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"I'll See You Through." (Coffee-Tastic and Zombie)


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Name: Thomas Bree

Age: 28

Height: 6ft

Eyes: Reddish Brown

Hair: Tree Bark Brown

Sexuality: Homosexual

Occupation: Working therapist at the local clinic.

 

Personality: Iron willed, caring and playful nature, Thomas is proud to say that he loves his job. Helping other prick themselves up with help is a great feeling to him, and practically lives off of it. He rarely gets angry, being the kind of person who can look past problems of the situation and recognize them as something that won't be helped by getting angry whatsoever. Thomas is cool headed and like just about anyone.

 

Bio: His determination for becoming a therapist came from being taunted and bullied in school, where he wasn't exactly as attractive as he was before. He was a nerd with glasses that could see everything clearly with them on except color. From the beginning, he felt like he was considered a handicapped for his disorder from how he was treated and how others made him feel, but no matter what, he kept getting through each day and did all of his work he was supposed it. The encouragement from his teachers and his Christian parents held him up, where he accepted that a genetic disorder meant nothing and it couldn't stop him from becoming someone special in the future.

 

However, in his college years, he came out as being gay. It got harder for him when his parents started to turn their back on him, but he searched for some help, which got him to a therapist of his own. With that person, he was able to cope better with the change in his parents little by little and found out what he wanted to do as a career.

 

Thomas has completed proper trained, specializing more into trauma patients, those individuals who have experienced sexual abuse, domestic abuse and those who were victims of disaster and devastating war

 

Likes: Pearl (his pet merle greyhound, see below), spicy food, in-between seasons, the beach, coloring books, earning real smiles from his patients and learning

Dislikes: Sour candy, headaches, misunderstandings, the idea of "Mr. Perfect", being offered money and being asked arrogant questions about his color blindness

Extras:

- His birthday is on Valentines day!

- Has one of the least common color blindness cases called Tritanopia, (see below)

- Thomas wishes he had siblings

- He still doesn't know how to whistle

- Thomas has been in two relationships, both lasting over a year. Both of his exs are still in contact with him as good friends now.

 

 

Pearl the Greyhound: She is three years old, is trained to follow commands/ tricks, is quiet and has been Thomas's dog since she was a little puppy

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Tritanopia: A very rare form of color-blindness resulting from insensitivity to blue light, causing confusion of greens and blues

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This is for my own reference, you can just pay no attention to it ^w^:

Do not touch him, encourage to think back to the patient's past and helps comfort as doing so, possible group therapy (we'll put that to the side though because you say it wouldn't work out well), and keeping casual in the beginning to gain some trust and comfort.

 

 

Please Register/ Sign In, in order to see the links.

What are your symptoms?

When did you or your loved ones first notice your symptoms?

Have you ever experienced or witnessed an event that was life-threatening to you or someone else?

Have you ever been physically, sexually or emotionally harmed?

Do you have disturbing thoughts, memories or nightmares of the trauma you experienced?

Do you ever feel as if you're reliving the traumatic event, through flashbacks or hallucinations?

Do you avoid certain people, places or situations that remind you of the traumatic experience?

Have you lost interest in things or felt numb?

Do you feel jumpy, on guard or easily startled?

Do you frequently feel irritable or angry?

Are you having trouble sleeping?

Is anything happening in your life right now that's making you feel unsafe?

Have you been having any problems at school, work or in your personal relationships?

Have you ever thought about harming yourself or others?

Do you drink alcohol or use illegal drugs? How often?

Have you been treated for other psychiatric symptoms or mental illness in the past? If yes, what type of therapy was most helpful?


The weather today didn't feel as harsh as it had been for the past week. The winter snow had become a slushy rain and then when it wasn't coming up from the sky, the remains on the ground became ice. His poor dog always begged to be let out, but the crazy weather wouldn't allow it to happen. Pearl owned clothes to keep her warm outside, but with the ice and the cold wind chill, Thomas, her owner, wouldn't let that happen. Her breed wasn't made for this kind of cold. Even with her thicker layer of fur compared to other greyhounds, Thomas just felt like it was too risky to take long walks and go to the park like normal. "Blame global warming... Sorry, girl," he told her before going out to the supermarket for a few items he forgot to pick up yesterday as well as some treats for Pearl at the pet store.

 

On his way, he was just promising himself that he would take Pearl out to the park for the whole day as soon as the ice melted. The crazy amount of energy his dog was building up insider her was starting to make the well behaved dog start acting up. So he'd have to handle that soon... "Woa~" Thomas stepped in a trick spot where the ice was so thin, he swore that it was solid concrete. He nearly fell over, but he caught his balance quickly. The man sighed in relief, telling himself to keep a better eye out for ice... Both rubber boots on the floor, he glanced up towards the cloudy sun. Only if those clouds moved out the way, all of this would melt in no time. Only until it snowed again sadly. But for the sake of his dog and for everyone walking on the sidewalks, the sun needed to make it work out because not everyone was able to catch their footing as well him.

