It Doesn't Do Well to Dream

Chapter 32

Dr. Henson's office felt... familiar. Peyton shifted on her feet as she looked around the room and took the space in. He had a desk on the left side of the room with a chunky computer on top. Diplomas and certificates hung on the wall behind it, along with a floor-to-ceiling bookcase full of psychology texts. On the other side of the room were a couple small couches and a coffee table over an old rug. The wall near the couches had more personable, quirky art. There was a framed painting of a cat jumping at a butterfly, another of a picture of the night sky with the Milky Way galaxy being reflected in a pool of water below, and another poster of some jungle foliage. It was eclectic and didn't match, but it somehow made sense for him. Peyton wasn't sure why she assumed that.

Lex stood next to her while she acclimated and Peyton forced herself to focus. Dr. Henson stood next to the window to the left of his desk and watched her take in the room with just as much interest as she viewed it.

He was a small, older man, with a mostly white beard and round glasses. His khaki pants and sweater vest gave him a dorky professor vibe that exuded a nonthreatening air.

"I appreciate you coming by, Peyton," Dr. Henson said in greeting.

"It sounds like you didn't leave much of an option to reject the invitation," said Lex on her behalf.

Peyton gave his hand a squeeze in reassurance and took a step forward.

"I understand your curiosity, doctor," she said, "and I can appreciate it. But I have to warn you that I won't be bullied. I will be leaving today with my own records."

Dr. Henson appeared to be, if anything, an attentive listener. At this point Peyton was unfazed by people staring at her like she was a talking dog when they met her and she didn't take his open evaluation personally.

"Of course," he agreed after a moment. "But I must admit that I was hoping to speak with you. Would you be amenable to that?"

They'd shown up. Peyton already knew that's what his goal was when she agreed to come, and this may be one of the few opportunities to actually try and figure out what could have brought her here in the first place. And figuring out a way home was a goal that she'd been too lax in fully taking on.

"We can talk."

His demeanor lightened and he gestured towards the couches as he shuffled over to them himself. There were files sat out on the coffee table, her files, and Peyton eyed them as she sat down. Lex sat down next to her, further from Dr. Henson so that they could more easily talk and she gave him an appreciative smile before she refocused.

Dr. Henson leaned back and propped an ankle over his knee as he studied her.

"It is good to see you again. I must admit that I found myself curious over the past couple years if your state ever improved."

"It has," Peyton replied evenly. He was at least addressing her and not directing his statements toward Lex, which was still more than her own mother most of the time. "I agreed to come here, Dr. Henson, because I hoped you might have some insight into..." She didn't exactly know how to classify what was wrong with her. "My situation," she settled on. "I understand that we've had a few... sessions before."

"Do you not remember our previous meetings?" His fingers tapped against his leg like he wished he had a pen in his hand.

Peyton swallowed with a wince. It felt strange to speak this openly about what she experienced, even if he'd seen her before. But she would likely have to give him something to go off of.

"Not right now," she admitted stiltedly. "But sometimes I do get....memories."

She looked to Lex, uneasily, in a bid for reassurance of her own, and he gave her a small nod as he put his arm over her shoulder. Peyton let out a breath and refaced the doctor.