Given Up For Adoption (an R5 Fanfiction)

Chapter Thirty

Ross' POV

I said nothing the whole car ride to the mysterious destianation. Riker was on the phone talking to someone about something that I didn't care to listen to. After finishing his conversation, he dialed another number. My guess is that they never answered because he set aside his phone without saying a word.

I almost asked about where our journey would end several times, my curiousity pushing me to do so, but I resisted and stared out the window as everything from houses to trees flew passed the car. I was completly lost in my own thoughts when Rocky tapped me on the shoulder, signaling that we had arrived. I climbed out of the car and was met by the sight of a large, white building, that I immediatly indentified as a three story doctor's office.

Why are we here? I followed Rocky into the building and sat in one of the annoyingly uncomfortable, plastic chairs. Riker sat next to me and I gave him a confused look as if to ask, "Why are we here?" I guess he either didn't understand what I was trying to ask him or he just ignored me because he looked away from me without answering. Sighing under my breath, I leaned back in my chair, wanting nothing more then to be alone with my thoughts. I had a lot to think about, and it was hard to do so when there were constant voices from people all around and beeps from all kinds of different machines that were scattered around the waiting room. But I did try.

What are we doing here? I would much rather be back sitting on the couch, thinking of the endless possibilities of what I would be able to do about my miserable grades in school. Instead, here I was sitting in the middle of a doctor's office waiting room, impatiently waiting for the doctor to call me or one of my siblings into a room. I'm not sure who we were here for, but I having feeling that it's for me. Hopefully I'm wrong.

There was something about doctors that I just didn't like. I'm sure most people don't like going to the doctor's, but I especially hate it. Maybe it was because I didn't know much about them, and the very few things I did know about doctor's is that they identified if you were sick or wounded. I never went to a doctor for either of those things, and maybe that's why I despised them, because instead of being cared for by a doctor, I had to hide in my room and use some of the few things that I had in my room for medical equipment such as bandages and wraps.

I quickly shook my head to rid myself of horrid memories. I didn't want to relive those things. They would, hopefully, never happen again, not with my new family. My real family.

I'm not sure how long we were waiting there, it could have been minutes or hours, but eventually, a doctor walked through a door, looking at a clipboard that he held in his hands.

"Ross Lynch," he called my name. I guess I was right in thinking that we are here for me. Riker stood up and motioned for me to come with him. I stood as well, but we were the only two to stand, the others stayed seated. Apprantly they were just going to wait there. I suppose that's why it's called a waiting room.

Me and Riker followed the doctor back to one of the rooms that lined the long hallway. The walls were completely white. How original. I took a seat on a couch type thing, and Riker stood against the wall. I leaned against the back of the couch, having the strange feeling that I was being interrogated. Have I mentioned that I hate doctors? Well if I haven't then let me just point out that I REALLY hate doctors.

"I'm Dr. Winston. So, Ross, your brother tells me that you're having trouble reading?" He asked, not looking up from his clipboard. I nodded, if he didn't catch it because he was to focused on his papers, it's not my problem.

"Do you have any trouble seeing things up close? Is anything blurry?" He questioned, in what sounded to me like a voice that one would use when talking to a small child.

"No," I voiced my answer this time, seeing as it was an actual question and not just a check for confirmation.

Dr. Winston glanced up from his the clipboard in his hands to give me a questioning look, as if he thought I wasn't telling the truth.

"It's okay if you can't see clearly, you can tell me," he said in the most insincere voice I've ever heard. I felt angry. He was treating me like I was a child who didn't know a thing that was going on.

I tried my hardest to keep my voice calm, "I'm positive that I can see just fine."

He nodded some what hesitantly. I resisted the urge glare at the doctor.

"Do you have any other problems in school besides reading?" He asked. The look on his face told me all I needed to know. He thought I was just stupid. Maybe I was, but what right did he have to think that! I took a deep breath.

"I am not stupid, if that's what you were implying," I didn't even ask if it was, it was more of a statement. He looked slightly shocked, as if I had read his thoughts, but he immediatly tried to compose himself. He didn't do a very good job. Who needs to read people's minds when what they are thinking is so clearly written on their faces?

"Though I do have some struggles in math. I don't really understand the problems. Their just like jumbles of letters and numbers," I continued, answering his earlier question. I spoke in a calm voice and kept my face emotionless, so as not to show the anger that I had towards this man. He did not need to know and neither did Riker.

"What about when you read? Do the words make any sense to you at all?" Dr. Winston inquired, seemingly on to something.

I paused for a moment, contemplating my answer.

"No, they don't make any sense. It's like they are written in a completely different language," I explained slowly, forming the words in my mind just as I spoke them.

"I think I may know what's wrong," I didn't like the way he said that. It was like a mixture of relief from figuring out what was wrong, but also sympathy, as if what was wrong was terribly bad.

"I think that Ross may have dyslexia," I gave the doctor a confused look, not having heard of such a thing before in my life. Riker seemed to know what he said though, because, try as he might to hide it, grief and sorrow covered his face like a bright mask, so easy to see.

I don't understand? What's so bad? Now that we know what's wrong, we can fix it, right?

I voiced my thoughts, "What's that? And why is it so bad?"

Riker was about to speak, but the doctor beat him to it, "Dyslexia is a disorder that makes it harder for people to read. There is no cure for it." Oh.

"But-" Riker butted in, "you can get help for it, and one day, with a lot of hard work, you'll be able to read as well as everyone else. Maybe even better." He was trying to make things better. I gave him a small smile to reassure him that I was fine.

"I'm surprised you didn't catch this sooner. Most parents notice that their children are struggling when they first start to learn the alphabet and read. I'm surprised he made it this far in school without anyone noticing. Why is that?" Dr, Winston asked, turning to me.

I froze, consumed entirely by memories of school back in Kansas. I remember telling my dad once that I didn't understand what we were learning sometime in first or second grade. He just told me to shut up and fix my grades before he smacked me. I suppose calling me a stupid fuck up didn't really help either. I was no longer in the doctor's office. I was back with my horrible adoptive parents. That's all that I could see, hear, and feel. And I just wanted it to stop.

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Author's Note: And the chapter is finished! Yay! It was good, wasn't it? I hope you think so! I spent a lot of time and effort on it. Hope you enjoyed! Do you want to punch Dr. Winston in the face? If you don't then you probably don't have a soul. Or you're just like me and you're really awesome! Most likely the second one. Well, that's all for now so, BYE!!