Work Text:
Private notes from the desk of Dr. Scott-lynn L. Heine, Psy.D., LPC
1/10/XXXX
Vladimir Caesar—session one
The client entered the office in good spirits. I joked that he made me feel under-dressed—he was wearing a tailcoat, complete with a bow tie, black slacks and perfectly shined oxfords. He laughed and said he was attending a cocktail party directly following our session. I decided not to comment that his outfit looked too formal even for that, or to question what kind of cocktail party takes place at ten in the morning.
After introducing ourselves, we spent the first thirty minutes going over his goals and boundaries. He was very articulate and easily expressed what he hopes to achieve in therapy, which I have recorded on his sheet.
I expected the introductory talk to last the entire hour, but a mention of my hometown sparked a conversation about childhood, and we ended up having a very insightful discussion about the client’s time growing up on Proxima Centauri b. He spoke about an old neighbor who he was very close to and who died tragically in a hover-bike accident when he was fifteen, at one point taking out an intricately embroidered handkerchief to dab his eyes.
All in all, it was about as successful of a first session as I could've hoped for. At least, I believed it to be until the client shook my hand and left the room, at which point I overheard the following conversation between him and a friend who’d arrived to pick him up:
FRIEND: Sorry for strong-arming you into this, but I really think it could help. So… did everything go okay?
CLIENT: Why, yes, dear. Dr. Heine was lovely, and clearly skilled at their job. They had a very productive chat with Mr. Vladimir Caesar about his neighbor’s untimely death and his childhood on Proxima—
FRIEND: Oh, come on, babe.
The last line was accompanied by an audible facepalm. I wonder if I can expect to see Vladimir Caesar again next week.
1/17/XXXX
Benvolio Pharaoh—session one
Today’s nine o’clock time slot was meant to be filled by Caesar, but he dropped out two days ago, so there was room to replace him with a new client—Benvolio Pharaoh.
I didn’t know what to expect from Pharaoh. He had a very thick Neo-French accent when we spoke over comms, and when he arrived he was wearing a trilby hat and what appeared to be a cheap fake mustache. He looked… remarkably similar to Vladimir Caesar, but greeted me as though we had never met before and made no indication that there was anything odd about the present situation.
Once we were through introductions I decided to start a conversation about family, since he’d thrown out the topic as one we could potentially discuss during our time together. He was amenable and launched into a long speech about his history with his mother and father—the year they’d forgotten his birthday, then the time they’d driven to the spaceport to see him off to university, then how he’d always suspected his mother liked his sister more than him. The following exchange is transcribed from the audio recording of our session:
CLIENT: …My papa and I had a good relationship, if distant. He was a doctor, you see, so he was very busy most days.
ME: Sorry, I thought you said your father was an astrologist?
CLIENT: Er, my mistake. I should have clarified. He was a doctor when I was a child, but later changed professions when he could no longer handle the pressure of the field. He once took me to the hospital to do my shots himself, you know. I was a dreadful wreck the whole drive there, but he so thoroughly distracted me with ridiculous faces that I didn’t even notice the needle going in.
ME: It sounds like you really love your father.
CLIENT: What? Oh… yes, of course. Brilliant man.
It may have been my imagination, but I swore I saw a shift in the client’s face then—and heard a shift in his accent. It was gone in an instant, though, and he carried on in his Neo-French lilt. I tried to circle back to the topic of his father, feeling I’d gotten close to something important, but he brushed off my attempts. I try not to force my clients to talk about anything before they’re ready, so I let the matter lie.
He spotted the wedding photo on my desk and struck up a conversation about my wife, which transformed into a discussion of romantic relationships in general.
CLIENT: I have a love of my own, you know. A goddess in human form, if I may say so myself. I don’t know what spirits I pleased to count myself so lucky, but I thank them everyday.
I spent the last quarter of the session listening to the client talk animatedly about his significant other, who he continually referred to as his “goddess”. His stories about his family had been detailed and flowery, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he sounded much more genuine during those last fifteen minutes than he had throughout the previous forty-five. I look forward to our next session.
Note—I had to ask my assistant Jennie for a pen to write this all down with, as this is the second time in as many weeks that mine has gone missing. I wonder where they’re disappearing to?
