The Principal's Office
“What if the... other guy ... comes out while I'm under?” Bruce whispered.
Tony was with him in the waiting room. Even though he wasn't supposed to go in this time, Bruce had asked him to drive him to the therapist's office and wait for him there, and Tony wasn't about to say no to his adorable friend in need.
“Won't happen,” he answered. “You'll be totally relaxed.”
“Still... I don't like this, Tony. I'm kind of freaking out right now.”
Just then the office door opened and Dr. Goldstein stepped out. “Come on in, Bruce.”
To Tony's surprise, Bruce grabbed his arm and pulled him up with him and toward the door. “He's coming with me.” Then, seeing that Dr. Goldstein was about to refuse, he added, “Just for the hypnosis.”
The doctor nodded but gave Tony a pointed look. “As long as you don't distract him,” he warned. “That means no pen clicking, Tony.”
It took some coaxing to get Bruce relaxed enough to take off his coat and shoes, and lie down on the couch. He looked very stiff and uncomfortable.
Dr. Goldstein began by having him focus his eyes on a spot of light projected on the ceiling. He spoke in a slow, dreamy voice that made Tony feel like he might fall asleep himself. He looked at Bruce, wondering if it was working. Well, he didn't look so uptight anymore, but not sleepy either. He just looked bored.
“You can feel your whole body relaxing...”
He looked cute over there on the couch, his toes wiggling a bit in his white athletic socks – the kind of socks Tony would only wear with gym gear, never with a collared shirt and khakis, like Bruce was. It may not have been fashionable, but it was endearing, sweet. He had an urge to go over there and get on top of him on the couch, push his fingers through those curls...
He snapped out of his daydream when he saw Bruce's eyes droop, droop, and close. Tony was stunned – the guy was out cold, from tense to totally relaxed in minutes.
“I want you to go back,” the doctor was saying, “all the way back to the house where you grew up. Remaining very relaxed, I want you to stand outside that house and look at it. Can you see it?”
“Yeah.” His voice sounded far away, like he had really gone somewhere else.
“Tell me what it looks like.”
“Peach stucco with a brown roof. Medium sized. It looks like all the other houses on the block, except the garage door is all banged up from when my dad crashed into it one time. There's a small yard in front, and a cement walkway.”
“Okay, Bruce, now I want you to go inside the house and tell me what it looks like in there.”
There was silence. Tony saw Bruce's face twitch and tighten. His hands, folded on his stomach, tightened also and he began twisting his fingers together.
“Are you inside the house, Bruce?” asked Dr. Goldstein.
“No. No, I don't want to go in there.” He pressed his lips together and began to whimper.
“What are you feeling right now?”
“I'm scared. I don't want to!” He shook his head vigorously, eyes still closed.
“Bruce, listen to me. You're safe now. There's nothing to be scared of. Now, I want you to go to a time when you were inside that house.”
“Please, don't make me go in there!”
Tony gripped the arms of his chair, knowing he wasn't supposed to interrupt the session. But Bruce started whimpering again, and he couldn't hold back any longer.
“What's going on, Jerome?” he asked, panicked. “Why is he so upset?”
“That's what we're trying to find out.”
“No!” Tony jumped up from his chair. He couldn't let this go on. There was that protective feeling again. “He doesn't want to remember that.” He lifted Bruce's feet up, half hoping it would wake him – it didn't – and sat down on the couch, resting his friend's feet on his lap. He pushed one pant leg up and examined the skin, just in case, pushing back the dark hairs with his hand. No green. “Quit asking him to go in the house, Jerome, or I swear I'll drag him out of here still under your voodoo spell if I have to.”
“Okay,” Dr. Goldstein relented.
That's right. Fucker knows I'm the one paying for the sessions, Tony thought, furious that the doctor had pushed his buddy so far.
“Perhaps we should start with something lighter. Bruce, tell me what school was like for you.”
Bruce stopped whimpering and Tony, gently rubbing the legs draped on his lap, felt the tense body relax once more.
“I like school,” Bruce started happily. “I'm good at it, smart. But the other boys pick on me because I'm a nerd and no good at sports.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Dr. Goldstein nodded and jotted something down on a pad of paper. “Did you ever stand up to the bullies?”
He smiled, looking like he was smiling in a dream. “Yeah, one time.”
“Go to that time, and tell me about it.”
There was a pause, then Bruce began slowly, “I'm eleven years old. We're playing baseball for gym class. I hate it because every time I'm up to bat all the outfielders move in real close. They're just doing it to tease me, though; they know I'll never hit the ball anyway. I strike out like always, and everyone's laughing, saying I swing like a little girl. The teacher doesn't even stop them.”
Tony rubbed Bruce's legs a little harder, anger bubbling up inside him at those boys.
“How do you feel hearing the boys laugh at you like that?” Dr. Goldstein asked.
“Embarrassed. Angry. I still have the bat in my hand. I can hear this gross snorting noise behind me. Oh god, someone just spit on the back of my neck.” He shuddered. “I'm at my breaking point. I spin around and smack the kid right in the shoulder, as hard as I can. How's that for swinging like a little girl?”
“Hmmm...” murmured Dr. Goldstein, writing in his notes. “Now what's happening?”
“They're taking me to the principal's office. Mr. James, he's our principal; he's really nice, so I'm not scared.”
“How do you feel about hitting that boy?”
“He had it coming, the little shit.”
“You're in the principal's office now. What is he saying to you?”
“He says Marty's really hurt – that's the kid I hit. He says I'm suspended and he'll have to call...” Bruce interrupted himself with a low whine. Tony felt his body seize up, then start to tremble. “Don't call him, please... Oh god, don't call him.”
“Who? Bruce, who is the principal going to call?”
Bruce began shaking harder and his voice became frantic. “Please, Mr. James, you can't tell him what I did! Please! You don't need to call him, I can walk home!” He was shouting now, begging, sweat beading up on his forehead.
“Bruce, wake up.” Tony shook his legs, trying to bring him back, but it didn't work. “Bruce, come on! Wake up!”
“Please, Mr. James, let me stay with you! Don't let him come get me!”
“Wake him up!” Tony shouted over Bruce's cries. “Wake him up now, goddammit!”
Dr. Goldstein had to get close to Bruce's ear in order to be heard, but he kept his voice calm. “Listen to the sound of my voice, Bruce. On the count of five, I am going to clap once, and you will wake. One... two... three...”
Bruce was still begging, writhing around on the couch like he was having a nightmare, and Tony was getting kicked like crazy, but he didn't care.
“Four... five.” Clap.
Bruce opened his eyes slowly. He sat up, shaking and sweaty and looking like he was in shock.
“You okay?” Tony breathed. He realized he was shaking, too.
“Um... I think so.”
He brought his head down to lean on Tony's shoulder, but kept the rest of his body about a foot away. Tony longed to put his arm around the little guy and comfort him, but he respectfully kept the distance Bruce had set between them. It wasn't like him, to respect Bruce's boundaries – usually he thought boundaries were made for pushing – but this time he knew he'd better behave for Brucey's sake.
When Dr. Goldstein asked him to leave so he could talk to Bruce, he felt like refusing.
“Come on, Jer, he needs --” he began, but stopped himself. He knew Bruce didn't want to need him. He left and sat in the waiting room.
When his buddy came out at the end of the session, Tony could tell by his red eyes and sniffling that he had been crying. His curly hair was still damp from sweat, and he was looking at the floor, not at Tony. Tony, unable to help himself, got up from his chair and tried to slip an arm round his shoulders, but Bruce shrugged him off and headed for the elevator without speaking.