Perfect On The Outside

Chapter Twelve: Therapeutic Measures

When I woke up the second time, I find myself in between Annabeth and Sofie. On Annabeth's lap to be exact. They were both awake, deep in conversation.

"Sofie, "Annabeth murmurs. "Can I ask you a question?"

Sofie's eyebrows furrow. Guess she wasn't expecting her to ask to ask her something. "Sure,"she responds anyway.

"Do you wish you never met us?"

She blinks, then shakes her head. "No, of course not."

"Honestly?"

"A hundred percent." She pauses, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I can't picture being friends with anyone else."

Annabeth smiles. She brushes a strand of my hair away, looking down toward me. "You awake sleeping beauty?"

I yawn. "No. Though how did I end up on your lap?"

"Sofie had to get up earlier, for... you know. I had pulled you closer to me while she was gone. When I woke up, I moved you and tada you are, where you are."

As for Sofie's "you know", let's just say it's for health reasons.

"Don't you have an appointment today?"Sofie asks.

"Yes,"I reply grudgingly.

They both grin, the same little gleam in their eyes. The next thing I know I'm being pulled off the bed.

****
"Spencer,"Dr.Wise says.

"Huh?" I look up from my phone. I was digging through all the pictures that were on there. The one I stopped on was of Sawyer.

"I get you normally keep things closed off. But you're on your phone, that's a new one."

"Sorry, I'm putting some things away."

She puts her hand out for my phone, without protest I give it to her. She looks at the screen, seemingly unphased. When she looks back up at me, I think she's searching for some kind of emotion, anything. When she doesn't find anything her eyebrows knit together.

"Are you okay?"she asks.

"I'm fine. Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Mhm."

"Would you mind explaining to me by what you mean by mostly?"

"Oh right." I explain what happened during this last week. She writes it all down, listening intently.

It's a relief to see her again, see her writing everything I say down. The other therapists just didn't give the same feel as her. She seems to be more at ease now too. As she continues to write down what I told her, I take the time to actually see Dr. Wise.

The first word that comes to mind is warm. Her demeanor, generally her, gives off the sense of kindness and warmth. The second thought is beautiful. Like Sofie, Dr. Wise is hispanic. Her dark black hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and her dark brown eyes show nothing but kindness.

She takes off her black rimmed glasses and brushes a strand of hair away. She seems a bit tired, which is a first for me to see.

Now my eyebrows knit together. "Are you okay?"I ask her.

She smiles at me. "I'm fine Spencer. I- This is your time. We should be talking about you."

"Like I said I'm mostly fine. I'm processing letting go of Sawyer. And I'm hoping that I'm not crazy because I thought I saw him."

"You aren't,"she assures me. "It's natural for trauma patients to have a views of what happened, or of someone's who's passed because of what's happened."