Round Three! DING DING!

[lynx]

Dr. Lynx Katze sat within his office; he was waiting patiently for Xander to arrive once more. This meeting wasn't going to be a pleasant one. The air told it in very many ways as he sat in apprehension, waiting and waiting for the inevitable meeting. Why wasn't HE allowed to skip off and have fun? Oh, right... He didn't take vacations well. Scantily-clad females throwing themselves on his person wasn't the best of ways to spend his off-work time. He never wanted a repeat of that even in Jamaica again. If that ever happened, he was sure to curl up in a ball and cry like a little girl. Pathetic? Who cared.

Tiredly eating the rest of his breakfast burrito, Katze had had another sleepless night. Hair disheveled, pretty white shirt and khaki pants, also mussed. He looked like he had just crawled out of bed, which he had. Not twenty-five minutes ago was he in sweet dreamland. Woken up (rudely) by Mink, and of course sent on his merry little way to work.

The cat stayed home today. There was a very specific reason for this. The blonde didn't wish for her to be harmed in any way, shape, or form by the very sensitive and temperamental werewolf. If she was harm, he'd kill Xander.

No, no, we're not meaning maimed here, or harmed. Murder was going to be the thing if that dog hurt his precious sweet angelic baby. No 'ifs' 'ands' or 'buts' about this. There would be blood shed once again! This was WAR! Mwahaha... Crazy Katze end.

The male sat there and waited, paper and pencil in hand. The therapist had forgotten about his little camera, and was already about to start writing notes. Who cared if he hurt his wrist? It'd live, he'd live, plus... He heard they might be making a replacement joint! Or something like that, right?

Watch was checked nervously. He had one agonizing minute until the male came into this room. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? He didn't know! He wasn't sure! This insane man (with little sleep) was about to burst! Completely!

"...Oh boy, it's just another day for me working in this place called Quack Shack." He murmured almost bitterly to himself; the irony. This man could've stayed at his own little private practice far, far away. Yet no! He refused such a path and traveled all the way to back-water land to do THIS! Yes, THIS for a living! This was beyond a madness or insanity that could be comprehended by the human mind. Indeed, Lynx Katze was a 'SUPER-MEGA-GENIUS-INHUMANLY-ASTRONOMICALLY-INSANE'!

Trumpets blared, horns made sounds... And in was coming that faithful, always on time (possibly because of the guards), Pierce Xander. Oh god what if he could read minds? If he read-mind that name, does that mean Lynx was going to get his ass kicked once again!? Oh please no.

The doctor was having a minature-stroke, please hold while he needs professional medical attention that he's obviously not getting because the creator of this delightful character, Tifferny, is a bitch. Yes, I said it. =D Now... back to our original presentation!

Lynx of course was fine, just a few shades paler at the thoughts that danced within his pretty, and quite girly head. He imagined horrible, terrible things about what Xander would do to him this time if those claw-like hands were around his throat! What is the wolf got out once again and murdered Lynx in its rage? What would happen to his precious and beloved Mink?! How could he dare to survive or be dead with the thought that she wouldn't be taken care of?! He had no heirs! Oh god...

Lynx texted his lawyer with the few seconds to spare, wanting to know if he could get his will made now just in case something horrible befell his person this day. He wanted everything left to Mink and someone paid to take care of her for the rest of her cute-fuzzy-kitty days. That was his only wish. And when she died? Everything else would be given to charity!

A charity that would be from-then-on called 'The Lissa Foundation'. Yes, he had already named this charity for little girls with problems and love of slasher films which of course, Lynx wasn't too fond of. It was all the blood, the killing, the sadness, and especially the fear of the victims that got him every single time in those films.

Why couldn't everyone just be happy and get along with one another in some little pile of joy and delight? Why wasn't that allowed?

So back to our original point; Xander was about to enter and the session was about to being! Woo! Milkshakes were ready and able to be drunk down!

