Kurt had found a little upturned piece of skin on the side of one of his fingernails and had spent the past ten minutes mercilessly chewing it, and the skin and nail by it, up.  Blaine had abandoned him with the psychiatrist in the apartment in favour of going to the gym.  Not that Blaine was much better company today.  He was sulking and quiet and more mousey than usual.  He hadn't said a word to Kurt all day even though he had taken the day off to ensure the locks got changed after the fun with Sebastian yesterday.  

“So Kurt, before you completely gnaw off that particular finger, maybe you could say more than two words to me at a time.”  She asked, leaning back on the loveseat, paper pad sitting on her lap untouched.

“Not likely.” Kurt retorted, inwardly grinning to himself for his purposely use of two words.

“I notice you're drinking coffee.  Haven't seen that before.”

Kurt side eyed the mug he had been refilling all morning.  He hadn't slept last night and had decided to partake in one of his abandoned habits - namely drinking strong coffee.  “Yup.”

“You look more tired today than you have in a long time.”

“Yup.”

“Do you think that has something to do with what happened yesterday?”

Kurt rolled his eyes toward her just so he could roll her eyes at her.  Really?  How did this woman get a bachelors degree let alone a doctorate?

“So yes.”  She shifted where she sat.  She was in Wes' usual place and no doubt that man had formed his own groove in the cushion there.  “Yet you seem quite calm and with it despite that.”

“Yup.”

“Hmm…”  She brought the pen in her fingers up to her mouth and tapped it the customary three times before dropping her hand again.  “Kurt, we're almost several months into your therapy and you've continued to refuse to talk with me.  I need to know if I need to find you a different therapist you will speak to or if this program is not a match for you.”

“I don't need to talk to anyone.” Kurt stiffened.  He needed the program.  He needed the support, whether or not he liked all of the elements of it.

“I'm going to have to disagree.  So tell me… what am I going to tell your social worker?”

“Fuck….”  Kurt's eyes sought out an escape, but of course there was none.  He could keep saying nothing but then he might lose the funding and then Blaine might dump him and he'd be back on the streets and everything would be for nothing… Kurt took in a deep breath, glanced over at the woman across from him and then gave her exactly what she wanted.

“You know, when I was still in school I wrote a whole paper on how I hated the damsel in distress character?  I fucking hate that type of character, always have.  I figured people should be able to save themselves and not always rely on someone else.  Yet here I am, saved once again by Prince Charming for the fuck-teenth time because I can't seem to get my own head out of my ass.”

The psychiatrist's usually dormant hand began to suddenly move on it's own, writing across the page even though her eyes were on Kurt.  “Prince Charming being Blaine.”

“Yes.  Fuck him.”  Kurt's eyes darted away from her, looking at the fibers of the carpet as he continued.  “I don't mean… well… I'm sick of him saving my ass time after time.”

“Because you don't want to be the damsel in distress?”

“Right.”

“Do you think the way you lived before Blaine came along was demonstrating your independence?”

Kurt shook his head, “No… I depended constantly on that asshole pimp and his dealers… on tricks… but I just wasn't sober enough to give a shit.”

“I think it's pretty fair to say that becoming independent is a real and achievable goal for you Kurt.”

“Fuck… I know… I just hate the being saved all the time part.  Whenever something bad happens I never fucking fight back.  I want to fight back… but I don't.  I've never hit anyone or anything like that no matter how much I've been hit…”

The writing stopped for a moment, “Never?”

Kurt shook his head and the writing began again.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don't know… I fucking… I freeze up.  It's like I'm locked inside myself or floating over myself watching myself get beat. I can see the bad things about to happen and I'm powerless to do a damned thing.”

“Have you always been like this Kurt?”

Kurt thought back… he had always been picked on, even well before high school.  “Yeah… I'd get shoved into lockers or thrown into dumpsters and I'd just let it happen… “

“It's not all bad…”  She murmured, finishing a thought on paper before she continued, “Many people in your position I've spoken to are more apt to fight back and they get hurt a lot worse because of it.  Often if you freeze up like you're describing it's because you've never learned how to stand up for yourself and it could also be made worse by the trauma you've experienced.  It's very likely you have post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Oh goody.  Does this mean more pills?”

She smirked, “Not unless it becomes debilitating.  I try to focus on coping strategies for the symptoms and if there's one thing I do know about you Kurt, it's that you're very good at coping.”

“Fuck… I have shitty karma… I've had to learn to cope.”

“Why do you feel you have bad karma Kurt?”

He sighed, “Of all the people Blaine has to be dating in this city of millions, it has to be one of the sleaziest guys I've ever met that I knew back in my whoring days….”

“Most people would call it a bad coincidence Kurt.  Not karma.”

“Oh no?”  Kurt felt challenged by the statement.  “How about this?  My dad got remarried in high school and the woman's son was one of my main bullies.”

“Two bad coincidences don't make for bad karma Kurt.”

“Well at what point is it bad karma then?”

“Well…”  She leaned back, tapping the end of the pen against her lips momentarily.  Three times, always three times.  “... The thing about karma is that it's a reciprocal thing.  You do good things, good things come unto you… you do bad things, bad things come unto you.”

