Post by "The Fabulous One" Dan Fierce on Jul 5, 2016 19:28:12 GMT -5
Trauma 195 - Bridging Memories - Part 1
Dan stared at the door, as if carefully studying each letter on the portal that lead to his impending appointment. "Phillip M. Schulmann," silently beckoned him to enter, the letters arching upward and then down across the privacy glass. "Psychologist" ran horizontally, taunting a bit of normalcy, if only symbolically.
He steeled himself, breathing deeply as he twisted the knob and stepped through. As doctor's offices go, this one was smartly decorated. Any other time, Dan would occupy his time inwardly critiquing the space as he waited to be seen. Even the first time he had came here with his partner Brian, they had barely said a word, mostly because getting Brian to see ANY doctor was a chore, much less a couples therapist or psychologist. Luckily, they managed to find a man with a wonderful reputation, and who specialized in issues that affected the LGBT community.
Even Brian, who had grudgingly agreed to "a few visits" for the pair to work through a few of their partnership issues, had admitted to feeling a bit better after finishing the initial sessions. However, just before they exited the office after the last session, Dr. Schulmann stopped Dan.
Dan recalled the whole scene as he took his seat in the waiting room.
"Is everything okay, Mr. Fierce?" queried the doctor. Dan admitted to the shrink that it hadn't been, not since the shooting in Orlando. The doctor nodded empathetically. "If you feel you need to talk with me about it, feel free to make an appointment."
"Mmmm," grunted Brian, his lips pursed in distrust as he witnessed the beginning of the exchange. "Here we go."
"Beg your pardon?" jolted the doctor without getting defensive. He'd been down this track with many patients, especially couples. He knew that Brian would be skeptical of his motivations for offering up additional services.
"That's how they get ya," scathed Brian before Dan could even answer for himself. "You come in for couples counseling, the next thing you know, you're racking up individual bills as well. We weren't broken when we came in, but now suddenly we're both basket cases who need meds and a padded room."
"That's a bit of an exaggeration," chided the doctor. "Neither Mr. Fierce nor you are required to see me individually or even as a couple unless you choose."
"Excuse us for a minute, please." Dan pulled Brian aside, mostly out of earshot of the doctor, he hoped. "Baby, I know you hate this."
"That man just wants to bleed our wallets dry!" Brian grumbled through gritted teeth, his ears and neck flushing red as they did when he was growing angry.
"I know," Dan comforted. "You've been a trooper through all of this, and I think we're making some headway."
Brian studied Dan's face, bringing a mixed look of disappointment and shock to his own. He knew his partner well enough to know exactly what was coming next. "You're actually thinking about it, aren't you?"
Dan bowed his head before nodding slightly. "I think I could use it, to be honest. My rage has been building. I'm worried that I may snap and hurt somebody. Or hurt you." Brian clinched his fists, shaking them at the ceiling with upturned eyes and a grimace of disdain. He mutter incomprehensibly for a few brief seconds, pacing back and forth in quick steps. Dan halted his protests, cupping his partner's face with both hands and peering into his soul. "It might do you some good too. Besides, you don't want me to get all psycho like those two monsters Alexa Black and Murdoc, do you?"
Brian's face twitched from the stress of his emotions. Finally, his hands went back to his sides, though the muscles in his arms still tensed from choking back his fury. "Fine." He pointed a finger at Dan, almost in accusation. "You can do individual therapy if you want, but I'm not doing it. For fuck's sake! We're paying him $100 per hour just to talk to him! For him to teach us to talk to each other! What the hell's next? Sexual therapy?"
"Now that you mention it..." Dan kidded, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
Brian wasn't having it. "I liked you better when you were obsessed with shoe shopping." Brian stormed out of the office, already pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket and giving precisely zero fucks about the cross looks he was getting for lighting it before completely exiting the building.
Dan allowed the door to shut itself, and then returned his attention to the waiting psychologist. "I'm so sorry."
"That's quite all right," dismissed the doctor politely. "That sort of thing happens quite a bit, actually." He paused briefly. "I'll tell you what. I'll give you the first two visits for free. No obligation. As long as you continue your couples therapy for now. If you decide you wish to stop, then so be it. My main concern is your health as a couple. That is what you primarily hired me for. I don't want to give you false hope, but in my experiences, sometimes the health of the individual will lead to the health of the couple as well."
"Okay," agreed Dan. "Should I bring Brian with me?"
"No," insisted the doctor. "I'm afraid I would be able to allow him into the room while we're in session. Doctor-patient privilege. HIPAA rules, as well. Once upon a time we could. Now we can't even have parents in the rooms with their children unless under court order or special circumstances."
"It's probably for the best then," concluded Dan. "He hates waiting. He'd just get pissy."
Dan had made the initial appointment less than a week ago. Now he sat in the office once again, butterflies flitting about in his stomach, and knees bouncing nervously, more akin to a child that got sent to the principal's office rather than a grown man working through therapy.
A buzz at the receptionist's desk snapped Dan out of his daze. The lady behind the desk very much resembled an odd combination of a pin-up girl whose heyday had long passed and a librarian waiting with a hair trigger to shush anyone who dared make a noise. She picked up the phone, having an extremely brief conversation before returning it to its cradle. "Mr. Fierce?" Dan looked up, a nervous grin across his lips. "The doctor will see you now."
"I sure as fuck wish booking would make up their minds," blurted Dan to the camera. "First they put me against Murdoc in a singles match. Then they put us together as a tag tem on the following show. Now they have the little chocolate cutie Dontevius Ellis and I LITERALLY fighting for our lives against both him and that psychotic bitch Alexa Black.
"I'm not even going to pretend to think that this will be a clean match. I tried hoping for that against Murdoc before, but he chose to use me to drive a point home and try to collapse my windpipe against the top rope. Alexa black hasn't fought a clean match in her career, so asking for honor from either of these Neanderthals is a hopeless cause. Add in the Darkness' reputation for playing the numbers game, we're walking into a massacre. It's a loaded deck, and we're playing with rent money.
"Here's the thing, kiddies. A trap isn't a trap if you see it coming. Donnie-poo and I may or may not walk out with a win, but I can guarantee we WILL walk out. Mama's gonna have a plan in place. You'd better believe that shit. We may not be on the Darkness' so-called 'list,' but I know that won't stop them from trying to drive either or both of us onto the disabled list just for shits and giggles.
"Murdoc? Well, I'd call him a monster, but frankly, he's a child with the physical means to throw a devastating tantrum, nothing more, and nothing less. Don't believe me? Think about it. Why is he so adamant about Showtime 'making the right decision?' What do you think he wants?
"Let me tell you what he wants. I know his type all too well. He wants to cut in line for a shot at the World Title, and he's going to use brute force to get it, by gawd. Because, you know.... Why earn it like I did? He won the Last Chance Battle Royal, only to be taken out by the man I BEAT to get it. It must really chafe his little undies to know that I got what he thinks he deserves.
"Well, step back, Mary Ann. This sister isn't letting another soul get what I have coming to me. Little Justin Kaard only got through with a technicality. He had a clause that granted him that right. But... If he and Grimm think this bitch is gonna sit back and watch as they play 'follow the bouncing title reigns' they're wrong. I will step in and I will face whoever wins at Return to Glory at the following pay-per-view.
"So Murdoc, sweetie... You may as well get glad in the same pants you got mad in, because regardless of what our illustrious PCW President has to say about it the truth is plain to see. You place in line is behind me. If I get my hands on the gold after that, then I will be happy to work this shit out with you. Until then, you and Little Miss Batshit can go fuck yourselves.
"Toodles."
