Chapter Text
Whatever type of therapy they tried, nothing seemed to work on Bill; play therapy, music therapy, gestalt therapy, exposure therapy; the list goes on. Today they had decided to try age regression therapy with Bill.
Bill's therapist had proposed the idea to him. Bill, of course, thought it was ridiculous. He was trillions of years old- not a child. Kids were weak, whiny, powerless creatures that smelled and cried. He didn't see how acting like such a useless life form could make him feel 'safe' or calm. He had told this to the therapist, angrily. However, Bill had been opposed to every form of therapy that had been offered to him, so the nurses knew better than to give into his protests and to try it with him anyway.
For a while the nurse sat with him in his room. He'd given him some stuff such as a blanket, plushies, toys and some snacks. He was gentle with Bill, trying to encourage him to allow himself to relax and seeing if he would take to the offered items. But this just angered Bill- the nurses' unnaturally soft tone as he spoke to him, the items.. the EVERYTHING! They were treating him as though he were weak. Treating him as though he were powerless. Treating him as though he were a child. He hated this, and the one-on-one session was abruptly ended when Bill started getting angry and tried to physically lash out at the nurse.
He, of course, was escorted from the room. Bill was medicated and left alone, for now.
Bill, now feeling calmer but still a tad angry, decided to investigate the items. 'How ridiculous,' he thought to himself. They were trying to make him seem weak! This was-
He noticed two plushies that were in the range of objects.. a red rabbit and a blue duck. They reminded him of them.
He scooped up the plushies and held them as he scanned the rest of the items. There was some toys similar to those he had been given when he was in play therapy, some cheese puffs, a PB&J sandwich without crusts and a blanket with various colored triangles all over it. He grabbed the last two mentioned also and made his way over to his bed to sit down.
As he sat down he dumped the items on the bed; all except for the blue plush. It reminded him of his mom, and he had been close with his mom, so part of him wanted to hold onto it. He found it extremely dumb; wanting to hold onto a stupid plush of all things seemed like a sign of weakness... but h also couldn't find it in himself to let go of it.
He didn't know why he had latched onto these items specifically- he wasn't going to accept this form of 'therapy' after that nurse had treated him the way he did. Yet.. he fund some sort of comfort in these items.
...
He was thinking about his parents again. He missed them.
...
He seemed to have zoned out a bit, because suddenly he was sobbing and another nurse had come in to help him. He wasn't a crier, but it seemed he had been crying for a while now with the way his eye stung. He was shaking. He wanted to stop crying, but couldn't. He was too overcome by emotions he couldn't name. By thought of his parents. He missed them.
The nurse wrapped the blanket around him and tried to calm him- a few minutes later and he had tired himself out. Not tired enough to sleep, but tired enough that he couldn't cry anymore. His physical form in the theraprism was a nuisance for energy.
The nurse left when he had calmed.
He found himself subconsciously hugging onto the plush he had been holding. Had he been thinking right he'd have thrown it away from him and berated himself for showing such weakness, but he wasn't thinking properly. His mind felt.. fuzzy? He wasn't sure. He wasn't thinking too much. All he could really process right now was that the plush was soft and fluffy and some part of him obviously liked that. Combined with the warmth and softness of the blanket that had been wrapped around him, he felt safe. He felt.. small, in a way. He let himself feel this sense of safety. He couldn't find it in himself to fight against it.
Around five minutes later the nurse from earlier retuned, fixing his glasses and taking a deep breath as he prepared himself for the rest of Bill's therapy session; the last one had only lasted around 10 minutes and the nurse was obligated to complete the 90 minute therapy session; it was mandatory in the theraprism that patients get a minimum 90 minutes therapy wether it be group therapy or one-on-one, and Bill definetly wouldn't be going to the group today after that.. incident.
'..Bill?' The nurse spoke, slowly making his way into the room as he closed the door behind him. He brace himself for Bill's usual yelling, but Bill just mumbled something incomprehensible in response. His voice was soft and quiet which was, ofcourse, way out of the ordinary for Bill. He sounded like a totally different person.
'Bill, are you oka-' The nurse was asking, but his question was answered when he saw Bill cuddled into the blanket with one of the plushies. He'd dealt with enough patients regressing to know what was going on.
'Do you wanna talk, bud, or do you just want me to leave you alone for now?' The nurse asked, trying to figure out how this session would go.
'...alone,' Bill mumbled.
The nurse nodded/ 'Just call me if you need anything,' he said as he sat down at the desk and took out his book.
Bill sat on the bed quietly for a few more minutes not really doing anything. After a while, he picked up the red plush and held it beside the blue one.
'Do you have a yellow one?' Bill asked quietly.
The nurse was a bit startled by the sudden question. 'Uh- yeah! I'll go get you a yellow plush. You sit tight buddy.' He told Bill. He made his way out of the room.
A few minutes later the nurse was still out. Bill was pretty hungry, so he took out the sandwich.
He ate it, savoring every bite. Somehow it just tasted like the ones his mom made.. a taste so distinct even after a trillion years he could still recall it so vividly.
The nurse returned just as Bill finished the sandwich. He made his way in and handed Bill the plush- it was a yellow raccoon.
'Thaaanks,' Bill mumbled.
The nurse made his way back to his spot at the desk.
Bill played with the plushies- they were going 'stargazing in the park' (being laid down on a pillow facing up for an indefinite amount of time,) and then 'going home to spend quality time together' (being put back in Bill's lap as he made up some conversations for them,) and some other little scenarios Bill made up that reminded him of stuff he wanted to do with his mom and dad.
The nurse was taking notes, overhearing Bill chatter away happily as the characters, noting down that regression therapy was helping Bill.
Eventually, Bill was tired. As mentioned his physical form was a nuisance for energy. He shuffled in under his blanket, cuddling his plushies. He felt safe.