1/24/XXXX
Dux Zupan—“session one”
I couldn’t be a hundred percent certain of it last week, but I am today: Dux Zupan is just Benvolio Pharaoh with sunglasses on, and Benvolio Pharaoh was just Vladimir Caesar with a mustache and a bad accent. When I broached this indisputable fact, however—suggesting that perhaps the client might at the very least be a relation of the two men who’d held the 9 AM Monday time slot before him—I was met with vehement denial.
I haven’t figured out why this is happening yet, but the charade doesn’t affect my paycheck. I can’t deny that someone who’s willing to show up to my office dressed as three different people might be in need of my services, either.
Thankfully, despite claiming it was his first time here, the client allowed me to skip through introductions and goal-setting much more quickly today. He was tapping his foot all the while, repeatedly glancing at the clock like he couldn't wait for the hour to be over. When he let out a loud yawn I initially assumed it was just because he was bored, but the dark circles under his eyes suggested otherwise.
ME: How have you been sleeping lately?
CLIENT: Oh, I’ve always been a light sleeper. Besides, I work best at night.
ME: I’m sure you’ve heard it a million times before, but maintaining a healthy sleep schedule really can do wonders in other areas of your life.
CLIENT: Would that I could, but I’m afraid my body insists on staying alert. I find it easier to work than to simply lie awake in bed suffering the torments of the mind, you see.
The latter sentence was spoken lightly, its melodramatic nature clearly intended to be facetious, but after ten years in this profession I’ve become very good at spotting truth in jest. I wrote out a list for him of several methods that have proven successful for patients with insomnia in the past.
ME: If it’s your thoughts keeping you up, it’s also possible that anxiety is a factor here. Is that something you’ve ever considered? Do you often feel very anxious at night?
CLIENT: Don’t we all, doctor?
ME: No.
CLIENT: Ah.
Directly after this exchange, the client noticed my degree hanging on the back wall and commented on my university—apparently he’d visited it during a trip to Saturn several years ago. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was pulled in by his questions and didn’t realize until after the hour was up that he'd intentionally shifted the focus off himself so he wouldn’t have to talk anymore. I’ll be more cognizant of that distraction technique next time.
After the client left the building, Jennie and I placed bets on what he’ll come in wearing next week. My money is that he’ll be dressed as a South Venusian museum curator.
Also, I’m missing a pen again. Huh.
2/7/XXXX
Aubrey Basileus—“session one”
Today the client was dressed as what I can only describe as a very fancy pirate. This was incredibly exciting to Jennie, who'd bet ten creds that he’d be some sort of seafarer. I was more concerned with his earrings, which looked remarkably similar to a pair of ruby teardrops I saw pictured on a PSA stream given by the local jeweler they were stolen from. When I complimented them, he claimed they were a gift from a relative.
It’s taken a few sessions, but I think I’m finally starting to figure out how to work with this man. I don’t refute him when he spins a story about whatever persona he’s wearing today, instead staying silent and doing my best to listen for any truth behind his words. Once I zero in on a potential truth, I lead him towards it and ignore all of his efforts to distract me.
CLIENT: The naval officers instilled a very strong work ethic in me. They never allowed me to do anything but my best, and frankly I thank them for it. It’s made me into the man that I am today.
ME: You’ve mentioned work before. Do you consider yourself a hard worker, then?
CLIENT: Certainly. In fact, I’ll let you in on a secret, my dear doctor—no matter how effortless my capabilities may appear, most of them are the result of a great deal of hard work. Why, I refused to play my instrument in front of anyone but my Goddess until I was certain I could perform like a professional. To the ignorant eye I might appear to simply have a natural gift, but heavens, the amount of hours I put into practicing…
ME: Why couldn’t anyone else hear you play before then?
CLIENT: It would have been rather embarrassing, wouldn’t it? I was far from perfect when I began learning the craft, believe me. It's always better to wait for the final result before making a debut.
ME: Do your friends expect you to be perfect?
CLIENT: That’s neither here nor there, really. I expect myself to be.
ME: Why?
CLIENT: Well, I prefer those around me to respect me and my skill. Don’t you, Dr. Heine?
ME: We’re not talking about me. Do you think you have to be perfect in order for your friends to respect you? Is that something you’ve witnessed them expecting from anyone else?
