Blue Patches Counseling Center: Chapter 2-Donnie
Title: Blue Patches Counseling Center
Author: Ocelot_l
Characters: Rebecca, Donnie, Tacoma, Todd, Lupa, Harvey, Tara, Film Brain, Marzgurl, Cinema Snob, Maven, Quinn
Pairings: Todd/Lupa, Harvey/Tara, past Marzgurl/Hagan, implied Cinema Snob/Phelous
Summary: Rebecca, Donnie, and Tacoma are all therapists at the Blue Patches Counseling Center. They specialize in different areas but all share the same goal of helping their clients lead happier, healthier lives.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Bad Language, Dark Themes, Depression, Self-Harm, Blood, Suicide Attempt
Word Count: 15,771
Notes: The names of all the producers have been changed in this story, since Demo Reel was set in an alternate universe, but hopefully I've done enough to make the characters recognizable despite the name changes. I hope you enjoy!
PATIENT # 0034997-FINN BRIAN AKA F.B.
Session 1
The young man peered around the room with wide, surprised eyes. There was a couch, a few chairs, and a desk as he’d expected, but against the back wall stood several different arcade games, while the remaining three walls were covered with movie posters, shelves of various DVDs and books, and a flat-screen TV.
“This is a doctor’s office?” he murmured, scratching his chin as he wondered if perhaps he had walked into the wrong building by mistake.
“It sure is,” a cheerful voice said from behind him, causing the young man to jump. “Sorry to startle you,” the other man apologized as he flashed a pearly-white grin. “I’m Dr. Donald DuPre, though you can call me Donnie if you’d prefer. I presume you’re my six-o-clock?”
“Oh, um, yes,” the young man replied, nodding.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Donnie said, extending his hand to him. “Now, is there anything you like to be called in particular? A lot of people like to go by a nickname or even their initials here, and that’s totally cool with me.”
“Er, um, then my initials should be fine. In that case, I’m F.B.,” the young man said, tentatively shaking Donnie’s hand.
“Righty-o then. Why don’t you come in and have a look around, F.B.,” Donnie said, gesturing for his client to move further into the room. “By the way, love your accent.”
“Oh, thank you,” F.B. said with a bit of a smile. “I’ve only been in the States for a few months but I’m always getting compliments on how posh and sophisticated I sound. If only they knew the truth,” he muttered under his breath as he ran a hand nervously through his hair. If Donnie heard him, he made no notice of it as he headed toward his desk and began organizing some papers.
F.B. did as suggested and took a slow saunter around the room, pausing to marvel at how many video games could actually fit inside a moderately sized office, before his eyes became fixated on the massive movie collection displayed before him. “Look at all these classics,” he whispered, touching their covers with one finger almost reverently. “The entire Criterion collection is here, along with the works of Sir Guinness and Bogey-”
“Don’t forget Hitchcock,” Donnie said, suddenly appearing beside the younger man. “I can’t get enough of his works.”
“Oh, I completely agree,” F.B. said, smiling a little for the first time since arriving. The two began to chat about classic horror films, which segued into classic films in general, and before F.B. realized it, an hour had passed and his session was over. “I can’t believe it,” he said, double-checking his watch just to be certain it hadn’t stopped working. “We’ve been talking for an hour about nothing.”
“I wouldn’t call our great debate on ‘Wilder or Depp-Who Wore it Better?’ nothing,” Donnie joked as he reached up to adjust his glasses. “But to get serious for a bit, this session went just as I’d hoped. I like to use my first sessions to get to know my clients in a more casual manner before we get into any heavy stuff, and I think I really got to know a lot about you, F.B.”
“Did you now?” F.B. lowered his head, his mood visibly dropping. “It’s funny you can say that, since I… I feel like I don’t know anything about myself anymore.” Donnie looked on sympathetically as the young man seemed to be on the verge of tears. “It’s so stupid but I feel like I’m lost and… and I don’t know who I am. I used to know, or at least I thought I knew, but now… I don’t know anything now. I wish… I wish I could change back to who I used to be… or maybe if you know, you could tell me who I am now?” He looked up to Donnie, eyes wide with hope.
“I understand how confusing it feels when the pieces of your life you thought you understood start to change,” Donnie said calmly. “It’s not always easy to live with these new feelings, but I promise you, F.B., that I’m going to help you come to terms with what you’re feeling inside. And one day, you’re going to look in the mirror and know exactly who you are again.”
F.B. nodded but remained silent, not convinced at all that the doctor’s carefree words could be so easily achieved.
----
PATIENT # 0034997-FINN BRIAN AKA. F.B.
Session 6
“Here, Donnie.” Donnie smiled as F.B. handed him back the DVD.
“You watched it? What did you think? Wasn’t it amazing?”
F.B. nodded. “I really loved the chemistry between the leading characters, and the effects were spectacular.”
“No, I mean Miss Zeta-Jones. Didn’t she look unbelievable in that dress?”
F.B. laughed and rubbed his chin. “I should have known that’s what you meant. Yes, I suppose she was lovely as always.”
“I’m so happy I know another film buff with impeccable taste,” Donnie said, chuckling as well while the two took their seats.
“Now, let’s move onto other matters. I remember you telling me last week that you were expecting a call from your parents two nights ago How did that go, F.B.?”
“Oh, that.” F.B. hunched down on the couch a little, fidgeting a bit awkwardly and casually avoiding meeting Donnie’s gaze. “I, um, well I didn’t get to talk to them for long, since, you know, there’s quite a time difference between here and Britain, and since these overseas calls are quite, um, expensive and all.”
“Uh huh,” Donnie said, expression suddenly growing skeptical. “How long exactly did you speak with them?”
F.B. blushed. “Two minutes, before I pretended the landlord to my building was having a heart attack and required my assistance.”
“Hmmm. So, your plan now is to avoid your parents for the rest of your life? Because that’s going to require a lot of medical emergencies, so I hope you’ve studied up on them.”
F.B.’s head lowered even further, his shame unbearable. “I-I know. It’s miserable and pathetic of me. My parents have done so much for me, paying for my school and helping me get my VISA so I could work here… the least I could do is be honest with them about my… my…”
“It’s okay if you can’t find the words to describe yourself right now,” Donnie gently explained. “Or even if you never find the right words. You don’t have to be labeled, F.B., it’s not a requirement.”
F.B. nodded, though he continued to stare at the ground.
“It’s also okay if you don’t feel right telling your parents about your feelings,” Donnie continued. “Many people feel very uncomfortable talking about that even with close friends. I’m just suggesting that if you avoid talking to your parents altogether, you’ll become distanced from them in more than just a physical way. Is that what you want, F.B.?”
“No,” F.B. answered at once, shaking his head. “I-I love my parents. They’ve done so much for me. I just… I don’t want to lie to them, but I’m so frightened of telling them the truth. What if they… stop loving me?” FB quickly reached up to wipe his eyes. “I-I’ve heard so many horrible stories of people getting thrown out and disowned because of what they are and I don’t even know what I am anymore, b-but I don’t want… I don’t want to lose them…”
Donnie pushed a tissue box toward FB and allowed him a moment to calm down before he continued on. “I don’t want them to stop loving me,” he whispered, completely terrified of that possibility. “Although, maybe… maybe I deserve it for lying-”
“No one deserves to stop being loved, especially not for a reason like this,” Donnie intercut, looking more serious than usual.
“Don’t ever believe that, F.B. I can’t predict what will happen with your family, but I don’t want you to believe that you deserve any pain or poor treatment from them. You deserve to be loved, just like we all do.”
F.B. nodded, though he remained silent and worried.
