sh•mg | oneshots

Welcome To Hell [2] ⛓

Prompt: Mitch is a patient in HELL. Scott's one of the best psychological counselors in the country. (Here's the part two... I'm sorry)

Setting: AU alternate personalities

Words: 1536
•••••

Two months later

"It's almost remarkable! He's made so much progress since we moved your visiting days up to twice a week. Do you mind if I request three?" Cherry's voice chirped through the phone.

"What days does he have shock therapy?" Scott asked, chopping up tomatoes to go in his omelette. His phone was wedged between his shoulder and ear.

"Only Thursdays. He used to have it Monday's as well, but, you're a miracle worker." She praised him.

"Oh, stop, You're too kind! And no, I would never deny time with Mitchell. He's a sweet boy." Scott scraped the tomatoes into the pan and looked for the spatula.

"Perfect! Can we have you tomorrow at 5? The usual?"

"Absolutely! And we're still a go for today's session, yes?" He located the spatula and brought it back to the pan, closing the omelette.

"Yes, I expect you'll be here in 30 minutes."

"Precisely. I'll see you then." He flipped the omelette and turned the fire off.

"Yes. Have a lovely morning, Scott."

"You as well!" He hung up the phone and set it on the counter.

Tuesdays had always been a smooth process since Mitch became Scott's priority. It's usually enough time between therapy for him to be talkative, and gives him something to look forward to after his Friday sessions. Their relationship has certainly grown into something unique; neither boy would be able to describe it. Of course, under the watchful eyes of others, Scott stayed professional. When it came to the private sessions, however, Mitch had a habit of sitting in Scott's lap while they talked. Sometimes when they hugged, Scott would hold on a little tighter. Nothing too serious, but enough to say that Mitch had taken a piece of Scott's heart without permission. He was still doing incredibly well keeping boundaries, which is impressive for someone with an overly-sexual client, and knew when to draw the line.

He knew he wouldn't be another Alex. He knew better than that.

•~•

"Mitch isn't doing so well today. I went in to check on him after I got off the phone with you, and, well," Cherry scanned her ID to open the door, "I'll let you do what you do."

We walked down the hallway in the recovery sector of the complex. Mitch had been moved because of his amazing progress, thanks to Scott.

They reached his door, and Scott scanned his ID to open.

"Mitch, darling. It's Tuesday." Cherry announced into the dimly lit room.

"Not feeling it." He grumbled from behind the door. Scott sighed, walking in.

"I got it." He smiled at Cherry, and she nodded and left.

Once the door closed, it was easy to see Mitch sprawled out on the floor. He no longer needed a chain or a padded room, but the corners were all still covered.

"Hey, Mitch." Scott kneeled down to Mitch's height, placing a hand on his shoulder. Mitch growled in reply.

"Mitch does not want to talk today. Mitch wants to die." Scott's eyes widened at this statement.