CLIENT: …No. No, I suppose not.
He clammed up after that, and I didn't press further. I can tell he doesn’t like to feel cornered, and while he can be difficult to work with, I’d rather not scare him off. He may be going about therapy in an… unusual manner, but I want to believe I can still do some genuine good here.
I’ve also come to understand that the only clear through-line between his personas is his significant other—the client calls him by different names depending on the week, and their stated relationship fluctuates between courting, dating, and married, but it’s clearly all the same lady. The same lady who the client affectionately refers to as his “goddess”. I find it a little relieving to know that he has at least one person in his life who he seems to feel completely comfortable with.
All that aside, his paperwork is a nightmare. The receptionists are getting increasingly irritated about having to fill out new forms for him every time he comes in. I now have an entire shelf in my filing cabinet dedicated to him alone.
At first I tried to list all of his chosen aliases on the front of the shelf, but it wasn't long before there were too many to fit. I took them off and replaced them with a single label: “Wife guy.” I think it gets the point across just as well.
2/28/XXXX
Jeremiah Ou—“session one”
It’s currently the summer season in our hemisphere, but the client entered my office wearing a fur coat, silk gloves, and a ushanka anyway. For someone so keen to hide his true identity, he doesn’t make much effort to blend in.
Last week I gave him an assignment to make a list of positive affirmations during our time apart, but when I asked for it today he just gave me a confused look and “reminded” me that it was only his first day here. For the sake of the receptionists I decided not to “remind” him that if it really was his first time, then he needed to go right back out of the room and hand over new intake, consent and payment forms. The session went relatively well, nonetheless.
CLIENT: As a child I was deathly afraid of centipedes. Too many legs, you see. It unsettled me. My brothers would catch the nasty things and trap them in jars. They used to play pranks on me, leaving said jars on my desk or beneath the blankets of my bed where I would least expect them.
ME: But you aren’t scared of them anymore?
CLIENT: I think one often finds with age that there are much worse things in this life to fear than insects.
ME: What scares you now?
CLIENT: I suppose now I’m more frightened of being the centipede. The one caught by hands bigger than my own and locked up somewhere that I can’t escape. I don’t take kindly to the idea of being… imprisoned.
Since the jewelry store was robbed, there’s been a string of minor thefts from high-brow shops in the city. The perpetrator hasn’t been caught on camera once, apparently. I couldn’t help but wonder what they might look like if they were.
I couldn’t help but wonder, during today's session, whether this man of many names and many hats secretly wants me to figure him out—and what I might discover if I do.
That thought was pushed away quickly, though. No one likes the idea of being imprisoned, and being afraid of it doesn’t make you a criminal. Instead I continued my weeks-long mission of trying to discuss family—and more specifically fathers—but I only received more tall tales. Today the client had two mothers, a grandfather, and half a dozen brothers, and I’m certain that next week it'll be a whole other story.
It’s slow going, but… it’s going. He hasn’t stopped showing up, so he must be getting something out of this. That, or his “goddess” has done a very good job of convincing him to attend.
Speaking of the client’s goddess—I saw him for the first time today while I was walking out to get tea after our session. I’d suspected the lady who’d picked the client up on his first day was his partner, and it seems I was right. At least, judging by the way the client greeted him today.
CLIENT: Oh, there you are! The love of my life, my gem upon the universe, my compass when I’m lost at sea—
“GODDESS”: Yeah, yeah. Can we leave already? It’s too goddamn early.
CLIENT: It’s ten o’clock, dear.
“GODDESS”: Like I said, too damn early. …Uh, I’m sorry about him, by the way.
The last sentence was directed at the receptionists, who nodded gratefully. I’ll admit that from the way the client had described him, as if there was no being in the galaxy who could match his lover’s beauty or grace, I hadn’t foreseen said lover being a one-eyed, broken-nosed lady dressed in pajama pants and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He seemed kind, however, and sent me a smile as I passed him.
“GODDESS”: You’re Dr. Heine, right?
ME: That’s me.
“GODDESS”: Then... thanks. I know you’re doing your best.