“This situation is scary,” Donnie admitted, looking directly into the younger man’s fearful blue eyes. “I’ve also known families that were tragically damaged just because someone was in love with ‘the wrong person’,” he said, using air quotes and a sarcastic tone for those last few words. “But I’ve also known families whose bonds were strengthened when a truth like this was revealed. It’s not always going to end in disaster, F.B. Now, let me ask you a couple of questions: have your parents ever said any derogatory or mean things about people who aren’t exclusively straight?”
F.B. thought a moment before shaking his head a little. “I-I don’t think so.”
“Have they ever pressured you to find a girlfriend, to get married and have kids, or to ‘fit in’ more like your friends or siblings?”
“I think I was only pressured a little to do well in school and find a good job,” F.B. replied. “I mean, my mum might have said that she was excited about becoming a grandmother one day, but it’s not as if she was demanding any of us go out and have kids right away.”
“Have they ever shown any sort of… let’s say distaste towards people who were even a little bit different from them when it came to looks?”
“My parents aren’t prejudiced,” F.B. said firmly, frowning slightly now.
“Good to know,” Donnie said, not bothered at all by the stern look he was receiving.
“I know what you’re getting at,” F.B. said, eyes darting back to his shoes. “If they aren’t bigoted pricks about anything else, why would they be about… whatever I am? I know this, inside my head I know they probably won’t hate me, but… but what if there’s this side of them I never knew about? A secret side was hidden in me, so… couldn’t it be in them as well?”
“It’s honestly possible,” Donnie remarked, dampening F.B.’s hopes considerably. “I don’t want to make you promises I can’t keep, F.B. I can’t say for certain how your parents will react to what you might tell them, which is why I’m not going to pressure you into telling them. You can keep your feelings to yourself for as long as you need to. I just don’t want you to cut them out of your life unnecessarily.”
“I know, but… I don’t know.” F. B. sighed and tugged on a lock of his hair. “God, it’s all so confusing. I don’t know what to do at all, Donnie.”
Donnie reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small card. “Here. This has the time and location of my group sessions on it. I meet with a small number of people who are just as confused as you, F.B., to talk and share our fears and hopes. I’ve met a number of amazing people in these sessions, so I can vouch that they have worked for certain patients of mine. It’s not for everyone though, so feel free to give it a pass if it’s not for you, but I want to assure you that in these sessions, everyone is heard, everyone is supported, and everyone is loved for who they are.”
F.B. studied the small slip of paper before tucking it into his jeans. “I’ll think about it.”
Donnie nodded. “That’s all I can ask.”
----
PATIENT # 0034997-FINN BRIAN AKA F.B.
Session 12
“I, um… I talked to my parents for an hour last night.”
Donnie looked up from his notes, shocked. “Really, an hour? That’s great, F.B.!”
F.B. blushed happily. “Thanks.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Mostly about my job and my health. My mum had been growing worried since I was never around to chat for long, but I think she feels much better now knowing that I haven’t been mugged or jumped in an alley.”
“That’s what she thought? Man, this city really gets screwed over by the media,” Donnie said, causing F.B. to laugh. “Is that all you told them?” F.B. fell silent at once and Donnie set his papers aside. “It’s okay if you didn’t tell them anything else about yourself. Letting them know that you’re happy and healthy is what’s most important.”
“But I’m not happy.” F.B. leaned back into the large suede couch and crossed his arms, expression growing despondent. “When I was talking to them, I felt like I was lying the entire time, but I couldn’t find the courage within me to speak up. I always feel like that now, even during the group sessions. I just sit there, never saying a word, while the others pour their hearts out. They’re all so brave and so amazing, while I’m just pathetic. What’s the point of me even coming if I’m just going to sit there stupidly?”
“Not everyone can put their feelings into words,” Donnie tried to say, but F.B. shook his head.
“No, it’s completely my fault. I’m a spineless, weak, pitiful little fool. I can’t even be honest with myself about how I feel or who I am. But I’m sick of this, I’m so damn sick of being scared.”
Donnie watched as F.B. jumped to his feet, looking determined and slightly angry. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to say it!” F.B. declared, hurrying over to the window and pulling it up as wide as it could go. “I’m going to suck it up and say it in clear, strong words and I don’t care if the whole world hears me!” He took a deep breath of the cool night air before leaning out and screaming, as loudly as he could:
“Hello, world, this is Finnigan Brian speaking! I want to tell you something: I don’t just like girls, I also like blokes! That’s right, I’m attracted to blokes, and have been ever since I laid eyes on my chemistry partner in grade nine! I’ve tried to deny those feelings for so long, but I’m not living in fear and shame anymore! I don’t care what any of you say because I am okay with the fact that I like blokes, and I am okay with myself just as I am!”
Apple-cheeked and panting heavily, F.B. finally came back inside, his eyes twinkling as bright as the stars above.
Donnie smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “That was very impressive.” A sudden ringing of the phone on Donnie’s desk caused both of their heads to turn toward it. “And that will be Mrs. Cranley from across the street, complaining once again about noise pollution.”
“Oh!” F.B. covered his mouth in embarrassment. “I-I’m so sorry, Donnie, I wasn’t even thinking about that.”
“It’s fine, I know how to calm her down,” Donnie said with a reassuring smile. “Don’t even think about her, right now. You should be focused on how big a step you’ve taken tonight, F.B. We are definitely going to talk about it at our next session, so I’ll see you then.”
“Okay.” While Donnie picked up the phone and began sweet-talking Mrs. Cranley, F.B. picked up his coat and began preparing for the journey home, the glowing feeling in his chest not diminishing even for an instant.
----
PATIENT # 0034954-MARSHA ZIKOWSKI AKA MARZ
Session 43
“Come on, come on… yes! For once, the arrows aren’t against me,” Donnie said with a chuckle as he stepped off the metallic pad and reached for a water bottle. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath and then let’s go two out of three.”
“Nah, that’s okay,” the young woman replied, stepping off the platform as well. She ran a hand through her short hair, which was brown save for one streak of purple, before walking across the office to slump down on the couch.
Donnie looked to her curiously. “I think this is the first time I’ve beaten you at DDR where you haven’t instantly demanded a rematch. What, have you finally accepted my supremacy when it comes to all things dance-related?” he gently teased.
Marz shrugged, slouching further down on the couch, while clutching a pillow to her chest. “I’m just not feeling up to it right now, Donnie.”
Donnie frowned and settled into his chair before he leaned toward Marz, resting his hands on his knees. “How have you been feeling lately, Marz?”
Marz sighed, moving the pillow up over her face. “Not great,” she admitted, voice now muffled. “Two night ago… Sapphira called me.”
Donnie’s lips formed a thin line. “Wow. It’s been a while since you two talked, hasn’t it?”
Marz nodded, lowering the pillow to her chest so she could hug it. “About six months. She told me once that it’d be too hard to talk now that we were over, but I guess she changed her mind.”
“What did she want to talk about?”
Marz half-shrugged, closing her eyes and turning her face away from Donnie. “I don’t know. We mostly reminisced about how good things used to be,” she said, her voice growing soft and wistful. “It really was good between us once, you know. She always knew how to make me laugh and how to cheer me up when I was down, and I did the same for her. We talked about all these great trips we took, to Europe, Mexico, even across the country. I’ll always remember the winter we spent together in Florida,” she said, voice softening as she remembered. “I’d never experienced a warm, green Christmas before and before long I was growing homesick and missing my family, but Sapphira made it so much fun… she made everything so much fun. I don’t know why… it all had to end.”
“You know why,” Donnie replied softly. “She was interested in doing things you weren’t, Marz.”
“I know.” Marz reached up, wiping away the tear that had escaped down her cheek. “She brought up the idea of us getting together again, but she still wants it to be an open relationship. I don’t know why she started feeling this way. It’s like one day, we were on the same page, and then the next, I was still there, but she’d jumped ahead into a chapter I would never be able to reach.” She glanced miserably to Donnie. “I just… I can’t do an open relationship, Donnie.”
