It was Matt who first suggested to L that Bennett have a therapist to talk to. He explained to L that Bennett is very different from him and that he feels things more, his emotions are just much more keen.  Matt understands that's not something L can relate to, but he expressed that Bennett could really benefit from having a professional just to talk to and work through some things with because Bean does get nightmares about being alone and about losing his father the same way he lost his mother, or even about losing his mom all over again...this can then lead to nightmare-induced panic attacks, and it can get rough sometimes.

Bennett has agoraphobia.  He needs to be closed in.  The hoodies help that.  He always sleeps with his back against a wall, curved into a corner preferably, and hugging a pillow.  Or, he will sleep on the couch oftentimes when they are in hotel suites because he prefers to stay in the room with L.  When he does get panic attacks, the best thing is a corner... on the floor against the wall or on a couch.  He'll sit with his knees up and his ankles crossed, and he'll shove his fingers up into his hair and pull on it... if Matt's there, he makes sure he's not pulling too hard.  Bennett also has a bad tick in his left hand that can get really painful when he has anxiety attacks.  It's like pins and needles shooting up from his fingertips to his elbow.  He's VERY sensitive to touch during and just after a panic attack.  He usually goes nonverbal afterwards... not in an emo way, but more in an exhausted sense.  He usually is pretty nonverbal after therapy too... but contemplative as well.

He was a nervous wreck his first session... but looking back, it has proven to be a very good thing for him.

----------------------------------------------------

Bennett sat with on foot on the ground and the heel of the other on the edge of the upholstered chair.  He was slouched down with his headset on and a drawstring hanging from his teeth, and he was visibly nervous.  L sat beside him, mildly intrigued by some article in a magazine.

The door opened then, and a pleasant-looking, middle-aged African British woman with lots of long, thin braids stood in the doorway with her hands clasped before her.  She smiled warmly. 

"Hello!  Come on in."  She gestured with her hand.  "Why don't you both come in to get acquainted, and then we'll go from there?"

Bennett visibly relaxed that he didn't have to go in by himself right away.  He stood up, shoving both hands into his hoodie pockets after turning off the music and moving the headset to around his neck.  The hoodie string moved a little as he chewed a few more times on the end of it.  Then he let it fall to hang again as he and L followed the doctor into the room.

The woman appeared more motherly than doctorly... her office was painted a light shade of pretty green, and she had colorful knick-knacks here and there.  She shut the door after all three had entered, and then turned to outstretch her hand toward Bean.

"Bennett, I'm Dr. Christine Montgomery, but I'll just go ahead and tell you that everyone calls me Dr. Chris.  Pleasure to meet you."

A polite little half smile lifted Bennett's mouth as he took the handshake.  "You too.  Um... thanks..." he said hesitantly.

"Oh, not at all, not at all... and who do you have with you today?"  She looked over to L, her dark eyes smiling even more than her mouth.

"This is my dad."

"Ryuzaki."  L shook the doctor's hand.

The kind doctor smiled warmly with the handshake, then clasped her hands casually before her.  "Well!" she exhaled pleasantly.  "I am SO blessed to see that Bennett has such support.  A good support team is going to be so so crucial for Bennett... and your job as every bit as important as mine... well, MORE, really."  She gestured outward with a calm smile on her face, her casual eye contact moving smoothly between the two.  "So Bennett..."  She looked directly at him then.  "You are NOT alone.  We are here... we are ALL here... for YOU.  Okay?"  The laugh lines around her eyes creased with her encouraging nod.

Bean glanced first to L and then to the doctor.  He took a deep breath and nodded, swallowing the tightness in his throat. 

Dr. Chris looked at him kindly.  "Are you ready?"

"Yeah."  He spoke the word in an exhale and with a nod.

"I'll be right outside," L told him, putting a hand to his son's back.

Bean looked at his papa and nodded. 

Then L exited the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Please," Dr. Chris gestured toward one of the two couches that together formed an L shape.  "Have a seat, get comfortable."

Bean sat down at the end of one couch, the doctor taking a seat in the middle of the other.  She crossed her leg over her knee, settling into the soft cushions.  She had a folder on her lap.

Bennett sat guyishly with his long legs apart, his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together fidgeting a bit.  His eyes couldn't help but travel over the colorful room.

Dr. Chris just watched him for a moment, letting him take in his surroundings.  She was in no hurry.

