9I wasn't sure what Aiden's response would be once he met the psychiatrist. When Alicia called us in she seemed overly excited about meeting my brother, it was strange because usually when I came to see her she was stern and tense, forward with my issues in every way possible; but with Aiden she grew soft spoken and almost cheerful. I knew it was because she didn't want to scare him away. He had never been to a shrink before, or maybe it was the knowledge that this woman could possibly know the context of our unusual relationship that crippled his speech and made him smile weakly like a child.
Alicia gestured with one soft hand for us to sit down on the couch, she liked an informal approach to therapy because, as she once told me, she wanted to be reachable. Looking back at Aiden's sad eyes and knowing that I had a lot of explaining to do I sat down and made myself ready for dissection.
Aiden's Pov-
Kye had been so charming in front of Alicia, as if everything that had happened in the elevator had never happened. And frankly, just the mere sound of his fake laughter was enough to make me nauseous. I felt like I always did when I met with therapists: set up. I could not, or maybe, would not, tolerate such disgust. It simply wasn't part of my nature, or was it? I had always been the one in charge, the caregiver if you She was beginning her descent into illness; I bit my lips and kept going. Dealing with the after math and dirty work was part of my nature, which was probably why I couldn't stand doctors. It was like they wanted to know everything, to pull the rug from beneath your feet and leave you naked and vulnerable just so they could analyse you. Maybe it was that she had kept Kye going even though he constantly lied to her. Part of my being was jealous of that and possessive and yet angry at kye at the same time because it was his doing that she had no idea how bad it really was. And maybe all of his dramatics were beginning to ware on me. I was beginning to feel the heavy burden of trying to save another person and wanting so badly not to fail like I did with yet, this weight felt right. It felt safe somehow, and I'm not really even sure why that is. The cab ride home, in itself, was exhausting because I was trying so hard not to touch him or even look at him. I had felt so very left out and alone at that meeting that a selfish part of me wanted him to know how it felt. I was mostly angry because even with me kye and the tendency to manipulate words and say some of the harshest and uncalled for statements. It made me sick because I knew there was more to him than this, so much more.