I promised him that I was. I make an effort not to pick favorites, but I can’t deny that this client is one of the most interesting that I’ve ever had. Regardless of any eccentricities of his or… suspicions of mine, I intend to do right by him.
3/21/XXXX
Fredric Sultan—“session one”
Like most workers, the reception staff at our office aren’t fond of Monday mornings. They’ve become a little less averse to them now that the client’s “goddess” has begun bringing in coffee and donuts for them each week, though. Apparently it’s his way of making up for them having to redo his partner’s papers so many times.
JENNIE: You really don’t have to do this, sir.
“GODDESS”: Nah. It’s all right. You guys deserve it. My best friend is a secretary, and she deserves all the coffee and donuts in the world. I bet you guys do too.
Suffice to say, half the receptionists have fallen head over heels for him.
—So it’s a shame that he’s so aggressively taken. I’m not a couples counselor, but if the way the client talks about their relationship is accurate, I doubt they’ll be breaking up any time soon. It’s obvious that they’ve been through a lot together, even if the specific details of that ‘a lot’ change week to week.
ME: I think your partner has found himself a fan club in our offices.
CLIENT: It doesn’t surprise me. He’s quite a likable lady, when he isn’t pretending not to be. He has the strongest heart of anyone I’ve met. Which is a touch ironic, really…
ME: Why is it ironic?
CLIENT: Well, because he’s with me. There’s no accounting for taste, of course.
ME: You don’t think you deserve him?
CLIENT: More than think, my dear doctor. I know that I don’t. But his choices are his own, and I do my best not to question them.
I hadn’t expected someone who dresses so well and carries himself with as much confidence as the client to also be so insecure, but that’s often the way—it’s the people who fight the hardest to present themselves perfectly who are hiding the most imperfections. At least, what they perceive to be imperfections. The client abruptly changed the subject as soon as I asked him what exactly his “goddess” had that he didn’t, and I left the matter to be addressed in the future. Rome wasn't built in a day.
In order to end the session on a lighter note, I threw him a softball: What are your hobbies? I already know a few of them, though it’s always difficult to tell which are legitimate and which were invented for his current persona. I’m almost certain he actually does play an instrument, and I’ve seen him doodling during our hours together often enough to guess that it’s something he likes to do in his day to day life.
Today he informed me of another hobby that I’m 99% sure is genuine.
CLIENT: I’ve always been a passionate fan of sculpture and classical paintings, you see. More recently I’ve gotten into the habit of… acquiring said artworks and returning them to their rightful owners, where possible.
I decided not to mention the news report I’d seen last night, about a major theft at the local art museum. It was just nice to see him back in good spirits.
4/11/XXXX
Desmond Raja—“session one”
I could tell something was different the moment the client walked into the room this morning. For once he wasn’t overdressed, instead wearing a simple beige sweater and leggings, and he didn’t so much as fake a smile when he greeted me.
CLIENT: You keep asking me about my family.
ME: You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to.
CLIENT: I don’t want to. But perhaps I have to. I feel that I should while I still have a choice, before it comes spilling out of me against my will at an inopportune moment. I can tell that the memories are getting closer and closer to the surface as of late.
ME: Go on.
CLIENT: I had a dream last night. About… him. A man I once knew. He took me in as a child, and he… raised me. I owe him my life. I loved him. I still do.
[Long pause]
CLIENT: But our relationship was built on a lie. When I was seventeen he finally took the mask off, transformed into something other than the man I loved. And so I did what I thought I had to do. I… severed the chain that connected us.
ME: That was brave of you.
CLIENT: No. It wasn’t brave. It was cruel. He saved me. He was the only family I ever had, and I repaid him by throwing his kindness back in his face. The last thing he did was call me his boy. He touched my face and called me his boy.
[Long pause]
ME: He was a father to you.
CLIENT: I never called him that, but… yes. In every way but blood.
ME: Do you regret severing your connection?
CLIENT: I’m ashamed of it. I awake some nights ill with guilt. But no, I don’t regret it.
ME: If you believe you did what you had to do, I don’t think there’s any reason to be ashamed.
CLIENT: You don’t understand.
ME: Help me understand, then.
CLIENT: I can’t. I’m… I’m sorry. I’ve, ha, never spoken about this out loud before.
ME: Never? Not even to your partner?