 

Speaking of the devil, just up ahead he witnessed it with his own eyes. Someone wasn't so lucky with the ice and slipped right over on the ground. It looked like it hurt. "Are you okay?" Thomas called out in worry, coming over to the older man who fell, "You're not hurt are you? Here, take my hand," smiling, the brunet held out his gloved hand for the other to take. He couldn't help but laugh a little at the coincidence, "I can't believe it, I almost slipped too myself! This ice is getting out of hand, wouldn't you say?" He couldn't tell from behind, but as soon as he came closer and was here taking a better look, he was surprised to have witnessed such a handsome man fall on his butt.

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Name: Isaac Hudson

 

Age: 38

 

Height: 6'3 ft (190 cm)

 

Eyes: Deep green

 

Hair: Dark brown with bits of gray

 

Sexuality: Demisexual

 

Occupation: Currently unemployed

 

Bio: Right after finishing high school he didn't go to college, there wasn't even a thought about it. Ever since he was a teenager he had mild depression, so throwing himself out to the field seemed like the best idea. He didn't really feel like people cared enough about him to be worried that he'd die in the army, though that was most likely a lie. Still, at the age of nineteen, he started his training. He spent most of his life there, first in Iraq, where he was injured quite badly (he still bears burn scars on his left thigh and side), then Afghanistan, where he experienced the worst loss of his life. He had grown fond to a woman medic, but sadly she lost her life while out there. He saw it with his own eyes, which was most likely what left him traumatized. Shortly after that event, he was sent back home with severe PTSD and depression. As of now, he lives with his older brother, even after nearly a year has passed since his return.

 


Curse this weather. Isaac despised winter with all his being. The cold made his bones ache, his scars burn, and his mind felt frozen over. Even more than always. He avoided going outside as much as possible. Even though his brother encouraged him to get back to life, he couldn't do it. There were too many things out there that got to him. Perhaps the one thing he hated more than the cold was losing himself. Becoming violent, unstable. That happened far too often for his liking.

 

Just as he was about to turn home, the world turned against him once more. He felt the ground slipping from his feet as he slipped on fucking ice. Thankfully, he didn't hit his head. Of course, the first thought that came to him was "Everyone saw." That still scared him. Him, a man who's been through hell and back... Well, he never really went back.

 

A voice pulled him from his thoughts just as he was ready to try and get up. Isaac's gaze slowly moved up, creeping over everything from the rubber shoes to the dark, disheveled hair. "I'm fine." Although his voice was quiet, it sounded hoarse, a bit rough. If anything, it fit how he looked perfectly. A bit hesitantly, he reached out and grasped the stranger's hand, pulling himself up. He was used to always towering above others, but this man was tall enough himself. "Thank you." He added, seemingly having no interest in speaking any further.

 

Isaac wasn't a man of many words. Wiping his big, scarred hands on his brown leather jacket, he looked into Thomas' eyes. Meeting the brown orbs, he found... Innocence. A thing he himself had lost a long time ago. "Take care." He muttered, ready to turn around and leave. It didn't seem like he had any emotions. Like he was simply a corpse, walking around, leading a somewhat-life, but not feeling anything. It appeared like all of his ability to feel had been sucked right out of him throughout the painful years. Or, perhaps he hid it all underneath his hard skin. Very few would know the pain he was hiding. Especially since a small smile still crossed his face from time to time - like right now. He offered it for a man he did not know at all. He did seem nice, though. If they were to meet again, Isaac was sure he would remember him.

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He was so surprised to meet a good looking guy, but the next surprise he got wasn't so pleasant. What happened to his eyes? They had no life in them. Thomas's smile dropped slowly, "You're... welcome," he responded, his tone wondering off. As a man of his profession, nothing could stop him from analyzing people he crosses by from day to day, but he normally tried to tone that down, always telling himself he wasn't working at the moment so he could relax. This man though, he simply couldn't just refrain from thinking about. Such a beautiful green color was masked with a layer of depression that anyone, degree or not, could notice a mile away. And then the next thing he noticed was the man's scarred hands.

 

Okay, so it wasn't just the fact he had a bad week... He stood there, looking at him more and didn't walk away when he should have. Hearing the stranger tell him goodbye, he blinked and stepped forward, "Ah, wait!" He smiled sheepishly, but his grin was a sweet mixture of kindness and even real concern. Thomas only just wished he knew what he was planning on saying before stopping and possibly wasting the man's time. "I..."

 

He paused and folding his hands together, "Be careful when you're walking out here, okay?" He raised his eyebrows, giving a more optimistic look to the other man, "I heard that the sun will be coming back out soon, so all the ice will melt," he lightly laughed, but then got a bit more calm, asking tenderly, "I don't mean to intrude or possibly waste your time, but are you alright?" He must look very strange. A complete stranger asking him if he was alright... He'd apologize, but he didn't want to either. The older man looked like he was suffering and if anything he could say might help, then he was completely willing to do something. Even if it was small. But... that was only if he was allowed to of course.

