Chapter Text
It had been two weeks, and everything was fine for Lester! Until his Mom brought up therapy. He had very adamantly refused, but regardless, he was here now.
When it came down to it, he was glad that his parents chose an online therapist for him. Better than actually having to go anywhere.
He nervously clicked on the Google meet invite, rapidly tapping his foot against the floor. He took a shaky breath after it loaded, he was hoping it’d take longer.
“Hello! I am Ms. Madilyn,” the woman’s voice was soft, “but if you’d feel more comfortable calling me Madi, that's also fine.”
“I’m… uh- Lester,” he blurted out, wait, wouldn't she already know that? Fuuuck I'm an idiot.
“It’s nice to meet you, Lester,” she said politely, “now, I'm going to ask a few questions, is that alright with you?”
“Mhm…”
“Alright, what brought you to seek therapy?”
I don't want to be in therapy, he wanted to say, but instead, what came out was, “my mom suggested that therapy would be good for me.”
Madilyn hummed and wrote something down, before continuing, “and what do you hope to achieve from therapy?”
This was a harder question to respond to. What did Lester want? He wasn't sure… was that a valid answer? What if it wasn't, what if he was just wasting her time- he didn't even want therapy in the first place!
“I’m not really sure, I guess I want to figure out some things.”
“Anything in particular you wanna figure out?”
“I don't really know… sorry.” Lester was being honest, for the most part.
“Thats fine, you don't have to apologize.” Lester strongly disagreed with her, not that he’d say that, of course, “Now, do you mind explaining more about what happened during the period you were gone? If you don't feel comfortable yet, that's fine.”
Lester wasn't sure where to start. This had been so easy when he was chatting with his online friends, why couldn't he now!?
He tapped his fingers against the desk repeatedly, trying to think of where to start, maybe I should tell a half-truth? There's no way she’d believe what actually happened.
Okay, yeah, he could do that.
“Uh, well, I don't remember much, I was…” think of a good lie, come on, “out of my head, you could say, like… in survival mode too much to think?”
He hoped that lie was good enough.
“Hm, It’s not uncommon for people in high-stress or traumatic situations to forget things after the fact,” she paused, writing that down, “is there anything in specific you do remember?”
Right, he tried to remember what Apollo would talk about when they were able to have a conversation, he remembers him talking about Meg a lot, a girl who was manipulated into betraying him but came back to him later- Apollo also talked about his kids a lot.
“I wasn't alone, there were other people with me, almost always the same people, but a different amount of them at different times, I don't remember to much other than a girl that was a few years younger than me, and a lot of others—some of them were older, some younger—one of them… died?” he sounded unsure about that last part, Apollo had cried while attempting to explain it, maybe Jason was the kid’s name?
Madilyn quickly scribbled something down, “did you witness their death yourself or—”
“I witnessed it, but… I don't remember a lot, like I said.” technically the truth... Kinda.
“Right.”
And the session continued like that for fifteen more minutes, and when it was over, Lester felt like he wanted to pass out, because talking to someone is hard, and constantly lying is even harder.
Regardless of what he wants to do, he gets up, leaving his room. Mom is making lunch, grilled cheese sandwiches and spicy tomato soup. Even though Lester had the spice tolerance of a… he couldn't think of a comparison, he just couldn't handle spice. Wait, what was he thinking about again?
Oh right! It's his favorite food. He feels silly now, also, buddy, Lester, your mom is talking to you.
“Oh! Huh? Sorry I was distracted.”
“I said, how did therapy go? Was she nice?” She asked, “If she isn't nice, I'm sure we can find a better one-”
“She’s fine, mom.” He didn't like how tired his own voice sounded.
“Oh, good!” Lester watched as his mother went back to making the grilled cheeses(one was already slightly burnt).
…He wasn't sure of what to think of today, but maybe things were getting better? He wasn't too sure about that.