goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

Okay sudden but- alright. He leads Mal back through the halls to his doctor's office, knocking lightly. Dr. Ramirez is less than pleased with how LATE he is but- Mal's there with him and that's. probably good.

"Come in, sit down. Coffee, tea, fruit juice?" Something to get them comfortable and get York hydrated.

"You got any pineapple juice?" York slumps in the nearest sofa, massaging the bridge of his nose against another headache.

What, he wasn't going back for seconds, and apparently York was plenty late enough as it was. But in the office, he doesn't...know quite what to do with himself. Does he sit? Maybe he'll just stand over here by the door. Sure, therapists are important. And with all the shit in his head, he might need one. Doesn't have to like his own advice, though.

"Yes but you don't drink pineapple juice." Water is usually what York has but- the man just shrugs and smiles. "Felt like changing it up."

Dr. Ramirez gives Malcolm a curious look but doesn't comment. Opts to instead pour York a glass of pineapple juice and ask him questions about the drift. Was it easy, was it hard. Was carolina a third party. Was that disorienting? Was having another mind against his distressing at all? Did he need anything afterward?

He'll take time that isn't spent on him to wander around the space, peering at objects and books. Listen to York. Half-listen to the counselor. If one half is here, does the other half need to be? Hm. They did experience things differently, and the aftermath was different.

Dr. Ramirez turns her attention to Malcolm. "And you? How have you been handling the drift?"

The sudden attention makes him snap toward her. Searching for words. "Not well?" he posits. "But I don't have much to compare it to, besides him."

"What do you mean by not well?" York rolls his eyes behind her, but offers an encouraging smile.

Don't you roll your eyes at him, that gets a disapproving frown.

"I don't know. It doesn't seem well. I seem to be stable now, more or less, however."

"Disorientation." York offers. "The physical strain had him out of it and nauseous and he didn't think he was back in his own skin till I grounded him."

"Grounded him."

"Yeah. Sent him to bed without dinner." He smirks, Ramirez snorts a laugh and turns her attention back to Malcolm. "Have you experienced the appearance of Clair Moran?"

More frowning. Such frown at York. So now speaking for him and then making weird jokes?

"If you are referring to York's former partner, then yes, I have seen her."

"Only seen?" York shuts up about that. Talking about Clair is-

He doesn't like doing it. She's his. Theirs, now, but mostly his. Doesn't help that she's on the arm of the chair he's sitting on, playing with his hair. NOt that he can feel it but he feels that she wants to and that-

That's not fair.

Malcolm's brow furrows. "I don't know what else there would be. She hasn't spoken, and she doesn't have physical form. So far."

Have so. She murmurs and York tries not to flinch.

"So far? Do you expect that to change?"

"It could, but I wouldn't expect it. I didn't expect to see her, either, so what I expect means nothing."

"She's a shared hallucination right now. Expectations can change the nature of a delusion, even one that's been inherited." Carolina looks affronted to be called a 'delusion' and York just. Stares into his juice. He wants this over.

"We done here?"

"It could be that I just haven't seen the full range of the hallucination yet. I'd like to remind everyone in the room that all of this happened only hours ago, and some of that time was spent asleep. Everything's going to be banging their pots and pans around for a good deal longer."

"...Yeah we're done here. See you later doc." York sets his empty glass down and pushes himself off the sofa, nudging Malcolm with his shoulder on the way out. Leave. Leave now before they make you stay.

...What is going on? "York?" Didn't he want to do this together? Didn't he find the suggestion of doing this separately strange?

"We're leaving Mal." He curls his hand around Malcolm's wrist and tugs, leading him into the hall. Only when they're further away does he relax enough to mumble. "It's never gonna be a good session when she opens with 'Carolina is just a delusion.' I don't wanna deal with that today."

"She barely even spoke to me. I thought you wanted me there. So we could talk things out. I suppose I can just stay there and listen to you when you're there." He tugs his wrist from York's hand.

"I have no opinion on you being there or not. It's your call." He lets go, slinging his hands in his pockets. "What's there to talk about? We drifted. Yay. We are, in fact, compatible. World is still ending and I'm still crazy."

"Then I thought you wanted to go. Just...hold on a moment, I'm...very confused here."

"I went because my continued presence in the dome is now dependent on seeing that therapist at least once a day." It wasn't until he sat down and spoke with her and now it's mandatory. He's just THAT special. "I went. I'm good for the day."

"Once a day." He knew it was regular but... "There is no way in hell I am going once a day. There should be no reason you have to."

"It's as much to help me recover as it is to study my brain." He shrugs. "You probably won't have to."

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