[.xander;;]

caleb has been sixteen for almost two months. it’s early december, a week before the attack. he is blissfully unaware of the hell he will begin to know life as. he is, presently, blissfully unaware of everything.

it’s freezing outside. a blizzard is howling through daughtry. but the house is warm and silent. his mother is not home tonight. she barely ever is anymore. probably off with strange men all night, trying to fulfill the urges she has had to withhold for eight years, since she divorced caleb’s father. ironically, caleb has just begun to get similar urges. of course, teenage boys will be teenage boys, but the girl caleb is with is very special to him.

they are standing not very far apart, in his room. neither of them is clothed. they are both taking in the form of the other in a silence of awe and adoration. caleb realizes that julie is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, and that he loves her. he wonders why people say that they love each other enough to die for each other. caleb loves julie enough to live for her, and that is exactly what he is doing.

both approach each other at the same time, and soon they are bonded in an affectionate embrace. they move towards the bed, on which caleb very gently lays his beloved. he kneels above her, straddling her gorgeous form. for a while, they simply explore each other’s bodies in wonder. they are in no rush, for they are in love.

xander remembers every curve of her body. sometimes, he can even feel it. that night was vivid in his memory, though it occurred almost six years ago. it was the last time he was truly happy before his life crashed down before his eyes. some would say it was the night he lost his virginity. he disagrees. he argues that he did not lose anything that night. he willingly gave his innocence to his love, as she gave hers to him.

if he tries hard enough, he can still hear her soft whimper and see her pained tears as he enters her. if he tries hard enough, he can still feel her arms wrap tightly around him as their bodies join in a breathtaking dance. he doesn’t have to try to remember her voice. it has never left him.

“caleb!” she cries with a mixture of pain and ecstasy.

“julie,” he moans intuitively in response.

soon they have tired. caleb collapses on the bed beside julie and holds her close. she sighs contentedly, snuggling up to his warm chest. it is late, and they should sleep, but neither wants the moment to end.

“i love you,” xander relives whispering in her ear. his heart swells with love and nostalgia as he waits for the reply he recalls distinctly, i love you, too.

but caleb feels a terrible throe in his chest. he shouts in agony and, terrified, gapes at his lover. there is a bloody hole in his chest, and his beloved is clenching his still-beating heart tightly in her fist. caleb watches in horror and despair as his heart blackens and dies in her grasp.

she hisses maliciously, “i never loved you.”

xander started up in a cold sweat. in his panic, he fell off the bed and landed brutally on the hard tile floor, causing him to yelp in pain. the pain of that, however, was dwarfed compared to the agony that tore through his chest. his right hand shot to his chest, grabbing at the place where he had been torn open. he found no gaping hole where there had been one previously, but his breaths were still shallow and rushed, and his eyes still wide in horrification.

the lycanthrope trembled violently, though by now he had realized that the nightmare had been just that--a dream. one that was oddly fitting of his life, he thought sickly. his heart felt as empty and broken as it had been in the dream and he felt tears pulling at the corners of his eyes. using an extraordinary effort, the young man pushed back his tears. he would not allow himself to cry over her. he had promised himself that the day she left him to die. and even after four years, he was still dying, slowly, inside.

it was katze’s fault. the terrible dream had been triggered by katze’s bullshit. if he hadn’t pounded her vivid memory into xander’s mind…

although the lights were not yet turned on, instinct told him it was almost time to get up. the 21-year-old stood, rubbing each eye with his fist to remove all evidence that his eyes had held tears. by the time the lights did blare on, he was already dressed and ready and was immediately let out.

since his…accident, many of xander’s rights he had worked hard to gain had been stripped from him, one of them being his freedom to use the 2nd floor’s showers whenever he pleased. because of this, he had a much longer time at breakfast but refused to eat. he was still so upset he didn’t think he could.

this was not going to be a good day, he thought later when he was on the way to dr. katze’s office. it was already pretty shitty, and usually days that started shitty ended up turning even shittier. today’s topic was his parents. that didn’t bother him. what bothered him was katze’s expectancy for him to be open. they had had four sessions thus far, one ending in blood, and the psychiatrist expected xander to tell him about every aspect, every detail of his life! were people in medical school taught that everyone loved spilling their deepest secrets to people they didn’t even know?

but maybe cooperating today would keep the day from becoming more of a living hell than normal. maybe…today, he would make an effort to be more open. not for katze’s contentment; for his own security. xander didn’t think he could take much more agony. for this reason, he entered the office of his own will, sat down with the board, and actually wrote ’morning. to lynx.

[lynx]

By the way, in such shock to the other actually GREETING his sorry ass, he blinked, and the shock caused him to DROP his clipboard and notes. It took him a moment to fixate into reality, and he grapsed up the fallen items. Swollen, bloody, and bruised wrist revealed.

