HlcDec
May 31, 2013, 5:30 a.m.
Don't Leave me Now: Chapter 3
M - Words: 1,553 - Last Updated: May 31, 2013 Story: Closed - Chapters: 3/? - Created: Jan 22, 2012 - Updated: May 31, 2013 122 0 0 0 0
Author's Notes: Kurt settled himself into the corner of Rachel's obnoxiously pink sofa, accepting the lemonade she handed him.
"Now I know we don't have anything scheduled until next week, which means you either want to bitch or somethings up." She folded her legs beneath her delicately and surveyed his expression with a seriousness only Rachel could achieve.
"Okay, you're going to think I'm crazy, but... there's this family, their son committed suicide a little over a month ago. The mother asked me to help her clear the kids bedroom, she's not up to it really." He paused and Rachel remained silent, signalling with her hand for him to continue. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead.
"So I went today and the room is so full of personality, it seemed the kid was well liked by his peers, had a pretty active social life. Not much out of the norm. But there was this box hidden under a floor board filled with memories. Filled with letters and concert stubs all evidence of time spent with his boyfriend." He stopped again, still questioning his sanity at the whole situation, let alone the fact that he was about to fill his best friend in on it completely.
"Kurt, why's this got you so rattled?" Genuine concern rang true in Rachel's voice as she lent forward to touch his arm gently.
"It's just... well I heard someone talk to me, but no-one was there. I figured I'm just tired right? So I carried on and I heard it again. Then the next time I heard it the kid was right there, across the room."
"The kid that killed himself?" She probed gently, worry creasing her brow. He nodded and continued.
"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, I didn't even believe it myself at first - I'm not sure I believe it now. But... He asked me to read him a couple of the letters and, it seemed hard for him and he's hiding so much. I just, this is so bizarre Rachel, like I doubt even you would have thought anything this insane up back in high school. What the hell am I supposed to do?" He looked over at Rachel, hoping to hell she didn't have him committed right away, and if she did that she'd at least find him somewhere kind. She seemed to think for a moment, sipping her own lemonade thoughtfully.
"Well, assuming that this is real and not a figment of your clearly over active and attention starved imagination, I think you need to tread carefully. Obviously the kid has some issues, probably unresolved if he's still - um... here? I'm guessing he chose you to appear to for a reason. Maybe he trusts you, maybe he can't appear to his family, I take it none of them have said anything to you?" Her nose scrunched up adorably while she sought the right words for what was admittedly a very bizarre situation.
"No, I mean I probably wouldn't have believed it if they did. They seem quite... uh... straight laced. I've only met the mother, but the father seems more brusque, like he doesn't really want to accept, well anything. Just from what I've heard from the kid and his mother, he doesn't seem a very forgiving character." Rachel nodded, clearly processing the information. Kurt fingered the tassels on the edge of the yellow, star spangled throw that rested on the arm of the sofa. Relief flooded his body, knowing now that Rachel was definitely the right choice to speak to.
Neither of them spoke for a while, both running the information over in their heads. The light slowly dimmed as the sun set over Lima, Ohio. Rachel got up, switching on a couple of standing lamps, bathing the room in an artificial yellowy glow.
"Do you think he'll be there when you go back?" Her voice was soft, her eyes trained intently on Kurt's face.
"I don't know, he heard his Mom coming upstairs, told me not to show them the box and disappeared. He seemed kind of freaked."
"I'd say he will be then, assuming he can - I don't know if there are rules? If he is, just talk to him, there might be some reason he's here, something he has to do in order to move on. This is so strange. How old did you say he was?"
"19, held back a year in school, he would have gone to college this fall." She grimaced sympathetically.
"Okay, well I'd just talk to him, while you're sorting through his room. Try to figure out what it is that pushed him to the limit, maybe you'll find some closure for his family while you're at it? I'm sorry, I know it's not much help. "
"No, honestly, just talking about it is helping. I honestly thought I was going mad for a while."
"Hey, you still might be!" She pointed a jokey finger at him and stood, giggling.