Bennett looked at her after a moment and then looked down at his hands.  "...sorry..." he muttered.

"Oh, don't be."  She lifted a hand carelessly, then let it fall down to her lap again.  "It's a nice space, isn't it?  I like color as you can see."

"Me too."  Bennett nodded with something likened to a smile.

"Why don't you tell me some other things you like?"

"Oh um..."  Bean's hands wrung together.  "I like music.  A lot."  He smiled nervously, gesturing loosely toward the headset around his neck.  "And um... I like kicking a football around, snowboarding... gaming."  He shrugged.

"So mostly activities you can do on your own would you say?"

"Yeah.  I think so.  But... I like having the option of doing them with my friends."

"Mhm.  You have some good friends?"

"Yeah."  Bennett nodded.  At this, he did smile a little.

"Do you want to tell me about them?"

"Okay, um... well there's Matt... I've known him since I was 4.  He's 8... no, 9?  Well 8 and a half years older than me. Um..."  Bean's bent index finger briefly scratched the side of his face.  "He's like... the fun side of me.  Like... I think I learned a lot about... socializing and... and stuff... from him.  And um..."  He swallowed before continuing.  "And then there's Mello.  He's the same age as Matt, and I met him same time.  He's... strong.  Not... not like physically strong... I- I mean, he IS, but that's not what I meant.  Um..."  Bennett took a deep breath and swallowed again as his voice caught.

"Would you like some water?"

"Oh.  Uh... y-yeah, actually.  Please."

Dr. Chris reached over to an end table to pick up an unopened water bottle and handed it to Bennett.  He thanked her and took a quick drink before setting it down on the floor at his feet. 

"You were telling me about Mello," the doctor said gently.

"Yeah.  Um, like I said, he is a really strong person.  Kinda serious and intimidating if you don't really know him, but I look up to him a lot.  Him and Matt are best friends... more like brothers, and I'm like the little brother."  Bean smiled fondly.  "And then there's Near.  He's... quiet.  Like me, but... more.  Way more.  He's, uh... he's autistic too, and really, really smart.  I like talking to him, and I like spending time with him because he gets that sometimes I just need quiet.  We play chess and do puzzles and other stuff like that."  He stopped talking and looked down at his hands again.  His heart was pounding, and he could feel the muscle spasms in his left hand like sharp electric sparks.  His face winced unwillingly.

"Bennett."

"Yeah?"  He didn't look up.  His right thumb was rubbing little circles on the back of his left hand.

"If there's something that will help you relax, you certainly needn't feel that you need to hold to any etiquette standards on my account."  She gave him a kind smile, the lines around her eyes creasing.

He looked at her a bit painfully, and then looked away.  He took ahold of a drawstring with his fingertips and clamped his back teeth down on the plastic aiglet.

She gave him a moment, then observed calmly, "You seem close to your father."

"Yeah."  He didn't look over.  His head was turned away, in fact, and he continued to hold the hoodie string to his mouth.  His left hand had retreated into the space between his ribcage and right arm.

"Can you tell me about him?"

There was a long pause.  Bean's feet rocked back and forth on the floor.  He really, really wanted to curl up in a corner and shut his eyes tightly.  He had that anxious, fluttery feeling that heightened his senses and put his every nerve on edge.

But Dr. Chris waited patiently.

"Um... my dad is a... h-he has a job I can't talk about."

"I understand.  I've signed papers regarding this.  There's no reason we need to discuss your father's work.  Just tell me about him as a person."

"Okay... Well I... I look up to him more than anyone.  We're really close.  I... I can easily say he's my best friend."

"What do you like to do together?"

"Um, well... I help him with his work.  I like that.  We like to take walks... we play tennis and chess.  And we talk a lot.  I tell him pretty much everything."

"Mhm..."  She nodded, her facial expression kind and even comforting.  "So... you must have a lot of good memories with your father, then."

"I call him Papa."

"Oh, alright."

"I'm Russian."  He made a little gesture toward his mouth with an impish look that said 'in case you couldn't tell from the accent.'  The aiglet was still being rolled around in his back molars.

"Ah."  Her smile and nod indicated that she had that figured.

"But yeah, I do.  I have a lot of good memories."

"Would you like to tell me about one?"

Bennett looked down at his shoes, stimming on the aiglet as he thought.  A wall clock ticked softly, and his mind found a grounding in its rhythm.  He could count the ticks like counting time in music.  He did that quietly for what seemed like awhile, but the doctor waited, giving him space.

