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The lights of the room are a harsh white, carrying the same buzzing they all did. He sits in a stiff chair, decidedly looking everywhere but the therapist. A transfer from Arkham Aslyum if he remembers correctly, he really hopes she won't fall into the statistic of therapists that became super villains.
She clears her throat and his attention snaps to her, she smiles kindly at him. "You've mentioned The Freak quite a bit in pass sessions, as well as him being a focal point for art. Can you elaborate what it means to you?"
He shifts, tapping his fingers in stacatto on his thigh. "Okay," he says after a few moments of consideration. "The Freak... It's... a persona, I suppose." He starts, words sounding so uncertain he cringes. "The idea came from a dream, a monster that haunted my nightmares for years while I researched the treasure. I modified it to fit my needs, and it was like an escapism."
She nods along to his words, jotting down notes periodically. "Now, I don't mean this as a slight, but, it seems you have a similar case to Dr. Crane; this persona seems to almost have a mind of its own. From my observations, it reacts positively towards Fred and negatively at any precevied slight towards him. Do you think it's possible, as you grew older and took in Fred, it became more parental to fit your needs?"
He blinks owlishly at her, and when he says nothing she continues. "You've said it yourself, you were not always the most attentive father and did not know how to connect with him. So... The Freak became a parental thing that you could rely on when you did not know what to do. It could also be in response the trauma you faced as a child, as well. We learn from our parents, and we pass those lessons on if we do not know any better."
He looks down at his feet, matching the rythmn from his fingers with the tap of a foot. "I never thought about it like that." He says at last and a warm, calloused hand rests over his. He looks up and sees her smiling face.
"That's why I'm here, to help you and to provide new perspectives." She rubs her thumbs over his knuckles before sitting back, he finds himself missing the warmth. "People react different to trauma, and how the brain copes with it is truly facsinating. That's why I brought it up, you don't have to have all the answers to my questions right now."
He nods again and offers a small smile of his own. "Thank you,"
She opens her mouth to respond but the P.A cuts her off, "Doctor McCoy, can you please send Mr. Jones to the visitation center? There's someone here to see him."
She startles and gets to her feet, holding out a hand to him. He takes it and pulls himself up, muttering a small thanks. "I suppose we'll conclude our session here, come on, I'll walk you there."
The walk there is quiet, save for the soft buzzing of the lights. He spots blond hair almost immediately and The Freak wails. He stumbles from the force of it, catching himself on the wall. Doctor McCoy looks at him with concern and he waves her off.
He slides into the seat across from Fred, struggling to think over The Freak's inccesent screaming. "We need your help," is all Fred says and he can only nod.