Neon Rush {M/M} ❀

Ch.20.2 Palpable as Petrichor

20.2 - Palpable as Petrichor

Sami's treatment room has sage green walls, soft furnishings and a thick, shag rug. Bookshelves span one wall, some filled with books typical of a psychologist's office, but other curios Zef would associate with a child's toy room. A few stuffed animals, fidget toys, a block you hammer pieces out of before putting back together.

There are multiple places to sit. A squashy armchair, the long chaise lounge Zef associates with therapy offices. He can't imagine lying there, staring at the ceiling, unburdening his feelings on Sami like they do in films. He takes the armchair, tucking his knees up and folding himself into it like he can become the upholstery.

Sami sits across from him. This Sami wears glasses and a necklace with a ladybug charm, giving preschool teacher vibes. She doesn't have a clipboard, but he supposes she doesn't need one. She can replay this session, transcribe every word by rote. He swallows.

It gets worse, because she doesn't say anything.

Zef sits in that silence for maybe five seconds before he says, "So...?"

"I usually like to let you lead the conversation," Sami says. "Do you find silences uncomfortable?"

Zef, overwhelmed, says, "I...don't...know?"

She takes this in stride. "Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?"

"I like working with machines? Taking them apart, putting them back together." He turns traffic-light red and holds up his hands, "Not sentient machines! No androids!"

She laughs. "Of course not. Was Damo the first android you met?"

He thinks about how often people say they don't know any trans people, as if they're instantly identifiable. "Mmm, that I know of."

"Does it bother you, talking to an android like this?"

"It's not that you're an android," Zef says. "It's that you want me to talk about, like, deep stuff. And I don't really know you."

"That's fair. We don't have to discuss anything you're not comfortable with, yet. Though I'd like to know how you're doing."

"Doing?"

"You've been through an ordeal. Damo tells me you were injured quite badly."

Unconsciously, Zef's hand goes to his chest. Sami's gaze takes that in, features softening. He tries to sink further into the chair.

"How are you feeling?" she prompts.

"Worried."

"About what?"

"Uh...That Gray blames himself for what happened."

A wrinkle between her brows forms an exclamation point. "What makes you say so?"

Zef takes a huge breath. He tries his best to recount what happened with Rylan. How she'd hidden the control chip within Zef during his top surgery, and that if he'd listened to Gray maybe none of that would have happened. As he recounts the story, though, his chest tightens with the phantom ache of a fist running him through. He finds it hard to breathe. The exclamation point between Sami's eyebrows deepens, and that only makes it worse.

"Gray, he... He thinks he nearly killed me. But it wasn't him," Zef says. "But he won't talk to me and—"

Sami holds up a hand to quell him. "You had a near death experience, but only feel concern for Gray?"

"I'm fine. But Gray, he... If I hadn't been there, Rylan wouldn't have been able to take control of him."

"Do you feel like it was your fault?"