CLIENT: He knows most of it, but not because I told him. I can’t talk to him about it. He has his own... parental trauma, you see. I wouldn’t dare burden him with mine as well, or risk triggering an unpleasant memory.
ME: I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. But that’s what I’m here for, anyway. To be the person you can tell these things to.
CLIENT: I’ve already said too much. I’m a fool for trusting you with this.
ME: I’ve signed an oath of confidentiality. I won’t tell anyone a thing so long as I don’t believe you intend to harm yourself or others.
[Long pause]
CLIENT: I miss him. I don’t regret it, but I miss him.
At this point, the client stopped speaking and dissolved into tears. He apologized for them many times over, but I assured him he had nothing to be sorry for and merely passed over the tissue box from behind my desk. The session ended twenty minutes early, I believe it was productive overall.
4/18/XXXX
??—“session one”
The client did not show up to the session, nor did he call in advance to cancel or reschedule.
4/22/XXXX
Dahlia Rose—session one
A familiar face came into the office alone today looking for an appointment. Normally I don’t do walk-ins, but I happened to have a space free because of a cancellation, and I got the feeling this was a meeting that I wanted to have. “Goddess”... or rather, the client, was better dressed and much more awake than the last time I’d seen him—probably because he'd arrived in the afternoon. I did not miss the receptionists making eyes at him as he walked into my office.
ME: I know we’ve already met in passing, but hello, Dahlia. I’m Dr. Heine.
CLIENT: [shaking my hand] Hey.
ME: We’ll start with talking about your goals and aspirations for our time together—
CLIENT: I’m here to talk about my boyfriend.
ME: Oh.
CLIENT: ‘Cause I love him, but he’s a real weirdo sometimes and I just needed to tell somebody about it, you know?
ME: Of course.
CLIENT: He keeps going to the same therapist over and over, dressed as different people and using different names. I’m glad he’s going, but that’s gotta be really inconvenient for the therapist, right?
ME: …I imagine so.
CLIENT: I’ve apologized to the staff who file his paperwork, but I feel like I should make it up to the therapist themself, too. He didn’t show up for his appointment this week, and when I asked him, he admitted that he didn’t even call ahead to cancel. And I just… I don’t want them to give up on him, you know?
ME: Well, if that therapist were here… I think they might say that they have no intention of giving up on any of their clients.
CLIENT: And I’d say that I really hope they don’t. Uh, if they were here.
At that point, he stood up and pulled a bundle of what appeared to be ten different pens out of his coat and dropped them on my desk. On closer inspection, every one of them was printed with the address of our office.
CLIENT: Sorry. He doesn’t do it on purpose. Er, not always, at least.
I picked up the pens, returning them to my drawer. The client excused himself and made to leave, but I couldn’t resist breaking the ‘theoretical scenario’ we’d created together to ask one question.
ME: Is he all right?
CLIENT: Oh. Yeah, he’s fine. He was a little shaken up last Monday, but he seems better now. Our family is visiting tonight, too, so that’ll be a good distraction. I can’t make any promises, but I’m pretty sure he’ll be back next week.
ME: I’m glad to hear that.
4/25/XXXX
Markus Baronet—“session one”
The client and I had a fairly relaxed session today. After last time, it seemed like it would be a good idea to keep things light. I let him ramble on about whatever fairy stories he felt like coming up with while I mimed taking notes on his sheet. I’ve gotten pretty good at ascertaining when he’s telling the truth, so I can focus on those moments now and not bother taking the flowery lies into account. There was still one thing I needed to confront him over, though, and I did so towards the end of the hour.
ME: If maintaining these separate personas is helpful to you, I won’t force you to stop using them. But for the sake of organization, we really need to file your papers with a single name, address, and bank account.
CLIENT: You wish to pin me down.
ME: I wish to stop giving my assistant a headache.
CLIENT: Ah. Yes. My apologies.
ME: It doesn’t have to be a real name or address, just… something, all right? If you can.
CLIENT: I will see what I can do.
6/6/XXXX
Peter Ransom—session six
The client informed me that he’s been sleeping a little better, and has tried some techniques I presented for lessening anxiety to moderate success. I can’t prescribe medication myself, but I referred him to a psychiatrist I trust in case he ever wants to pursue obtaining it. Regardless, he certainly looked more alert today as we chatted about his recent endeavors.
