Work Text:
Vyn was the one who had recommended Dr. Reyes to Artem. She’s a therapist with a speciality in those who work “high stress” jobs. Vyn had come across her a few times in his own line of work, but they’re not close and she doesn’t work at Vyn’s research center. Of all the recommendations the others had given Artem—Luke had suggested an NSB therapist and Artem winced right in front of him. Ria’s suggestions were less intimidating but also still within her social circle. Marius’ suggestions were similar to Ria’s in the sense that everybody he recommended was still close to him—Dr. Reyes was the one Artem felt most comfortable contacting. She’s a professional that Artem’s loved one trusts and she also was disconnected enough from the entire NXX Investigation Team that everything Artem would say to her would truly, only stay between her and him.
Nobody else can know the details of this. Least of all them.
In the span of a week, the appointment was set up.
Artem had scheduled it on a Saturday morning so that he wouldn’t stress about it too much at work but also so that it was out of the way immediately lest something come up during the weekend. He goes alone, politely declining when the others offer to drive him there and wait outside when he has the session, because if any one of them came with him, they’d see through his calm facade, they’d see just how much this whole thing is tearing him apart.
He gets there twenty minutes early and spends that time waiting in the reception, too nervous to even pick up one of the magazines on the coffee table. There’s a National Geographic one with an armadillo on the cover and Artem is curious—he doesn’t know much about the animal—but he doesn’t let himself skim through it. Soon enough, a kind woman walks out from the hall and smiles when she sees Artem, telling him that he can come into her office now.
Her office is nice. It reminds him a bit of Luke’s antique shop—warm and a little bit too filled to the brim with knick knacks. Artem has never been good at shutting off his mind, so he takes in as many details as he can. The picture frame on her desk, the small collection of books primarily about cats nestled in the shelves, the potted ficus in the corner. He assumes that therapists keep their offices in such a way that exudes some kind of comfort, which this office does successfully, but the place also exudes the personality of the therapist herself. Well worn and well lived; a person who really has something inside of them.
“Good morning, Artem.” She greets politely, motioning for him to sit on the sofa in the room. She sits in a similarly comfy chair across from him. “Are you alright with me calling you this?”
“I—Uh.” He fumbles his words, taking a seat to distract himself from the slip up. “Yes. That’s fine.”
“Alright. Before anything, I’d like to introduce myself.” She adjusts her glasses. “I’m Dr. Angela Reyes. You can call me Angie, but if that’s too informal, I don’t mind being called Dr. Reyes either. Whichever makes you feel more comfortable.” Dr. Reyes looks at him and he can tell she really doesn’t have a preference, so he nods and she continues. “I have three cats, I’ve been married to my wife for five years, and I’ve never been able to solve a rubik’s cube even though I desperately want to.”
That last bit makes Artem smile slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Reyes.”
“Pleasure to meet you as well,” Dr. Reyes says. “You’ll get to know more, if you want, as the sessions progress, but we’ll mostly be focusing on you. Would it be alright if you told me some things about yourself?”
“Of course,” Artem nods, reaching into his pocket to get his phone. She doesn’t visibly react to him doing this, but he avoids her gaze anyway. “Uh, I wrote it down, so I don’t miss anything or go off topic. Is it alright if I read it outloud?”
“That’s perfectly fine.” Her words are so gentle.
Something odd starts to spark in Artem’s mind, but he shakes his head, focusing on the task at hand. He opens the 3 page PDF he’d prepared for this session and he starts speaking.
It’s an outline of everything important thus far; diagnoses, physical symptoms, medications, doctors. Artem crosschecked all of the information that needed a timestamp with emails and e-receipts, if those were applicable. It’s a lot. This…thing that’s wrong with him, he’s been treating it for years. Today is his first time seeing a therapist but he’s already been taking medication and getting those meds adjusted for whenever his brain decides it’s time for a new malfunction. He didn’t like the fact that this was necessary, but if there’s something out of order, it needs to be addressed and corrected and managed so that he can continue working at the quality he desires. Artem reads 3 pages out loud and every word just makes that strange thing in his mind spark brighter, hotter, but he ignores it. He detaches himself from whatever that is. He treats this like a case study he’s already picked apart, because in a sense, it is. It’s evidence and testimony and he knows all of this already, all he’s doing is sharing it.
Though sharing this in particular feels scarier than anything he’s ever had to do.
Artem finishes reading. He keeps his gaze down, looking at the last bullet point of his outline.
“Thank you for sharing all of that.” Dr. Reyes’ voice rings out at a volume that surely isn’t any louder than before, but to Artem, it seems deafening. “Your history of diagnoses, symptoms, and medications are all very important for further treatment.”
Artem sighs in relief. That’s good. He did the right thing, this time.
“But can you tell me a little be about yourself?”
“About…” Artem slowly raises his head, confused. “...me?”
“Yes,” she nods. He still doesn’t understand, though.
“What do you mean?” Artem had filled out his personal information file days ago. Dr. Reyes has the PDF with his contact numbers, emails, occupation, blood type, address. So what does she...
“Well, for example, what do you enjoy doing? What are your hobbies?”
Artem blinks. “What?”
Dr. Reyes continues expounding, but each word makes less and less sense. “What are your likes? Your dislikes?”
“I don’t think that’s—” Something strange is sparking in his mind. Any further, and it’ll spread to the rest of him. “—important.”
“It is though.” She says simply. “I’m here to help you and to do that, I need to get to know you a bit more.”