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Isaac faltered when the stranger called after him. Turning around with an expression that bore slight confusion, he waited for him to speak. Did he drop something when he fell? His gaze focused on Thomas' grin. He felt a shudder run down his spine, feeling as if the man was staring right into his soul. Boy, he didn't like that one bit.

 

Hearing what he had to say, though, Isaac's body seemed to freeze up, his heart beginning to beat a bit faster. His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to reply, yet instead he turned back around and, rather bluntly, walked away. He didn't like situations where he didn't know what would happen or why they happened in the first place. He wasn't ready for those situations. Not here, where it was supposed to be safe. In the field, you could never be sure what would happen. In this world, most things were easily predicted, which gave him a sense of safety... But in moments like this, he just wanted to run. So, he did. It wasn't like anyone could stop him.

 


The next time he met the kind stranger was in an entirely different setting. He dropped yet another therapist, since this one kept trying to push him into going to group therapy. He didn't want that. Isaac was suggested a different one by a friend, a man named Thomas Bree. Brushing the snow off the top of his head, he stepped into the building, soon locating the room he had to go into. He knocked on the door and opened it, his lips parting, and yet again, no sound left his mouth. It felt like he was frozen up again, his hand staying on the door handle, squeezing it so hard his knuckles became white. A quiet, shaky breath passed his lips while he tried to get himself under control. Just breathe. Finally feeling like he was able to speak, Isaac stepped into the room, closed the door behind him, but didn't step closer. "I believe we've met before." He spoke, his voice as emotionless and hoarse as a few days ago. "It's a pleasure to officially meet you, doctor Bree." Isaac said, his heart beating so fast, he was sure everyone around could hear. What were the chances of this happening?

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Thomas was forced to let the man go, he wouldn't pester a stranger like that... But he was honestly concerned for the man. The brunet wished that he'd have spoken when he opened his mouth even though there was no guarantee he would have said something he wanted to hear. A refusal is what it would be at the least, one that was on words rather than leading to the stranger completely walking away from him. Thomas couldn't blame him though. Why would he tell someone he didn't know anything? As much good as it would be to have something happen, he had to be realistic. Being realistic like that was important despite things like this happening in the real world, people getting scared off from help, because in therapy it was almost the same.

 

Why would a patient want to tell a stranger anything? Sure, in therapy, they were supposed to speak to the doctor, but it didn't matter what they said if some kind of relationship wasn't established. Words can go into a person so much better when the patient's mind and heart were opened more, that was the best kind of remedy anyone can have... And a few days after that experience, he was going to have the pleasure of meeting a new friend. A 38 year old man, Issac Hudson, living with PTSD after time in Iraq and Afghanistan. With all his trauma patients, he felt it was crucial to get his visitors comfortable in the environment of his lounge room, with only had a small desk for himself while the rest of the room was made up of bookcases, a table, a few different chairs and a long couch with soft pillows he chose out himself.

 

He had just finished an hour with another male living with depression that was slowly easing up, high made him very enthusiastic. If that wasn't enough to keep a smile on his face, when his next patient came in and saw who it was, his smile beamed along with his eyes. It was the man who slipped from the ice! He walked towards him with a pleasant, cheery laugh, "Indeed, it's a pleasure to meet you again! Talk about the odds!" He held out his hand to Issac again, but for a shake, not helping the man up from the ground, "Please, just call me Thomas, no need for the formalities... Haha, At least I seem less weird for stopping you on the street right?"

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So loud. That was the first impression from Isaac. He actually cringed, barely visibly. He disliked therapists who were so... Happy. He was sure they meant him well, but it was really irritating. The man didn't respond to the hand extended towards him in a friendly manner. Honestly, he avoided touching others most of the time. Whenever he could, he didn't touch. It was, as one of his previous therapists put it, an unconscious fear of hurting them without even doing anything. "I'd prefer to call you doctor Thomas, then. I hope you understand." Isaac didn't seem to like the situation he was in one bit. Whenever other people were this close he found himself getting a bit anxious. It was worse when it was a group of people, though, which was why he didn't like the idea of group therapy. Touches, even ones meant to be calming, often made him flash back to when him and his partner would press against each other for safety before attacking. Needless to say, those memories only brought more problems with them.

 

Thomas didn't seem any less weird to him for stopping him on the street, though. Isaac found himself a bit uncomfortable in the man's presence, turning his gaze away for a few moments before looking back at the man. He realized he seemed rude, but he felt like it was justified. PTSD and depression wasn't really a nice combination. The older man's lips parted with a quiet exhale as his fingers twitched slightly. "Could we just start?" He asked, bits of his anxiousness showing in his voice. This was what, the fifth therapist he'd gone to? He didn't make a good first... Or second, actually, impression. It would've been better if they stayed as strangers, only knowing one another from the incident.

