Tick. Tick. Tick.

Eric let out an annoyed grunt as he listened to the clock mounted on the nearby wall, his foot involuntarily tapping in apprehension as he looked around. The days had flown by, and now he was here, waiting to see the doctor.

He wasn't alone, at least – Rebecca was there with him, as was Rosa. They were seated on either side of him. Rebecca looked stone-faced as ever, though she also didn't seem to know what to make of the therapist's office. Rosa, on the other hand, simply looked relieved.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Eric's eye twitched as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought they got rid of those damn things ages ago."

"What damn things?" Rosa asked.

"The fucking analog clock. Thing's driving me crazy."

"Then it's a good thing we're in a therapist's office." He glared at her, and she returned it with a smirk. "Come on, you set me up for that one."

Eric let out a gruff sigh. "How long are we going to be waiting? We've been sitting here for fifteen minutes. Doctor's running late.'

"He's a doctor, they're always late." Rosa reached out and rested a hand on his arm, which gave him pause. "Just relax, would you? I understand you have your reservations about this, but there's no reason to be so on-edge."

She took her hand off his arm, and Eric snapped back to reality. He shook his head to clear it of the haze that had settled inside his mind, then looked back at her.

"You didn't have to come along, you know."

"I know," she confirmed with a nod. "But I wanted to. I mean, I'm the one who kept pushing you to do this."

"You sure you didn't just want to make sure I was actually showing up instead of stopping at a bar or something?"

She gave him a pointed look. "Lighten up, would you? Seriously, you make it sound like you're about to get a tooth pulled or something."

"Forgive me if I have some misgivings about letting some damn Freud wannabe poke around in my head a bit."

Rosa rolled her eyes. "He's not gonna be a Freud wannabe, alright? I don't understand what's gotten into you so suddenly. You were pretty gung-ho about this right up until it was time to leave for the appointment. Well, I've got news for you – if you want to leave, then leave. It's not like you're legally bound to stay here. But just know that you'll be doing yourself and Rebecca a disservice."

Eric let out another grunt, running a hand through his hair. "Guilt trip me harder, damn it…" A sigh escaped him, and he reached into his jacket for his pack of smokes, only to realize that he wouldn't be allowed to smoke indoors. His brow furrowed, but he withdrew his hand from inside his jacket regardless.

Finally, the door opened, and a young woman stepped out, a tablet in her hands.

"Eric and Rebecca?" she asked.

Rebecca's gaze narrowed at her true name being used so flippantly, but he managed to calm her with a brief touch of her shoulder. They both stood up, though to Eric's surprise, Rosa stayed seated in the waiting area.

"You're not coming?"

She shook her head. "Doctor-patient confidentiality. I'll be staying out here unless you want me there. Honestly, though, for your first time… I'd say you might want to do this on your own. You're apprehensive enough about the doctor taking a look inside your mind, I doubt you'd want me doing the same."

Slowly, Eric nodded in understanding, and together, him and Rebecca followed the young woman back into the office. She led them to a series of rooms, then stopped just in front of the doorways.

"Here we are," she said, a smile crossing her face. "Doctor Blanche will see you, Eric, and Doctor Harvey will see Rebecca."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," Eric said. "You're splitting us up?"

The assistant blinked. "...Yes? I thought that was quite clear when I mentioned over the phone that there would be two doctors-"

"I figured you meant some kind of good-cop-bad-cop routine, not this."

Footsteps caught his attention, and Eric paused as a tall older gentleman appeared in the doorway. He was dressed in a beige collared shirt and slacks, and had a small bow tie affixed around his neck. Eric estimated he was in his mid-sixties, if the gray in what was left of his hair and his mustache was any indication. The man pushed his glasses up, then turned towards his assistant.

"Thank you, Amanda, I'll take it from here." The young woman nodded, then turned and began to walk away. The man looked over at Eric, a friendly grin crossing his face. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Doctor Thomas Blanche. I take it you're Captain Anders?"

"Just Eric," he replied. "What's this about you splitting us up?"

"Apologies if it wasn't clear over the phone, but that was always the intention," Blanche answered. "Therapy is tailor-made for the individual, for the most part, and very few practices offer small group sessions like what you seem to be after. Large group sessions are a different story, of course, but we tend to limit groups of two for marriage counseling and couples therapy."

"That's not applicable here," Eric hurriedly answered. "We're just friends who live together under the same roof, that's all."

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

He blinked as the words left his mouth. For the life of him, he couldn't recall ever saying Rebecca was his friend before, but he supposed it fit well enough at this point. It was certainly better than saying she was his roommate, in any vase.

Blanche nodded. "Look, I apologize again for not being clear. But I must implore you to at least try a single session separately. I mean, you're both here, and the session has already been booked and paid for. What's the harm?"

Eric bit his lip. Much as he hated to admit it, Blanche had a point. He let out a tired sigh, then turned to Rebecca.

"Just take it easy this time, alright?" he said to her. "If you need anything, shout for me and I'll drop everything and come running. Got that?"

Rebecca nodded, and Eric sucked in a breath before turning back to Blanche.