"We were in Paris," Bennett finally said softly.  "I was ten, and... he took me to the top of the Eiffel Tower.  I know that sounds cliche, but... it was right at sunset.  I... really like sunsets.  And um... it was summer, so... it was really warm."  Bennett's eyes closed, like was recalling the memory vividly.  "And there were people around, tourists and everything, but it... it was like it was just us.  We just stood there for the longest time looking out over the city and watching the sunset..."  He was quiet again, holding the drawstring to his teeth with his head down, his black bangs falling over his closed eyes.

After the clock ticked softly many times, Dr. Chris asked gently, "Why did you choose that memory?"

Bennett reached up and fluffed his hair with his long fingers.  He sat up a bit and opened his eyes.  "I dunno..." he answered, staring thoughtfully at nothing in particular.  "It just kinda came to me."

"What does that memory make you feel?"

"Safe," he answered right away.  "Content..."

"Would you say your papa makes you feel this way?"

"Yeah."

"Bennett, what makes you feel unsafe?"

To this, he was quiet.  He thought about the question, and his face twitched uncomfortably.  Slowly, after awhile, he opened his mouth to speak.  "I don't like being alone.  Like... I like quiet, and I like having time to myself sometimes but... I have to know where he is."

"Your papa?"

Bean nodded, glancing at her briefly.  His thumb was moving in little circles on the back of his left hand again.  He swallowed.  "I... don't like open spaces.  Or too much going on around me.  I like being... closed in."  He gestured inward with his hands.

"And yet..." Dr. Chris' soothing voice pointed out.  "The memory you chose and described as safe has you at the top of the Eiffel Tower... surrounded by a wide open space and a crowd of noisy people."  Her head tipped to the side a little.

Bean's face suggested he hadn't thought of that.  She let him have a minute to think about it.  The wall clock ticked steadily on.

Bennett winced again as a sharp pain tightened the muscles in his left hand and shot up his forearm like a jagged line of electricity.  His fingers jolted twice in succession, and he pulled his hand inward toward his chest.

"You want to tell me about that?" the doctor asked softly after a moment.

Bennett's eyebrows came together slightly.  "I've always had it," he said quickly.

Dr. Chris said nothing.  She only nodded understandingly.

Bean sighed.  "It... it happens when I'm nervous or... upset.  Anytime my anxiety goes up, it happens.  It's like... all my stress concentrates on the nerves in my left hand."

"Take a minute," she encouraged him.

He nodded and sighed in a deep breath, closing his eyes.  Gradually, the sharp pain subsided, and he slowly brought his hands down to his lap again.

"What would help you right now, Bennett?"

He didn't answer.  He glanced toward the clock and then the door.

"He's right outside that door."

Bennett swallowed and nodded, looking down at his hands.

It was quiet again for a moment.

"Do you want to ask me a question?" Dr. Chris offered.

Bean looked at her.  His eyes traveled to the folder on her lap.  He gestured toward it.  "What's that?"

"Your records," she responded.  "Would you like to see?"

"...okay."

She leaned forward and handed him the folder.

Curiously, he looked through the papers.  Most were rather dull... immunization records, reports from childhood doctor's appointments and check-ups, statistical medical charts... he came across a scan of his birth certificate, and his eyes widened.  He'd never seen it before.  Watari had the original document, he knew.

He read it over carefully, it being in Russian of course.

_________________________________

NAME:
First: Bennett
Middle: Alexei
Last: Petrov

Male
2920 grams
53 centimeters

BORN
September 28, 1998
21:58
to
Father: unknown
Mother: Anya Sashenka Petrova

Moscow Women's Correctional Facility
City of Moscow
Federation of Russia
_________________________________

Included with the scan of the document was a copy of his tiny newborn feet prints.  His pediatric records were all there... and his early psychiatric evauations documenting both his diagnosis of autism and his genius-level IQ.  His foster care records were all there... his adoption papers were there...

It was like holding his story in his own two hands.

Quietly, Bennett closed the folder and handed it back to Dr. Chris.

"Thanks," he said quietly.  "I guess... you already know a lot about me."

"What's on these papers isn't who you are, Bennett.  I don't know the real you.  But I'd like to... if you'll let me."

Something about that sentence relaxed Bean.  He looked at her with his beautiful blue eyes, and his face softened.  He took a deep breath, and he nodded.

"...okay."