Chapter nineteen.

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19

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19. Everybody's Waiting For You To Break Down.

tw: discussions
of suicide

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THREE WEEKS LATER

Tick, tick, tick, tick

Juneau wanted to rip that stupid clock off of the stupid, ugly tan wall. She was currently sitting on the scratchy blue couch of her therapist's office. After the events that occurred the day Bailey gave birth, Juneau had been ordered therapy sessions once a week. Originally, she thought she was off the hook. But then Bailey noticed how she could hardly keep a straight face whenever there was a loud bang, and had told the woman to go to therapy.

Of course, she refused. But when she was given an ultimatum, either therapy or no more surgeries, she relented. If Juneau had known that despite attending therapy she wouldn't be cleared for surgery three weeks after it happened, she would have just asked for a transfer to a different Seattle hospital.

       She didn't know what Bailey had told Meredith, but from her knowledge, the blonde wasn't in therapy. She had still been allowed in surgeries, but it had only been two in the three weeks since the bomb happened. Still, that was two more than Juneau, so to say she was jealous was an understatement. But Meredith also wasn't freaking out every time there was a loud sound. Lucky.

       "I don't want to give you an ultimatum, and I know you think this sucks," Bailey had said. Ding, ding, ding. She hit it right on the nose. "But, I want what's best for you."

That sentence was nothing new to Juneau. The same bullshit she had heard time and time again, only for it to be far from the truth. But, this time it was said with such genuine emotion, a rare sighting that nearly had Juneau's eyes flooding with tears. So, here she was. Alone with a stranger in an ugly and overly decorated room.

This was her third session with Dr. Jillian Jost, and so far there had been no major progress. Juneau hadn't been inside an operating room in three weeks. It was all scut, scut, scut. It was mainly Juneau's fault for not doing any talking in the first two sessions, but she wasn't going to admit that any time soon.

Jillian Jost seemed like a nice person. If she wasn't Juneau's mandated therapist and they'd met somewhere else like Joe's, they'd probably end up being friends. But, since her sole purpose in Juneau's life right now was to bring up past trauma, she didn't like her. At least not right now.

They seemed to have similar interests. On her desk sat another clock, only a small one in the shape of a cat. Juneau briefly wondered if they'd be able to come to an agreement where she could ditch the therapy sessions and have cat sessions instead.

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