 

Isaac appeared to be a bit shaky. He didn't trust this man, and the room seemed too fake to calm him down at all. It felt more like a trap to him. Even this long after leaving the army, he still felt like he was being targeted by the enemy. For all he knew, his gut was right and he wouldn't leave this room alive. The man didn't realize that himself, but he'd clenched his teeth so hard, the vein in his neck seemed close to popping. He didn't try to run, at least, which is what used to happen with his first therapist. He couldn't say that he got nothing from the ones before. It simply wasn't enough. If pushed harder, he would still have an outburst of anger, he still couldn't think back properly to the loss of his loved one without intense regret, guilt, sadness and unbearable pain. Therapists seemed to want to push him harder, further than he could make. He seemed strong physically, but inside he was just a broken person. Just shattered pieces of him and his memories all over the place.

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Thomas had in fact given Issac's file a look, he always was supposed to in order to get some additional information about the visitor. He couldn't go into a new session blind after all... But from the other day, he had taken his hand to help pick him up, he would have thought he'd be more okay with shaking his hand. Thomas understood that these were different circumstances though, Issac was looking more and more nervous the more he was in his room. When he sees people in distress, he's always wished to be able to take their pain away from them, with this man especially. This was a safe place and Thomas was a safe person, not just because he was a therapist, it was just the kind of aura he liked having around him. For Issac to seem so unsettled and shaky, the younger male would take his pain and wear it himself if that would make him a free man again... To free him to his best ability though, he'd have to just do his job and try his best to connect with Issac.

 

"Yes, if that's what you'd like, Issac," he walked around to one of the comfy chairs, no notepad or clipboard in his hands whatsoever. He felt like therapists who always had it on them made their visitors feel like they're treated as subjects. What was wrong about just listening and talking? Thomas had the courtesy of writing down notes after he was gone, his memory wasn't bad where he'd forget any details, big or small, of someone he had just spoken with. "Well, Issac, it really is nice to be able to get the chance to meet you again. Truly." Thomas would insist the man take a seat, but he left the decision up to Issac himself, though he hoped he would sit somewhere comfortable to him. He spoke with more sincerity, his tone only sounding slightly more like a professional. More like a concerned stranger. Or how Issac might see it, sadly, just a stranger. "I can tell you're quite uncomfortable here, but I do hope you'll come to warm up more once we start getting to know each other more... So I'm going to start by asking some questions, Issac. And ever if you have any questions for me, you can just ask freely."

 

First sessions were usually for this reason, asking questions for the therapist to get a better idea of who the visitor is, as well as to see the kinds of approaches they should take in the process of healing. Issac didn't seem like he wanted to be in the center of attention though, the man was already shaking. He had a way to help cut that stress in half though, smiling off to the side, "I'd say I live alone, but I'm one of those people who count their dog as a person... A greyhound. Her name is Pearl. A very polite lady, might I add," he put his hands in his lap with a soft chuckle, "How about you? Are you living with someone at the moment...?"

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Isaac was relieved to see his therapist back off. Letting out a quiet exhale, the man slowly relaxed his muscles, reminding himself that it would be fine. There wasn't any real danger here. He took off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack before stepping closer to Thomas. He looked around, quickly scanning his surroundings. No matter how natural the other tried to make it seem, it still felt fake. Of course, most of the time everything felt fake. Like a dream, from which he would wake up only to find himself back in the field. That was probably one of his biggest fears by now. Getting back to that nightmare... He wouldn't be able to do that. He wouldn't last a week. His mind was already a mess. There was only so much he could take before going crazy. And from that point, killing himself would be a bliss.

 

Isaac's gaze finally reached Thomas. With nothing in his hands. Isaac's lip twitched slightly, his fingers trembling as he walked towards one of the armchairs. He sat down, still tense. He had to keep reminding himself to breathe. It felt like something was squeezing his chest. Thomas was just a stranger. Nothing more, nothing else. Just another person who he didn't want to let close to himself. "I have a quick question, then." Isaac said, before Thomas could begin his own. "Why do you not have anything to take notes in? Everyone else did. Why are you different?" The man almost sounded like a curious child, except there was no actual curiosity in his voice, nor in his eyes. Perhaps bits of confusion, but mostly distrust. Thomas tried so hard to present himself as trustworthy and nice, it created an opposite effect.

 

As the therapist began speaking about his dog, Isaac seemed to relax, just a little bit. He loved dogs... Right now he couldn't get one, mostly because his mental state didn't allow it, but he still adored those creatures. At the question, his gaze snapped back up to Thomas. "My brother. Ever since I came back. No one else." Isaac's sentences seemed short and chopped, so to say. It was most likely yet another thing he'd brought back from the military. There you had to say what you needed quickly and clearly, so everyone would understand. Guess he never got out of the habit of speaking that way.

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  • 2 weeks later...

