Chapter Text
A sigh leaves your lips as you had your head placed on your fisted hand looking at the window. It was a gloomy afternoon. The clouds covered the warm sun and your mom’s slow driving was killing you slowly. Although, you did like how her speed was going to get you late for your appointment that you weren’t too thrilled to attend.
But you spoke a bit too soon.
“We’re here”, your mom spoke in a high pitched tone. “And please, cooperate with this therapist. They’re trying to help you and they can’t help if you chase them away. How do you even do it? You’re so quiet.”
You exit the car and shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know mom. I don’t enjoy therapy ‘cause quite frankly I don’t need it but since you insist. Trying to make you proud.” Bullshit.
Your mother gives you an encouraging smile and you walk away before you can hear your mother’s following words.
You stand outside the therapy institution and groan, clicking your tongue in annoyance. Here we go . Again.
Therapy was the after school activity you attended every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Normally, one would go to French lessons, piano lessons, or tennis practices, but you were special.
Or that’s what they’d call you in therapy to not hurt your feelings and label you as insane.
Did you actually suffer from any mental illnesses? No, you were fortunate. But you simply were a quiet burn-out person who didn’t wish to socialize or talk about your feelings. You were very closed. Getting you to talk about how you truly feel was a mission set to fail.
You didn’t have friends, although you’re in your second year in college and you’re supposed to make friends. People would enter college excited to enter a new environment, meet people, and have fun. Nope, not for you. Those were things you avoided, you simply went to the school for the purpose of learning and nothing more. Also to move away from your mother who was always worrying way too much for you.
You lived in a dorm with another girl you never had one full conversation with, unless it was regarding the room. Do you have the room keys because I won’t be in the room to open it? Are you going to leave the room so I can lock it? Can I close the lights because I’m tired? These types of conversations and nothing more.
The only other person you engaged in a conversation with was your mom, who was always up your ass. Annoying.
So why did therapists always leave you? You seemed like such a well behaved person.
Well, let’s find out.
“Hey Annie, how are you?” You asked the welcoming receptionist, she was your favorite person you’d ever met. Funny, sarcastic and yet very intelligent. You felt as if she was the only person who could match your energy.
Would you consider her your friend? Absolutely not.
“Bored to death . Why is everyone so boring here? Someone please start a fight or commit arson or something?” She joked behind her desk.
“Are you trying to hint me something?” You raised your brow at her, whispering the words.
She looked around, side to side, and whispered back to you, “If you do so, I was never involved. You heard nothing from me.”
You motion zipping your lips, “You involved? Never!”
“Atta girl”, she laughs.
“So who’s accompanying me today?” You tap your finger on her desk.
Annie shook her head, “Another therapist? Again huh?”
You shrug.
“Dr.Ackerman is waiting for you at the usual room”, she points at the end of the hall and you nod before leaving.
You arrive at the large intimidating door and knock softly. “Enter”, you hear. A man with a deep voice, he sounded exhausted. Perfect.
You place your front hair strands behind your ear and enter the room slowly. The man’s seated on the typical therapist chair with his back turned at you so you couldn’t see his facial features. You walk to the couch across from him and sit there.
You raise your head to see his face and before you stood a short man, even though he was seated, you could tell he was a short heighted man. Short men are always gremlins or cocky bastards, no in between.
His eye bags were worse than yours, looked like he hadn’t slept in months, and the man looked like he wanted to leave that hell hole. You didn’t blame him.
“Hello Miss, I am your new therapist Levi Ackerman. You may call me Dr.Ackerman. I looked over at your file and saw you’ve made a number of three therapists quit you as a patient”, he flipped over the papers attached to his clipboard, not giving you any attention, and you nod shyly.
“I’ll be honest with you, I thought you’d be a nut job. But then I saw your struggles and imagine my reaction when your problem was “having trouble opening up””, finally he looked at you, your eyes locked.
You shrug, not knowing what other response to give him.
“Please try to tell me something about you. I already know your name, age, and what school you attend, the basics. But I really want to know why a brat like you drove three excellent therapists away. Please start off by the usual introduction you give therapists; things like your interests, your school life, what you're studying in school, your family life, etc. Entertain me”, he twirled his hand in the air.
The way the man spoke surprised you, he wasn’t like the regular therapists. He didn’t even try to act like he cared like others could to emphasize and sympathize with your situation. You know, the usual, the same old bullshit.
“My interests; nothing in particular, nothing I could think of right now. My school life; walk to classes, attend them, study, eat, go back to the dorm to sleep, repeat.”
“No friends? No partying or group gathering, or whatever you kids do now?”
“Nope”, you pop the ‘p’.
“Hmph”, he squirts his eyes at you and writes down notes. Was he already judging you so harshly?
“My major is psychology-”
“Hah”, he clicked his tongue at you and shook his head. Ironic , he thought, you were quite humorous.
“Something wrong?”
“Oh no, no, I apologize. Go on”, he stopped writing and motioned for you to continue.
“Dr.Ackerman”, you call out to him in a low tone.
“Yes?” A tiny bit of curiosity is heard in his tone.
“You seem to not be taking me seriously but I am trying to change for the better here so could you please at least act like you care. There’s something important I want to share with you about my family life”, you gulp, fidgeting your leg. He eyes you, noting down your behavior.
