Day 46: Doctor's Office 6 (Dr. Wilson) [Fourth Shift]

[oncological]

Things really could have gone worse with Lance. They could have gone a whole lot better, but at least it hadn't devolved into a staring contest and at least there hadn't been any throwing of heavy objects. Wilson counted those as pluses, since he really wasn't cut out for this. Maybe if he'd been trained to do this sort of thing, but all he was

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[denied_future]

And so it was his turn for a therapy session, was it? If the notes on the bulletin board were any indication, Rey shouldn't expect anything particularly productive from it. The doctors didn't seem to be too different from the nurses in terms of their roles in this place.

Briefly, he wondered if he should pretend to be what they wanted--to be Richard Matthews. However, that thought was quickly banished for a number of reasons, the main one being that it wouldn't work. His attempt to retrieve his file had failed miserably, after all. His past, their interpretation of his "sleep study," the excuse for his "condition" or current injuries--he knew nothing about them.

However, he did know exactly who he was and had no intention of letting anyone convince him otherwise. Calmly, he walked into the office, before taking a seat in the chair. His expression, while not exactly eager, didn't betray any suspicion he might've felt about this. He didn't say anything either, and instead decided to wait to see what the doctor would do.

[oncological]

It was only a matter of time before a teenage kid walked in. It was usually teenage boys, at that. He didn't know why there were so many more male patients here than female (it's not like the mental illness statistics matched the jailed criminal statistics), but he had started to learn that he could question a whole lot here and yet not get any rational answers from... anyone, really

[denied_future]

To be fair, Rey wasn't in the habit of "spilling his life story," to anyone, whether they be doctors he didn't even know or to his friends. Shinn had been the only instance, and that was under special circumstances. Either way, though, Rey didn't intend on giving this man too much information about himself. While he didn't know how much Wilson was already aware of, it wasn't safe to be reckless.

He shook the doctor's hand, firmly but not brimming with overconfidence. In a polite tone, he replied, "Good afternoon."

He was still wary, but he knew how to maintain a neutral facade, at least. Today seemed to be a day for them.

[oncological]

While Richard (or did he prefer Rick?) hadn't corrected him on the name Wilson had used, that wasn't necessarily a sign that he was on the mend. Chances were that he was just too polite to say anything about it, which was actually something that had seemed uncommon in Wilson's patients so far. Most of them were sarcastic and bitter with a hint of trauma, and while it was bad to generalize...

In any case, he needed to get the conversation going, seeing how Rick wasn't going to be much help there. That was all right, since Wilson could generally get the patients to talk about something; even if they didn't think it was relevant, every bit of information had the chance of being pertinent in some way.

"So, Rick -- would you prefer I call you that, or Rey? -- anyway, how long have you been here now? How have you been handling your time here so far?" They were basic questions, but considering how quiet the teen was being, there wasn't really any other way to start.

[wantsyourzex]

Therapy again. Somehow he always managed to get caught off guard by it, but it could have been worse. As therapists went, Wilson wasn't as unpleasant as his previous ones, although his Captain had told him that was a cultural thing. His Captain

[oncological]

It was actually somewhat calming when Wilson saw Max walk in. He'd had two new patients so far today, so to now have someone he'd already seen to twice come back for a third session was rather heartening. They might actually get the chance to make some progress, rather than going through this infuriating pattern where he saw a patient once and then never heard from them again

[wantsyourzex]

It took Wilson some time to respond to his question. It was a shame that ZEX couldn't read human expressions any better. Perhaps he was considering what story to tell

[oncological]

When Max started talking about stabbing out his own eye and having his head cut into, Wilson straightened visibly in his seat. The man had always been further into the realm of insane than some of the others, if his thinking he was an alien (and that coughing up black hair was good sign) was any indication. It seemed that now he'd move on to severe bodily harm, whether self-inflicted or otherwise.

Still, Wilson doubted that Max's eye was actually gone under that patch. "You didn't really stab it out, did you? The file says your cornea was scratched," he spoke up. He doubted the patient was going to like that, but it was still the truth and he still had to face it.

"As for your head, I don't see much of anything about that," Wilson continued as he pored over the file in front of him. More stories, more sensationalism, and more pain for Max to deal with. Wilson wasn't sure what made the man so self-loathing, but maybe he would be able to piece it together after enough sessions. If Max opened up, that is.