Interracial Imagines ◇ JB

therapist [jm];1

therapist  [jm];1
word count: 972
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yayy, my first jason mccann imagine

"So, how are you today, Mr. McCann?" You asked the man who sat across from you in a straitjacket. His eyes sharpen at you, warning you to speak again. To him.

You ignore his stare, seeing as you get that same one every time he is brought here.

He grunted at you, nudging his head around, low. His white hair falling towards his forehead, making him look more insane. More insane than he already was.

No one talked, but Jason looked back up meeting your eyes. Bags sat right up under his eyes, giving him that exhausted look. You still stare at him, wanting him to speak to you.

Jason's eyes didn't leave yours, and when he saw that, he strangely winked at you, his mouth parted a little.

A shiver ran up your spine, as you finally look away, and down your at papers. You had been seeing Jason McCann, because he had murdered his family. He had a little daughter, and a wife. In his sessions with you, he'd always refer to them as his 'girls'.

"So, Jason, what do you want to discuss today?" You asked, crossing your fingers on your desk. You lean forward a little, waiting for Jason to comply with you and talk.

Justin sent you a glare, as his dull eyes scan over your face, "I want to talk about you,"  Jason gruffs, looking forward to you, trying to see how'd you react. Would you share anything with him? Or just get all hesitant with Jason?

You sighed, and rolled your eyes, "Mr. McCa - " You were cut off by Jason, who was scooting closer off the edge of his chair, arms strapped around his body. He looked a bit uncomfortable, but he didn't bother it.

"Call me Jason," Jason told you, while his head leaned forward, as his tongue left his mouth to wet his chapped bottom lip. His eyes saw you as prey. A prey that he could eat; devour. You didn't notice it at first. . .

His eyes - gone of all colors - observed your every move when he came to see you. He had taken mental count of the types of things you did. Like bit your lip, whisper your words, and sometimes you'd click your heels when aggravated. Probably with him. . .

"Mr. McCann, this is a professional service, we can't talk about myself," You tell him, this was the fifth time you told him this. Jason just stared straight at you, itching to get to you, he so wanted to punish you for how you were treating him.

Again, it was quiet. Jason's emotionless eyes stay trained on you, as you look through papers on your desk. You didn't want to look back up to Jason, so you thought you'd bury yourself in work, until his session was over.

Jason saw that you were trying to ignore him. "(Y/N). . .why are you not married?" Jason's talking again, trying to pull you from your work. He lets a humorless smile take hold of his face when you glance back to him. He had got your attention.

"I don't know, Mr. McCann. . .Why don't you ask all the men in the world," You say, raising your brow at the insane man. The insane man that was infatuated with you. You heard a laugh come from Jason, his chuckle racking his body, still humorlessly.

"Honey, I'm still around," Jason sniffed the air around him, glancing back to the clock that you had hung on the wall behind you. 3:45, Jason only had fifteen minutes left to spend with you.

You mocked his laugh, and continued  to sort through paper. "Listen, Mr. McCann, we have a few minutes left that can be used to talk about something important," You admit to him, propping your chin up into your palm, looking at him with weary eyes. Jason McCann was the last crazy person who had you today.

Jason just sat there, reading you, slowly. He saw you as being uncomfortable, but he didn't care. "You are important," Jason tried telling you multiple times before, only once earning a small, simple smile. And, that was the first day you had met with Mr. McCann. You were naive then.

"I know, but I didn't murder my family," You counter at Jason. You instantly regret what you said, once you saw the pure, raw, hot anger boiling up in him. His color drained cheeks redden with the anger.

What did I do?  You thought to yourself, before watching Jason began to shake with anger. His eyes didn't meet yours, they stayed on the ground. A growl escaped Jason, and you knew that this session would end early. . .

On your desk, a red button sat. If you pressed the button, it would alert guards that the insane person with you were getting out of control. You did all you had to, you pressed the button.

Your breathing hitched, as you watched Jason tug against the jacket that stopped him from all movement and contact. His teeth showed out from his mouth. He was baring his teeth, trying to rip himself free.

"J-Jason, no!" You try to stop him from pulling and yanking. Jason doesn't seem to notice you, as he tries to escape.

Immediately, you hear the door of your office being pushed open and you hear the shuffling of feet. Just like that, about five guards enter the room, and grab Jason out of the chair and back to his cell. . .

His eyes meet your eyes while he was being taken away. They sharpened harder, and you knew, he going insane and you didn't want to see him again. . .

~   ~   ~
just a little something.
[ question: after this little incident, would you continue to see jason mccann? ]
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