"Come on, lets get some food, I'm thinking take out, I found this great new vegan place... I think even you'll like the Tofu." Kurt stood and followed her into the kitchen, shaking his head slightly. It was good to have a friend like Rachel sometimes.
***
Kurt was nearing the end of the hour with Mrs Anderson. She had seemed very closed up today, no matter what he did she just didn't want to talk today. She seemed tense and closed off, so much more so than he'd seen her before.
"Have you given any more thought to a joined session with both you and Mr Anderson?" She glanced up at him briefly before returning her gaze to the gloves that had been clutched primly in her hands since she entered the room nearly fifty minutes ago.
"No, he really wouldn't even consider the idea. He doesn't even like the idea that I attend. Thank you for your concern though Mr Hummel." She continued to run the gloves through her fingers repetitively. Kurt closed his eyes momentarily, shot down again.
"Okay, but if either of you changes your mind feel free to contact me. Have you gotten any further with Blaine's room?"
"Oh, no I haven't, I was actually wondering if you would be able to continue to help with that. Are you available at all this week?" Kurt raised an eyebrow and reached over to grab his diary from the glass desk, thumbing through it for available slots. He had a few in office sessions booked, and two out of office sessions, other than that he was free most afternoons. He penciled the Anderson's in, contemplating whether he'd see Blaine again, and finished up the session, bidding Mrs Anderson farewell and closing the door behind her, somewhat gratefully. That was definitely one of the least productive sessions he'd experienced in his short career.
He'd joined Bullcastle Psychiatric Services fresh out of College, having graduated High School early and earning multiple scholarships, he was just 22 when he graduated. Bullcastle was known as a very diverse and unorthodox practice, but it got results. So the fact that Kurt was thrown straight into intensive training was no surprise. Six months after being hired he actually saw his first patient under the supervision of Ray Bullcastle himself. Ray worked closely with every one that entered the practice to assure they gave the most comprehensive, best service they could to their clients. He often went above and beyond, and expected his employees to do so also. He payed them well, but expected the best from them. Kurt had been with the practice just two years, but already had a dedicated client base and often gained new clients who had heard about him from friends or family.
Mrs Anderson had heard of Kurt through a friend on the panel of horticulturists, and had been attending sessions for a couple of weeks. When Kurt saw the Anderson name on his appointment list he was somewhat taken aback. Everybody knew of the Andersons. The father was the head of an international medical supplies company started by his grandfather, they were obscenely wealthy and the fact that their youngest son committed suicide wast he talk of the town. However, considerable money must have changed hands as there was no mention of it in the papers. Not even so much as a small notice in the back with the rest of the obituaries. Kurt knew the minute Mrs Anderson had entered his office that this would be an interesting, trying and quite probably long term case. He hadn't of course banked on the other interesting developments.
He looked down his appointment list, noting he had one other appointment that day before he could finish up some paperwork and head home. His Dad and Carol were coming over for dinner, it had been nearly three weeks since Kurt had been able to make time to see his Dad and he was looking forward to it immensely. The buzzer from reception sounded and the receptionist, Anna's, voice rang through his office loud and clear.
"Mr Jameson has arrived Mr Hummel." Kurt pressed the little button before responding.
"I'm ready now, send him in please." Kurt slipped his glasses back onto his nose and settled in for the next appointment, pushing all thoughts of the Anderson's and his highly looked forward to evening from his mind as he focused on the tall, wiry man now entering his office.
"Now I know we don't have anything scheduled until next week, which means you either want to bitch or somethings up." She folded her legs beneath her delicately and surveyed his expression with a seriousness only Rachel could achieve.
"Okay, you're going to think I'm crazy, but... there's this family, their son committed suicide a little over a month ago. The mother asked me to help her clear the kids bedroom, she's not up to it really." He paused and Rachel remained silent, signalling with her hand for him to continue. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead.
"So I went today and the room is so full of personality, it seemed the kid was well liked by his peers, had a pretty active social life. Not much out of the norm. But there was this box hidden under a floor board filled with memories. Filled with letters and concert stubs all evidence of time spent with his boyfriend." He stopped again, still questioning his sanity at the whole situation, let alone the fact that he was about to fill his best friend in on it completely.
