Chapter Text
- Sometimes when I wake up, I find myself sitting on a park bench. Sometimes I was lying unconscious in the grass, sometimes was in front of the apartment. There will be 2-3 such days a week.
The doctor intently takes notes in his notebook, still not looking up at Tim for once. Today is his routine check-up, and Tim is recounting the strange situation he has seen during the week - like always.
- My limbs were frozen, and my head was empty. There wasn't any memory remaining me going to such a place like that. I then ran home, and there was no sign of breaking doors or something. The cameras in the apartment and the one I have set secretly didn't record anything, they just got flitch sometimes.
- Do you see yourself moving, Mr. Wright?
- ...Yes, I do.
- And nothing unusual from that?
- ...There's nothing.
Tim gulps. His eyes try to guess what the doctor in front of him is writing in the little notebook. It could be some signs Tim just mentioned. Or particular, some drafts, or a mind map linking what Tim said early to diagnose and treat. Even when Brian died, these things never stopped.
- Okay, I understand. I'll give you the medicine just in case that symptoms happen again. We're still having the therapy this Wednesday, will you be okay with that?
- Yes, doctor.
- ...Mr. Wright.
Tim stuns. The man on the black chair in front of him has put his pen down and hands on the table. The doctor holds his hands together, slightly stooping seems watching Tim again. This situation brings Tim a little uncomfortable. It seems that with every eye contact, a hidden thought of his could be read by this doctor.
- This would be worse if you and I couldn't be honest with each other, right?
Tim gulps, slightly avoiding the look from the man on the opposite.
- You're not hiding anything from me, are you?
- ...I'm not, doctor. I have told everything I know.
- I believe what you say, Mr. Wright, about what has happened to you, and your innocence.
The weakness crept through Tim's heart. He looks down, hands trembling and clenching tight on his thigh. He can't reveal this faint of himself anymore, but thing like he gonna cry.
- It'll be fine, Mr. Wright. I'll help you as much as I can, I promise.
Take medicine and treatment regularly. It is the course to save you from this, okay?
- ...I get it.
- Look up Mr. Wright, it's okay, there's nothing to hide here. This room is just you and me.
A light hand rests on Tim's shoulder, but he quickly leans to the other side. Looking up at the therapist, that man still not seems sad or something. His eyes only show empathy and an understanding look for Tim.
The rest of the therapy was nothing needed to talk about. The doctor chatted with Tim, asked daily questions, and treated him like a friend. However, a part of Tim still refuses it, preventing him from getting on.
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- TIM, TIM, OVER HERE!
On the walking street covered with the cold of autumn, from afar, appearing in front of Tim's eyes was a boy somewhere 14 waving to him on the swing. If Tim didn't know that silly smiling face belonged to a 19-year-old boy, he wouldn't understand what that brat was doing around in this mental hospital.
- When did you finish, kid? Don't you feel cold?
- I quite like the autumn cold, you know? Besides, you also know my ability to feel is quite weak. Look, I'm not gonna get sick that easy. I'm so covered up that I can't breathe now.
The boy nudges Tim's arm jokingly. In response, Tim laughs and pushes Toby's head down, ruffling his curly brown hair until it's a mess. Tim met Toby just last month, when he first visited this hospital.
Tobias Erin Roger is the name of the boy, a patient with CIP - Congenital insensitivity to pain. According to what Toby has said, he had been treated here for a very long time, so long that he couldn't remember when.
- You should stop calling people by their first name. Shouldn't you at least call me Wright or Mr. Wright? That's courtesy, Roger.
- Wright, Timothy, Timmy. At least you don't mind me calling you Tim, right? Otherwise, you can call me Toby instead of Tobias or Roger. It's so annoying.
- So that's what a 19-year-old boy said with the courtesy of this society? I give up on you.
Tim pulls Toby into his lap joking, in response, the boy tried to push him down but failed. Tim was one step faster, round to the back then hold Toby's waist preventing him from falling to the brick floor below. At times like this, Toby just glares at him scowling to make Tim let him go, but then the little boy laughs, praising Tim has a good reflexes.
Compared to Tim's therapist, he felt more connected and accepted when he was with Toby.
- Where do you want to go, kid? I pay for ice cream this time, you choose the place.
- Shall we go to the mall together, next time I will treat you a meal to requite you have paid the last time Timmy. Currently, I haven't received my wage. I make my tough manager a little angry so he's keeping my salary for a while.
- Haha, then let's go to the shopping center. This time don't embarrass me with your little play game like last time. Getting banned from there once is enough for me.
- But it's fun, you have to admit it to me, right? - Toby giggles, he always does that to make Tim not mad at him - Also, acting like an adult, being obedient, and acting in a stereotyped was too boring for me.
- It's better than not having a chance to try other hobbies next time - Tim glances at Toby, then pats the boy who also scowling - Listen to me and I will give you 2 ice creams.
- 5 of them and I will consider it.
- Just 3! Eat less your little brat. You won't know when your stomach will dance to disco music.
- Haha what does that mean you dumbass? - Toby leans his head on Tim and laughs, but his mood seems happier - I will listen to you because of the disco music. 2 for me and 1 for you, agree?
In response to Toby, Tim smiles, grabs the boy's shoulder and pulls him to the parking place where his car was parked.
Tim has always felt close to Toby since the first meeting. Sometimes, he thinks he has known this kid a long time ago. Before he could recognize it, Toby has played an important role in Tim's life.