"I don't take notes during visits because isn't it quite rude? I wouldn't like it if I met up with someone at a cafe to chat only for them to start taking notes on everything I say as if they couldn't remember themselves..." He explained honestly. Thats pretty much how he saw the whole note-taking thing. Even if things might get confusing for other therapists because they had more than just a few people, Thomas saw everyone perfectly clear. He never mixed up information, even if he didn't put in concluding details of each visit down on paper right after the time was up... His memory wasn't amazing, but it was enough. And being different than others, he knew, gave him an upper hand in trust. Dr. Bree wouldn't brag about having a point boost with his visitors though. He saw it as a real shame that it wasn't a very common thing for people in his profession to do. Maybe because he was just younger and his memory was fresher than one who was over 30? That could also be it. He knew he was a young face in this field.

 

With his question being answered, he nodded. Hearing he lived with a family member was good. Being alone in this was bad and usually made things worse for the people with their cases. "Oh you have a brother? You know," he gave another chuckle, tilting his head and looking to the side, rubbing his cheek, "I've always wanted a brother... or a sister. I just grew up alone and to say in the least, it was a little boring..." He always imagined that school would be a lot different for him if he had a sibling. He liked to think that they would have protected him from his bullies, and likewise, Thomas would have also loved to be their hero as well if they came into any problems like he did. Now, he still would like to hear one day that his mother has having another child. She was a lot older now, but it was still possible. He'd be a big brother and he'd still would have liked that just as much. "Though I wonder. Is your brother older than you or younger? And how good is your relationship with him?"

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"But this isn't a cafe. I came here for help, not to just chat. I'd actually prefer for you to take notes... Doctor Thomas." Isaac desperately clung onto all things ordinary, and this was the opposite of that. His fingers dug into the arm rests of the chair, his breathing becoming a little bit heavier, faster. It wasn't that big of a change yet, but it was indicating something really wrong already. Isaac needed reassurance, something to remind him that this was a safe place. He would've been happy living in a world where the same thing repeated every day without anything changing. That would be safe. There wouldn't be any dangers at all.

 

His eyes shot up to the therapist when he asked about his brother. He pretty much ignored everything the man said about himself. Perhaps it was quite rude, but this was about Isaac, and he knew that very well. Besides, he was sure no one would blame him for this anyway - for spacing out, blocking out other people... It was like his safety mechanism. "My brother's older than me. Five years. He takes good care of me-..." Isaac paused, uncertainty showing itself in his voice. "Though I've hurt him. Physically. More than once." He fell silent afterwards. It wasn't on purpose, not even once. Usually it happened after his nightmares, or during them. Isaac's lip trembled slightly, his head lowered. Obviously Thomas reached an incredibly sensitive subject. It was up to him now - if he got through the situation, he was sure to earn Isaac's trust. If he failed... There was very little chance Isaac would even consider going back.

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Being told to take notes, Thomas only smiled more in response, because he was not going to be writing anything down. It was interesting to hear him want him to be writing things down, it just showed how much he disliked a certain change that he wasn't expecting. Issac didn't like it. Well Thomas wasn't going to stop. The reason of not writing down notes was going to serve its purpose, Issac would get used to it and he would soon appreciate not being written like a new zoo animal.

 

Listening on, a sensitive subject this was indeed, he could clearly recognize it. Hurting loved ones close to you without being in control was something that could really dig in deep to people, but in all of it, one thing was very important to know for his visitors... Leaning a little closer, he let out his calming self, "Then I am happy to hear that your brother still takes good care of you. The thing is... You have gotten help before from others.. yet you still end up in another place you'd rather not be, is that correct? It is true that you've come here for help, but for me, giving care is what's most important. Just like your brother takes care of you, that is my purpose as well. I don't think you need someone to take notes on you. You need someone like him, who listens and shows they care no matter what, which entails a lot more than what 'help' does."

 

Leaning back in the chair, his smile radiated once more, "So if you will allow me, I'd like to try my best to be another person in your life that you can trust to take good care of you, Issac."

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Isaac did feel like an animal, but it wasn't because of people taking notes. He'd been feeling like a wild animal ever since he came back from the army. Thomas' decision not to take notes, while probably only with good intentions, didn't make him feel any less like an animal.

 

When his psychologist leaned closer, Isaac moved back unconsciously, reacting to the move as a threat. He reacted to many things like this by now, especially when he was feeling unsafe as he was feeling right now. Thomas didn't get what he wanted, what he needed. "Do you ever stop fucking smiling?" He spat out, his knuckles white from how tense he was. This was so far from working.

 

"I already have my brother. I don't need anyone else to do his job. What I need is someone to make me normal, or are you incapable of understanding that?!" By now Isaac was getting unnecessarily angry. He stood up from his chair, beginning to walk aimlessly around the room, trying to calm himself down. He wasn't ready to be pushed. Not yet. Everyone tried to push him and he couldn't take it. He was... He was too weak for that, he knew it. It was eating him up from the inside as it was now. Thomas, it seemed, would make it worse quickly.

