Hamilton / Lams Oneshots

The Psychiatrist (Hamilton) [modern]

This Oneshot has been a total wreck to finish but I refuse to give up on the little ideas that I have. Hope you enjoy anyway.

Cool leather.
The quiet humming of a recently put in air conditioning.
A pleasantly neutral beige color on the wall and ceiling.

„How are you feeling today, Mr Hamilton?", I heard the mild voice of my psychiatrist. It was warm and quiet, perfectly suited for the successful carreer he had taken up. He always started our sessions the same way, and I ought have been unsettled by it - same tone, same words, exactly the same setting every time. He even sat in the same was, leaned back slightly, his book in his lap, feet crossed but knees kept beside one another. It seemed relaxed but upon closer inspection showed tension that he hid cautiously.

For some reason, I didn't mind it in the slightest. Despite the red flags that I noticed, that should make me uneasy, I felt perfectly comfortable in his office. Everything was coldly and carefully engineered to give a feeling of calm, and I indulged in that feeling without a second thought.

„I'm not completely sure", I told him after a few seconds of thought. He hummed at my answer, and I had no idea what it meant, if he was appreciative or thoughtful, or if he didn't have any opinion about it at all and simply hummed to make me feel like he was paying attention and sympathizing with me.

„That's not always a bad thing, you know", he said. „Not being sure, I mean. If you don't know why you feel the way you do, you may be more inclined to let go of that feeling." The pen in his hand tapped on the paper of his notebook a couple of times, still closed, as I watched him fidget with it. I would've never guessed him to be a fidgety person when I met him, but he was, always needing to hold something in his hands. Perhaps he was a smoker.

„Alexander", he brought my focus back. I realized I'd been zoning out staring at his pen, and he gave me an amused smile, making it clear that he'd noticed.

„Sorry", I muttered, trying to get him to change the subject as quickly as possible.

„That's alright", he hummed with a gentle smile. He clicked his pen open, resting it on his paper, „Do you zone out often?" Dammit. „Not usually", I answered with slight hesitation. „I just got here from work and I'm fairly tired. It's hard to focus after those 8 hours."

He nodded, flipping over a few pages to look at something in his notes. The pages that he flipped were empty, clearly meant for taking additional notes, which I always hated when he did. „You said you worked in a law firm, right?", he asked, and I tensed up a bit, though immediately relaxing again when he looked up from the paper and gave me one of those warm smiles. „You're quite an accomplished man, Mr Hamilton", he chuckled, and I eased up more as he still seemed to believe me.

It was all fine, anyway. We had never met eachother outside of this office, not even at the coffee shop down at the corner or in front of his office. He was always here when I came, and never left when I left. It made sense, my appointments were at 4.30pm and I was most likely right in the middle of his work day, there was no reason for him to leave the office around this time. If he had ever seen me during my job, he would've certainly not recognized it as such. He would've just seen me, with my average civilian clothes and a backpack. I looked as if I was a college student on his day off while I was at work, if anyone would even notice me long enough to make an assumption like that. The fact that in my backpack I carried a handgun and professional grade camera was something only I could know. As a detective for the federal bureau I didn't need anybody else knowing.

„Thank you. It just stresses me out a little bit. Handling cases and all", I smiled, slightly proud of myself for the double meaning. My psychiatrist nodded, writing in his book. I looked back up at the ceiling, going over all my recent cases in my mind. They were plentiful, but I wouldn't dare mention any of them to anyone, especially someone as much of a mystery to me as my psychiatrist. I had thought of finding out some more about him sometimes, but it was almost a good thing that I didn't know much about him. Knowing too much just felt like work all over again, and that was what I was here for in the first place, to get away from work-

„Mr Hamilton?", he asked, his voice strangely loud in my head. I felt his hand on my shoulder and looked to where he was sitting, except he wasn't there anymore, instead leaning over me with a warm smile. „Wake up, Alexander", he said with his warm, mild voice. „You are responding unusually well to hypnosis. I think we have made fantastic progress today."

Shit.