Chapter Text
The Captain sat uncomfortably in the waiting room. He had sworn it wouldn’t be a big deal, but surely enough as soon as he stepped foot into the grey room with its grey chairs and grey tables, he could feel everything. It was like he had become hyper aware of his existence, he could feel every texture, smell every scent, hear every scatter of muffled chatter through thin office walls, was it an office? Well, it was an office in the same sense that a doctor’s office is an office, because that’s what it was, only he had never been to this kind of doctor before.
There was a small colouring book on the table, sparing the area the only splash of colour it would ever see. A dinosaur was messily coloured in red crayon by hands that clearly did not care about the borders of lines. Beside the dino he could see a message written in bold lettering. ‘You’re Dino-mite’ is what it said, and the Captain was not sure what the implications of that were, or why it was in a children’s colouring book.
The waiting room was empty except for him, and so when a door creaked open and a man in a neat suit and coat stepped out, the Captain knew it was his cue to stand. With the help of his cane, he pushed himself out of the chair, producing a series of cracks which prompted slight concerned looks from the man in front of him.
It was like he was teleported to a different dimension as he stepped into the office space, and this dimension had colour. The walls were a certain shade of yellow that he had never seen used for a wall colour before, and there were five bean bags alongside some proper chairs, the floors were carpeted and cloud shaped lights hung above them from a popcorn ceiling. The Captain was really starting to question if he was the target market for this office.
“Have a seat,” the man said, gesturing to the bean bags. Reluctantly, the Captain took a seat on one of the proper chairs. The doctor followed suit and took a seat across from him.
“Maddocks,” the man held out his hand and smiled tightly.
“Captain,” he grabbed his hand for a split second before returning it to its place in his lap.
“Captain? Is that your name or…”
“You may call me Captain,” and he had said it a bit too sharply.
“All right then, Captain,” Maddocks reclined into his seat, “we match.”
“Excuse me?”
He pointed to the cane resting against the wooden chair and grabbed his own from wherever it had been hiding from the Captain's view, “we match,” he said again with a smile. Ridiculous.
“I hardly see how that’s related,” the Captain scoffed.
“It isn’t,” Maddocks replied, “but it’s nice to have something in common.”
The Captain released a breath and tapped his foot. He could have just as easily pointed out something like his moustache or tie, but instead the man pointed out the one thing that meant that he could not be of any use. Noticing his impatience, Maddocks cleared his throat and sat up straight again.
“Right,” he smiled again, “do you have anything specific you wanted to talk about?”
“Nothing of note,” the Captain lied, “well, certainly nothing that would concern you.”
“It can be anything, Captain,” he shrugged, “no one said it had to concern me.”
“Well then what’s the point? You don’t go to a doctor just to not talk about your sickness.”
“Except I’m not just a doctor,” Maddocks leaned forward, “I’m a detective.”
This didn’t grant the Captain any answers and instead left him with a crease between his brow. This really was not going as smooth as he was told it would.
“If you knew what the problem was, I’m willing to bet you would have already told me,” Maddocks added, “since you haven’t, I’m here to figure it out.”
“There isn't a problem,” he insisted
“Maybe not a problem, but whatever you choose to call it there is a reason you are here, right?”
The Captain rolled his eyes and sighed, he found the whole thing ridiculous, he found himself regretting ever listening to what his housemates had told him.
“The reason I am here is because someone kept telling me to, and this is the only way to properly shut them up, so here I am.”
“Everything’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”
“No. If there was a problem I would bally well handle it myself, and if I somehow couldn’t, I would be straight to the point and tell you. Talking about feelings never got anyone anywhere.”
“You would be surprised.”
“What could I possibly say to you then?”
“Anything you like,” seeing that the Captain wasn’t satisfied with the answer, he rephrased, “tell me about your day, what happened?”
The Captain considered this for a moment, thinking of what would possibly merit sharing to the man. His lips parted briefly, then shut again, where could he possibly start? He decided to begin with the most unrelated of his troubles.
“The…owner of my apartment complex,” he cleared his throat, “died. Earlier today, actually.”
“Oh?” Maddocks straightened his shoulders, “very sorry to hear that.”
“I didn’t know her very well, it sometimes felt like she couldn’t see us,” the Captain continued, “my only complaint is how long it took for them to remove her body,” the therapist looked at him in a way that was a clear attempt at concealing a reaction, “that, and the erm…new management.”
“Tell me about that,” Christ, this man was insufferable.
“The new owner, some distant relative who didn’t even know the woman, and her husband,” he spat every word out like they were rotten in his mouth, “they want to turn the place into some hotel.”
The Captain looked up at Maddocks for a response, but found he was only bobbing his head lightly, scratching down notes on his clipboard. It actually made the Captain feel more at ease, like this were merely an assessment and nothing else. There was a clear goal in this conversation, and that he could handle.
“That won't be happening any time soon, though,” he stated matter of factly, “not with the state the building’s in at the moment. Heather, the previous owner, hardly put any effort into repairs as she got older. Why, she hardly ever even cared for it after taking over from her older sister, Stephanie.”
“Are you happy there, then?” Maddocks looked up from his papers, “what with the building being in some state of disrepair.”
“I wouldn’t call myself happy, far from it. I’m practically stuck there, I’ve got no choice but to stay at least until I save up enough,” he complained, “the people there are insufferable, too, even more so now that there’s new people.”
“Do you have anyone you’d call your friends?”
“Quite frankly I would rather befriend a loaded grenade,” he swung one leg over the other and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I suppose Stephanie would be the most bearable, she can’t stand the others either.”
“Do you know why you might find them insufferable?”
“Well they can't listen to a bally thing I say! A bunch of incompetent good for nothings, they are. They’re the ones who wanted me to come here. Well, two of them, Patrick and Katherine. Honestly, they wouldn’t stop pestering me.”
He felt the slightest bit bad for bad mouthing Kitty. She was a sweet girl and he knew she meant the best, but sometimes she just didn’t know when to stop.
“Do you think they might want you here because they care about you and want you to get help?” Maddocks tilted his head.
“They don’t care about me, they want me out of the house,” he insisted, “It doesn’t matter either way, this discussion is going nowhere.”
“I don’t think it’s going nowhere.”
“That’s because you lot all over-examine everything that’s said, and that’s a trait I would normally respect, sir, but believe me here, the issue is not something wrong with me, it’s them,” he pointed behind him as though they would be standing there, looming over their conversation, “you remind me of Thomas, looking into every single action and word, trying to dig out some deeper meaning when there isn’t one.”
“I never said there was a deeper meaning.”
The Captain couldn’t argue with that, he had never said anything about a deeper meaning, hell, he had hardly said anything at all this entire time. The majority of the session had just been the Captain babbling on about his housemates, as if they had any importance in his life whatsoever.
“I’m afraid we’re out of time, Captain,” he spoke again, “I’ll see you again, same time next week, alright?”
“Already?”
“‘Fraid so.”
It sounded sarcastic when he said it, and of course it was. This man was no different from the others, and he was already tired of the Captain. Of course he was.
The Captain made his way out of the office and out the front door. Stepping into the grey day ahead of him, feeling ever so slightly more frustrated than he had been before.