SBI - His Curse of Binding

17

"Look, Tommy, as much as I appreciate these sessions, I don't think you complaining about the new Minecraft update, that your own foster father coded, is what you really want to talk about today," Puffy said.

Tommy was sat on a beanbag next to her desk with a bowl of salted popcorn in his lap. According to Puffy, a major part of conversational model therapy was providing a warm and secure environment, so she bought a red beanbag for him off Amazon. He brought the popcorn with him (he found it in the back of Wilbur's car and his slight immortality would protect him from out of date snacks).

"Puffy, all I want to talk about is the 1.17 update, it's a good therapy subject. Like, why did they split the caves and cliffs into two parts? It should've been one big update," Tommy explained, throwing another piece of popcorn into his mouth.

His therapist quirked an eyebrow at him. "What did I tell you about lying?"

Tommy huffed. "That it's not beneficial for either of us and I'm just fucking myself over even more if I do."

"I didn't use that exact phrasing but yeah I like that answer," Puffy said, noting something onto her computer with a smile. "But seriously, what's bothering you?"

Tommy wished he didn't tell Puffy he preferred it when she pushed him for answers. Although he liked it in the beginning when she clarified that he had a choice to answer her questions, he knew that if he wasn't forced into a certain direction, this entire therapy idea wouldn't help him. He'd just end up going in circles.

He ate a few more pieces of popcorn and propped himself forward. "I'm having issues with my foster brother. The one who's also having therapy."

"Wilbur," Puffy supplied and Tommy nodded.

"I could use some advice on it now that you're diverting me from Minecraft. To be honest though, I can talk more about how the Warden is technically a mini-boss and not an actual boss because—"

"Tommy," Puffy interrupted, still amused by his enthusiasm about the video game, though she suspected it was just him trying to cover up his anxiety over the new topic. "Before I give you advice, I need some context. What did Wilbur do?"

Tommy hummed to himself. What did Wilbur do? This Wilbur did nothing to Tommy, besides make this entire conflict even worse. He hated how Wilbur spoke to him, expecting Tommy to banter back with the same energy as he usually did. The hurt that flashed in the elder's eyes pained him every single time and he didn't know what to do.

"It's not about what Wilbur did, it's more... what he represents me," Tommy decided on as he fiddled with his hands. "I can't help but make that comparison."

"Did it bother you before or is this a sudden thing?"

"A dream made the similarity apparent," Tommy confided, bitter. He peered at the office walls, the striped curtains looked too similar to the apartment complex Estella and her family lived in. His leg bounced on his feet, nerves gnawed at him. He hadn't had a Dream visit since that; he theorised that the God was purposely giving him a break.

"Tommy, you with me?" his eyes snapped forward, he pressed his hand down on his leg, stopping it from bouncing. Puffy smiled kindly at him.

"Yeah, I'm here. Just... just got lost for a moment."

"Would you say what we're dealing with here are the consequences in you relaying your dreams to your real life?" Tommy frowned, confused. "Is the problem rooted with you comparing your dreams to reality? Perhaps a difficulty distinguishing between the two?"

He shook his head. "No, Puffy, believe me, it's real. The resemblances between Wilbur and him are there, it's real." He picked at the scabs on his palm, a weight compressed against his chest. "And I can't stop comparing what I dream to what's happened or happening in my life because it's not fake."