CLIENT: You know, a fellow tried to mug me with a blaster the other day.
ME: Oh, dear. Are you all right!?
CLIENT: The operative word is tried. He didn’t actually succeed in getting anything off me. The blaster wasn’t even loaded, so it was a simple matter of calling his bluff.
ME: Still, that must have been a frightening encounter.
CLIENT: Not particularly. I don’t scare easily. Very little fazes me anymore, if I’m honest.
ME: Including being physically attacked?
CLIENT: Mm.
ME: Why is that?
CLIENT: I grew up in a… difficult area. As a child there were times when I was the person on the other side of the mugging, even. I did what I needed to do to survive, as did the man who attempted to rob me. I can handle myself. I’m used to it.
ME: You shouldn’t have to be.
CLIENT: I… No. Perhaps not. But it keeps one safe, being able to expect these things. I’m grateful for the ability.
ME: And if you hadn’t been able to handle it, what would have happened?
CLIENT: ...I would have lost my wallet.
ME: Would that have been the end of the world?
CLIENT: Well, no.
ME: There may have been a time when being strong and unfazed all hours of the day was necessary for your survival, but I think I’m right in assuming that time is over now.
CLIENT: I suppose so. Sometimes it’s still helpful, but most of the time now, I’m…
ME: Yes?
CLIENT: ...Safe. Ha, what a strange thought.
ME: Everyone deserves to live safely. You shouldn’t have to be strong just to survive in this universe, should you?
CLIENT: That man… He probably would have said differently.
ME: That man isn’t here now.
CLIENT: No. He’s not.
Before the session ended, I mentioned that a local pharmaceutical corporation had recently gone under. It was just a passing comment—I’ve always hated the place for how it drives up the cost of medications that many of my clients rely on. As if the predatory insurance companies they have to deal with aren’t bad enough. The client got an odd smile on his face as I talked about it, however.
CLIENT: Why, I wonder how that could have happened? When it was making such large profits…
ME: Uh, I have no idea.
CLIENT: Hm. Oh well.
6/27/XXXX
Peter Ransom—session nine
The following is a transcript of a call I received on my comms, about ten minutes after the client was supposed to arrive for his session.
CLIENT: I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it today, Dr. Heine. I apologize that I didn’t tell you sooner. I thought I’d be able to, but unfortunately a job ran long—
[At this point, his words were cut off by incoherent shouting and what sounded worryingly like blaster fire in the background]
ME: Are you all right?!
CLIENT: Yes, yes, quite. I’ll be back next week, I promise you.
ME: You can always miss sessions if you need to. There won’t be any judgment on my end.
CLIENT: I know, doctor, but I’d rather not miss again if I can help it. I was a touch skeptical of this entire concept to begin with, I must admit—
UNIDENTIFIED VOICE: Mistah Ransom, the package is secure!
CLIENT: Thank you, Rita! Head to the other roof, and I’ll be with you in a moment! Anyway, as I was saying, it’s been surprisingly beneficial to have this outlet. I know my goddess appreciates it, too. I think it reassures him to know there’s another person I now feel comfortable sharing with, and I feel better knowing that I don't always have to choose between burdening him with my troubles or keeping them inside. It's been an improvement for both of us, really—
[sound of nearby sirens]
VOICE: Mistah Ransom, hurry! They’re coming!
SECOND VOICE: Get off your damn comms and get over here, Ransom!
CLIENT: Beg pardon, Dr. Heine. It seems my time is up. I’ll see you next week!
ME: Uh… see you then.
[Call ends]
7/11/XXXX
Peter Ransom—session eleven
For the first time since I became his therapist, the client actually did the homework I assigned for him. It was based on a technique that his partner uses, in fact—an audio diary in which he records what he’s thinking and feeling throughout the week. Since one of the client's major roadblocks is his ability to speak about his emotions out loud, we thought it might be helpful. I listened to a few clips he played for me, and while he obviously isn’t fully comfortable with the idea yet, the effort put in was clear. The first step towards recovery is wanting to recover, and I can tell now that the client really does want it.