"Alright," he said, "let's get this over with."

***

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Already, Eric hated it. Blanche had one of those damn clocks mounted on his wall, too. He stared at the second hand as it ticked away, glowering at it the entire time. He continued to stare until Blanche cleared his throat, getting his attention.

"Okay," Blanche said, reading over the tablet in his hands. "I've read through the paperwork you've submitted."

"And?"

"It's… more sparse than I would have expected from someone who spent that much time in the Marines." He peered over the top of the tablet, staring into Eric's eyes. "Is that what brings you here today?"

"Not exactly."

"Oh? Then do tell, I'm all ears."

Eric crossed his arms. "I'm only here because Rebecca needed this, and I didn't want to send her in alone. Unfortunately, that plan's been pretty much shot to pieces, so now here we are."

"Here we are," Blanche echoed. "And I wouldn't be so sure that your plan is in shambles. You being here probably means more to her than you might initially believe."

"What makes you say that?"

"I saw the way she was looking at you in the hallway. It was subtle, but I can tell she cares a great deal about you, and that she values your friendship."

Eric was surprised. "How can you tell?"

"I've been working as a therapist for over forty years at this point," Blanche explained. "I guess you could say I'm pretty good at reading people."

"I suppose…"

"Which is how I could tell she's not a normal person."

Eric's blood all but froze in his veins. His gaze slid over to Blanche, and he uncrossed his arms as he sat up straighter in his chair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Eric insisted.

Blanche held up a hand. "Don't mistake my point, please – I have no intentions of telling anyone her secret, and neither does Doctor Harvey. Beyond simply losing our careers, if we did that, we'd be outing her to the world. And if she wants to live a life of secrecy, after all that she's done for humanity, then who are we to take that away from her?" He shook his head. "You have my word that any discussion as to her true nature will stay strictly within the confines of this office."

"How can I trust you?" Eric blurted out.

"That is the tricky part, isn't it?" Blanche asked. "It's simple, really – I already know her secret. I could reveal it at any time… but I won't, because what benefits would I gain from doing so? Nothing, that's what. But I'd certainly gain your ire, not to mention hers, and if the rumors are true, she's the very last person I would want to anger." He gave Eric a small grin. "Besides, I've been keeping patient secrets for forty-odd years now. I'm not about to break a streak like that for something like this."

Eric crossed his arms again. "Fine, I guess," he admitted. "So, what's the deal, then? You have a plan for what to talk about?"

"That's for you to decide," Blanche offered. "I figure you're here for a reason, Eric."

"I just told you."

Blanche shook his head. "I get the impression that you're someone who had to be talked into coming here in the first place. You certainly seem reticent enough for that. So something had to act as the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. Do you know what that might be?"

"Aside from the super soldier living under my roof and eating all my food?" Eric took another breath. "...Been a rough few weeks, I suppose. Lost my father a short while ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. Past that… I guess I've had a few bad memories work their way back to the surface of my mind."

"What kind of bad memories?"

"I'd rather not say."

"That's fine," Blanche said. "You don't have to discuss them if you don't want to."

Eric stared at him in confusion. "I thought you were supposed to be the one running the show?"

"Only as much as you'll let me. If you're not comfortable discussing something, then we'll avoid that topic for now. But surely there must be something that's on your mind? The young woman in the next room, perhaps?"

"I mean, I am worried about her, if that's what you're wondering."

"Worried in what sense?"

"Worried that Harvey is going to accidentally say the wrong thing and get his arms torn off or something."

Blanche cracked a small grin at that. "Oh, I don't think you'll have to worry about that. He's one of the finest therapists I've ever worked with. If anyone can handle her, it's him."

"That's good, I guess."

"Why don't we discuss her?" Blanche asked. "Nothing off-limits, of course. But you speak highly of her, and she seems to think the world of you. How does that make you feel?"

"Is that what this is going to be about?" Eric suddenly asked. "You're gonna ask me about my feelings and shit?"

"That's my job, yes."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Eric's attention suddenly turned to the clock. Somehow, it had been less than five minutes since their session had begun. His brow furrowed, even as he looked back to Blanche.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," Blanche offered. "This is entirely dependent on what you want to do. If you'd prefer to end the session-"

"Not for as long as she's still talking," Eric said.

"Okay, then. I apologize if I unintentionally reopened a wound of some kind-"

"No, no, it's just… I guess I'm a little protective of her."

"And why is that? Does she remind you of someone?"

Eric hesitated before letting out a sigh. "...To an extent, I suppose."

"Someone from your time in the military, perhaps?"

A bolt of pain lanced through Eric's chest. Slowly, he nodded. "...Yeah. Nobody in particular, but… she kinda reminds me of the more fresh-faced Marines who served under me."

"Then perhaps that'd be a good place to start," Blanche offered. "You can talk as much or as little as you'd like, of course. But whatever you choose, I'm all ears."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Eric turned his attention back to the clock. Seven minutes. He sighed, then looked back to Blanche. And despite the apprehension that rose to the forefront of his mind, he began to talk.