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the_sweetshrink

Therapy D.K. Webster

Mar 28, 2009 20:25

After the last meeting, Sweets had decided that he needed to know a lot more about the second world war. What he'd gone to the shelf for was post-war psych texts. What he came away with, other than an armful of what he'd wanted, was a book by the one patient that had prompted the visit in the first place ( Read more... )

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Dated April 26th thewordofweb April 27 2009, 02:17:58 UTC

By the time I make it to Sweets' office, I pretty much have stopped myself four times. Four full times, I've told myself I just need to go back to Joe and just lie in bed and it'll all pass, but that crushing feeling isn't going away and I don't exactly see a light at the end of this tunnel. So I've swallowed my pride and show up at the door with papers in hand, giving Sweets a pained look.

My mouth hangs open and I'm pale and tired and I don't know what to think anymore. "Did you know?" is my first demand. "In our previous sessions, did you know?"

Re: Dated April 26th the_sweetshrink April 27 2009, 02:26:01 UTC

Sweets looked up from the journal he was reading and blinked at Webster. Then at the papers. Truth Zone meant he wasn't going to outright lie, but he needed more information before he damned himself.

"Did I know what, Webster?" he asked calmly.

Re: Dated April 26th thewordofweb April 27 2009, 02:32:14 UTC

"Did you know that I died?" I spit out the words accusingly, leaning over the desk and slamming down the obituaries that I've found. One after one describing how no body was ever found, how no funeral could actually be held. "Did you know that I didn't even make it to forty!"

Re: Dated April 26th the_sweetshrink April 27 2009, 02:35:55 UTC

"Yes," he admitted. "There's a book. To be completely franks, though, given your proclivities for living life to the fullest, I figured you had died before the year I came from."

Not that it was any sort of justification.

"I didn't feel it would be in your best interest to ask you to face your death, though. Not yet. It seems, though, that I have very little control over that. Did the shelf give you these?"

Re: Dated April 26th thewordofweb April 27 2009, 02:41:16 UTC

"Yes. I found them," I agree dully. "Fucking days after Joe gets a uniform from fucking Landsberg," I let loose, fury and anger unleashing in my voice as I feel everything bubble up that I've kept down because I need to be strong for Joe. "Shari runs away from her wedding, Joe gets this tribute of horror as though a pinnacle of the worst of mankind. Huh? What the fuck is wrong with this place?" I demand harshly.

"And then these. These! These t-things that say I ought to already be dead, that I left behind a young family, that I could want to die, that I never get found. I'm not an inexperienced sailor," I say, still leaning forward and spitting out every last word. "I wouldn't just let myself get lost."

Re: Dated April 26th the_sweetshrink April 27 2009, 02:48:37 UTC

Sweets sat placidly facing down the torrent of emotion. On an intellectual level it was reassuring to know that Webster was capable of expressing deeper personal issues. On an emotional level, he was unsettled by the force of it all.

"Of course you wouldn't," he replied calmly. "When did you get them, Webster? How long has it been that you've been holding all this back?"

Re: Dated April 26th thewordofweb April 27 2009, 02:56:28 UTC

"I found them on Thursday, I left that night and I didn't get back until Saturday," I reply, staring him down. My jaw is tense and I want a reaction. I want something. I want him to shout back at me, want him to ask where I was the last three years, want to hear shoot him! so I can snap back another round of 'no, I will not engage in your personal fucking vendetta'.

"Joe doesn't know." And I've been on the brink of falling apart ever since I found them and I can't do this.

Re: Dated April 26th the_sweetshrink April 27 2009, 03:01:50 UTC

"I see." As close as Webster was, all Sweets could think was that he was so grateful the man wasn't in his lap, petting his hair and talking about ice cream.

"It's no wonder you're angry, Webster. This is traumatic news, but your reaction is normal."

