I Shouldn't Love You Anymore | Alex Karev |

Chapter 13

A/N: This is just kind of like a filler chapter, but stay tuned for more excitement and drama!

"So, Doctor Sloan, is there anything you'd like to talk about?" the therapist asked, clicking her pen repeatedly. The sound soothed me, and since I wasn't making any effort in striking up a conversation, the therapist was constantly sighing, and trying to coax me into talking. 

"Look, Doctor Sloan, I know you don't want to be here but your brother feels that this is necessary. If he didn't, then he wouldn't be paying expensive prices just for you to sit here in silence." Doctor Wyatt said, sighing once again. Eventually, I leaned forward, and stared into Doctor Wyatt's eyes, and then I fell back against my chair. 

"Do you treat Meredith Grey?" I spoke finally, and Doctor Wyatt stopped clicking her pen, and opened a folder.

"Yes, I do treat Meredith Grey, but I'm supposed to be the one asking questions here." she answered, and I rolled my eyes at the carefulness of her choice of words. 

"What do you want me to talk about?" I finally asked, even though I already knew the answer, I was just killing time so I could hurry up and get the Hell out of there. 

"Your life. The good parts and the bad parts. Or should I say, the most prominent and significant parts." she said, and I nodded slowly. "Perhaps it would be prudent to start from the very beginning." 

"Okay. Well, for as long as I can remember as a child, my parents were alcoholics. They beat me and Mark up, I had to go to hospital pretending I'd fallen down the stairs a few times. They once threatened me with a knife when Mark wasn't there. When Mark turned eighteen, he moved out straight away, and he left me with them, by myself with no protection for five years." I spoke, my voice trembling slightly as I said that last sentence. I'd forgiven Mark for leaving me behind, with no one at all to defend me from those monstrous parents, he was young and stupid. At least he came back for me, even if it was years later. 

"Then, I went to go live with Mark, which was an improvement. He actually fed me, and my bruises healed, but I guess some scars never fade. Mark cared for me like no one else had ever done. He let me hang out with Amelia Shepherd, you know, Derek Shepherd's little sister. The only thing was, Mark slept around a lot, well, he still does. So, every weekend he was at some other woman's house, or worse, he brought them back to the apartment. I don't know how I did it, but I graduated from high school as valedictorian. I was the smartest there, the one with the biggest ambitions. I wanted to take after Mark, and his friends, Derek and Addison. So, I got a scholarship to Columbia. I went, but from my childhood, I slipped into depression. I couldn't get out, until Amelia, brought me something to help me. She dragged me out with her to a nightclub, and in the bathroom, she had cocaine, in her bag. She offered me some, and I took it with no hesitation. I needed an escape. Then, it was every Friday and Saturday, Amy and I would go to a nightclub, and get high, so so high, and take shots and party. It helped me forget." I explained my past, digging up roots I vowed never to dig up. 

Doctor Wyatt listened on in silence, scribbling down notes. My eyes were glassy now, tears were forcing to spill at any moment. My past was something I hated to bring up, and here I was now, telling the tales of it to a therapist. I did have to admit that my recent behavior had been out of character for me. I had shown no enthusiasm for my work, isolated myself from people, and I had begun to go to Joe's bar every night after work to down shots and snap at any guys look for a one night stand. Meredith and Cristina and George had each tried to help me out of my misery, and it got to the point where they had to call in Callie, Derek and Mark. Mark had noticed my behavior, and he decided that I was depressed. I was not depressed, nor was he a psychologist, so I told him he had no right to diagnose me with such a thing. It was then, that he gave me an ultimatum. Either I act like myself, or he take me to a therapist. So, I did try my best to become myself, but I was finding it difficult when everything was taking its toll on me. Mark then took it into his own hands to book me a session with a therapist in the hospital. I'd argued with him that I really didn't need these sessions, but he insisted. So here, I was.