“That’s okay, Marz. You shouldn’t be in a relationship where you don’t feel comfortable.”
Marz sighed. “I know, but for a little while I considered it. I know it’s a mistake, but… but I just miss her so much.”
Marz buried her face in the pillow once again, shuddering lightly as she cried, and Donnie moved to grab a few tissues for her.
“I’m sorry you’re feeling so lonely, Marz,” he told her. “But I think it’s for the best that you stand firm with your beliefs for now. If Sapphira can’t agree to meet your needs in a relationship, then you’re better off looking for someone who can.”
Marz wiped her eyes, letting the pillow fall to the floor. “If there is anyone like that, you mean.”
Donnie frowned. “What do you mean, Marz? You’re a smart, funny, creative, and fun young woman. If you’re looking for a partner, then you have a lot to offer, so there’s a great chance of you finding someone.”
Marz shook her head. “I don’t think I can believe that anymore, Donnie. It’s been six months since she left and not one woman has looked my way. I end up sitting home every night, thinking about the times we were together… and how I probably passed up my one chance for love.”
“Marz, do you really believe that people only get one chance for love?” Donnie asked, dismayed.
Once again, Marz offered a half-shrug. “Maybe. Before I met Sapphira, my life was pretty crappy. When she loved me, things got better and I felt happy for the first time. Now, life’s pretty crappy again. That seems like a pretty clear message that I screwed up my chance at happiness.”
“Well I sure don’t believe that,” Donnie replied, tone determined. “People are fragile and easily broken, and they can just as easily break others, but once you’ve been hurt it doesn’t mean you’ve been permanently destroyed. You are not unworthy of love, Marz. You’re a little worn and torn right now, but with time and with support, I know you can get back up and see things clearly again. You’ll see that there are still many chances out there for happiness and love.”
“Mmm.” Marz didn’t seem to be entirely agreeable, but at the least she had calmed down.
“Let’s try to talk about some of the more positive things going on in your life,” Donnie suggested, hoping a change of topics would improve his patient’s mood. “How’s your friend Nellie doing? If I recall correctly, she was asking you to move in with her.”
Marz nodded. “Yeah, she asked me again about it a few days ago.”
“What did you tell her, Marz?”
Marz sighed. “I don’t know. She’s been asking me this for a few weeks now, since her roommate is getting married soon and she needs help with the rent. I’ve been blowing her off because the thought of leaving the home Sapphira and I shared… our safe haven from the world... was too much to even think about.” Marz sighed once again and Donnie feared her tears would start anew, but to his relief Marz simply rubbed her eyes tiredly. “I know that’s not what it is anymore. It’s not a peaceful retreat for the two of us now; it’s just a painful reminder of what used to be. So I think I will take her up on her offer.”
“I think that sounds like a great idea,” Donnie agreed. “Spending more time with a friend might help you remember just how great a person you really are, Marz. Let me know when the big event happens and I’ll send you some house-warming cookies.”
Marz laughed. “I thought therapists weren’t allowed to offer their patients gifts.”
Donnie pouted and turned away. “Fine, no cookies for you then.”
“Aw, but I love cookies.”
“Then I hope your new roommate knows how to bake.”
The two shared a laugh and the conversation continued down a more cheerful path for the rest of the session.
----
PATIENT # 0034997-FINN BRIAN AKA F.B.
Session 19
Donnie looked up from his desk with a smile when F.B. walked into the room. “Good, you’re here. Guess what I just got on Blu-ray?”
“I told them.”
“No, it was-” Donnie froze then, taking in what his patient had just said. “Wait, are you serious?”
F.B. nodded, his body trembling the slightest bit. “Yes. Last night we had this lovely dinner together and we went for a drive so I could show them this wonderful city, and we were talking and laughing and so very happy and it just… slipped out of my mouth, I guess.”
“What did you say?” Donnie wondered.
“Um, well, they asked if I had started any relationships here and I said I had been chatting up a person who lives in the flat two floors below mine… who was called Nicholas.”
Donnie’s mouth opened slightly in shock. “Wow, you laid it straight out for them. Oh, uh, sorry, bad choice of words.”
F.B. chuckled and shook his head. “It’s alright.”
“So, how did they react to that bit of information?”
F.B. blushed slightly. “Well, they were quiet for a moment and I admit, I did get nervous, before my mum said… she said… ‘Well, if that’s who makes you happy, then I want you to be happy, son’.” F.B.’s smile was stretched so widely now that his cheeks must have been aching, but he didn’t notice at all. “And my dad, well, he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but he just shrugged and said, ‘It’s not my business what you do. You have a steady job and a good home here, so just be careful, that’s all I can ask for’.” F.B. paused to wipe the tears which had sprung up in his eyes. “You were right, Donnie. I shouldn’t have avoided them for so long. I was so worried about them not loving me b-but they really do love me, even after knowing this. They… they love me…”
“I’m so happy things turned out this well for you, F.B.,” Donnie said, smiling widely at him. “It warms my heart to know you can be honest with your family now.”
“Thanks.” While F.B. was wiping his face clean with tissues, a sudden rapid-fire knocking on the door caused both men to jump.
“Who the hell is that?” Donnie muttered as he walked toward the door, opening it a little so he could peek outside. “Yes, what is it?”
“I’m here for my appointment,” a somewhat agitated sounding male voice replied. It came from a short, bespectacled man with dark, slicked back hair, a goatee, and a scowl so deep it dampened Donnie’s good mood immediately.
Donnie frowned and glanced at the time. “You must be my seven-o-clock. I’m sorry to ask you to wait, but seeing as it’s only 6:15, I still have forty-five minutes left with another-”
“So what, you expect me to stand around outside, just waiting to get mugged?” the man retorted.
Donnie’s frown grew more pronounced. “Of course not. You can sit out in the lobby until I’m done with my current patient.”
“Actually, Donnie, my parents wanted to go on another sight-seeing tour this evening, and I was going to ask if we could cut our session short today,” F.B. chimed in from the couch, “so it wouldn’t bother me at all if we ended things already.”
Donnie looked back at him uncertainly, closing the door on the scowling man. “Are you sure?” F.B. nodded and jumped to his feet.
“I’ve already told you my good news. I haven’t anything to worry about anymore,” F.B. happily decreed. “Well, that is, not until Nicholas and I officially have our first date. I might become quite terrified then so I’ll probably need an extra-long session with you if that happens.”
“I’ll pencil you in for as long as you need,” Donnie assured him with a grin. “Alright, I’ll see you next week then, F.B.”
F.B. nodded and smiled before he walked out the door. Donnie watched him leave with a proud expression before he caught sight of the scowling man, whose glower seemed to be growing stronger with each passing minute. “Okay, come on in. I’m going to need a few minutes to access your file, so feel free to have a look around.”
-----
PATIENT # 0035011-CLINTON SNUBB AKA C.S.
Session 1
“Alright, let’s see here.” Donnie sank into his chair, flipping through a moderate sized case-file on his lap. “You were referred to me by Dr. Copenhagen… he says you like to go by C.S. Heh, as in Lewis?” he joked, glancing at the man who was now studying his movie shelves with an inscrutable gaze.
“As in ‘cut the shit’ before I sue you for incompetence,” C.S. snapped. Donnie’s eye twitched, but he forced his smile to remain in place.
“Heh, good one.” C.S. didn’t reply. “See any movies you’re interested in?”
“I’m only interested in foreign works and arthouse films, thank you very much. Most of this shit is unwatchable.”
Donnie’s entire face began to twitch just then, but after pinching his cheeks he managed to calm himself down once again. In his ten years of practice, he had yet to let a patient get the better of him. “Well then, why don’t we get right down to business? From Dr. Copenhagen’s notes, it seems you’ve been seeing him because of insomnia for the past year.”
