18 - "How long have you been waiting to make that joke?"

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We're somewhere in Ohio, and we're closing in on where Heath is still in the hospital. The hospital thinks he has a mental problem, so I'm going to be the psychologist on hand, and probably say that he's fine, even if he should go on involuntary hold.

"Hi, I'm Dallas Winters. I'm Heath's sister and a psychologist in New York City. Can I take a look at him?"

"Can I see some credentials?"

"I don't carry my degree with me, but you can look up my name."

"I have a picture from her graduation day at Columbia." Dean says, and goes into his wallet, taking out a picture of the two of us where I'm holding my diploma from grad school.

"I didn't know you had that." I whisper to him and he shrugs with a little smile on his face.

"It's legit enough. What's your office's name so I can get your official credentials while you talk to him." I tell her the name and location of my clinic, and tell her to ask for Mic, explain the situation, and she'll transfer her to Dr. Prince. "Could you get me a DSM-4, though?" She reaches into her own pocket and hands me the booklet.

"Hey, Heathy." I smile, walking into the room. He looks beat the fuck up.

"Hey, Dal." He smiles and I hug him tight.

"Can we get a minute guys, I'm going to work some psycho magic." I hold up the little book.

"You callin' me crazy?" Heath asks and I just shake my head.

"The hospital is, I'm not." I run a hand through his hair. "How have your dreams been lately?" I climb up onto his bed, and he sits up.

"Weird, but they've always been weird. I think it's because I've never really had a bed to call mine."

"You didn't call your bed on Long Island yours?"

"It wasn't." He shakes his head. "That was weird, that we were in one place for years. And in such a random place that took so long to get to. I don't know. I never really liked it there, that's why I was always in the city. I like it there."

"And where have you been lately? Have you been anywhere that might fuck up your sleep schedule? A lot of time zone changes?"

"Not really." He shakes his head. "I've never really had a problem with the time zone changes anyway." He shrugs.

"How have you felt lately? I know I helped you out with some Paxil a few months back, do you think your manic-ness could be a result of that?"

"No. I did what you told me to, took it for three days to allow it into my system, and then on the fourth day, I took it again, and it made me like, crazy, I hated it. I was still panicky."

"I put you on a low dose, you were supposed to take the half the bottle and then I would get you a new prescription of a higher dosage."

"Well, I stopped after four days."

"They're going to put you in involuntary hold. You're going to have to tell them that you're willing to go into the mental ward for a few weeks so they can get you on a medication and I'm going to need to become your psychologist. You're going to need time off from hunting. A few months."

"What?" He says, his eyes wide. "That's no fair. I love hunting."

"Yeah, well, right now, hunting is going to kill your brain. You're in a high state of anxiety. Your body will go into some sort of shock if you don't get some sort of medication. They'll hold you here until you see yourself fit to go. You get one phone call a day, maybe every few days. You call me. I'll let you know how long until we'll be back, and then you'll come stay with me in New York."

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