Superheroes

Dynamic

Stiles feels nervous when Saturday finally rolls around. He's been focusing on getting his own inner thoughts worked out, and done a lot of self-care that he neglected as he pushed himself hard at Columbia and the research center. He knows, especially after talking things through with Derek, that he was misplacing his irritation at the Avengers on himself, and pushed further than he needed to.

But it's a new day, he and Rogers actually had a conversation where they didn't swear at each other angrily. Stiles counts that as a win, and a good omen for how the conversation with Barnes is going to go today. That is, if he hasn't just jinxed himself.

When he and Derek show up to the conference room, Stiles is happy to find only Rogers and Barnes inside. "Oh good. You're here, too. I need you to witness some paperwork."

Stiles drops his messenger bag on the large conference table and starts rifling through it.

"Paperwork?" Rogers asks, crossing his arms like he's ready to argue.

He blinks at the harsh tone, pauses in digging out said papers, and slowly turns to Rogers. This is not how he wanted to start the conversation. He really did jinx himself. "Okay, first of all, your overprotective ass needs to chill the fuck out."

Barnes snorts, then looks like he really didn't mean to let that noise out. What makes the situation even better is the absolutely betrayed look Rogers sends him. It's almost like looking in a mirror, with him and Scott on the other side. Stiles has to give himself a mental shake to refocus.

"Second, yes paperwork. We may not be operating out of a clinic or a center, but there is such a thing as informed consent." Stiles gets blank looks from both of them, and he wants to beat his head against the table. With a sigh, Stiles looks expectantly to Barnes. "You've never filled out an informed consent form? Filled out intake papers?"

Stiles doesn't think he'll get an answer, but Barnes shrugs. "Most of them had stuff for me to sign. I just signed it."

He gives in to his urges, dropping to the chair and letting his head fall to the table with a thunk. "Has no one ever explained the concept of reading before you sign?"

Derek gently places his hand between Stiles' head and the table before he can really hurt himself, which is a good thing since he's still trying to stave off a headache. Stiles gestures for everyone to sit, and he's not surprised that Rogers is the last one.

"Right. Let's go from the top," he tells them, pulling a mound of blank forms from his bag. They're his typical consent forms that he used at Cornell, and he even has a set from the PTSD Research Center. He already made the copies, and slides them to Rogers and Barnes. "Informed consent is pretty much exactly what it says. Basically, I'm going to walk you through exactly what it is I'm going to provide: assessments, treatments, counseling, consulting services, anything else that might come up, including any risks that may arise from said services. I then explain these to you so you know exactly what I'm going to be doing and why. If you don't agree, we don't move forward."

Rogers recovers first, leafing through the papers before glancing up at Stiles. "You're serious."

"Absolutely. All practicing psychologists are required to receive informed consent. I may not have my doctorate yet but when I work with clients, I hold myself to the same standards and code of ethics."

Barnes makes a face, but doesn't stop reading through the papers. "Why do you call them that?"

"Call who what?"

"Clients?" Barnes picks at the paperclip holding all the pages together. "Instead of patients."

Derek huffs and settles into his chair, used to hearing this rant. Stiles ignores him, because he is an adult, and rests his arms on the table in front of him. He tries to keep his posture open, his hands in plain view. "Because when people hear the word patient, they think of someone who needs a doctor, who needs to be fixed because they're broken. I call the individuals I work with clients, because that's what I do - I work with them. I don't fix them."