Life After You - Evan Buckley [9-1-1]

Chapter Fifteen

Harper

"Good morning, Juan. How has your week been?" Harper asked, smiling from her chair.

Her office was the last one on the right. Originally it had been a storage room for the practice. However, after Harper had told Nikki she was comfortable practicing again, Nikki went straight to their boss Liz. Liz, Nikki, and Harper cleared the room out to be Harper's space. It was a good size room. Harper had a blue chair across from a black leather couch. In between her and the couch sat a glass coffee table with tissues for clients. On the left wall was her desk. The right wall had a large bay window that overlooked the city. Of course, Harper had also called Mike to tell him she was practicing again. He was very pleased.

She hated to admit it, but the move to LA had really changed her life. Buck had really changed her life.

"I've been struggling." Juan said, shifting in the couch so he sitting criss cross apple sauce.

Harper let her blue eyes trail over Jaun. She had been seeing him for around a month. She thought back to the first day she saw him. It was the night she met the 118. It was also the night she fully gave herself to Buck. A soft smile appeared on her lips at the memory. Juan was twenty-three. His mother fled Mexico with Juan when he was only seven. His father had been killed in a violent gang attack back in Mexico. Juan came to therapy with the presenting problem of grief over his father's loss.

"What's been going on?" Harper spoke, making eye contact with Juan.

Often, Juan made Harper feel uncomfortable. It was like his brown eyes were staring a hole through her body. He had also said things that made Harper shift in her chair before. It made Harper feel like everything he said had a hidden meaning.

"The nightmares are getting worse." Juan whispered, running his hand through his curly brown hair. "I can hear my dad beginning me to save him."

Juan had olive skin and today he was wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans that fit him loosely.

"What makes you think you could have saved him, Juan? You were only seven."

Juan's expression hardened. "My padre taught me how to be a man from a young age. If I was with him that night, I could have put up a good fight."

Juan harbored a lot of anger for the men who killed his father. He blamed himself often in session for not being there that night.

"Juan, when you think about that night, what feelings come up for you?"

Juan raised an eyebrow. "Rage." Is all he said.

"Have you ever been on medication to help control your anger?" Harper asked.

Juan shook his head.

"I still want to see you biweekly." Harper started, "I also want to refer you to a psychiatrist to get you evaluated for medication. Does that sound OK?"

Juan nodded. "Yeah, anything to help with these nightmares and anger."

Harper jotted down a reminder for the referral in his notes.

"Can I ask you something?" Juan asked.

Harper met his gaze; he had a smirk on his face. Harper's arm hairs stood up.

"Yeah Juan." She said.

"Have you ever lost someone close to you?" He asked.

Harper's breath caught in her throat. Self-disclosure always made her very uncomfortable. However, in this situation, she felt it would be OK. Maybe self-disclosure would help Juan with his feelings about his father's murderers.