Therapy - A Bastille AU

1 - Care.

One year.

One year later, and Daniel Campbell Smith was still feeling the same.
One year later, and his friends were still trying to convince him he had everything to live for.

Although his life was supposed to be getting back on track, he didn't feel it at all. After his failed attempt one year previously, he had a constant feeling of guilt and anger at himself which stung like a nettle: stuck like a leech. He was admitted for frequent after-school counselling and care at Pine Walk Hospital.

'Care.' Dan had scoffed at the word that was offered to him when he first arrived. Nobody cared. Caring was not something people did. They could lie, and pretend, but never care.

One exceptionally rainy Tuesday evening, he was sat silently with his mum in the waiting room, shamelessly observing - or, rather, obviously staring at - the people sat there too, waiting for their counselling session. Boredom was beginning to irk him, his foot impatiently tapping on the polished, white floor.

He had developed a serious distaste towards hospitals. Ever since his best friend, Kyle, had nearly died in one with Dan by his side, he was traumatised, and these weekly visits didn't help. Tauntingly clean white walls, annoyingly patronising receptionists... how could anyone find any comfort in these places?

However, then, something caught his attention. A new kid.

This surprised Dan. Usually, he only saw the same people, the regular visitors who were in the same position as Dan. Except, they all seemed to be feeling gradually better, unlike Dan.

He took in her features, and subconsciously found himself running a finger lightly over his lips. When he noticed, he instantly forced his hand down. That was no way to think about a girl he didn't know...

Despite his efforts, he still couldn't help but admire her. She had mousy brown curls finishing softly at her shoulders, and heavenly blue-grey eyes. He thought he could see the faint appearance of a dimple in her left cheek, also focusing his eyes on her sharp cheekbones. I bet they could slice wood, Dan thought instinctively, before attempting to push the thought out of his mind. His eyes then travelled down to her figure. She was of a tall frame, and... looked severely underweight. Her legs looked frail, as though they could snap, and a slight wave of pity washed over him. Maybe her problem was so bad that she lost her appetite. Or maybe her appetite was the problem...?

"Dan, please," his therapist, Molly, poked her head around the door and smiled gently. He couldn't help but give a weak smile back, in politeness. Trying to stifle an exhausted yawn, he stumbled over to the door to follow her. Just before the door closed, he looked back out to the waiting room, and his eyes made contact with the girl, before it slammed shut, separating them.