Talk about your relationship with your parents.
Gallifrey doesn't have therapists as such. It does, however, contain experts in the Gallifreyan mind, and on occasion they use this expertise to counsel the few denizens in need who will admit it.
Theta Sigma is not one of them. He does, in fact, resist very loudly and persistently the entire way.
"I am not troubled. In fact, I'm probably one of the least troubled people on this planet, which granted isn't saying very much - "
"Insulting us will not - "
"This world is full of apathetic, xenophobic cenophobes who - "
"You're the psychiatrist now, are you?"
"I've an entire list penned out. Allodoxaphobia, atelophobia, cherophobia, eleutherophobia, geliophobia, metathesiophobia - "
"Oh, do shut up."
They've arrived, and the harried professor promptly shoves Theta through the door and locks it behind him. With an indignant scowl, Theta straightens his robes and mutters about rudeness.
"Ooh, it was. I can't imagine what you did to make him so brusque."
His head jerks up, because there's something odd about that voice. Younger than he expected, for one. Far less stuffy.
Oh, no, this man isn't what he expected at all. Full head of dark hair, wide eyes, a distinctly amused curve to his lips.
"Well? Not just going to stare at me, are you? I had a couch brought in, you should use it. Very comfortable, I tried it out."
He turns his head, and sure enough, there's a red couch, matching the arm chair his therapist is seated in.
After a moment, he strides over and sits down. He'd sprawl, but he doesn't think it would annoy this one, so there isn't much point.
"There we are. Now we're both comfortable. Well, not entirely comfortable, I can tell. Relax, won't you?"
"Why should I? They want to kick me out. Again." His own voice almost makes him cringe; bitter, tired, raw.
"Ah. Well. Yes." The words are drawn out, and the strange Time Lord is staring down at his hands - long, thin, rather like Theta's own.
He could start ranting about the parochial injustice of it all, but he knows it won't make much difference. Some of the younger ones he can sway, but this man is ancient. Set in his ways just like the rest of them.
"You shouldn't make your mind up about people so quickly, you know."
His eyes widen, and he frantically searches said mind for some intrusion - but the older Time Lord shakes his head.
"Just guessing. I'm good at this, you know, that's why they picked me. Well, and I was a bit more eager than the rest."
"And why is that?"
"You're interesting! No one can figure you out, you know, even if they think they have. You're very intelligent, but you keep failing classes. You're charming, but you aren't overly popular. You're a rebel, but no one knows why."
"And you're meant to find out."
"In part. The sooner we start, the sooner it will be done with." Theta sighs, and nods, and rests back against the upholstery. It's from Earth, of course, one of his favoured planets at the moment; the man did his research.
"So. Tell me about your parents."
Theta groans.
"Must I?"
Another smile. In fact he hasn't gone without one for very long, and Theta can't tell which are forced and which are sincere, and it's all very unnerving. This one, anyway, looks sympathetic.
"I'm afraid so, yeah."
Another sigh. He's stalling, of course. The impromptu doctor doesn't seem to mind.
"Old family, very traditional, very reserved. They don't approve of me. Hardly shocking, really, I'm a horrible student with dangerous ideas who associates with Shobogans and -"
"And how does that make you feel?" Theta just stares, for a moment, and could swear he sees the hint of a smirk, just for a moment.
"Not very much, to be honest. We were never close." It's the truth, more or less. That distance has been growing for decades.
"And when you were younger?"
"I had better role models."
"Like the Hermit." His eyes narrow, and he straightens, but can't see pass the impassive expression.
"How did you know?"
"I'm supposed to know, Theta. I know K'anpo was more like a father to you than anyone else. I know that when he left, you felt so alone, so very alone, and no one could possibly understand."
"Is that why I'm acting out, then? Is that why I'm so much trouble?" The words are harsh, derisive, but he's staring at his hands.
A quiet chuckle turns his head again. A sad smile captures his gaze.
"You're so much trouble because he taught you to be better than all of this." The man rises, swamped in his extravagant robes. For the first time, Theta realises they don't fit him very well.
"You're meant for so much, Theta Sigma. Don't forget that. Don't stop trying."
"If they expel me - "
"They won't. We had a very enlightening session, revealing a confused, lonely boy who only needed a little guidance." His eyebrows rise. "You will, of course, be a bit more subtle for a while. I know you can do it if you try. Even I can do it."
All Theta can do is stare up at him, into bright, wise eyes that remind him of his own, for no reason he can discern.
At a gesture, he stands, and the man leads him to the door with a hand on his shoulder.
As Theta steps over the threshold, he looks back.
"You never gave me your name." He sounds, he knows, both hopeful and suspicious. He thinks the man will hear both, and that's all right.
"No, I didn't. Here - " The man rummages through his robes, and pulls out a crumpled flower. "Have this instead."
