(Content warning: abuse, suicidal thoughts, selfharm, death, abandonment, pretty much the normal for these.)
(Based kind of off of Karma by AJR)
Tommy couldn't believe that Sam managed to drag him here to this plastic chair across from Puffy.
He was wearing a red and white hoodie, unlike most days, and was wearing black sweats. Hair disheveled, his face didn't look much better with bruises, a crooked nose, and bags under tired and bloodshot eyes. It was unusual to see Tommy in such a state of grief or exhaustion that it made Puffy almost double take as she looked up from the clipboard in her lap.
Her face was clear and calm, no trace of stress or tension was shown as she jotted down notes. She wore a white button up with a red jacket over top, black jeans and boots to match. Well, the boots were laying against her chair as she lounged with her legs over the arm.
"So, why are you here today, Tommy?" She asked after a minute of writing. The blond teen just sighed and sat back, looking at the ceiling.
"Because Sam forced Phil into forcing me to come here." It was true, he had been in the other room and heard the yelling as Sam tried to convince Phil that sending Tommy to therapy would be a good idea. After thirty minutes, they both walked into the room with a look of agreement on both of their faces as they told Tommy that he had to go to therapy. Sam would have done it on his own but since Phil was still technically Tommy's legal guardian, it would be easier.
"Alright then, why do you think they put you into therapy?" Tommy rolled his eyes (he hated questions about his life) before looking back at Puffy.
"I don't know, maybe because they are jerks? I probably did something wrong again." Puffy raised an eyebrow at that.
"Do you think this is some sort of punishment?" Tommy pursed his lips and crossed his arms. "You are going to need to elaborate. Therapy doesn't have to be punishment if you make it."
"I guess it does feel like a punishment, yes." Puffy moved her arms as a gesture to make him explain. "Then it means people have to think about me more than they do and have to pretend like they care. They don't need to but now it's like an obligation, like a chore. I don't want to be a chore to anyone. Plus, people in therapy, they have problems, but I don't. My mind is perfect and fine just the way it is!" Tommy shouted the last bit but was surprised to see Puffy still laid back.
"Therapy isn't for the weak and broken, Tommy. Everyone should be in therapy in order to have a balanced life but it doesn't always work out. Everyone needs support and thats what therapy can be. Perfectly fine people could still need therapy to vent about work or to stop bad habits, its different for everyone." Puffy sat up and placed the clipboard down on the arm of the couch. "Now tell me, why do you think you need therapy? Any problems with other people? Ever have any fears, stresses? Anything that would seem normal?"
Tommy slouched into the chair, messing with his hoodie strings.
"I guess with stressing about people leaving?" Puffy seemed to be pleased as she scooted foreward in her chair and nodded her head.
"Explain."
"W-well," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I guess it started with my father and older brother abandoning my other older brother and me at a young age. I was only a toddler when it happened so I rarely remember Phil besides the day he left for one of his many trips. Wil might have been about eleven? He was left with me and had to take care of me until I was eight years old."
"Phil came back with Techno and I had never seen Wil so mad before. Fundy was only five, I think? He is my nephew and was Wilby's son. We left a year later for here. It was then that there was a long string of abandonment." Tommy rubbed his eyes before sighing again. "It got worse around exile, I was all alone besides D-Dream and I became attatched. He didn't like how clingy I got so he left me for a few days once. He would beat me with a stick if I got too close afterwards."