"Kurt, why's this got you so rattled?" Genuine concern rang true in Rachel's voice as she lent forward to touch his arm gently.
"It's just... well I heard someone talk to me, but no-one was there. I figured I'm just tired right? So I carried on and I heard it again. Then the next time I heard it the kid was right there, across the room."
"The kid that killed himself?" She probed gently, worry creasing her brow. He nodded and continued.
"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, I didn't even believe it myself at first - I'm not sure I believe it now. But... He asked me to read him a couple of the letters and, it seemed hard for him and he's hiding so much. I just, this is so bizarre Rachel, like I doubt even you would have thought anything this insane up back in high school. What the hell am I supposed to do?" He looked over at Rachel, hoping to hell she didn't have him committed right away, and if she did that she'd at least find him somewhere kind. She seemed to think for a moment, sipping her own lemonade thoughtfully.
"Well, assuming that this is real and not a figment of your clearly over active and attention starved imagination, I think you need to tread carefully. Obviously the kid has some issues, probably unresolved if he's still - um... here? I'm guessing he chose you to appear to for a reason. Maybe he trusts you, maybe he can't appear to his family, I take it none of them have said anything to you?" Her nose scrunched up adorably while she sought the right words for what was admittedly a very bizarre situation.
"No, I mean I probably wouldn't have believed it if they did. They seem quite... uh... straight laced. I've only met the mother, but the father seems more brusque, like he doesn't really want to accept, well anything. Just from what I've heard from the kid and his mother, he doesn't seem a very forgiving character." Rachel nodded, clearly processing the information. Kurt fingered the tassels on the edge of the yellow, star spangled throw that rested on the arm of the sofa. Relief flooded his body, knowing now that Rachel was definitely the right choice to speak to.
Neither of them spoke for a while, both running the information over in their heads. The light slowly dimmed as the sun set over Lima, Ohio. Rachel got up, switching on a couple of standing lamps, bathing the room in an artificial yellowy glow.
"Do you think he'll be there when you go back?" Her voice was soft, her eyes trained intently on Kurt's face.
"I don't know, he heard his Mom coming upstairs, told me not to show them the box and disappeared. He seemed kind of freaked."
"I'd say he will be then, assuming he can - I don't know if there are rules? If he is, just talk to him, there might be some reason he's here, something he has to do in order to move on. This is so strange. How old did you say he was?"
"19, held back a year in school, he would have gone to college this fall." She grimaced sympathetically.
"Okay, well I'd just talk to him, while you're sorting through his room. Try to figure out what it is that pushed him to the limit, maybe you'll find some closure for his family while you're at it? I'm sorry, I know it's not much help. "
"No, honestly, just talking about it is helping. I honestly thought I was going mad for a while."
"Hey, you still might be!" She pointed a jokey finger at him and stood, giggling.
"Come on, lets get some food, I'm thinking take out, I found this great new vegan place... I think even you'll like the Tofu." Kurt stood and followed her into the kitchen, shaking his head slightly. It was good to have a friend like Rachel sometimes.
***
Kurt was nearing the end of the hour with Mrs Anderson. She had seemed very closed up today, no matter what he did she just didn't want to talk today. She seemed tense and closed off, so much more so than he'd seen her before.
"Have you given any more thought to a joined session with both you and Mr Anderson?" She glanced up at him briefly before returning her gaze to the gloves that had been clutched primly in her hands since she entered the room nearly fifty minutes ago.
"No, he really wouldn't even consider the idea. He doesn't even like the idea that I attend. Thank you for your concern though Mr Hummel." She continued to run the gloves through her fingers repetitively. Kurt closed his eyes momentarily, shot down again.
"Okay, but if either of you changes your mind feel free to contact me. Have you gotten any further with Blaine's room?"
"Oh, no I haven't, I was actually wondering if you would be able to continue to help with that. Are you available at all this week?" Kurt raised an eyebrow and reached over to grab his diary from the glass desk, thumbing through it for available slots. He had a few in office sessions booked, and two out of office sessions, other than that he was free most afternoons. He penciled the Anderson's in, contemplating whether he'd see Blaine again, and finished up the session, bidding Mrs Anderson farewell and closing the door behind her, somewhat gratefully. That was definitely one of the least productive sessions he'd experienced in his short career.