CLIENT: I saw the sign about your office’s anniversary on the front door. Thirty years is a long time to be in business. Congratulations.
ME: I wasn’t here for all of them, but… thank you. We’re doing our best.
CLIENT: Here’s to another thirty years.
ME: At this point I’m just hoping we can last to the end of this one.
CLIENT: Oh? Why’s that?
ME: (sigh) It’s the local insurance place. Half of our clients get their coverage there, but for some reason the company has been refusing their claims this year—acting like counseling isn’t covered, when it obviously should be. It can’t be legal, but I have no idea how to stop it or help my clients.
CLIENT: How perfectly evil.
ME: Yeah. It's a shame that no one’s done anything about it.
For the record, I definitely wasn’t implying anything. Nor do I think the client’s smile and wink in my direction before leaving my office was meant to imply anything, either.
7/25/XXXX
Peter Ransom—session twelve
Yesterday, Vexcorp Insurance announced that it’d be making several major company policy changes following “new information” from “internal management”. I can’t comment on whether any untoward methods were used to reach those results, but I do know that all of my clients signed with Vexcorp are now fully covered.
Of course, this is unrelated to my session with this particular client, so I’ll move on swiftly. Today we spent most of the hour discussing the concept of “trust.”
CLIENT: After all this talk, I have to ask… Do you trust me, my dear doctor?
ME: I have a better question. Do you trust me?
[Long pause]
CLIENT: I… I think I may.
ME: How does that make you feel?
CLIENT: Terrified.
ME: That’s understandable.
CLIENT: And…
ME: And?
CLIENT: And relieved, I think. It’s been so long since I’ve trusted someone new. I thought that was safer, but distrust is so hideously tiring. I want to believe you actually want to help me.
ME: I do want to help you.
CLIENT: You don't even know me. I could be an awful person.
ME: Well, you'd have a very hard time convincing me that you are.
CLIENT: ...Perhaps. Or perhaps not.
9/19/XXXX
Peter Ransom—session twenty
Today the client entered my office, instructed me to turn off my comms and audio recorder, and then began to pace the room. He picked up every object on my desk and bookshelf, squinting at each one suspiciously, and then stood on a chair to unscrew the lightbulb from the ceiling unit. When I asked him what was happening, he informed me that he was checking the room for bugs. I dithered for a bit before deciding it was best to let him do it. If he broke the lights, so be it.
After ten minutes he sat back down and proceeded to tell me about the planet where he grew up, as well as the full story of what happened on [REDACTED] with [REDACTED]. Apparently he'd recorded it in his audio diary last week in coded language, but had then decided that he needed to tell the full thing to someone else in person. It all came out in a jumbled rush, like he knew he needed to say it in one go. He admitted it was the first time he'd ever said [REDACTED]’s name out loud since he died.
I had to spend the last twenty minutes of our time together talking him down from a panic attack, reassuring him that he’d done the right thing by telling me and that I didn't hate him, but overall it was an incredibly productive session. Right before the client left, he leaned over and said a name in my ear. A name that even I, having lived in Sol all my life without once venturing to the former Outer Rim, have heard before.
Now… I think I could use a cup of tea. And possibly something much stronger.
11/7/XXXX
[REDACTED]—session twenty-seven
Since I learned the client's true identity, our sessions have because increasingly open and raw. I can tell it's painful for him sometimes, but I finally feel like I'm getting to the heart of his feelings and enabling real improvement. Even so, one thing had been bothering me for weeks now. I may have been told the full story about his father, but I’d never once heard him speak of any other real family members—despite his “goddess” openly referring to the fact that “their” family was coming to visit several months ago, and despite all my earlier attempts to coax him into talking about that exact topic. I knew he had more family than he was letting on, so why hadn't he mentioned them?
I decided to address this today, and the client cautiously informed me of the fact that he and his partner were once members of a now-disbanded but still tight knit group of travelers.
ME: I’m happy you’re all still in touch despite now living in different places. This group of yours seems to care about each other a great deal.
CLIENT: Why, of course they do. They’re a family.
ME: You said “they”. Not “we”.
CLIENT: …Did I? Slip of the tongue.
I had the distinct feeling that it was a lot more than just that. It took almost the entire hour to get it out of him, but in the last ten minutes I finally got a truthful answer.