“Yes, and I finally got that under control a few months ago,” C.S. replied. “But then I started having these fucking nightmares that made me terrified to even think about sleeping again. Fucking ironic, isn’t it?”
“Nightmares, huh?” Donnie asked, wrinkling his brow a little in confusion. “Well, is it alright if I ask you to sit down and tell me about them?” C.S. sighed and reluctantly approached the couch.
“I can’t believe Dr. Copenhagen passed me off like I’m some fucking football or something. I’ve been going to him forever. Why the hell is he abandoning me now for some weirdo like you?”
“None taken,” Donnie replied with a roll of his eyes, though afterwards his face did grow more sympathetic. “And it’s not that he wanted to abandon you, it’s just that he felt like I would be able to help you better now because of the area I specialize in.”
C.S. looked at him skeptically. “You know how to stop nightmares?”
“It would help if I know more about them,” Donnie suggested.
C.S. sighed once again and crossed one leg over the other. “Fine. They started a few weeks ago, but don’t ask me what the date was exactly because I don’t fucking remember. Anyway, in the first one, I was watching some shitty movie with my friend, Phillip, like we always do when we hang out, and before I knew it I… I murdered him.”
Donnie’s brows rose slightly but he kept silent as he scribbled something onto a pad.
“I always murder him,” C.S. continued, lines of worry and distress quickly covering his face. “I don’t fucking get it. He’s my best fucking friend, one of the only friends I even have, so why? Why do I keep killing him in these fucking dreams?”
“Dreams are not usually literal expressions of our desires,” Donnie tried to explain in the hopes of calming down the perturbed man. “Dreaming about killing a friend does not mean you want him dead in reality.”
C.S. looked to him in disbelief. “Then tell me, doctor, why the fuck would I dream about forcing his mouth open and shoving a giant fucking banana down his throat until he choked to death? Who would fucking dream that about someone they don’t fucking hate?”
“Umm… wow.” Donnie quickly wrote something else onto his notes before he looked to Snob curiously. “Listen, do you always kill him in the same way, or are there other methods?”
“There’s more than one,” C.S. admitted glumly. “Sometimes I shove a bottle rocket down his pants and watch until it explodes. Sometimes I tie him to a bed and torture him with melting candles and whips, laughing with delight as he screams and moans for mercy; other times I run him through with swords and blades, and what’s really fucked up about those dreams is how he never bleeds, he just kind of oozes this sticky white salad dressing shit or something. And once I… I even made him kneel down and lick this gun I was holding before I… I pulled the trigger…”
C.S. buried his face in his hands, overcome with disgust and shame, while Donnie lowered his pad and leaned closer to him.
“C.S., please, calm down. I promise you, these dreams, while admittedly disturbing, do not mean you want to kill your friend.”
“They don’t?” C.S. peeked through his fingers, watching as Donnie shook his head.
“No, but I do think they represent some strong feelings you’ve been having. I think I understand now why Dr. Copenhagen recommended me for you,” he added with a wry smile before he turned his gaze toward the other man. “Now, C.S., I want to ask you: how long have you had these feelings for Phillip?”
“Feelings?” C.S. asked, confused? “If you mean how long have we been friends, then a few years.”
“No, I’m sorry, I meant how long have you had romantic or sexual feelings for him?” Donnie clarified.
C.S. stared at him blankly. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m straight. I mean yeah, it’s been a long time since I’ve dated a woman, or even felt the desire to since people have gotten unbelievably annoying lately, but I’m straight. That’s the default setting for people, right?”
“No, that’s incredibly wrong,” Donnie replied, staring at C.S. in annoyance. “There is no default setting for people, so please don’t ever say that again.”
“Fine, whatever.” C.S. seemed to realize something then and his cheeks reddened while his eyes narrowed. “Wait, are you trying to imply that I’m gay now? I don’t know what kind of shit you’re trying to pull here but I don’t like it!”
“I’m not trying to pull anything,” Donnie insisted as he leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin pensively and trying to figure out the best course of action to take here. “I’m just trying to understand your situation. So then, you’ve… never felt any sort of attraction to a man?” he asked slowly a moment later.
“No!” C.S. insisted, bristling at the suggestion. “I told you, I don’t have many friends because I fucking hate people, men and women both! I can barely tolerate being around anyone besides Phillip!”
“But you do like Phillip, right?”
“Of course I like him!” C.S. snapped. “Phil isn’t a fucking idiot and he’s not trying to use me for his own personal gain like everyone else out there. He’s smart and nice and he really gives a damn about me… he’s one of the only people I trust… and we do have similar tastes in movies and video games, so hanging out is really fun.” C.S. seemed to calm down the longer he spoke, his whole demeanor lightening and his scowl vanishing completely. “He spends the night at least once a week and he doesn’t even care that I only have a tiny pull-out sofa bed for him to stay on. He even cooks breakfast for me when he stays, and does shopping or chores to help me out. Sometime when I’m feeling stressed, he’ll even give me a massage… wait.”
C.S. slowly looked over to Donnie, who was doing his damnedest to not laugh at the moment. “W-what?” he asked, biting down on his tongue when he realized his patient’s entire face had turned a vibrant shade of red.
“Th-that doesn’t mean anything! Guys can give each other massages, it doesn’t mean they’re gay! And guys can wrestle around and sometimes get hard because of it, b-because that’s just what guys do! It happens, it’s fucking natural! Just like it’s natural to sneak a look if he’s stepping into the shower or getting changed in front… of… you…”
Donnie jabbed the end of his pen into his leg several times, hoping the wince this caused would mask the lightness he felt. “Y-yes, curiosity is a perfectly natural and human feeling,” he agreed, the pain in his thigh doing just enough to squelch the laughter threatening to bubble up inside him.
“So… so yeah… natural,” C.S. repeated slowly, his eyes closing as he seemed to fall into a state of deep reflection. “So those dreams… you think they’re because I… I want to fuck Phillip?”
“I can’t say that for sure,” Donnie answered calmly, “but if I had to guess… yes.” He observed how his patient reacted to this assumption, but C.S. only sat stone still for several minutes. “Look, I know this must be very confusing for you,” Donnie said, slipping back into his more professional tone, “but I want to help you come to understand what your feelings mean. I think we can-what are you doing?”
Donnie watched in surprise as C.S. suddenly pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call. “Phil? Hey, it’s me. Want to come over tonight? I’ve got something to ask you. Okay, see you later.” Once finished with the call, C.S. pocketed the phone again and stood up. “Thanks for the help, doctor, but I’ve gotta get going.”
“Wait, what the hell?” Donnie asked, standing up as well. “Where are you going? We still have half a session left.”
“I figured it out,” C.S. replied calmly. “I had the nightmares because I want to fuck Phillip. So if I fuck Phillip, the nightmares will stop, right?”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Donnie insisted.
“Well, if that doesn’t work I’ll come back and you can see me for free to make up for the shitty advice you gave me this time.”
“I am not advising you to do anything!” Donnie snapped. “Please, just sit down and let’s talk some more.”
“Can’t. I have a date tonight, so I have to get ready,” C.S. said, a smile already sliding into place.
“Aren’t you at all bothered about the fact that you just now realized you have feelings for a man?” Donnie wondered incredulously. “And not just any man, but one who happens to be your close friend?”
C.S. shrugged. “For the longest time, I started to believe I wouldn’t have feelings for anyone again. So this… this actually makes me feel happy.”
Donnie blinked in surprise, and could not come up with a decent response that would persuade him to stay.
“I’ll be seeing you, doctor,” C.S. repeated as he walked out into the hallway and pushed for the elevator. “Or I won’t. Which would be preferable, actually.”
Donnie watched as the oddest patient he’d ever had disappeared behind thick silver doors before he returned to his office, laid down on the couch usually reserved for his clients, and took a nice, calming nap.