Re: Dated April 26th thewordofweb April 27 2009, 03:05:02 UTC

That makes me laugh almost hysterically and I pull back, shooting Sweets an incredulous look. "No wonder I'm angry?" I echo, spitting out and my jaw feels as though it's going to click and lock. "You know what? Fuck you," I announce, lobbing the easy insult his way. I stare at him with accusatory glares. "What the hell do you know about what I've gone through? What do you know about appropriate reactions? Have you had to wipe off your friend's blood on your combats because he didn't make it through Market Garden or deal with icy stares because I didn't make it to Bastogne?"

"You didn't see the camps," I accuse, "You didn't hold Janovec's hand when the war was fucking over and you don't know what it's like to know how you die and exactly how it will happen because you wrote the book on it."

Re: Dated April 26th the_sweetshrink April 27 2009, 03:12:34 UTC

And there it was. The emotion coupled with the opening he'd been waiting for.

"No. I don't know. Any time I ask, I get a glossy, superficial answer from you," Sweets replied. "So, yes, until I know more? Anger is situationally appropriate."

He had yet to be hit by a patient, but there was a first time for everything. In this state, Sweets had a feeling Webster was capable of anything. It was fascinating.

Re: Dated April 26th thewordofweb April 27 2009, 03:17:31 UTC

I can't help but feel cruelty running through my veins. For all the times that I've argued with Joe, I can't help but feel that it was preparing me for something like this. "You're the big talented psychologist, why don't you just read another book?" I snap, icily. I narrow my eyes at him and stay close, sliding in until I'm right up in his face again. "Or would that put you in a position to make you feel worthless that your life is never going to be worth a fucking eighth of an ounce as the men who died?" I demand of him, not blinking or flinching.

My voice is as condescending and rife with distaste as it was back in that bakery. "What do you want to know, Doc?" I note with heavy sarcasm. "What could you possibly offer me in the way of understanding?"

Re: Dated April 26th the_sweetshrink April 27 2009, 03:25:51 UTC

Sweets leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips, considering Webster's words and actions.

"I'd like to know how someone can go on when good men around them die and they survive," he replied calmly. "And I could offer you the kind of understanding that comes from knowing that no matter what you say and no matter how you say it, I'll still be in this office the next time you come in. I'm your therapist, not your friend, and you don't intimidate me. I'm not here to judge you or validate you, Webster...so what do you want to know?"

Re: Dated April 26th thewordofweb April 27 2009, 03:31:08 UTC

"I don't intimidate you. I have a gun, I have a rifle. I have a full cache of bullets and I have a boyfriend who has happily shot people in cold blood. I would happily shoot them if the motive struck me," I say to him, still leaning forward with both hands on the table. "You can't give me anything. You cannot offer me any solace. You're worthless," I say with a derisive scoff.

I lean back against the desk and start collecting the pilings and the papers.

Re: Dated April 26th the_sweetshrink April 27 2009, 03:41:18 UTC

He'd heard similar things from Booth, but honestly...if someone was going to shoot him, they wouldn't take the time to remind him of their arsenal.

"All right," he replied firmly. "You're obviously in no fit state to discuss this without resorting to personal attacks. I understand that you're angry, Webster, and I should have told you about the book. But seeing you now, I feel that I did the right thing. I think we should postpone this session until you've had more time to process things."

Four days was hardly enough, and if Joe didn't know then he had a feeling things at home weren't going to be pleasant until Webster shared with his partner. He didn't know how long that might take.

Re: Dated April 26th thewordofweb April 27 2009, 03:46:56 UTC

Instead of leaving, I just pick up my things and sink into the chair opposite him, leveling a stare on him and not moving. "Why postpone? You wanted to ask questions. And you find my answers both glossy and superficial. We can talk about what a Landsberg uniform smells like when it turns up on your boyfriend's pillowcase."

Re: Dated April 26th the_sweetshrink April 27 2009, 03:48:49 UTC

"What does it smell like?" he asked, since it was clearly something at the forefront of Webster's thoughts. Something other than the papers in his hand.

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