[ooc: Don referred to is ( Read more... )

[ooc: The boyfriend referred to is ( Read more... )

"Break it."

I double-take when she says this. Did she just say what I think she said? What the fuck is that gonna do? I can't help but quirk an eyebrow at her request. It's odd. I really think I heard her wrong, because it seems pointless. "Excuse me?" I finally reply, tilting my head. The blonde in front of me cannot be serious with her statement. ( Read more... )

The truth is, I hate being alone. Waking up alone after a nightmare, my eyes watery, my body shivering uncontrollably. It's the worst feeling in the world, having to be by yourself after a particularly brutal nightmare.

( I'm not sure what brought them on, what caused them to resurface... )

"Ya know. I sit there. I sit there every day, people take shots at me. They take shots at me, and it doesn't faze me. Doesn't surprise me at all. I've had bullets rush past my head, couple of inches away. None of it fazes me at all." I'm pacing her office, the same way I always do when I'm anxious or upset. She gets to deal with a lot of that from ( Read more... )

"You think it's something you ever get over?"

Now this is a switch up - usually she's the one asking the questions, prodding for information. Yet here I sit, quiet, thinking. Questioning. It's something I find myself constantly wondering - the thought never leaves my mind. It occupies the same space as my questions of whether or not I'm to blame ( Read more... )

She's here after hours. I know she is - I've come before, after hours, seeking help, advice.

Sometimes every two weeks isn't enough. Sometimes, I need to release tension after a case, without waiting for my scheduled appointment. It's not often, but it's happened on occasion.
( Sometimes, I appear in front of her door, in tears. )

"What's your theme song?"

I tilt my head, looking at the blonde across from me in disbelief. Is she serious? I try to figure this out, try to establish whether or not she's kidding. She glances up from her legal pad at my pause, pushing her black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose some with a perfectly manicured finger.
( She's young, intelligent... )