(TW: mentions of suicide, depression, etc.) A summary if you don't want to read this chapter: Rigel visits a psychiatrist, gets diagnosed with depression a few days later, and refuses help.
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—IT WAS NOW THE NEXT DAY. Rigel didn't even try sleeping, scared that his nightmares would come back, so he just spent the night reading and writing as much as he could.
"Here." said Remus, who just walked into the living room, giving his son a cup of tea.
Rigel gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Rem."
The man nodded, sitting down in front of him. "I was thinking we should go to the psychiatrist today."
Rigel took a sip of the tea, not replying.
"Ri?"
"I don't want to go, Rem." admitted Rigel, his hands tightening around the cup of tea. "I'm fine."
"I know you are. It's only to make sure, Ri. Put an ease to our worries in the very least."
Rigel sighed and reluctantly said, "Fine."
••
"What the fuck am I going to say if he starts talking about my parents?" asked Rigel, looking at the office.
"Well.."
"Tell them that they've been murdered by an evil dark lord, and now I've been raised by their bestfriends?"
"Not quite." Remus shook his head fondly.
••
"—and any symptoms?" The psychiatrist asked, looking at Rigel.
Rigel had now been alone with the man for about an hour, talking about almost everything with a few lies here and there, trying to make sure not to reveal anything about the magical world, while Remus was waiting outside.
"Symptoms?" asked Rigel, looking confused.
"What has changed over the past few days?"
"Oh.. well, I sometimes lose motivation, I guess."
"Do you lash out unexpectedly?"
"..yes."
The psychiatrist hummed and ticked something on the paper he was holding.
Rigel tried not to let his curiosity show.
"Any suicidal thoughts?"
"Heck no." Rigel immediately shook his head.
"And have you ever pushed people away?"
Rigel immediately knew the answer. Knowing not to lie, he sighed and nodded. "Yes."
"How long have you done that?"
"Since I was... I dunno? 7?" Rigel shrugged, not knowing what the big deal was.
Trying not to let his shock show, the psychiatrist nodded. "And how long have you had the other symptoms we've talked about?"
"It comes and goes. It started to show more regularly a few months ago, I guess."
A few more minutes passed by. The psychiatrist stood up, "Well, you're ready to go, Mr. Black. You'll be needed to come back in a few days."
••
"So? How was it?" asked Remus as soon as they apparated home.
"I honestly don't know whether it was good or not." Rigel sighed. "I'm going to go take a nap."
Remus nodded, watching as his son rushed away.
"How is he?" asked a voice behind him, making him turn around.
"Well, it's just the start." Remus said. "You care about him, don't you, Tom?"
"Of course." shrugged Tom as if it was obvious.
"No, I mean— you care about him." Remus knowingly said.
Tom's eyes widened. "No— of course not!" He said, while Remus merely raised an eyebrow. "Maybe... Yes."
Remus grinned, "I knew it."
••
The next few days passed by in a blur with visiting the psychiatrist a few more times.
Today was the last day.. hopefully.
Rigel wanted Remus to be there with him, because he felt like it would be needed.
He couldn't even stop his fidgeting as the psychiatrist went over his notes.
"Well, Mr. Black..." The psychiatrist finally said, "It seems you have major depression."
Rigel froze, along with Remus.
"Wha— what?"
"I'm diagnosing you with major depression, Mr. Black. The signs have been clear. I have a suspicion that this has been going on for more than we thought, which is why your symptoms have started to show more often. I recommend seeing a therapist or if you don't want that, you can take these pills— antidepressants. However, it is not as good as seeing a therapist—"
Rigel tuned him out, feeling like the world was spinning.
It was all happening way too fast.
Depressed? Rigel Black— depressed?
There was absolutely no way he was depressed. He had everything he wanted, after all. A loving family, a home, a nice life.. right?
That means he shouldn't be depressed, right?
That means he has no reason to be depressed, right?
Wrong.
••
"Rigel—!" Remus sighed sadly as Rigel immediately rushed to his room.
"So?" asked Sirius, frowning at his husband's sad face.
"...It's not my story to tell, Pads. But we failed."
Sirius' face fell, connecting the dots. "He's depressed?" He whispered.
Remus pursed his lips, giving Sirius the answer.
"We failed." Sirius repeated, tears welling up in his eyes.
••
Rigel harshly shut his door, and laid down on his bed, rubbing his face anxiously.
He could feel himself shaking, but didn't do anything to stop it other than making it worse by thinking about what he had just found out a few minutes ago.
Depression? Him? Absolutely not.
He had no reason to be depressed, goddamnit!
The door opening caught his attention.
Tom frowned worriedly, walking in the room. "Rigel? What happened?"
"Get out." Rigel snarled. "Now."
"Rigel—"
"I said— get out."
Tom nodded, but put something on Rigel's bed before walking out of the room.
When the door snapped shut, Rigel looked at what Tom had put down.
A few parchments, a quill, and a bottle of ink.
Writing.
Rigel looked at the closed door, then looked back at the stuff. He stood up and started writing.. everything.