Author: Ocelot_l
Characters: Rebecca, Donnie, Tacoma, Todd, Lupa, Harvey, Tara, Film Brain, Marzgurl, Cinema Snob, Maven, Quinn
Pairings: Todd/Lupa, Harvey/Tara, past Marzgurl/Hagan, implied Cinema Snob/Phelous
Summary: Rebecca, Donnie, and Tacoma are all therapists at the Blue Patches Counseling Center. They specialize in different areas but all share the same goal of helping their clients lead happier, healthier lives.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Bad Language, Dark Themes, Depression, Self-Harm, Blood, Suicide Attempt
Word Count: 15,771
Notes: The names of all the producers have been changed in this story, since Demo Reel was set in an alternate universe, but hopefully I've done enough to make the characters recognizable despite the name changes. I hope you enjoy!
PATIENT # 0034997-FINN BRIAN AKA F.B.
Session 1
The young man peered around the room with wide, surprised eyes. There was a couch, a few chairs, and a desk as he’d expected, but against the back wall stood several different arcade games, while the remaining three walls were covered with movie posters, shelves of various DVDs and books, and a flat-screen TV.
“This is a doctor’s office?” he murmured, scratching his chin as he wondered if perhaps he had walked into the wrong building by mistake.
“It sure is,” a cheerful voice said from behind him, causing the young man to jump. “Sorry to startle you,” the other man apologized as he flashed a pearly-white grin. “I’m Dr. Donald DuPre, though you can call me Donnie if you’d prefer. I presume you’re my six-o-clock?”
“Oh, um, yes,” the young man replied, nodding.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Donnie said, extending his hand to him. “Now, is there anything you like to be called in particular? A lot of people like to go by a nickname or even their initials here, and that’s totally cool with me.”
“Er, um, then my initials should be fine. In that case, I’m F.B.,” the young man said, tentatively shaking Donnie’s hand.
“Righty-o then. Why don’t you come in and have a look around, F.B.,” Donnie said, gesturing for his client to move further into the room. “By the way, love your accent.”
“Oh, thank you,” F.B. said with a bit of a smile. “I’ve only been in the States for a few months but I’m always getting compliments on how posh and sophisticated I sound. If only they knew the truth,” he muttered under his breath as he ran a hand nervously through his hair. If Donnie heard him, he made no notice of it as he headed toward his desk and began organizing some papers.
F.B. did as suggested and took a slow saunter around the room, pausing to marvel at how many video games could actually fit inside a moderately sized office, before his eyes became fixated on the massive movie collection displayed before him. “Look at all these classics,” he whispered, touching their covers with one finger almost reverently. “The entire Criterion collection is here, along with the works of Sir Guinness and Bogey-”
“Don’t forget Hitchcock,” Donnie said, suddenly appearing beside the younger man. “I can’t get enough of his works.”
“Oh, I completely agree,” F.B. said, smiling a little for the first time since arriving. The two began to chat about classic horror films, which segued into classic films in general, and before F.B. realized it, an hour had passed and his session was over. “I can’t believe it,” he said, double-checking his watch just to be certain it hadn’t stopped working. “We’ve been talking for an hour about nothing.”
“I wouldn’t call our great debate on ‘Wilder or Depp-Who Wore it Better?’ nothing,” Donnie joked as he reached up to adjust his glasses. “But to get serious for a bit, this session went just as I’d hoped. I like to use my first sessions to get to know my clients in a more casual manner before we get into any heavy stuff, and I think I really got to know a lot about you, F.B.”
“Did you now?” F.B. lowered his head, his mood visibly dropping. “It’s funny you can say that, since I… I feel like I don’t know anything about myself anymore.” Donnie looked on sympathetically as the young man seemed to be on the verge of tears. “It’s so stupid but I feel like I’m lost and… and I don’t know who I am. I used to know, or at least I thought I knew, but now… I don’t know anything now. I wish… I wish I could change back to who I used to be… or maybe if you know, you could tell me who I am now?” He looked up to Donnie, eyes wide with hope.
“I understand how confusing it feels when the pieces of your life you thought you understood start to change,” Donnie said calmly. “It’s not always easy to live with these new feelings, but I promise you, F.B., that I’m going to help you come to terms with what you’re feeling inside. And one day, you’re going to look in the mirror and know exactly who you are again.”
F.B. nodded but remained silent, not convinced at all that the doctor’s carefree words could be so easily achieved.
----
PATIENT # 0034997-FINN BRIAN AKA. F.B.
Session 6
“Here, Donnie.” Donnie smiled as F.B. handed him back the DVD.
“You watched it? What did you think? Wasn’t it amazing?”
F.B. nodded. “I really loved the chemistry between the leading characters, and the effects were spectacular.”
“No, I mean Miss Zeta-Jones. Didn’t she look unbelievable in that dress?”
F.B. laughed and rubbed his chin. “I should have known that’s what you meant. Yes, I suppose she was lovely as always.”
“I’m so happy I know another film buff with impeccable taste,” Donnie said, chuckling as well while the two took their seats.
“Now, let’s move onto other matters. I remember you telling me last week that you were expecting a call from your parents two nights ago How did that go, F.B.?”
“Oh, that.” F.B. hunched down on the couch a little, fidgeting a bit awkwardly and casually avoiding meeting Donnie’s gaze. “I, um, well I didn’t get to talk to them for long, since, you know, there’s quite a time difference between here and Britain, and since these overseas calls are quite, um, expensive and all.”
“Uh huh,” Donnie said, expression suddenly growing skeptical. “How long exactly did you speak with them?”
F.B. blushed. “Two minutes, before I pretended the landlord to my building was having a heart attack and required my assistance.”
“Hmmm. So, your plan now is to avoid your parents for the rest of your life? Because that’s going to require a lot of medical emergencies, so I hope you’ve studied up on them.”
F.B.’s head lowered even further, his shame unbearable. “I-I know. It’s miserable and pathetic of me. My parents have done so much for me, paying for my school and helping me get my VISA so I could work here… the least I could do is be honest with them about my… my…”
“It’s okay if you can’t find the words to describe yourself right now,” Donnie gently explained. “Or even if you never find the right words. You don’t have to be labeled, F.B., it’s not a requirement.”
F.B. nodded, though he continued to stare at the ground.
“It’s also okay if you don’t feel right telling your parents about your feelings,” Donnie continued. “Many people feel very uncomfortable talking about that even with close friends. I’m just suggesting that if you avoid talking to your parents altogether, you’ll become distanced from them in more than just a physical way. Is that what you want, F.B.?”
“No,” F.B. answered at once, shaking his head. “I-I love my parents. They’ve done so much for me. I just… I don’t want to lie to them, but I’m so frightened of telling them the truth. What if they… stop loving me?” FB quickly reached up to wipe his eyes. “I-I’ve heard so many horrible stories of people getting thrown out and disowned because of what they are and I don’t even know what I am anymore, b-but I don’t want… I don’t want to lose them…”
Donnie pushed a tissue box toward FB and allowed him a moment to calm down before he continued on. “I don’t want them to stop loving me,” he whispered, completely terrified of that possibility. “Although, maybe… maybe I deserve it for lying-”
“No one deserves to stop being loved, especially not for a reason like this,” Donnie intercut, looking more serious than usual.
“Don’t ever believe that, F.B. I can’t predict what will happen with your family, but I don’t want you to believe that you deserve any pain or poor treatment from them. You deserve to be loved, just like we all do.”
F.B. nodded, though he remained silent and worried.
“This situation is scary,” Donnie admitted, looking directly into the younger man’s fearful blue eyes. “I’ve also known families that were tragically damaged just because someone was in love with ‘the wrong person’,” he said, using air quotes and a sarcastic tone for those last few words. “But I’ve also known families whose bonds were strengthened when a truth like this was revealed. It’s not always going to end in disaster, F.B. Now, let me ask you a couple of questions: have your parents ever said any derogatory or mean things about people who aren’t exclusively straight?”
