The Patient's Painkiller is a Psycholologist

Chapter 8

Sun was shining brightly like a spotlight down on the small garden of the facility. Despite the good day, Peter had a small frown on his face, knowing his patient couldn’t enjoy the garden himself like the other’s- he cant even go enjoy anything that is outside his room, all thanks to his aggressive history.
He had been lucky that no one seemed to notice or care that Mr Wilson, Wade, wasn’t wearing his straitjacket and Peter was thankful for that- there had been cases where patients had dislocated their shoulders due to wearing the thing for a long period of time, Luciana bing one of them.

“Peter Pan!” speak of the devil “Meter Man!”

“Good morning, Lucy” Peter greeted from where he sat on the bench under the shade, his notebook in hand like always.

“Ué?” Luciana paused, doing that blank stare she did when she was analyzing something “What’s up your ass today?” she asked, inviting herself to sit besides him

“Whatever do you mean?” Peter chuckled at the use of her words, turning his gaze away from her to look at the others enjoying the sunlight.

Luciana followed his gaze, blowing some of her messy curly hair out of her face before leaning back.

It was silent for a moment, contrary to popular belief, Luciana was a quiet person- Peter had trouble when she was his patient, never getting her to talk enough or talk about what he needed her to… Still, it served as good practice for Mr Wilson.
Peter sighed at the reminder of his patient again.

“Let me guess” Lucy said suddenly “You are problemas with your new patient, who is huge btw- he was so fucking tall fr” she didnt bother looking at Peter as she talked, reminding Peter of that time Mr Wilson was taken to the cafeteria “So you are upset because you cant figure out a solution to said problem”

“huh” Peter blinked, turning his attention back to her as she crossed her legs much alike a proud child “You know, Ive said this before but people really dont give you enough credit” he smiled, always proud of his patients

“Eh” she shrugged “People think that because you have mental problems you can't do anything” she said casually “much less think logically” she added, voice serious “Just because I can’t eat my food out of a plate, doesn’t mean I can't cook”

Peter nodded, sure that if anyone else were to listen to their conversation they wouldn’t have a clue of what was being said but he knew. Luciana in the past had many breakdowns, often starving herself, due to being given food on a plate and not a bowl - Peter had purchased a cereal bowl for her and served food for her to get her to eat again. It was a good metaphor that only Lucy and he seemed to understand but even so, Peter had used those words in conversation before.

“So” she turned to Peter “What’s the prob bob?”

“Lucy” Peter began “you know I cant speak of my patient’s troubles to anyone but those above me”

“…God?” Lucy looked up with confusion “Hey- respect, me too”

“No, my bosses” Peter rolled his eyes with a smile

“Pedro” Lucy began seriously despite the name used “Sometimes- you’ve told me this before but in much better words but I’m still going to try and quote it” she said quickly before continuing with a deep breath and leveling her gaze with his “Sometimes you need another pair of eyes, another pair of hands and maybe another pair of brains-“

“People only have one brain”

“Point is” Lucy ignored “You might be too short to see above a crowd but there might be someone taller than you that can see what’s on stage” she said “all you gotta do is ask them what’s going on”

He felt himself smile at the unprofessional way of what he had said to her so long ago about ‘other perspectives’, leaning back with a sigh

“You got me with your speech” he chuckled

“I know” she huffed contented “I’m actually really proud of it, can you write down what i said? i’ve already forgot- put the date and time so it can go in history books” she joked, quieting down when Peter remained silent.

Feeling Luciana lean back on the bench with him, Peter tried to put his troubles into words.

“Mr Wilson- Wade…” he corrected, a faint smile making itself apparent at the memory “He can't leave his room as of yet, I can't tell you why, but I wish he could enjoy other things with everyone else… like everyone else is allowed to” he said “I tried to talk to him about it but he looked uncomfortable so I let the subject drop…” he recalled the panic that had set into the man’s eyes as he grasped onto his mask for his dear life, almost as if Peter was going to rip it out.

Luciana listened quietly humming when she noticed Peter was done.

“Try something else then” she said simply and Peter was always impressed by how easily she thought problems to be

“Like what” Peter decided to humour, wondering if she really had an idea

“Well… There were times I was uncomfortable with talking, né?” she turned to him “But you built up towards that- so do that with him- built towards it” she shrugged.

When Peter turned, she began to attempt to elaborate on what she meant, probably because Peter had a confused expression that he didn’t bother mask

“The bowl you got me” she tried “I didn't talk on why I hated being looked after or eating out of a dumbass plate” she said “but you saw that it was more than about a plate and just kind of…” she struggled, doing hand gestures “yeah- you got me a bowl, blue and patterns on the inside and everything, and slowly got my trust and made me comfortable” she smiled “you have this comforting vibe to you, you know? use that”

Peter smiled, eyes trailing down to his lap where his hands were clasped over his small notebook.

“I need to get him a proper mask” he said suddenly and noticed Lucy’s toothy grin from the corner of his eye

“Yeah? now that i think about it- he did wear one, huh” she commented

“I did get him one but I think he thought it was…ugly” He looked up “So i need a nice mask- Something that is comfortable for his skin and looks flattering- something that will make him feel good about himself” he continue to think out loud

“I used to know a drug dealer who wore a mask” Lucy said nonchalantly

“I don't think he wants the mask for healing… more for hiding” Peter ignored her, humming

“Have you tried Etsy?” she asked “Do you want me to contact that drugger and ask where he got his mask?”

“I’d have to take measurements of his head, probably” Peter held his chin in thought “maybe let Wade design the mask himself?” he wondered aloud, already opening his notebook to write down

“Can I draw ideas as well?” Lucy continued despite being aware that when Peter got like this, he didn't listen to anything around him “If the first mask doesn't fit, can I have it?”

“He seems to really like red so maybe…” Peter was already standing up, slapping his notepad shut and mumbling as he walked away, Luciana’s presence forgotten

“Give me the contact of the mask-maker when you get it!” Lucy shouted casually, grinning wide despite her old psychologist being long gone.

“What ...the fuck?” a rough voice asked from behind and she turned with a lazy toothy smile

“oh hey, Bucky-yucky”

“Don’t” was all the man said, walking past her and towards his own aide, Mr Rogers.

Funnily enough, as her own aide came to her she finally remembered why she had come to Peter in the first place

“Oh yeah, I was going to tell Peter I am have a part-time job now”