He'd joined Bullcastle Psychiatric Services fresh out of College, having graduated High School early and earning multiple scholarships, he was just 22 when he graduated. Bullcastle was known as a very diverse and unorthodox practice, but it got results. So the fact that Kurt was thrown straight into intensive training was no surprise. Six months after being hired he actually saw his first patient under the supervision of Ray Bullcastle himself. Ray worked closely with every one that entered the practice to assure they gave the most comprehensive, best service they could to their clients. He often went above and beyond, and expected his employees to do so also. He payed them well, but expected the best from them. Kurt had been with the practice just two years, but already had a dedicated client base and often gained new clients who had heard about him from friends or family.
Mrs Anderson had heard of Kurt through a friend on the panel of horticulturists, and had been attending sessions for a couple of weeks. When Kurt saw the Anderson name on his appointment list he was somewhat taken aback. Everybody knew of the Andersons. The father was the head of an international medical supplies company started by his grandfather, they were obscenely wealthy and the fact that their youngest son committed suicide wast he talk of the town. However, considerable money must have changed hands as there was no mention of it in the papers. Not even so much as a small notice in the back with the rest of the obituaries. Kurt knew the minute Mrs Anderson had entered his office that this would be an interesting, trying and quite probably long term case. He hadn't of course banked on the other interesting developments.
He looked down his appointment list, noting he had one other appointment that day before he could finish up some paperwork and head home. His Dad and Carol were coming over for dinner, it had been nearly three weeks since Kurt had been able to make time to see his Dad and he was looking forward to it immensely. The buzzer from reception sounded and the receptionist, Anna's, voice rang through his office loud and clear.
"Mr Jameson has arrived Mr Hummel." Kurt pressed the little button before responding.
"I'm ready now, send him in please." Kurt slipped his glasses back onto his nose and settled in for the next appointment, pushing all thoughts of the Anderson's and his highly looked forward to evening from his mind as he focused on the tall, wiry man now entering his office.
Kurt settled himself into the corner of Rachel's obnoxiously pink sofa, accepting the lemonade she handed him.
"Now I know we don't have anything scheduled until next week, which means you either want to bitch or somethings up." She folded her legs beneath her delicately and surveyed his expression with a seriousness only Rachel could achieve.
"Okay, you're going to think I'm crazy, but... there's this family, their son committed suicide a little over a month ago. The mother asked me to help her clear the kids bedroom, she's not up to it really." He paused and Rachel remained silent, signalling with her hand for him to continue. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead.
"So I went today and the room is so full of personality, it seemed the kid was well liked by his peers, had a pretty active social life. Not much out of the norm. But there was this box hidden under a floor board filled with memories. Filled with letters and concert stubs all evidence of time spent with his boyfriend." He stopped again, still questioning his sanity at the whole situation, let alone the fact that he was about to fill his best friend in on it completely.
"Kurt, why's this got you so rattled?" Genuine concern rang true in Rachel's voice as she lent forward to touch his arm gently.
"It's just... well I heard someone talk to me, but no-one was there. I figured I'm just tired right? So I carried on and I heard it again. Then the next time I heard it the kid was right there, across the room."
"The kid that killed himself?" She probed gently, worry creasing her brow. He nodded and continued.
"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, I didn't even believe it myself at first - I'm not sure I believe it now. But... He asked me to read him a couple of the letters and, it seemed hard for him and he's hiding so much. I just, this is so bizarre Rachel, like I doubt even you would have thought anything this insane up back in high school. What the hell am I supposed to do?" He looked over at Rachel, hoping to hell she didn't have him committed right away, and if she did that she'd at least find him somewhere kind. She seemed to think for a moment, sipping her own lemonade thoughtfully.