F.B. thought a moment before shaking his head a little. “I-I don’t think so.”
“Have they ever pressured you to find a girlfriend, to get married and have kids, or to ‘fit in’ more like your friends or siblings?”
“I think I was only pressured a little to do well in school and find a good job,” F.B. replied. “I mean, my mum might have said that she was excited about becoming a grandmother one day, but it’s not as if she was demanding any of us go out and have kids right away.”
“Have they ever shown any sort of… let’s say distaste towards people who were even a little bit different from them when it came to looks?”
“My parents aren’t prejudiced,” F.B. said firmly, frowning slightly now.
“Good to know,” Donnie said, not bothered at all by the stern look he was receiving.
“I know what you’re getting at,” F.B. said, eyes darting back to his shoes. “If they aren’t bigoted pricks about anything else, why would they be about… whatever I am? I know this, inside my head I know they probably won’t hate me, but… but what if there’s this side of them I never knew about? A secret side was hidden in me, so… couldn’t it be in them as well?”
“It’s honestly possible,” Donnie remarked, dampening F.B.’s hopes considerably. “I don’t want to make you promises I can’t keep, F.B. I can’t say for certain how your parents will react to what you might tell them, which is why I’m not going to pressure you into telling them. You can keep your feelings to yourself for as long as you need to. I just don’t want you to cut them out of your life unnecessarily.”
“I know, but… I don’t know.” F. B. sighed and tugged on a lock of his hair. “God, it’s all so confusing. I don’t know what to do at all, Donnie.”
Donnie reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small card. “Here. This has the time and location of my group sessions on it. I meet with a small number of people who are just as confused as you, F.B., to talk and share our fears and hopes. I’ve met a number of amazing people in these sessions, so I can vouch that they have worked for certain patients of mine. It’s not for everyone though, so feel free to give it a pass if it’s not for you, but I want to assure you that in these sessions, everyone is heard, everyone is supported, and everyone is loved for who they are.”
F.B. studied the small slip of paper before tucking it into his jeans. “I’ll think about it.”
Donnie nodded. “That’s all I can ask.”
----
PATIENT # 0034997-FINN BRIAN AKA F.B.
Session 12
“I, um… I talked to my parents for an hour last night.”
Donnie looked up from his notes, shocked. “Really, an hour? That’s great, F.B.!”
F.B. blushed happily. “Thanks.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Mostly about my job and my health. My mum had been growing worried since I was never around to chat for long, but I think she feels much better now knowing that I haven’t been mugged or jumped in an alley.”
“That’s what she thought? Man, this city really gets screwed over by the media,” Donnie said, causing F.B. to laugh. “Is that all you told them?” F.B. fell silent at once and Donnie set his papers aside. “It’s okay if you didn’t tell them anything else about yourself. Letting them know that you’re happy and healthy is what’s most important.”
“But I’m not happy.” F.B. leaned back into the large suede couch and crossed his arms, expression growing despondent. “When I was talking to them, I felt like I was lying the entire time, but I couldn’t find the courage within me to speak up. I always feel like that now, even during the group sessions. I just sit there, never saying a word, while the others pour their hearts out. They’re all so brave and so amazing, while I’m just pathetic. What’s the point of me even coming if I’m just going to sit there stupidly?”
“Not everyone can put their feelings into words,” Donnie tried to say, but F.B. shook his head.
“No, it’s completely my fault. I’m a spineless, weak, pitiful little fool. I can’t even be honest with myself about how I feel or who I am. But I’m sick of this, I’m so damn sick of being scared.”
Donnie watched as F.B. jumped to his feet, looking determined and slightly angry. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to say it!” F.B. declared, hurrying over to the window and pulling it up as wide as it could go. “I’m going to suck it up and say it in clear, strong words and I don’t care if the whole world hears me!” He took a deep breath of the cool night air before leaning out and screaming, as loudly as he could:
“Hello, world, this is Finnigan Brian speaking! I want to tell you something: I don’t just like girls, I also like blokes! That’s right, I’m attracted to blokes, and have been ever since I laid eyes on my chemistry partner in grade nine! I’ve tried to deny those feelings for so long, but I’m not living in fear and shame anymore! I don’t care what any of you say because I am okay with the fact that I like blokes, and I am okay with myself just as I am!”
Apple-cheeked and panting heavily, F.B. finally came back inside, his eyes twinkling as bright as the stars above.
Donnie smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “That was very impressive.” A sudden ringing of the phone on Donnie’s desk caused both of their heads to turn toward it. “And that will be Mrs. Cranley from across the street, complaining once again about noise pollution.”
“Oh!” F.B. covered his mouth in embarrassment. “I-I’m so sorry, Donnie, I wasn’t even thinking about that.”
“It’s fine, I know how to calm her down,” Donnie said with a reassuring smile. “Don’t even think about her, right now. You should be focused on how big a step you’ve taken tonight, F.B. We are definitely going to talk about it at our next session, so I’ll see you then.”
“Okay.” While Donnie picked up the phone and began sweet-talking Mrs. Cranley, F.B. picked up his coat and began preparing for the journey home, the glowing feeling in his chest not diminishing even for an instant.
----
PATIENT # 0034954-MARSHA ZIKOWSKI AKA MARZ
Session 43
“Come on, come on… yes! For once, the arrows aren’t against me,” Donnie said with a chuckle as he stepped off the metallic pad and reached for a water bottle. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath and then let’s go two out of three.”
“Nah, that’s okay,” the young woman replied, stepping off the platform as well. She ran a hand through her short hair, which was brown save for one streak of purple, before walking across the office to slump down on the couch.
Donnie looked to her curiously. “I think this is the first time I’ve beaten you at DDR where you haven’t instantly demanded a rematch. What, have you finally accepted my supremacy when it comes to all things dance-related?” he gently teased.
Marz shrugged, slouching further down on the couch, while clutching a pillow to her chest. “I’m just not feeling up to it right now, Donnie.”
Donnie frowned and settled into his chair before he leaned toward Marz, resting his hands on his knees. “How have you been feeling lately, Marz?”
Marz sighed, moving the pillow up over her face. “Not great,” she admitted, voice now muffled. “Two night ago… Sapphira called me.”
Donnie’s lips formed a thin line. “Wow. It’s been a while since you two talked, hasn’t it?”
Marz nodded, lowering the pillow to her chest so she could hug it. “About six months. She told me once that it’d be too hard to talk now that we were over, but I guess she changed her mind.”
“What did she want to talk about?”
Marz half-shrugged, closing her eyes and turning her face away from Donnie. “I don’t know. We mostly reminisced about how good things used to be,” she said, her voice growing soft and wistful. “It really was good between us once, you know. She always knew how to make me laugh and how to cheer me up when I was down, and I did the same for her. We talked about all these great trips we took, to Europe, Mexico, even across the country. I’ll always remember the winter we spent together in Florida,” she said, voice softening as she remembered. “I’d never experienced a warm, green Christmas before and before long I was growing homesick and missing my family, but Sapphira made it so much fun… she made everything so much fun. I don’t know why… it all had to end.”
“You know why,” Donnie replied softly. “She was interested in doing things you weren’t, Marz.”
“I know.” Marz reached up, wiping away the tear that had escaped down her cheek. “She brought up the idea of us getting together again, but she still wants it to be an open relationship. I don’t know why she started feeling this way. It’s like one day, we were on the same page, and then the next, I was still there, but she’d jumped ahead into a chapter I would never be able to reach.” She glanced miserably to Donnie. “I just… I can’t do an open relationship, Donnie.”
