Infinite (Marvel fan fiction) Prequel Three-Shot

The only thing I ever asked...

It was the eleventh of July, in 2011. A Monday. She was in downtown. It was quiet for a Monday in downtown. Usually, it was a lot noisier, especially since it was nearing the end of lunchtime and everyone was rushing back to their jobs or going back to the university. That, and it was summer. Barely anyone attended a summer semester, so the area was mostly crowded with businessmen, and pedestrians hanging out in groups of friends or family. Maybe it was because she was in a much more isolated area, where buildings considered 'medical' were grouped apart from the rest.

Where the 'sick' people go.

The session she was currently in, at 1:45 past noon, was just like she expected it to be. The psychiatrist would speak very little yet a lot. He would ask a lot of questions, yet each one of them was either the same, if not simpler than the previous one, all containing about, at least, five to eight words. It was enough to make the client spill every little detail about their life, though. Enough to make them comfortable knowing that it was all about them and no one would know but the psychiatrist. No one would know of your problems but him.

Your secret was safe.

But she didn't go to reveal her life to a psychiatrist. No. She went, only seeking guidance. That and some of her teachers back at school recommended her talking to someone as she seemed very empty and cold lately, especially throughout her oral presentations. Someone who seeks to become a lawyer in the future needs to learn how to be indifferent when defending a case, but they shouldn't be cold and empty. They should be neutral and understanding, but that side of her seemed to have disappeared. She was told that if she talked to someone, she would surely get better.

Everyone gets better with a little bit of guidance.

She didn't want to speak to her teachers about her problem, though. It would undoubtedly go on her permanent record, becoming a huge rash on any future reference she'd unlikely get for a future job. No one would want to hire someone with problems of any sort. She couldn't talk to her mother even if she wanted to; they never spoke as it is. You'd think they would, considering their rooms are right across from each other, but, ever since her father passed away, her mother had become distant. They never spoke a word to each other unless it was to pass on the salt at supper or to ask if there was still any milk at breakfast. They were like two strangers living together.

It was the same with her brother. The day he started high school, he never paid her as much attention as he did when they were both still in elementary school. He had completely left his little sister behind to fend for herself, and though she silently told herself she'd forgiven him for that, a part of her never really did. Her closest friends were still high school in the year they were meant to be, while she was a fifteen-year-old in college. Though unusual yet remarkable, she couldn't count on them to guide her back into the right path; they hadn't been around her long enough to know what problems she'd gotten herself into. Her ex-boyfriend was in prison, and there was no way she was turning that way for guidance since it was that path that made her stray in the first place. Her current boyfriend had decided to go MIA, and his family, though extremely religious as his father was a Reverend, wouldn't really help her. They would just try to get her to rejoin a Catholic Church group and go to meetings where they talk about God and such. Now, don't get her wrong; she loves God, but a Bible wasn't going to help her right now.

Her next best bet was a psychiatrist. Her first session had gone quite well; of course, she didn't reveal anything about her life, which was quite upsetting for Dr. Gagnon. She barely spoke, yet when she did, it was vague or riddled, so he opted for asking her the simple questions and let her answer on her own, studying more of her body language and taking notes of it; sometimes actions spoke more than words, but she was still hard to read. He would probably have to give her some time, it was only their second session after all.