Jimmy (Solidarity) Oneshots because he is my favorite character

Bye? I don't want to say bye.

Jimmy picked at the silicone fidget toy, pulling parts off and letting it fall onto his lap. Overtime, there were little white pieces littered all over his shorts. He didn't necessarily care.

"Well, since you don't want to do treatment today, we will have to wait until next time. How about we cut today's appointment here and I can let the front desk know not to completely charge?"

He looked up quickly, eyes snapping to meet his therapist's light eyes. His throat clenched and his mind processed it.

"Wait-" he paused, hearing the unwanted panic in his own voice. His voice is usually monotoned and controlled except for anger or kindness. Never panic. Never fear.

"Yes?" She asked, already in her position to stand.

He couldn't speak, he couldn't say a word. There was so much he wanted to say but it couldn't make it past the bubble in his throat. He wanted to beg her for more time, to talk about his identity issues and lack of self worth. About his constant cycle of depression that attacked him daily or even just simply venting about current frustrations. But he couldn't get a word out, like usual.

She paused and stared for a second. "Are you worried that you can't end this session early? That money is the issue?"

He shook his head quickly. It wasn't a concern right now. It was always in the back of his head but he had ended an appointment early before, it wasn't a problem.

"Would it cause issues? Like for your parents?"

"I don't think it would," he tried to keep the doubt out of his voice but she didn't seem to notice anyways.

"Do you not want to end the appointment now?"

He paused. It was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to continue, he wanted advice or to vent. But the words were stuck in his throat.

"Do you want more time?"

"Maybe," he muttered softly, squeezing the cat stress toy. He fiddled with the cat's ears.

"Okay," she looked confused and unsure.

Jimmy listened as she asked questions and gave basic answers. He didn't know why but he clammed up, unable to explain what he was thinking. She was left to ask and guess until she hit the nail on the head.

"I am getting a sense that all this has been growing into making your depressive feelings grow, is that correct?"

Jimmy felt his heart stutter. She always got it right without getting any help from him. She could be a detective. "I guess-" he paused for a second, he couldn't lie like this, "yes," he whispered softly. He could feel the tears starting with the way his throat tightened even more. He felt like he was suffocating.

"How big is this sadness in you?" Jimmy was afraid the cat would pop so he forcefully unclenched his hands.

"I don't know," he said after a minute.

She nodded her head. "I feel that it is a big part of you, yes?"

Tears burned his eyes. He wanted to scratch them out of his head. "Yes."

His hands shook as she started talking more and getting more and more right. He could feel himself dissociating and slipping. It was hard to stay in control and contribute.

"Are you able to express your emotions or feelings of sadness?"

He shook his head, it wasn't something that his family did. He had seen his dad cry twice, his mom four times and Lizzie less than ten times. He was even less so, they never saw him crying but they sure did hear it through the walls or in phone calls. He promised himself he wouldn't cry after showing that weakness while in school.

Her eyes lit up like the dots connected themselves for her. "I am guessing it isn't something your family does, like your parents and Lizzie." She waited for the nod of Jimmy's head before sighing. "Are you able to display these emotions anywhere?"

Jimmy thought for a second. "In the dorms," he begrudgingly muttered. Now that he was at home, he was cautious to cry. In the dorms, he cried almost weekly in the darkness of his room. One time he ran from the dorms in the middle of the night when he saw old pictures. He didn't have a coat and wore only sandals in the snow. He was so sure he was going to jump from the parking garage that night, tears freezing on his cheeks.

He returned back to the room, not looking his roommate in the eyes.

"In the shower?"

"Just alone," he snorted in self hatred. It was a weakness.

She nodded her head in understanding. "I have a feeling you don't share a lot of things here either. Is that right?"

Jimmy faltered. It was the truth, when he first started therapy, he was in a dark time in his life yet all he used his sessions for was discussing procrastination. He never was able to get to talking about his traumas or feelings out of fear. He was scared she would say something or he would be seen as weak. There was only one time when Jimmy cried in all 7 years he had been in therapy. There had been times where he was close but he never let himself. It physically pained him to keep it down but he wouldn't let himself.

"Yes," he answered finally.

"Do you at least feel safe here to share?"

He didn't but he nodded all the same. He didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"I want you to start letting your emotions go, let them fester and let yourself feel them. I also want you to talk about them."

Jimmy stiffened. It felt like 'homework' as she called it but this was scarier than any other time.

"You can start of easy just using 'I feel' statements. It can be about anything like 'I feel that it is a nice day outside' or 'I feel that you should have a snack' or something like that. You don't need to suffer with it."

Jimmy nodded his head. He could do that. He could do simple statements and incorporate it in daily life.

Eventually, the actual time for the appointment to end came up and Jimmy was almost out of his seat before she was. He felt too exhausted and tired. He just wanted to go home.

"I'll see you next time," she said waving as he walked away from the office.

He felt like bawling his eyes out in the parking lot or screaming but somehow, he felt better than he had in years.

Stepping into the sunshine, the knot from his throat unraveled and he was finally able to breathe.

'I feel... good.'

(Okay this might just be a vent about my therapy appointment. It was the first time I had ever felt actually panicked about it before and it scared me. It reminded me a lot of Karma by AJR where the character in the song is struggling in therapy and doesn't want the session to end. I FEEL unsure about posting this lol but heres goes. She suggests i write anyways.)