nonetheless, I'm confident in your abilities as a psychologist."

"T-thank you sir. I'll do my best." The lady stammered as embarrassment flushed her cheeks.

The blue eyed lady cooly lifted the file and read it boredly.

'Baker, Garry. Age 19. Unemployed. Father is unknown. Mother is a pharmacist. Arrested for burning someone's house.'

"How is he going to be able to pay for this therapy? He doesn't belong here." The blue eyed lady tossed the file back on the desk with disinterest.

"His neighbor requested that we make him better. I'll be paying for any expenses on his behalf. Just do what you can, Blue." Dr. Mann frowned at the lady as she thought about that. Eventually, she nodded her consent and picked up the file.

"That is all I wished to speak with you about. Go make the preparations for your patients. You are dismissed." Dr. Mann watched as the ladies shuffled out of the room with their patients' files clutched in their hands and gave a sigh. He was entrusting the most dangerous patients to his most loyal doctors. They weren't the brightest, but definitely the most loyal.

I would like to thank my reviewers and my friend Maggie! Thank you so much for being awesome! *glomps everyone*

Oh, and let me know if you have ideas for this story! I take requests! And let me know if I offend or made an error, please.