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Well of course he was capable of not smiling, except Thomas was just very expressive. His smile had several different levels and versions, it might seem he really was incapable of smiling, but just like with his smiles, he had several kinds of frowns. The one his smile became was still calm and accurately showed some concern he had from Issac's response to genuine words. He was incredibly defensive over himself over change. Even more so than what Thomas could already tell from the beginning. Watching the man pace in their room like that while staying seated, his eyes sought to say the truth and hopefully something that would calm him a little more.

 

"I understand, though creating change is a team effort, I can't be expected to make it happen on my own. And I don't mean group lessons. I mean you and I, and I'm just letting you know how I plan to work. I know I can't replace your brother Issac and I'm not trying to match what he has with you. My intention is to be another form of support that you have, which I believe everyone in my profession should strive for..." His calm voice balanced out the anger from Issac's voice, though it wasn't overwhelming and it was enough where it wouldn't feel overfabrivared, "I'm sorry to have upset you for telling the truth, Issac, but things must change for good things to happen. You can make it happen. Everyone has the ability to make it happen."

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"Well no shit, genius, of course things need to change. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think so myself, or do you not understand that?" Isaac spat out angrily, completely unable to keep words from coming out of his mouth. He was a goddamn mess, that was for sure. The man fell silent for a bit, closing his eyes as he took deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm himself down. "I'm sorry." He muttered out after a while, but didn't sat back down. He felt a bit trapped there right now, he felt like he needed to move around so his thoughts could flow freely as well and not get disturbed by his untamed anger.

 

"You know it's been a year since I came back. I'm a little bit better, but everything here," Isaac motioned loosely to his head, "Is just a fucking mess." He said, continuing to walk around while checking out any objects that caught his eye. "If I didn't think change was necessary I wouldn't have gone to a single psychologist. You're not my first and you most likely won't be the last, doctor Thomas." Isaac spoke, nervously tapping his fingers against the surface of a table near one of the bookshelves. He didn't really like it here. Thomas didn't seem to fully understand him. He didn't want to just leave, though... Maybe once they broke through the ice things would be better. Maybe he would finally stop feeling to helpless in any situation. He couldn't control his emotions, even if he tried.

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The sigh Issac released after another burst from his anger silenced Thomas more than any kind of yelling would. Seeing that he was giving himself a moment to breath made him glad that the man recognized on his own that he should calm down. Even when he was given an apology, he didn't respond yet, only giving a small nod of his head, because he thought that he didn't need to apologize but saying so would somewhat ignite the anger again. Issac could appreciate the small amount of silence he was given until speaking again on his own.

 

From listening to him talk, it was made even more clear that Issac wasn't one of the people who was blind to his problems and he knew that change. It was just odd how just before when he saw some change, Thomas not taking any notes saying how he intended to put more care into him than others might, he seemed uncomfortable and that discomfort actually turned into anger the more the younger man spoke... Issac could point out everything he needed to work on, but that wouldn't necessarily matter if he could actually work on them with him. Perhaps, that was why he needed a psychologist to actually trust to help him with it all. "Why is it that you've gone to see many doctors, Issac? And how are you certain that I won't be the last?"

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Isaac was cerainly complicated. It was true, he knew change was absolutely necessary, but he was also incredibly scared of it. He wanted safety more than anything, but that wouldn't be enough for a decent life. Besides, he would just end up hurting everyone even further until he was left broken and alone. That he was scared of even more. Looking up at Thomas, Isaac turned around to walk over to another bookshelf, slowly looking through the titles of the books. "They all pushed me. Or they weren't enough." He replied quietly. He had to find someone who would push him just a little bit, just enough to take baby steps towards a good mental state.

 

"I'm not certain you won't be the last. It's just very likely." He added after a bit, turning around to face his psychologist. Isaac didn't want to live this hell anymore. He was sick and tired of it all. He wanted it to stop, but he didn't know how... That was the reason he felt he needed to see someone else. "I'll tell you right now, doctor. I dislike your methods, they seem weird and untrustworthy." He said bluntly, although he was definitely calmer. "To be fair, I don't trust you. I don't see you as a friend and I won't try to. Don't force me into that." He requested, although it sounded more like an order. Isaac didn't come here to make friends, he came here to patch up the gaping wounds that were left by his experiences.

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The lack of faith he had in him already, on the first meeting, was sad and disappointing, but he had to remember how many doctors Issac had gone through before getting to his room. Each one just grew more hopelessness in the next visit. He could blame the other doctors for not giving it their all... That wouldn't be of any use though. It was his job to help Issac and he was going to do his best. "It's not my job for me to force you to be my friend. But 'to be fair' it is my job to push you out of your comfort zones and you've already shown me that you're most comfortable with trusting your brother and only your brother. So you've given me a job to do, haven't you?" His voice was light, but dare say, there was a hint of playfulness in there also, "Well, I know I'm most certainly different from the other people you have seen and it's not to your liking. It's the first day though. Let's make the most of the time we have."