Artem doesn’t reply. For what feels like ten whole minutes, he just sits there. Every tick of the clock in the office feels like a knife in his chest, stabbed inwards, twisted either which way, because look what you’re doing, Artem. You’re wasting her time because you don’t know how to do this correctly, you don’t know what the answer is. He can’t think of anything at all about himself worth talking about.
“Artem—”
“I apologize, I—” As Artem’s words catch in his throat, shame floods down, filling up his stomach. “I don’t know what the right thing is to say about…me.”
“There’s no right or wrong answer,” Dr. Reyes’ gaze this entire time has been gentle, kind, but now there’s something new. There’s a…coaxing, in there now too. Like she’s trying to lead Artem somewhere but he doesn’t know where to go. “You can say anything you want.”
“But—” Anything? But…
What is there to say?
Artem looks inside of himself. There’s simply nothing there.
Once, when Artem was a child, he was given a coloring book. After he had finished coloring, his teacher had jokingly told him that he had no talent in coloring whatsoever. It’s strange, how that memory came to mind, but after a moment, he figures it makes sense. Because that moment is the crux of the issue. He has no talent in filling in the lines with something bright and beautiful. He’s never filled his life or his personality or anything about him with the color that makes a person, well…a person.
All he seems to be is a mess of faulty functions and processes. He’s a body and a mind and he does things but, more often than not, he does things wrong. One day, the people he loves will realize that everything that makes him broken just isn’t worth the effort dealing with, especially because there’s nothing about him as a person that’s worth keeping around, especially because Artem had failed to create himself as a person worth keeping around, especially because there’s nothing here, there’s nothing inside, there’s nothing—
“Artem?” Her voice sounds far away. As if he’s in a glass case and she’s speaking from outside of it. He’s not too worried though, he’s been through this before. “Do you know what’s happening right now?”
It takes Artem a moment to realize she’s asked him a question. “I—I just do this sometimes.”
“It’s called dissociation,” Dr. Reyes says. Huh. Artem has read about that, he thinks. He didn’t know though that it was what he was doing. “It’s common for people with diagnoses like yours. Dissociation can make reality feel strange and distant, but it can also help people feel safe or more focused. Would you like me to help you ground yourself? Or would you like to stay like this?”
Another question, then. “What’s the correct answer?”
“There is none.” Dr. Reyes is looking at him with that same mix of gentle kind coaxing. He vaguely wonders that maybe ‘coaxing’ isn’t enough for somebody like him. If something is so resistant to improvement, more violent measures should be taken for its correction. He’s about to voice this out somehow, when she asks another question. “What do you want to do?”
Is…what he wants to do the right thing to do?
Artem’s chest hurts. Maybe. He doesn’t know, his body feels far away now too. He doesn’t feel like he’s really in it anymore, more like he’s watching from a distance and seeing the control panel of his mind go haywire. His mind takes note of the details. The spark spreads from one area and begins to wreck havoc elsewhere. Something hurts, but he can’t feel it right now. But he doesn’t want to feel it at all. Pain isn’t exactly conducive to being productive or fun to be around so—
“Artem?”
—if everything hurts inside, then he should just stay outside.
Standing at the margin of who he is, the logic of it all circles lazily around him and he’s lost and—
“Artem, are you still with me?”
“I’m sorry.” The words come out mechanically. Muscle memory, almost. He’s had a lot of experience being sorry for his faults. “I—I shouldn’t have come here, this was a mistake.”
There’s a short moment of silence. Just the ticking of the clock and Artem somewhere where nobody will see that he’s an empty room.
“Why did you come here, then?” Dr. Reyes asks.
The question surprises him. Artem blinks as he ever so slightly comes out of his dazed state.
“My team—Or, well, my friends,” Artem says, and he can’t help but smile at just thinking about them. The smile fades when he continues, though. “They suggested I get this kind of help.”
Artem thinks his fists clench as he speaks. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. “I’ve been managing the chemical aspect of all of this for a decade now but they said that this kind of help…”
All of them, at some point and in their own way, had told him that there’s a sadness inside of him that he doesn’t let anybody get close to. Luke, Marius, and Vyn had all offered their help, all of them telling Artem that they want to help. It was Ria though who had told him something different. She was the one who said that if he didn’t want help from the team, he should at least try to find help elsewhere.
“I don’t want to inconvenience them.” His voice feels so soft. Maybe if he keeps talking like this, the rest of him will fade away like a whisper. “I’m here so that I can fix the parts of myself that need fixing. Because they deserve somebody good. Somebody…better than this.”
Dr. Reyes leans back in her chair, a fond smile on her face. “It sounds like you love them a lot.”
“I do. For them, I have to be—” Artem discards what he was going to say, instead saying something he knows without a doubt is true and right. “I love them.”
“And you’re here. And you did that for them.” She has a clever glint in her eyes as she speaks these words. “So coming here is good, in that sense. It’s not a mistake.”
“I—I suppose so,” he nods slowly. It’s not a mistake because this is for them. “This is for them.”
“And that’s enough for now,” Dr. Reyes tells him, her words genuine and honest. “I hope that as we continue having sessions, you can start coming here for you, but we’ll get there bit by bit.” She adjusts her glasses once more, focusing her gaze onto Artem. “I already know that you’re an intelligent and accomplished man, so surely you understand that therapy is, above all, work, yes?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“So are you willing to put in the work for this, Artem?”
For them, he thinks. And with them in mind, he doesn’t hesitate at all with his answer.
“I am.”