The therapist didn't care about this as he picked up everything. Settling the notes and crap within his lap.

"Good morning Xander!" He replied quite cheerfully, despite his wrist telling him to die. That, and his appearance was rather mussed, much more-so than usual. Yet, the male was attempting his best to stay awake and alert--if Xander actually GREETED him in a nice manner, what could be next?!

This day was WONDERFUL! Now it seemed literal hearts and sunshine were going to come off of him!

"What did you dream about?"

[.xander;;]

ugh. he could have lived without the cheerfulness. xander knew how to be emotionless when dealing with people. maybe he could teach katze. it would make both their lives easier. also, note xander hadn’t actually said ‘good morning.’ one, he wasn’t having a good one, and two, it did not by any means indicate that he was at all pleased with lynx.

i didn’t dream, the brunet lied. the bags under his eyes indicated that any sleep he had gotten was restless and the grieved look in his blue-green eyes gave away his mood.

xander noticed the therapist’s wrist. it was caked with dried blood and painted with bruises. though he couldn’t smell the other side very well due to the wall, the scent still lingered distantly, making him wince. he glanced at the camera. weren’t you going to use that today?

[lynx]

Looks at the other. Ah, bad mood, little to no sleep, possibly any sleep recieved was nightmares. Will delve into those things later. He looked at his wrist for a moment and wondered what he was going to do about it. It looked absolutely painful, felt horrible. He tugged down the sleeve even more-so than usual to hide that disgusting part. Buttons the sleeve and leaves it in place.

He glanced at the camera. "Ah, I decided to use it with my other pacients." Bullshit, he wasn't going to use it at all. He'd rather suffer than get better. Switches hands with the pen and now writes quite slowly, rather than his lightning-fast scrawl. Looks up at Xander.

Oh crap, he didn't know what to say... So just smiles and waits for the reply!

[.xander;;]

maybe it was just him, but katze seemed to have gotten even dumber since their last visit. the assuming was pretty stupid, but disregarding his own health was just downright retarded. besides, this guy was all happy-smiley, and he had a life outside of the quack shack. that probably meant there were people who cared about him. didn’t he care what about him would hurt them?

speaking of people close to lynx, xander didn’t see the demon cat, or even sense that she was present at all. had the therapist left her at home? he found it hard to believe, but he liked it. maybe the guy did listen to him every once in a while.

maybe if he was beginning to consider the patient’s wants, he would also consider what he didn’t want. such as a large number of questions regarding, can you prescribe some kind of sleeping pill that knocks you out? you know, into a completely blank sleep or something.

[lynx]

"...Only if you tell me that you're suffering from nightmares and describe them to me. Otherwise I have no... reason, and no authority to do as such." He STILL had to go by SOME of the laws. He shifted within his seat and pondered calling home to see how his precious baby Mink was doing.

Oh he was just so worried about his precious baby kitty!

[.xander;;]

well, he should have seen that coming. it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it wasn’t good, either. xander had absolutely no intentions of telling katze about any of his dreams, much less describing them. even the ones that weren’t about getting laid were private. after all, why would they be his dreams if everyone else had access to them?

but they hurt so much… as much as he hated to admit it, even if it wasn’t for a mental disorder, xander needed help. he just didn’t want it from this guy. what could katze do for him, anyway? all he’d done thus far was make the patient miserable.

have you ever tried sleeping inside a white box? he leaned closer to katze, so the tip of his nose just barely touched the glass wall. it doesn’t work.

[lynx]

Lynx's eyes looked at the other, almost pressed against the wall. He wondered something privately for a moment before chuckling.

"...Like a bare white room, completely devoid of anything but the whiteness, maybe once in awhile you got a dirty towel to sleep on, that was it? Yes... I quite know about sleeping in white boxes, Xander... They do bring nightmares."

[.xander;;]

xander leaned back in his chair. he could tell katze wasn’t lying, but that kind of irked him. he didn’t appreciate being able to relate to the therapist at all. what had happened to him? had he once been crazy, too? was that why he was a stupid psychiatrist? xander couldn’t think why anyone would want such a job. he was tempted to ask why katze had also experienced that, but didn’t. it would just waste time, and probably make him angrier.

so does that mean you can let me slide? was a much better response.