Painkiller

17

Luke's head snapped up as he heard a door slam shut.

"Elena?" His brow creased in confusion - she wasn't supposed to be out for another fifty minutes; her session was supposed to be an hour long. "Elena!" His eyes widened as he saw the expression on her face and the speed of her steps. He rushed to his feet as she ran past him, quickly beginning to follow her.

By the time he managed to run out of the room, she had already began running down the stairs. Hot on her heels, he made it to the bottom of the four flights of stairs just as the door to the fire exit slammed shut. Luke pushed it open and ran out, his blue eyes scanning the alley.

He was greeted by sobbing, and he turned to the noise.

Elena sat huddled against the wall, her back heaving with each sob. Her head lay on her knees, her blonde hair draping down, hiding her face. She looked so vulnerable and so broken.

Luke hurried towards her, dropping onto his knees. He pulled her body into his arms and she responded by burying her head into his chest.

The two stayed in the position for a while, neither one caring that they were sitting on the dirty floor, or that they could be mugged at any second (it was quite a dark and scary alley). Luke didn't care that his t-shirt was being soaked and that his arms were aching from the holding the weight of the fifteen-year-old girl. Elena didn't care that her jeans were soaked from the puddle she had accidentally sat in. She didn't care that she had just made a scene in the therapists office, either.

When the crying stopped and silence settled over the two, Luke leaned his chin in the top of Elena's head. "You wanna talk 'bout it?"

Elena sighed, before wrapping her arms around her older brother. "She was asking questions."

"What kinda questions?"

"She wanted to know what I remembered. She wanted to know if I saw them die."

"What?"

Luke was shocked, to say the very least. Anger was evident in his voice and his hands were shaking. He pulled his head away from Elena, before moving her so that she was looking at him.

"How did she ask?"

Maybe I took it the wrong way. I mean, the therapist needs to know, right? She'll ask in nice ways so that she can help.

"Those are the words she used: Did you see them dying?"

Luke gently pushed Elena off his lap and out of his arms. He wrapped a hand around her wrist before pulling her back inside the building. He marched up the stairs, and anger in his heart that he didn't know was possible to feel.

How dare she hurt Elena?

He stopped in front of the reception desk, slamming his hand down onto it hard. The poor receptionist jumped, surprise clear on her face as she looked up from her computer.

"I would like to talk to whoever is the boss around here."

Luke wasn't going to take no as an answer, and the receptionist didn't try to deny him.

Luke didn't know who he was more angry at - himself or the therapist. He had assumed that because he was using a therapist that worked for the hospital that he would have the best, but, apparently not. At least it meant that she would have to deal with the consequences for her actions.

Luke's talk with the head of the psychology department had not been a small one. The head of psychology - Mr Landon - had been appalled by Mrs Wood's actions, and he quickly responded that the questions were far from protocol. He apologised profoundly, assuring the two that there would be consequences for her actions.

Mrs Woods would not be going to work the next morning.