 

With a very quick change of pace, he did not allow Issac to respond with another protest before moving on. They were not about to argue about Thomas and how he plans to work. Thomas stated his method, Issac said he disliked it, it was time to move on. There were far more things he could bother his visitor with that would be more useful to Issac, if he wanted him to understand the lengths Thomas would go for him, then he'd just have to display that overtime. "Is there anyone else in your life that you're pushing away? Other family members, concerned friends...?" Because maybe he just disliked him because of what he was, a psychologist. Issac said himself he didn't need anyone else to do "his job", his brother's job. He wondered if that was literal. That if it was true he didn't let anyone else try to care for him and help.

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Isaac didn't trust anyone he met. Thomas wasn't any different. People had to earn his trust, it didn't just come with the first meeting. Besides, it wasn't that his previous doctors didn't give him his best. He was sure they tried, but something just didn't click. Isaac found it so much easier to switch rather than to give himself more trouble by trying to "fix" his psychologist so they would be to his liking. They either were that way or they weren't and that was it.

 

As Thomas talked, and without stopping, Isaac could barely keep his focus. What he could get a grip on, though, once again he did not like at all. Thomas was pushy already, even if he was just voicing his ideas. Isaac's expression turned into a tight frown, his arms crossed over his chest. "No." He replied, stubbornly and quickly. "I don't have friends. Not here. Parents don't give a shit. Don't make me talk about them." Isaac nearly growled out. It was yet another subject he simply couldn't trust Thomas with. Not yet at least. He didn't want to risk sharing too much information with someone he didn't like or trust. Turning away from him, Isaac looked over one of the paintings. Maybe he was being uncooperative and hard to handle, but he seriously didn't think Thomas got him. At all. "My brother is all that I have. All that I need." He added after a bit, closing his eyes as he took a few breaths. He was fully aware that he was ruining his brother's life the way he was now. Although his brother always denied it. He knew it was true. He felt even worse for doing that... It was one of the reasons he decided to try psychotherapy.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Thomas waited for Issac to get himself a few breaths before going on with his turn of speech. By the sound of it, though its not like he couldn't already tell, the man wasn't very trusting of others. His parents being on that list of people he would never put faith into, it was a little funny how Issac told him not to make him talk about them. He was in a place where he was specifically expected to talk. He had to talk about good things, bad things, and the things he didn't want to talk about. Making it clear to Thomas that he didn't want to brush into a topic concerning his parents only made Thomas more concrete on making him talk about them. They wouldn't go into it head first now, this was their first time meeting on official matters. A lot of times with the people he meets with, they aren't on good terms with their family, or at least, they don't feel comfortable with putting any trust in them for their own reasons. It was common, but for a wide-eyed man like himself, Thomas recognized that what wasn't common was each person. The roots were all different and there was no helping anyone if he saw it all in the same way and approached it in the same way.

 

"Okay. You love your brother, you trust him... And you think that he's all you need... The first two are fine, but Issac, if he was really all you needed, then how come nothing has changed for you?" He asked, touching and poking his thumbs together, "If he was your magical solution to all of your problems, then you wouldn't be here. He doesn't stop nightmares from happening, he can't make your attacks go away and he can't get you to form relationships with other people. And you know that. So why exactly do you think he's all you need? My ears are open, please explain it to me~"

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Isaac's annoyance turned into anger. "Don't fucking dare say anything bad about him." He growled out, voice seeping with rage. He was so protective over his brother, no one could even say anything bad about him. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping onto his arms, crossed over his chest. "I don't need him to do all that. That's the reason I actually go to these things. Why the hell would I be here if I thought I was fine?! Jace tries his best to take care of me and that's enough. The other things are supposed to come from people like you." He spoke, somewhat anxiously pacing around the room. If Thomas said another word about his brother in a way that seemed less than positive, Isaac wouldn't tolerate it. He did love Jace. The one person he put his trust in. The one person around who he didn't feel the need to put up a wall around himself and his feelings. He could actually feel happy around him.

 

"He doesn't deserve this." Isaac muttered out, quietly, as if talking to himself. This thought passed his mind very often. He was just a burden, something to take care of, a problem. He just wanted the best for Jace - for his brother. His parents tried to contact him after he came back from the army, but... They didn't care about him enough to actually adress his depression as a teenager. He never forgave them for ignoring his problem, and he didn't intend to. His parents didn't exist in his life anymore. He was pretty sure his brother still contacted from time to time, but he didn't care. Isaac went quiet, his shoulders slumping slightly. He seemed to go quickly from rage to depression. He didn't know how to control his emotions. He never really learned that.

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"Issac," he spoke up, more genuine concern coming up in his natural soft toned voice, "You can't be thinking like that, its very deconstructive and you can't even see it. You say your brother is "enough", but you also expect doctors to make all your pain go away. I would take every bit of it away if I could, but I can't. What we do here together is what helps. I can't do it alone. If things go the same way you tried with the other doctors, it'll end up the same way: you won't make progress and you'll just come to be even less trusting in other people, blaming these failures in the other person when you are the one who failed to try your best to allow someone to work with you to help. The worst that could go wrong in therapy for you has already happened. That being no progress. You can only go up from where you are now and I believe you can make it work, so can your brother. All he wants to see is you happy, because he's your brother and he cares a lot about you. And I want to see everyone who comes into this room eventually be happy living their life without a constant dark cloud above them from bad memories, because that's my job and I like seeing people happy as well."