“That’s okay, Marz. You shouldn’t be in a relationship where you don’t feel comfortable.”
Marz sighed. “I know, but for a little while I considered it. I know it’s a mistake, but… but I just miss her so much.”
Marz buried her face in the pillow once again, shuddering lightly as she cried, and Donnie moved to grab a few tissues for her.
“I’m sorry you’re feeling so lonely, Marz,” he told her. “But I think it’s for the best that you stand firm with your beliefs for now. If Sapphira can’t agree to meet your needs in a relationship, then you’re better off looking for someone who can.”
Marz wiped her eyes, letting the pillow fall to the floor. “If there is anyone like that, you mean.”
Donnie frowned. “What do you mean, Marz? You’re a smart, funny, creative, and fun young woman. If you’re looking for a partner, then you have a lot to offer, so there’s a great chance of you finding someone.”
Marz shook her head. “I don’t think I can believe that anymore, Donnie. It’s been six months since she left and not one woman has looked my way. I end up sitting home every night, thinking about the times we were together… and how I probably passed up my one chance for love.”
“Marz, do you really believe that people only get one chance for love?” Donnie asked, dismayed.
Once again, Marz offered a half-shrug. “Maybe. Before I met Sapphira, my life was pretty crappy. When she loved me, things got better and I felt happy for the first time. Now, life’s pretty crappy again. That seems like a pretty clear message that I screwed up my chance at happiness.”
“Well I sure don’t believe that,” Donnie replied, tone determined. “People are fragile and easily broken, and they can just as easily break others, but once you’ve been hurt it doesn’t mean you’ve been permanently destroyed. You are not unworthy of love, Marz. You’re a little worn and torn right now, but with time and with support, I know you can get back up and see things clearly again. You’ll see that there are still many chances out there for happiness and love.”
“Mmm.” Marz didn’t seem to be entirely agreeable, but at the least she had calmed down.
“Let’s try to talk about some of the more positive things going on in your life,” Donnie suggested, hoping a change of topics would improve his patient’s mood. “How’s your friend Nellie doing? If I recall correctly, she was asking you to move in with her.”
Marz nodded. “Yeah, she asked me again about it a few days ago.”
“What did you tell her, Marz?”
Marz sighed. “I don’t know. She’s been asking me this for a few weeks now, since her roommate is getting married soon and she needs help with the rent. I’ve been blowing her off because the thought of leaving the home Sapphira and I shared… our safe haven from the world... was too much to even think about.” Marz sighed once again and Donnie feared her tears would start anew, but to his relief Marz simply rubbed her eyes tiredly. “I know that’s not what it is anymore. It’s not a peaceful retreat for the two of us now; it’s just a painful reminder of what used to be. So I think I will take her up on her offer.”
“I think that sounds like a great idea,” Donnie agreed. “Spending more time with a friend might help you remember just how great a person you really are, Marz. Let me know when the big event happens and I’ll send you some house-warming cookies.”
Marz laughed. “I thought therapists weren’t allowed to offer their patients gifts.”
Donnie pouted and turned away. “Fine, no cookies for you then.”
“Aw, but I love cookies.”
“Then I hope your new roommate knows how to bake.”
The two shared a laugh and the conversation continued down a more cheerful path for the rest of the session.
----
PATIENT # 0034997-FINN BRIAN AKA F.B.
Session 19
Donnie looked up from his desk with a smile when F.B. walked into the room. “Good, you’re here. Guess what I just got on Blu-ray?”
“I told them.”
“No, it was-” Donnie froze then, taking in what his patient had just said. “Wait, are you serious?”
F.B. nodded, his body trembling the slightest bit. “Yes. Last night we had this lovely dinner together and we went for a drive so I could show them this wonderful city, and we were talking and laughing and so very happy and it just… slipped out of my mouth, I guess.”
“What did you say?” Donnie wondered.
“Um, well, they asked if I had started any relationships here and I said I had been chatting up a person who lives in the flat two floors below mine… who was called Nicholas.”
Donnie’s mouth opened slightly in shock. “Wow, you laid it straight out for them. Oh, uh, sorry, bad choice of words.”
F.B. chuckled and shook his head. “It’s alright.”
“So, how did they react to that bit of information?”
F.B. blushed slightly. “Well, they were quiet for a moment and I admit, I did get nervous, before my mum said… she said… ‘Well, if that’s who makes you happy, then I want you to be happy, son’.” F.B.’s smile was stretched so widely now that his cheeks must have been aching, but he didn’t notice at all. “And my dad, well, he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but he just shrugged and said, ‘It’s not my business what you do. You have a steady job and a good home here, so just be careful, that’s all I can ask for’.” F.B. paused to wipe the tears which had sprung up in his eyes. “You were right, Donnie. I shouldn’t have avoided them for so long. I was so worried about them not loving me b-but they really do love me, even after knowing this. They… they love me…”
“I’m so happy things turned out this well for you, F.B.,” Donnie said, smiling widely at him. “It warms my heart to know you can be honest with your family now.”
“Thanks.” While F.B. was wiping his face clean with tissues, a sudden rapid-fire knocking on the door caused both men to jump.
“Who the hell is that?” Donnie muttered as he walked toward the door, opening it a little so he could peek outside. “Yes, what is it?”
“I’m here for my appointment,” a somewhat agitated sounding male voice replied. It came from a short, bespectacled man with dark, slicked back hair, a goatee, and a scowl so deep it dampened Donnie’s good mood immediately.
Donnie frowned and glanced at the time. “You must be my seven-o-clock. I’m sorry to ask you to wait, but seeing as it’s only 6:15, I still have forty-five minutes left with another-”
“So what, you expect me to stand around outside, just waiting to get mugged?” the man retorted.
Donnie’s frown grew more pronounced. “Of course not. You can sit out in the lobby until I’m done with my current patient.”
“Actually, Donnie, my parents wanted to go on another sight-seeing tour this evening, and I was going to ask if we could cut our session short today,” F.B. chimed in from the couch, “so it wouldn’t bother me at all if we ended things already.”
Donnie looked back at him uncertainly, closing the door on the scowling man. “Are you sure?” F.B. nodded and jumped to his feet.
“I’ve already told you my good news. I haven’t anything to worry about anymore,” F.B. happily decreed. “Well, that is, not until Nicholas and I officially have our first date. I might become quite terrified then so I’ll probably need an extra-long session with you if that happens.”
“I’ll pencil you in for as long as you need,” Donnie assured him with a grin. “Alright, I’ll see you next week then, F.B.”
F.B. nodded and smiled before he walked out the door. Donnie watched him leave with a proud expression before he caught sight of the scowling man, whose glower seemed to be growing stronger with each passing minute. “Okay, come on in. I’m going to need a few minutes to access your file, so feel free to have a look around.”
-----
PATIENT # 0035011-CLINTON SNUBB AKA C.S.
Session 1
“Alright, let’s see here.” Donnie sank into his chair, flipping through a moderate sized case-file on his lap. “You were referred to me by Dr. Copenhagen… he says you like to go by C.S. Heh, as in Lewis?” he joked, glancing at the man who was now studying his movie shelves with an inscrutable gaze.
“As in ‘cut the shit’ before I sue you for incompetence,” C.S. snapped. Donnie’s eye twitched, but he forced his smile to remain in place.
“Heh, good one.” C.S. didn’t reply. “See any movies you’re interested in?”
“I’m only interested in foreign works and arthouse films, thank you very much. Most of this shit is unwatchable.”
Donnie’s entire face began to twitch just then, but after pinching his cheeks he managed to calm himself down once again. In his ten years of practice, he had yet to let a patient get the better of him. “Well then, why don’t we get right down to business? From Dr. Copenhagen’s notes, it seems you’ve been seeing him because of insomnia for the past year.”