"Well, assuming that this is real and not a figment of your clearly over active and attention starved imagination, I think you need to tread carefully. Obviously the kid has some issues, probably unresolved if he's still - um... here? I'm guessing he chose you to appear to for a reason. Maybe he trusts you, maybe he can't appear to his family, I take it none of them have said anything to you?" Her nose scrunched up adorably while she sought the right words for what was admittedly a very bizarre situation.
"No, I mean I probably wouldn't have believed it if they did. They seem quite... uh... straight laced. I've only met the mother, but the father seems more brusque, like he doesn't really want to accept, well anything. Just from what I've heard from the kid and his mother, he doesn't seem a very forgiving character." Rachel nodded, clearly processing the information. Kurt fingered the tassels on the edge of the yellow, star spangled throw that rested on the arm of the sofa. Relief flooded his body, knowing now that Rachel was definitely the right choice to speak to.
Neither of them spoke for a while, both running the information over in their heads. The light slowly dimmed as the sun set over Lima, Ohio. Rachel got up, switching on a couple of standing lamps, bathing the room in an artificial yellowy glow.
"Do you think he'll be there when you go back?" Her voice was soft, her eyes trained intently on Kurt's face.
"I don't know, he heard his Mom coming upstairs, told me not to show them the box and disappeared. He seemed kind of freaked."
"I'd say he will be then, assuming he can - I don't know if there are rules? If he is, just talk to him, there might be some reason he's here, something he has to do in order to move on. This is so strange. How old did you say he was?"
"19, held back a year in school, he would have gone to college this fall." She grimaced sympathetically.
"Okay, well I'd just talk to him, while you're sorting through his room. Try to figure out what it is that pushed him to the limit, maybe you'll find some closure for his family while you're at it? I'm sorry, I know it's not much help. "
"No, honestly, just talking about it is helping. I honestly thought I was going mad for a while."
"Hey, you still might be!" She pointed a jokey finger at him and stood, giggling.
"Come on, lets get some food, I'm thinking take out, I found this great new vegan place... I think even you'll like the Tofu." Kurt stood and followed her into the kitchen, shaking his head slightly. It was good to have a friend like Rachel sometimes.
***
Kurt was nearing the end of the hour with Mrs Anderson. She had seemed very closed up today, no matter what he did she just didn't want to talk today. She seemed tense and closed off, so much more so than he'd seen her before.
"Have you given any more thought to a joined session with both you and Mr Anderson?" She glanced up at him briefly before returning her gaze to the gloves that had been clutched primly in her hands since she entered the room nearly fifty minutes ago.
"No, he really wouldn't even consider the idea. He doesn't even like the idea that I attend. Thank you for your concern though Mr Hummel." She continued to run the gloves through her fingers repetitively. Kurt closed his eyes momentarily, shot down again.
"Okay, but if either of you changes your mind feel free to contact me. Have you gotten any further with Blaine's room?"
"Oh, no I haven't, I was actually wondering if you would be able to continue to help with that. Are you available at all this week?" Kurt raised an eyebrow and reached over to grab his diary from the glass desk, thumbing through it for available slots. He had a few in office sessions booked, and two out of office sessions, other than that he was free most afternoons. He penciled the Anderson's in, contemplating whether he'd see Blaine again, and finished up the session, bidding Mrs Anderson farewell and closing the door behind her, somewhat gratefully. That was definitely one of the least productive sessions he'd experienced in his short career.
He'd joined Bullcastle Psychiatric Services fresh out of College, having graduated High School early and earning multiple scholarships, he was just 22 when he graduated. Bullcastle was known as a very diverse and unorthodox practice, but it got results. So the fact that Kurt was thrown straight into intensive training was no surprise. Six months after being hired he actually saw his first patient under the supervision of Ray Bullcastle himself. Ray worked closely with every one that entered the practice to assure they gave the most comprehensive, best service they could to their clients. He often went above and beyond, and expected his employees to do so also. He payed them well, but expected the best from them. Kurt had been with the practice just two years, but already had a dedicated client base and often gained new clients who had heard about him from friends or family.
