Raiel's Point:

I had to leave earlier than usual to get to the hospital. It wasn't so much of an issue, I had barely slept anyway. There was something about feeling Edam at finger's touch that had taken me all the way through the night without so much as a wink. I hated to admit it, I barely wanted to, but I had actually grown fond of him. I don't know if he would still sleep in my bedroom. To be frank, I don't think he would even want to stay in the same house with me. Still, there was that small moment where I looked into his eyes, and there was some mutual understanding.

Maybe it's because we were both equally confused by this situation and onslaught of emotion, myself more than him. I made sure to check on him before I left, much to Adda's own silent delight. Now, it was just to begin the therapy process which, heaven willing, would be a good first step in establishing communication. I think I'll also check by the specialist here to see if I can't get any medications to help him through the heat period that was coming a bit earlier than anticipated.

The cafeteria was luckily open, so I chose to go there first to get a cup of tea before the entire therapy process. They didn't have much, I think it wasn't worthwhile to keep stock when most people drank coffee while waiting for lengthy surgeries or herbal teas posing an issue with the medications administered. Still, a cup of tea was made and it was had while I walked to the office.

The therapist wasn't in yet and the room was still dark. Still, the tea provided a necessary distraction while I tried to think of every possible question he could ask. After the research, the questions and all this preparation, it did little to actually calm me down and, had I not known better, I would've had an anxiety attack.

The half-hour passed and the receptionist was opening the door to the therapy room, saying her boss was just checking on those in the ward before coming down. I followed her in and she seemed very kindly, youthful. I assume that she saw the same as the therapist himself, so it would take a toll on her. She sat down and pulled out the file that had my name on it, and a bunch of notes from some previous years spent in therapy.

"Not your first time," she asked quietly as she pulled out the details from the folder to log into the system.

"Far from it," I said quietly. As much as I hated remembering it, it was still a good part of my life spent in therapy, a horrible time. 'You can't escape from your past,' as Luisa would say, 'but you can use it to build some future'.

Of course, she was drunk when she said that and normally she's much less philosophical and more akin to our father. I barely noticed the receptionist hand me a form to get me logged into the hospital's database, the previous hospital (and therapist) having been a long faded memory. I sat down, filling it out and eventually just sitting there. I tapped the pen against the clipboard a few times, until a grunt woke me up from my reveries and I saw the receptionist looking over the monitor at me. Chuckling nervously, I handed it to her and she took it.

"New therapist, first time jitters," she attempted to comfort me. I nodded and stuck my hands in my pockets, barely able to rest for a minute before the therapist came in. He had a messenger bag and, when he saw me, it was a click. Two alphas, strange for an alpha to be a therapist. Still, he didn't acknowledge it but moved to unlock his office, the receptionist greeting him as he passed.

Middle-aged, his pheromones were relatively weaker. Eventually, he gestured me in and pointed to the couch across from him and so began the arduous torture...

"Your file says you have issues with emotional regulation, have you consulted a specialist about that?"

I looked up at him. His eyes were looking down at my hands and he wrote something on his pad before waiting for my answer.

"It was our first trip. Eventually, we assumed the issue to be mental, rather than physical. I was diagnosed with a depressive disorder, some other things stemmed from it and the use of medications."

"Are you still on those medications?"

"No, I stopped taking them a few months back."

"If I may ask, why?"

"Stress and some events planned in the family," I trailed off, thinking about that time my family took a vacation and my father said he found the cutest little omega for me, "I forgot to take them and a day turned into a week and a week into a month."

"Have you experienced any other signs of withdrawal?"

"Like what?"

"Insomnia, headaches, episode onset," he looked down at my hands, "anxiety?"

"Mainly headaches and anxiety, but nothing too major."

"Well, it's not like we can immediately get you back on them but we can try to refer you to our on-site psychiatrist. Beyond that, we can also begin cognitive therapy to maybe provide ways of coping with anger, anxiety, insomnia," he said quietly, showing a finger for each of the symptoms he felt I would have.

"Beyond that, is there anything else that may be," he stopped, looking for the right word, "contributing to or aggravating these symptoms?"

My mind flashed to Edam, the omega who I had the opportunity to wash yesterday. He must've picked it up because he was writing down something, again.

"Your pheromones tell me you're dealing with post-rut as well, I take it you have an omega?"

Did I really have him, or did I want to think I had him... was I actually going to lie to this man?

I let out a groan and held my head in my hands. Raising his eyebrow, the therapist continued writing on his pad before saying quietly:

"Problems in paradise?"

"Yeah, problems," I admitted through gritted teeth, slumping back into my chair.

"I - we didn't get off on the right foot and, ever since then, we've just been going back and forth between emotions and I honestly don't know how I feel myself. On one hand, I need him like the air I breathe but on the other hand, I hate the circumstances. It's like an entire issue of contradicting forces and I'm stuck in the middle with all this pressure on me and it feels like I can't be with him without strings..." 

I startled myself, even the therapist, with the sudden confession. It was cathartic, to say the least. He nodded, turning back and down and scribbling but his face was lighter. He had an elderly smile now and when he looked back up, it only grew wider.

"I'm glad you opened up, why don't we start with some of the strings you feel in this relationship?"