“Well shit… I've got nothing but shit coming my way then.”

“You think you've only done bad things Kurt?”

“Well I can't think of anything good.”

She sighed, leaned forward, and looked at Kurt directly in the eye.  The contact made him uncomfortable and he squirmed in place, trying to hold contact with her out of pride, but definitely not liking it.

“Kurt.  You are doing good things.  Maybe you're not Mother Teresa, but you're kicking your cocaine habit, getting off the streets, trying to improve your life.  Sometimes bad things happen and it's not your fault.  You didn't bring Sebastian's attack on you yesterday on yourself.  That was all Sebastian.”

Kurt shrugged up his shoulders and looked away, “But I screwed up Blaine's relationship.”

“No.  That was still Sebastian.  He made the choice to hurt someone Blaine clearly cares about and, based on the information I got about your prior relationship with Sebastian, he was cheating on Blaine anyhow.  It's honorable that you wanted to protect Blaine from the problems his boyfriend had, but that's not your job.”

“Blaine's so…. innocent though.”

“He's also a grown man Kurt.”

As if on cue, the door to the apartment opened and both Kurt and his psychiatrist looked back at the sweaty mess of Blaine that entered.  “Sorry… they needed to close the gym for awhile to replace some lights…. I'll just go shower.”  Kurt let his eyes linger on Blaine as the other man walked off down the hall.  So rarely did Blaine dress down as much as he did when he was going to the gym and the shorts and tank top hugged him well around the finely toned muscles he insisted on hiding.  This was the one time that Blaine ever screamed of masculinity and he was so obviously shy about it.

“You like him…” Came a small whisper.

Kurt gave his trademark shrug again and looked back, “He's not bad when he's not dressed like a total grandpa.”

“It's okay to like him Kurt.”

“No… it's not… but thanks anyhow.”

“Why don't you think it's not okay?”

Kurt sighed, waiting until he heard the shower going to respond, “Because - he's Prince Charming remember?  Money and smarts and looks and could probably outdo Mother Teresa with his kindness.  I'm reliant on the government and have a history of idiocy and am covered in scars and burns and whatever else… and I have absolutely nothing to offer anyone, let alone him.”

“You're right Kurt.  Until you learn how to accept yourself, you don't have anything to offer… “

“Oh shit… the self esteem talk?  Really?”

“Yes.  Really.  When I look at you I don't see all the problems you let circle around you like a cloud of doom… I see a man who made some poor choices and is letting those choices he made in the past dictate who he is forever.”

“Well don't you just wax poetic so nicely.” Kurt sneered, slumping into the seat further down.

“You have plenty of good things to say about Blaine, but do you think he doesn't have his own issues and things he doesn't like about himself?”

Kurt shrugged.

“Tell me something you like about yourself Kurt.”

Kurt stared at the cushion beside him as his mind went blank.  

“It can be anything.  Ridiculous even.  For example, I like the way my hair coils around my finger when I twirl it.”

God, he couldn't believe he was actually going along with this.

“I like how soft the back of my hands are….”

He couldn't see it, but the way she shuffled in place told Kurt she was pleased with his effort - or the fact he was talking at all.  “Really?  Do you use lotion?”

He started to shake his head and then stopped, “Well… not anymore… couldn't afford it when I came to New York… but before… yes… I had a whole skin care regiment at one point.”

“Skin care was important to you…”

“Well… yah… I didn't want to become all leathery and wrinkled as I got older…”

“Do you think you'll pick it up again?  The regiment?”

Kurt shook his head, “I don't see the point.”

“Why not?”

“Well… I mean… I'm still soft after not doing anything for a long time now… and up until recently I had just kind of accepted that I'd die young anyhow and wouldn't have to worry about getting older.”

“But that's changed.”

Kurt groaned and tipped his head back into the couch.  She was dragging it all out of him.  The harpy.  “Well obviously… but I still don't see the point.”

“What about because you just admitted that you might not die young after all and because you want to keep your skin looking nice for when you are ready for a relationship?”

Kurt sighed, “No one dates ex-whores lady…”

“You don't know that.”

“Would you?”

Kurt expected her to backtrack on her works or come up with a flustered response, but instead she remained cool.  “I have actually.”

He swallowed, peeking over nervously, “But it didn't last…”

“Only because she wanted to move back to Mexico to be with her family.”

Kurt paled slightly.  She had beaten him on this particular round.

“You thought I'd say no?  Why Kurt?”

“Because… everyone thinks we're used up or loose or that we can't be trusted to be monogamous… or… I don't know… people don't see us as people… we're sub human.”

“Some people might Kurt… I can't deny that…. but those aren't the kind of people you should waste your time with anyhow.”

He tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch and looked over at the clock.  “Your time is up.”

“It is.  Thanks for talking with me today Kurt.”  She tucked her notebook into the oversized purse sitting on the floor and stood up.  “I enjoyed it.”

“That's good considering you get paid to.”

She smirked a little, “Just because you're getting paid to do something, doesn't mean you always enjoy it though.  I think you understand that well enough.”

“Don't I though.”  He rolled his eyes.