CLIENT: It seems presumptuous, that’s all.
ME: To consider yourself a part of the family?
CLIENT: My relationship with the others has never been perfect, believe me. I don’t know if I even have the right to make that claim.
ME: Have you ever asked them whether they consider you a part of it?
CLIENT: Well, no. That also seems…
ME: Presumptuous?
CLIENT: Indeed. And... perhaps I'm frightened of their answer.
ME: Then I believe we both know what your homework is for the next few weeks. You’ve been so open with me over the past year. I think it’s about time you were a little more open with them, as well.
CLIENT: If you insist, doctor. And only because you insist.
12/5/XXXX
[REDACTED]—session thirty-two
The client informed me at the start of our session today that he and his partner will be moving to another moon before the end of the month. According to him, they’d never planned to stay for more than a year, and some "past actions" are getting dangerously close to catching up with them.
CLIENT: My goddess wanted me to pass on his apologies to the staff that he won’t be able to bring them coffee and donuts anymore.
ME: I’m sure they’ll recover. They really do like him, though. They’re gonna miss having him around.
CLIENT: As they should. And I… wish to pass on my sincerest thanks. I know it was only a year, but our time together has meant a great deal. There were many areas of my life that I did not realize needed improvement, or where I assumed improvement was impossible… and yet you helped me. Despite my reticence, despite my dishonesty, you’ve made a genuine effort to help me—and even after learning the truth, you still chose to continue. I know that is your job, but… I feel reasonable in saying that not every counselor would have been as accommodating as you.
ME: You’re very welcome. I’m just happy I’ve been able to help. That’s always my only goal.
CLIENT: A year ago, my goddess had to practically drag me here, but now… I will miss you, my dear doctor. Your advice has been invaluable, both to myself and my relationships with those I love, and I do not know if I will ever find another who I feel able to talk so candidly with. Even if we don’t speak again, know that I appreciate your every word and suggestion from the past twelve months.
ME: Well, you know—
CLIENT: (tearfully) Goodbye, Dr. Heine. I will never forget what you’ve done for me.
It was at this point that I informed the client that I also do online appointments.
3/29/XXXX
[REDACTED]—session forty-seven (online)
I’d grown accustom to the client calling in from the quiet back room of his and his partner’s new apartment, so I was surprised to find things a little more chaotic today. It was obvious from the start of the session that the couple had company over.
ME: I’m glad to hear that the life drawing lessons are going well. I know you feel like your work isn’t up to the standard of the other students yet, but you should be proud of what you’ve created.
CLIENT: Yes, yes, not everything I make has to be perfect. I know.
ME: It’s true. It’s not about creating a masterpiece. It’s about giving yourself an outlet that you don’t have to be good at. Now, continuing from last week—
UNIDENTIFIED VOICE: Oh! Oh! We gotta add loads more sugar!
SECOND VOICE: Hell no, hacker. Out of my way.
THIRD VOICE: Excuse me, darlings, I need to get to the sink—
[Loud crashing sound]
“GODDESS”: Could you all shut up?! Ransom’s on a call in the other room!
FIRST VOICE: I’m sorry, Mistah Steel!
ME: Things sound pretty lively over there.
CLIENT: (chuckling) I apologize for the inconvenience. Please continue, doctor.
Things were a little quieter after that, and the client was able to finish giving me updates. With the help of the psychiatrist I recommended, he’s now settled on an anti-anxiety medication that works for him with minimal side effects. He’s kept up with his audio diary as well, adding new entries every day. “Goddess” ducked his head in at one point, sending me a wave. It was good to see him again, and their relationship seems to be going as strong as ever.
When we hit the forty minute mark, however, the client interrupted our conversation about the difficulty of making new friends in your forties.
CLIENT: Ah, I’m afraid I have to leave you early today, my dear doctor.
ME: Oh? That’s a shame.
CLIENT: Apologies, but… I have to go have lunch with my family.
We both smiled at that choice of word, and I wished him the best before hanging up the call.
I’ve had hundreds of clients in my years as a therapist, but this is one I don’t think I’ll forget any time soon. I’m very proud of how far he’s come, and I look forward to the remainder of our sessions together, however many there may be.
[Notes end]