The door closes, and Theta stands there for some time, with a faint smile on his face and a daisy in his hand.
Theta Sigma is not one of them. He does, in fact, resist very loudly and persistently the entire way.
"I am not troubled. In fact, I'm probably one of the least troubled people on this planet, which granted isn't saying very much - "
"Insulting us will not - "
"This world is full of apathetic, xenophobic cenophobes who - "
"You're the psychiatrist now, are you?"
"I've an entire list penned out. Allodoxaphobia, atelophobia, cherophobia, eleutherophobia, geliophobia, metathesiophobia - "
"Oh, do shut up."
They've arrived, and the harried professor promptly shoves Theta through the door and locks it behind him. With an indignant scowl, Theta straightens his robes and mutters about rudeness.
"Ooh, it was. I can't imagine what you did to make him so brusque."
His head jerks up, because there's something odd about that voice. Younger than he expected, for one. Far less stuffy.
Oh, no, this man isn't what he expected at all. Full head of dark hair, wide eyes, a distinctly amused curve to his lips.
"Well? Not just going to stare at me, are you? I had a couch brought in, you should use it. Very comfortable, I tried it out."
He turns his head, and sure enough, there's a red couch, matching the arm chair his therapist is seated in.
After a moment, he strides over and sits down. He'd sprawl, but he doesn't think it would annoy this one, so there isn't much point.
"There we are. Now we're both comfortable. Well, not entirely comfortable, I can tell. Relax, won't you?"
"Why should I? They want to kick me out. Again." His own voice almost makes him cringe; bitter, tired, raw.
"Ah. Well. Yes." The words are drawn out, and the strange Time Lord is staring down at his hands - long, thin, rather like Theta's own.
He could start ranting about the parochial injustice of it all, but he knows it won't make much difference. Some of the younger ones he can sway, but this man is ancient. Set in his ways just like the rest of them.
"You shouldn't make your mind up about people so quickly, you know."
His eyes widen, and he frantically searches said mind for some intrusion - but the older Time Lord shakes his head.
"Just guessing. I'm good at this, you know, that's why they picked me. Well, and I was a bit more eager than the rest."
"And why is that?"
"You're interesting! No one can figure you out, you know, even if they think they have. You're very intelligent, but you keep failing classes. You're charming, but you aren't overly popular. You're a rebel, but no one knows why."
"And you're meant to find out."
"In part. The sooner we start, the sooner it will be done with." Theta sighs, and nods, and rests back against the upholstery. It's from Earth, of course, one of his favoured planets at the moment; the man did his research.
"So. Tell me about your parents."
Theta groans.
"Must I?"
Another smile. In fact he hasn't gone without one for very long, and Theta can't tell which are forced and which are sincere, and it's all very unnerving. This one, anyway, looks sympathetic.
"I'm afraid so, yeah."
Another sigh. He's stalling, of course. The impromptu doctor doesn't seem to mind.
"Old family, very traditional, very reserved. They don't approve of me. Hardly shocking, really, I'm a horrible student with dangerous ideas who associates with Shobogans and -"
"And how does that make you feel?" Theta just stares, for a moment, and could swear he sees the hint of a smirk, just for a moment.
"Not very much, to be honest. We were never close." It's the truth, more or less. That distance has been growing for decades.
"And when you were younger?"
"I had better role models."
"Like the Hermit." His eyes narrow, and he straightens, but can't see pass the impassive expression.
"How did you know?"
"I'm supposed to know, Theta. I know K'anpo was more like a father to you than anyone else. I know that when he left, you felt so alone, so very alone, and no one could possibly understand."
"Is that why I'm acting out, then? Is that why I'm so much trouble?" The words are harsh, derisive, but he's staring at his hands.
A quiet chuckle turns his head again. A sad smile captures his gaze.
"You're so much trouble because he taught you to be better than all of this." The man rises, swamped in his extravagant robes. For the first time, Theta realises they don't fit him very well.
"You're meant for so much, Theta Sigma. Don't forget that. Don't stop trying."
"If they expel me - "
"They won't. We had a very enlightening session, revealing a confused, lonely boy who only needed a little guidance." His eyebrows rise. "You will, of course, be a bit more subtle for a while. I know you can do it if you try. Even I can do it."
All Theta can do is stare up at him, into bright, wise eyes that remind him of his own, for no reason he can discern.
At a gesture, he stands, and the man leads him to the door with a hand on his shoulder.
As Theta steps over the threshold, he looks back.
"You never gave me your name." He sounds, he knows, both hopeful and suspicious. He thinks the man will hear both, and that's all right.
"No, I didn't. Here - " The man rummages through his robes, and pulls out a crumpled flower. "Have this instead."
The door closes, and Theta stands there for some time, with a faint smile on his face and a daisy in his hand.