“I apologize if I come off cold. I do care and I am trying to help so please do share. I am all ears”, his voice changed slightly, becoming gentler. “It’s a safe environment here, everything you say won’t be heard anywhere else. No worries, your mother won’t know, you’re an adult after all.”
“Thank you doc, I trust you. S-so I was raised by a single mother. I care for her deeply, she’s all I have. A-and my parents are divorced. I’ve met my father before but when he was younger he’d treat us horribly. He’d be present at times, but never emotionally. The man I thought I could trust the most, never was there to hear me because he was busy… busy… cheating on my mother”, you plant your face on your palms and start to cry.
The doctor didn’t speak.
“My mother was not an open person either at the time because of how badly my father had hurt her emotionally. I did wish to comfort her… I did but I didn’t know how. Years of having no direct affection from your parents leads to this. Of course, I turned out like this”, you choke out a sob.
You hear a sudden light noise, an object hitting the table. You look up to the table and notice a pack of tissues.
“Please calm yourself down and we can unbox everything together.”
You nod and take a tissue to wipe your tears away. “My mother is better now, I’m glad she’s found happiness. She too attended therapy and it was effective on her so I wish it would be the same for me.”
He nods, “I understand”.
“Doctor?”
“Hmph?”
“I shared something personal with you, could you please do the same? I think it would make me feel better. You don’t have to, of course, but I would appreciate it”, you show him the glossy eyes from the tears and he sighs.
“Alright kid”, he stood from the chair and removed his white therapist coat, hanging it. He wore navy blue formal pants and a white formal shirt, hanging his upper body firmly with the same color navy blue vest. His physical beauty made up for the lack of height.
“I wasn’t always a therapist, I used to serve in the military”, he returned back to the chair and looked up at the ceiling as he told his touching story. “I was a great soldier, called me “Humanity’s Strongest”. I had friends there, although I promised myself I wouldn’t get emotionally connected to anyone. One man, Erwin, was the best friend someone could ask for. He was charming, a leader, caring, and wise man. I admired the way he worked, a role model to the other soldiers.”
Tic! Toc! The wall clock’s ticking seemed louder than usual. It was creating an overwhelming atmosphere, slightly suffocating.
He sighed as you heard carefully. “But you know how wars are… nasty. My buddy was killed, he sacrificed himself saving us. The only friend I ever truly liked died right in front of my eyes and I was helpless, there was nothing I could do. He was shot, a bullet to the heart, hit from the back. An instant death, no suffering. The man died with a smile on his face.”
He lowers his head as he hears you let out another cry. “I’m sorry”, you blow your nose, “But it was such a touching story. Is that how you got the scar doc?”
He nods, touching his small knife scar across the edges of his lips with the tips of his fingers. He spreads his legs and leans forward to you. “Was my story personal enough for you?”
You look at him, blowing your nose once more, and shyly nodding. “I’m sorry I made you recall such a hurtful event.”
“Hmph, right. Now what interests me most is how you major in psychology yet you’re an excellent actress. You sure you’re not actually an actress in the making?”
“W-what? I don’t understand.”
“Cut the crap brat, I can tell those are crocodile tears. Your family story is obviously fake, the other therapists told me your story. Use the “my dad wasn’t present” card, “that’s why I’m very closed and not emotionally ready to open up”. You’re quite manipulative, Miss”, he gave you a smirk, the first emotion shown from his usual stone cold expression.
You wipe away the remaining tears and clap, “Bravo. The first doctor to not crack. Now you tell me doc, why are you pulling the same card manipulating your fragile patient?”
He chuckles with no humor, “Oh you’re no fragile patient. I simply wanted to put a brat like you in their place. You can’t fool me.”
“You must have dealt with your fair share of trauma to see through my act, takes one to know one”, you observe.
“Oh stop analyzing me, you still got time before becoming a therapist.”
“But it’s clear ‘cause you’re the first to see through me. The other ones were old white men who lived high class lives, not a worry in the world. Do you think buffoons like that could help me? Fuck no.”
“Quite chatty for someone written as “quiet””, he looked back at your patient report.
You smirk, “Guess you’re the first person to have entertained me”.
“Flattered”, he claps, “Time’s up. Get the hell out of my office. I’ll see you in two days; Wednesday, same place, same time. And make sure you’re actually trying to get help or don’t come back. Don’t have the time to deal with brats like you.”
You stand abruptly from the couch, walking to the door to exit. “Can’t wait, Dr.Ackerman. ”
You walk to the exit door and greet Annie on the way out. “You didn’t drive this one mad. Does that mean it went well?”
“ Excellent , can’t wait to see you on Wednesday”, you wave happily.
Annie looks baffled at you and then turns to Levi, who is checking out of his shift. “What did you do to her?” A small laugh escaped her, “I think you broke her, that’s impossible.”
“Broke her? Oh no, didn’t even crack her shell. But I will… soon. I simply played her game and she enjoyed it”, he says as he leaves.
As you enter the car, being bombarded with questions from your worried mother, you turn to your usual spot, looking at the window. You spot the doctor walking away and scoff, giving him a sly smirk. He rolls his eyes at you.
It’s on doctor Levi Ackerman. I can’t wait.