Mrs Anderson had heard of Kurt through a friend on the panel of horticulturists, and had been attending sessions for a couple of weeks. When Kurt saw the Anderson name on his appointment list he was somewhat taken aback. Everybody knew of the Andersons. The father was the head of an international medical supplies company started by his grandfather, they were obscenely wealthy and the fact that their youngest son committed suicide wast he talk of the town. However, considerable money must have changed hands as there was no mention of it in the papers. Not even so much as a small notice in the back with the rest of the obituaries. Kurt knew the minute Mrs Anderson had entered his office that this would be an interesting, trying and quite probably long term case. He hadn't of course banked on the other interesting developments.
He looked down his appointment list, noting he had one other appointment that day before he could finish up some paperwork and head home. His Dad and Carol were coming over for dinner, it had been nearly three weeks since Kurt had been able to make time to see his Dad and he was looking forward to it immensely. The buzzer from reception sounded and the receptionist, Anna's, voice rang through his office loud and clear.
"Mr Jameson has arrived Mr Hummel." Kurt pressed the little button before responding.
"I'm ready now, send him in please." Kurt slipped his glasses back onto his nose and settled in for the next appointment, pushing all thoughts of the Anderson's and his highly looked forward to evening from his mind as he focused on the tall, wiry man now entering his office.
"Now I know we don't have anything scheduled until next week, which means you either want to bitch or somethings up." She folded her legs beneath her delicately and surveyed his expression with a seriousness only Rachel could achieve.
"Okay, you're going to think I'm crazy, but... there's this family, their son committed suicide a little over a month ago. The mother asked me to help her clear the kids bedroom, she's not up to it really." He paused and Rachel remained silent, signalling with her hand for him to continue. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead.
"So I went today and the room is so full of personality, it seemed the kid was well liked by his peers, had a pretty active social life. Not much out of the norm. But there was this box hidden under a floor board filled with memories. Filled with letters and concert stubs all evidence of time spent with his boyfriend." He stopped again, still questioning his sanity at the whole situation, let alone the fact that he was about to fill his best friend in on it completely.
"Kurt, why's this got you so rattled?" Genuine concern rang true in Rachel's voice as she lent forward to touch his arm gently.
"It's just... well I heard someone talk to me, but no-one was there. I figured I'm just tired right? So I carried on and I heard it again. Then the next time I heard it the kid was right there, across the room."
"The kid that killed himself?" She probed gently, worry creasing her brow. He nodded and continued.
"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, I didn't even believe it myself at first - I'm not sure I believe it now. But... He asked me to read him a couple of the letters and, it seemed hard for him and he's hiding so much. I just, this is so bizarre Rachel, like I doubt even you would have thought anything this insane up back in high school. What the hell am I supposed to do?" He looked over at Rachel, hoping to hell she didn't have him committed right away, and if she did that she'd at least find him somewhere kind. She seemed to think for a moment, sipping her own lemonade thoughtfully.
"Well, assuming that this is real and not a figment of your clearly over active and attention starved imagination, I think you need to tread carefully. Obviously the kid has some issues, probably unresolved if he's still - um... here? I'm guessing he chose you to appear to for a reason. Maybe he trusts you, maybe he can't appear to his family, I take it none of them have said anything to you?" Her nose scrunched up adorably while she sought the right words for what was admittedly a very bizarre situation.
"No, I mean I probably wouldn't have believed it if they did. They seem quite... uh... straight laced. I've only met the mother, but the father seems more brusque, like he doesn't really want to accept, well anything. Just from what I've heard from the kid and his mother, he doesn't seem a very forgiving character." Rachel nodded, clearly processing the information. Kurt fingered the tassels on the edge of the yellow, star spangled throw that rested on the arm of the sofa. Relief flooded his body, knowing now that Rachel was definitely the right choice to speak to.
Neither of them spoke for a while, both running the information over in their heads. The light slowly dimmed as the sun set over Lima, Ohio. Rachel got up, switching on a couple of standing lamps, bathing the room in an artificial yellowy glow.
"Do you think he'll be there when you go back?" Her voice was soft, her eyes trained intently on Kurt's face.
"I don't know, he heard his Mom coming upstairs, told me not to show them the box and disappeared. He seemed kind of freaked."
