Work Text:
"I want - " Jeremy started, being cut off by his parents.
"To see a psychiatrist?" Mr. and Mrs. Heere suggested in unison.
Jeremy rolled his eyes and shook his head, annoyed. "No! I want to speak with Whizzer!"
"You want to speak with whom?" His father asked in disbelief.
"With Whizzer," the boy repeated, crossing his arms.
Jeremy's parents looked at each other. "With Whizzer.." they mumbled.
"Oh my God," Mr. Heere sighed. He reluctantly dialed the phone and called his lover.
**
"Whizzer, come in, Jeremy wanted to talk to you," Mr. Heere explained, letting Whizzer in.
Whizzer kneeled in front of Jeremy on one knee, laying his arm on the raised knee and looking up at the boy. "What did you need to talk about, Jeremy?"
"Whizzer, do you think I should see a psychiatrist?"
Whizzer let out a soft laugh, a grin on his face.
"I don't really think so, Jeremy."
Mr. Heere kicked Whizzer, so he quickly changed his answer.
"Maybe you should, Jeremy."
Mrs. Heere cleared her throat. C'mon, Whizzer, who's side are you on?
"Jeremy, you absolutely should see a psychiatrist," Whizzer said matter-of-factly, bracing himself for anymore scolding.
Jeremy nodded, uncrossing his arms. "Alright. I'll go -"
"He'll go," Whizzer said, standing up.
"Oh, goodness, he'll go!" Mrs. Heere repeated happily.
"- But only if he comes here."