 

Talking a huge chunk, when he closed his mouth finally, he took a little breath. There was always so much he wanted his visitors to understand, but when he was meeting people for the first time, he knew that is wasn't always possible to reach them, especially when it was a person as stubborn as a bull like Issac. The older man had quite the excuse for it though, so there was no way Thomas could blame him. He never blamed anyone for their behaviors actually... everyone had their own reason, their own past, and it was up to them to let another person in their life for the better.

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Isaac's anger sizzled out like a flame, just as quickly as it appeared. As Thomas talked, he couldn't get himself to face the man. Only after he was sure the other had finished, Isaac turned around, slowly walking back towards the armchair he sat in at the beginning, his gaze turned down. He even looked ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry." He apologized quietly, though even he wasn't sure what for. Isaac clasped his hands tightly, his head slumping between his shoulders. He looked broken - and he was. By the world around him... And by himself. Maybe he didn't want to let people help him after all, but... But he loved his brother too much to keep being such a burden for him.

 

"I..." Isaac stopped, shaking his head the slightest bit. "You're really something." He murmured, eyelids slowly moving down, completely hiding his sad, pain-filled eyes. Thomas was different, so maybe he would finally be able to help him? At least enough for him to not hurt his brother. Ever. He couldn't stand seeing the look on his face after Isaac injured him during his episodes. Jace always looked apologetic, as if it was his fault, but it wasn't! Isaac was just messed up. Too messed up to lead a proper life... To ever feel any romantic feelings again even more. None of his psychologists actually knew about his lover and her death. He did avoid talking about it as much as possible, but it was also the main source of his mental problems.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Issac returning to his seat, he got a huge sense of accomplishment that would last a long time in his heart. Not being rejected for showing compassion like the first time meant he was taking a step into accepting him as his doctor and, hopefully in time, as a friend that he could count on whenever he needed. Seeing him look ashamed made it even cmore clear that he could see his wrong, which was raising his voice and, of course, being unreasonable with himself and Thomas when the both of them were just looking for healing the same person in this room. Thomas couldn't be seen as the bad guy the entire time... Gaining the apology, he gave a sweet little nod. He didn't need to apologize though, because for what it's worth, it's just their first time meeting... Getting threatened by another person who wants to take care of him, which was apparently his brother's role only, wasn't harmful to either of them any longer.

 

He chuckled, "Thank you, I guess. I'm just doing my job," he liked the temper going away, but he didn't like seeing so much pain in Issac's worn face. "You're quite the thing yourself you know. How was I to ever think that the person I helped up from slipping on ice was going to be the same person I plan on helping to change for the better... I really am glad to have you here, Issac. Know that I plan on doing my very best to help you. I can't make you have coffee with me, but I can start pushing you little by little," he smiled, "Now I bet coffee with me sounds a whole lot better now when I put it like that, doesn't it?" He still wished that he could be able to go out with him for lunch, but there was the slight issue of two things. Issac wouldn't do that anytime soon and it wasn't ethical to befriend a visitor on a non-professional plane. It's just that he could see Issac grow more if he was outside in the real world and not the quiet enclosure of his office...

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A small smile tugged at the corners of Isaac's lips. He looked up, his hands still clasped tightly together. "I suppose it can't hurt." He replied quietly, giving into the suggestion. "As long as it's not crowded. I can't take being with many people." He added, his voice still quiet, with the same pain lacing it. His mood swings were rather severe, it seemed. It would take a lot of work to actually learn to control them. He went from being in absolute rage to being near-depressed. Isaac met the psychologist's gaze, his lips parting with a slow exhale. He didn't know what he should expect next, honestly. How did Thomas plan to move on with him?

 

Isaac slowly leaned back against the chair, keeping steady eye contact with the man. What was he even supposed to do now? His breathing slowed down, became steady as he let his muscles relax. "I'm sure by now you've figured out I don't exactly like being around people." He muttered, finally looking away at one of the many bookshelves in the room. "I can't say I enjoy being here, either. I'm only here because I care about him." Isaac said quietly, referring to his brother. Jace... If people didn't know it was his brother, one could probably think it was his boyfriend. Their relationship was incredibly close. They cared for one another, though obviously Jace took more care of Isaac than the other way around. It was a bit upsetting. Isaac wanted to become useful too. He wanted to make his brother feel better in his life, rather than keep on ruining it. He knew Jace broke up with his partner at some point and he couldn't help but feel like it was his fault. He kept blaming himself for many things, most of which really weren't his fault. He couldn't help it. He just felt so pathetic sometimes.

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