"I'd say he will be then, assuming he can - I don't know if there are rules? If he is, just talk to him, there might be some reason he's here, something he has to do in order to move on. This is so strange. How old did you say he was?"
"19, held back a year in school, he would have gone to college this fall." She grimaced sympathetically.
"Okay, well I'd just talk to him, while you're sorting through his room. Try to figure out what it is that pushed him to the limit, maybe you'll find some closure for his family while you're at it? I'm sorry, I know it's not much help. "
"No, honestly, just talking about it is helping. I honestly thought I was going mad for a while."
"Hey, you still might be!" She pointed a jokey finger at him and stood, giggling.
"Come on, lets get some food, I'm thinking take out, I found this great new vegan place... I think even you'll like the Tofu." Kurt stood and followed her into the kitchen, shaking his head slightly. It was good to have a friend like Rachel sometimes.
***
Kurt was nearing the end of the hour with Mrs Anderson. She had seemed very closed up today, no matter what he did she just didn't want to talk today. She seemed tense and closed off, so much more so than he'd seen her before.
"Have you given any more thought to a joined session with both you and Mr Anderson?" She glanced up at him briefly before returning her gaze to the gloves that had been clutched primly in her hands since she entered the room nearly fifty minutes ago.
"No, he really wouldn't even consider the idea. He doesn't even like the idea that I attend. Thank you for your concern though Mr Hummel." She continued to run the gloves through her fingers repetitively. Kurt closed his eyes momentarily, shot down again.
"Okay, but if either of you changes your mind feel free to contact me. Have you gotten any further with Blaine's room?"
"Oh, no I haven't, I was actually wondering if you would be able to continue to help with that. Are you available at all this week?" Kurt raised an eyebrow and reached over to grab his diary from the glass desk, thumbing through it for available slots. He had a few in office sessions booked, and two out of office sessions, other than that he was free most afternoons. He penciled the Anderson's in, contemplating whether he'd see Blaine again, and finished up the session, bidding Mrs Anderson farewell and closing the door behind her, somewhat gratefully. That was definitely one of the least productive sessions he'd experienced in his short career.
He'd joined Bullcastle Psychiatric Services fresh out of College, having graduated High School early and earning multiple scholarships, he was just 22 when he graduated. Bullcastle was known as a very diverse and unorthodox practice, but it got results. So the fact that Kurt was thrown straight into intensive training was no surprise. Six months after being hired he actually saw his first patient under the supervision of Ray Bullcastle himself. Ray worked closely with every one that entered the practice to assure they gave the most comprehensive, best service they could to their clients. He often went above and beyond, and expected his employees to do so also. He payed them well, but expected the best from them. Kurt had been with the practice just two years, but already had a dedicated client base and often gained new clients who had heard about him from friends or family.
Mrs Anderson had heard of Kurt through a friend on the panel of horticulturists, and had been attending sessions for a couple of weeks. When Kurt saw the Anderson name on his appointment list he was somewhat taken aback. Everybody knew of the Andersons. The father was the head of an international medical supplies company started by his grandfather, they were obscenely wealthy and the fact that their youngest son committed suicide wast he talk of the town. However, considerable money must have changed hands as there was no mention of it in the papers. Not even so much as a small notice in the back with the rest of the obituaries. Kurt knew the minute Mrs Anderson had entered his office that this would be an interesting, trying and quite probably long term case. He hadn't of course banked on the other interesting developments.
He looked down his appointment list, noting he had one other appointment that day before he could finish up some paperwork and head home. His Dad and Carol were coming over for dinner, it had been nearly three weeks since Kurt had been able to make time to see his Dad and he was looking forward to it immensely. The buzzer from reception sounded and the receptionist, Anna's, voice rang through his office loud and clear.
"Mr Jameson has arrived Mr Hummel." Kurt pressed the little button before responding.
"I'm ready now, send him in please." Kurt slipped his glasses back onto his nose and settled in for the next appointment, pushing all thoughts of the Anderson's and his highly looked forward to evening from his mind as he focused on the tall, wiry man now entering his office.