“Yes, and I finally got that under control a few months ago,” C.S. replied. “But then I started having these fucking nightmares that made me terrified to even think about sleeping again. Fucking ironic, isn’t it?”
“Nightmares, huh?” Donnie asked, wrinkling his brow a little in confusion. “Well, is it alright if I ask you to sit down and tell me about them?” C.S. sighed and reluctantly approached the couch.
“I can’t believe Dr. Copenhagen passed me off like I’m some fucking football or something. I’ve been going to him forever. Why the hell is he abandoning me now for some weirdo like you?”
“None taken,” Donnie replied with a roll of his eyes, though afterwards his face did grow more sympathetic. “And it’s not that he wanted to abandon you, it’s just that he felt like I would be able to help you better now because of the area I specialize in.”
C.S. looked at him skeptically. “You know how to stop nightmares?”
“It would help if I know more about them,” Donnie suggested.
C.S. sighed once again and crossed one leg over the other. “Fine. They started a few weeks ago, but don’t ask me what the date was exactly because I don’t fucking remember. Anyway, in the first one, I was watching some shitty movie with my friend, Phillip, like we always do when we hang out, and before I knew it I… I murdered him.”
Donnie’s brows rose slightly but he kept silent as he scribbled something onto a pad.
“I always murder him,” C.S. continued, lines of worry and distress quickly covering his face. “I don’t fucking get it. He’s my best fucking friend, one of the only friends I even have, so why? Why do I keep killing him in these fucking dreams?”
“Dreams are not usually literal expressions of our desires,” Donnie tried to explain in the hopes of calming down the perturbed man. “Dreaming about killing a friend does not mean you want him dead in reality.”
C.S. looked to him in disbelief. “Then tell me, doctor, why the fuck would I dream about forcing his mouth open and shoving a giant fucking banana down his throat until he choked to death? Who would fucking dream that about someone they don’t fucking hate?”
“Umm… wow.” Donnie quickly wrote something else onto his notes before he looked to Snob curiously. “Listen, do you always kill him in the same way, or are there other methods?”
“There’s more than one,” C.S. admitted glumly. “Sometimes I shove a bottle rocket down his pants and watch until it explodes. Sometimes I tie him to a bed and torture him with melting candles and whips, laughing with delight as he screams and moans for mercy; other times I run him through with swords and blades, and what’s really fucked up about those dreams is how he never bleeds, he just kind of oozes this sticky white salad dressing shit or something. And once I… I even made him kneel down and lick this gun I was holding before I… I pulled the trigger…”
C.S. buried his face in his hands, overcome with disgust and shame, while Donnie lowered his pad and leaned closer to him.
“C.S., please, calm down. I promise you, these dreams, while admittedly disturbing, do not mean you want to kill your friend.”
“They don’t?” C.S. peeked through his fingers, watching as Donnie shook his head.
“No, but I do think they represent some strong feelings you’ve been having. I think I understand now why Dr. Copenhagen recommended me for you,” he added with a wry smile before he turned his gaze toward the other man. “Now, C.S., I want to ask you: how long have you had these feelings for Phillip?”
“Feelings?” C.S. asked, confused? “If you mean how long have we been friends, then a few years.”
“No, I’m sorry, I meant how long have you had romantic or sexual feelings for him?” Donnie clarified.
C.S. stared at him blankly. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m straight. I mean yeah, it’s been a long time since I’ve dated a woman, or even felt the desire to since people have gotten unbelievably annoying lately, but I’m straight. That’s the default setting for people, right?”
“No, that’s incredibly wrong,” Donnie replied, staring at C.S. in annoyance. “There is no default setting for people, so please don’t ever say that again.”
“Fine, whatever.” C.S. seemed to realize something then and his cheeks reddened while his eyes narrowed. “Wait, are you trying to imply that I’m gay now? I don’t know what kind of shit you’re trying to pull here but I don’t like it!”
“I’m not trying to pull anything,” Donnie insisted as he leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin pensively and trying to figure out the best course of action to take here. “I’m just trying to understand your situation. So then, you’ve… never felt any sort of attraction to a man?” he asked slowly a moment later.
“No!” C.S. insisted, bristling at the suggestion. “I told you, I don’t have many friends because I fucking hate people, men and women both! I can barely tolerate being around anyone besides Phillip!”
“But you do like Phillip, right?”
“Of course I like him!” C.S. snapped. “Phil isn’t a fucking idiot and he’s not trying to use me for his own personal gain like everyone else out there. He’s smart and nice and he really gives a damn about me… he’s one of the only people I trust… and we do have similar tastes in movies and video games, so hanging out is really fun.” C.S. seemed to calm down the longer he spoke, his whole demeanor lightening and his scowl vanishing completely. “He spends the night at least once a week and he doesn’t even care that I only have a tiny pull-out sofa bed for him to stay on. He even cooks breakfast for me when he stays, and does shopping or chores to help me out. Sometime when I’m feeling stressed, he’ll even give me a massage… wait.”
C.S. slowly looked over to Donnie, who was doing his damnedest to not laugh at the moment. “W-what?” he asked, biting down on his tongue when he realized his patient’s entire face had turned a vibrant shade of red.
“Th-that doesn’t mean anything! Guys can give each other massages, it doesn’t mean they’re gay! And guys can wrestle around and sometimes get hard because of it, b-because that’s just what guys do! It happens, it’s fucking natural! Just like it’s natural to sneak a look if he’s stepping into the shower or getting changed in front… of… you…”
Donnie jabbed the end of his pen into his leg several times, hoping the wince this caused would mask the lightness he felt. “Y-yes, curiosity is a perfectly natural and human feeling,” he agreed, the pain in his thigh doing just enough to squelch the laughter threatening to bubble up inside him.
“So… so yeah… natural,” C.S. repeated slowly, his eyes closing as he seemed to fall into a state of deep reflection. “So those dreams… you think they’re because I… I want to fuck Phillip?”
“I can’t say that for sure,” Donnie answered calmly, “but if I had to guess… yes.” He observed how his patient reacted to this assumption, but C.S. only sat stone still for several minutes. “Look, I know this must be very confusing for you,” Donnie said, slipping back into his more professional tone, “but I want to help you come to understand what your feelings mean. I think we can-what are you doing?”
Donnie watched in surprise as C.S. suddenly pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call. “Phil? Hey, it’s me. Want to come over tonight? I’ve got something to ask you. Okay, see you later.” Once finished with the call, C.S. pocketed the phone again and stood up. “Thanks for the help, doctor, but I’ve gotta get going.”
“Wait, what the hell?” Donnie asked, standing up as well. “Where are you going? We still have half a session left.”
“I figured it out,” C.S. replied calmly. “I had the nightmares because I want to fuck Phillip. So if I fuck Phillip, the nightmares will stop, right?”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Donnie insisted.
“Well, if that doesn’t work I’ll come back and you can see me for free to make up for the shitty advice you gave me this time.”
“I am not advising you to do anything!” Donnie snapped. “Please, just sit down and let’s talk some more.”
“Can’t. I have a date tonight, so I have to get ready,” C.S. said, a smile already sliding into place.
“Aren’t you at all bothered about the fact that you just now realized you have feelings for a man?” Donnie wondered incredulously. “And not just any man, but one who happens to be your close friend?”
C.S. shrugged. “For the longest time, I started to believe I wouldn’t have feelings for anyone again. So this… this actually makes me feel happy.”
Donnie blinked in surprise, and could not come up with a decent response that would persuade him to stay.
“I’ll be seeing you, doctor,” C.S. repeated as he walked out into the hallway and pushed for the elevator. “Or I won’t. Which would be preferable, actually.”
Donnie watched as the oddest patient he’d ever had disappeared behind thick silver doors before he returned to his office, laid down on the couch usually reserved for his clients, and took a nice, calming nap.