She Will Always Hate Me

xv: like a prince would to a princess

WARNING:
This story deals with some heavy topics i.e. mental health, depression, mentions of suicide, physical abuse, as well as eating disorders. Please read at your own risk.

It was an early Saturday morning near the end of May, and instead of being at home with his family like he usually was, Preston Southeast found himself in a meeting with his boss; Klara Vogt. He always dreaded going to meetings with her considering her reputation.

The protégé of the previous boss, whom Preston had never met and he was very grateful for that, all things considered. She was tough as nails, a no nonsense kind of woman. If Preston was being completely honest, she struck him as more of a business woman than a top-notch psychiatrist, but he couldn't judge her for that.

What he could judge her for was her insistent pushing on the patients. She always seemed to want patients 'cured' as fast as possible, and never seemed to take no for an answer. So, that being considered, Preston was almost certain he knew what this impromptu meeting was going to be about.

When Dr. Vogt took her seat at the head of the table, Preston racked his brain in attempts to make his case to her. He had a solid one; Dipper was a fragile boy who needed gentle coaxing to get him to speak. Twisting his arm, so to speak, was not the way to go. That would bungle things, and Preston didn't want the boy to have to go through more when, clearly, he had gone through enough.

"Dr. Vogt," Preston attempted.

"Dr. Southeast, I think you know as to why I have scheduled such a meeting this morning." Dr. Vogt took a long sip from her teacup —a present from her predecessor— before staring him down with a single, blank look.

"Yes, I can assume." Preston glanced down at the table. He had brought Dipper's file and any notes he had made on the case. "It's about the boy, Dipper."

Dr. Vogt rose from her seat and paced the floor behind her chair. "As you know, this facility was brought up from the ground by my predecessor, he and I took this clinic and brought it from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. We, out of the entire nation, have the highest rate of check-outs."

"Yes, but, ah," Preston fiddled with his tie. "But these sort of things take time. Problems cannot just be solved within two weeks."

"It has been over a month since we've placed the boy into your care, and your reports show no progress." Dr. Vogt continued, standing facing the window, her back toward Preston. "Progress that was very much required."

"Yes, but this case is different." Preston persisted. "The boy —Dipper— he isn't a talker. He hasn't shown any progress simply because he believes there is no reason to change."

"And have you given him a reason to change?" She cocked a brow, turning on her heel and continued pacing. "A more, effective, coercion?"

Preston sat back in his chair, "you cannot coerce someone into changing their behavior if they see nothing wrong with it. As I've stated, this one is taking time because the patient has loads of trauma from his childhood. I am certain that it stems from childhood."

Dr. Vogt paused in her pacing and fixed a cold, dead-eyed glare on Preston. "Oh? So it seems you have made some progress after all."

"What? No, it's not so much as progress as it is a theory." Preston rubbed the back of his neck, feeling entirely too warm.

"Most forms of progress stem from simple theories, doctor." She grinned lightly, but there was something glinting there that Preston did not like. "Would you care to explain what this theory of yours is?"

Preston sighed and flipped open his notepad. Clearing his throat, he began. "Well, what I've come to realize is that he gets most defensive around the area of his family. Highly suggesting that whatever happened, whatever made him this way, came from way before he showed up at the orphanage."