Therapy Session | Act 2
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BLAZE DIDN'T BELIEVE IN GOD. He refused to believe in anything unless he had proof of said thing and some ancient book called a bible that was written before the dinosaurs came was not about to change his mind. He respected everyone who did believe in him, but he was not respecting whichever angel bitch decided to let him survive that overdose. Because not only did he have to go back to school and take medication that made him feel like even worse shit, but he had to sit in some ugly office and stare at a therapist who was annoying him by just sitting there.

Dr. Pierce, she said her name was. He wanted to pierce her with a rock to the head. Blaze sat on the couch and judged everything she had in her office while she tried to get him to open up. He's never felt as awkward and uncomfortable as he did at the moment.

"Do you have any friends at school? Perhaps you'd feel more comfortable talking to them instead?" The blonde-haired lady shrugged, holding the pen in her hand and the notebook in her lap.

"Of course, I have friends and if I wanted to talk to them, I wouldn't be in this stuffy ass office," Blaze said snidely. The office wasn't that bad if he was being honest. It was bigger than he expected and had a couch, a coffee table, a few plants and pictures, and a large desk beside a small chair that she was currently sitting in. The window was quite large, but she kept it close, keeping most of the natural light away from them.

"Everything you say in here is confidential. No one will know if that's what you're worried about." Dr. Pierce reassured him.

Blaze scoffed and stared at her for a moment, "If I were to speak my mind truthfully right now, you'd probably reconsider being a therapist."

Much to his surprise, Dr. Pierce chuckled and set her book on her desk along with her pen, "I chose to be a therapist to help people like you, who want to speak their mind so trust me when I say, I most definitely would not. Your parents informed me that you had a friend that recently passed away."

"Jesus," Blaze muttered under his breath, closing his eyes and he leaned his head back.

"I know it must be hard to lose such a close friend." Dr. Pierce tried to get him to open up about the past two weeks but of course, Blaze didn't budge as he started out the window.

"How much longer is this torture session—sorry therapy session?" Blaze cut her off from whatever she was about to say.

"You've been here 10 minutes, Blaze. You have 50 minutes left." Dr. Pierce said making Blaze huff, crossing his arms as if he were a child being told no.

"We can sit here in silence if you'd like, that doesn't affect me in any way, or we can work through the reason you're here. I can tell you opening up and talking about your problems makes time go by faster and you'll get out of therapy faster." Dr. Pierce explained to him.

"Yes, because talking to some shrink is going to make my problems go away, you may not think it, but therapy is useless to me and it's making me want to kill myself, for real this time. Just because I'm a petty bitch, I should just kill myself out of spite to piss off my parents and get out of this." Blaze ranted more than he thought he was going to.

"You don't have to be here Blaze. You can walk out at any time. Why are you still here?" Dr. Pierce asked the younger boy.

"My parents are assholes who are threatening to take my car keys away." Blaze rolled his eyes.

Wonder where they got that idea from. 

"You show more hatred towards therapy than most of my clients who want to be here. I highly doubt something as simple as a car, is forcing you to be here." Dr. Pierce stated.

Blaze had a small idea of why he was there. He told himself it was so he didn't have to listen to his parent's bitch and complain about how big of a disappointment he was, but if he told her that, then it would be another reason why he should be here.

"You still get paid for doing these sessions and I get to keep my car keys. You could do whatever you please and I can spend an hour of my day sleeping. Sounds like a win-win to me especially since you're not allowed to tell them anything." Blaze smiled as he lays down on the couch and got himself comfortable.

"I have to update them on your progress, Blaze." Dr. Pierce gave him a look that he couldn't see since his eyes were closed and he moved his arm underneath his head.

"That's your problem, isn't it? You said I can sit here in silence if I want so I'd appreciate it if you stopped talking." Blaze said rudely as Dr. Pierce chuckled.

"I said you can sit here in silence, I never said I would." She told him, which made Blaze pull out his phone and his headphones, smiling at the older woman as he put them in like the smug bastard that he was. 

"Talk away shrink," Blaze told her. 

Dr. Pierce sighed as she watched the boy gets lost in his head and spend the next hour falling asleep. She knew he had problems he needed to talk about, but she wanted him to want to talk about it, not be forced but first, she'd need to get him to trust her, even the slightest bit.

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Blaze thought coming back to lacrosse would be a good thing. Something to keep his mind at bay and to have a chance to let out all of his rage but as he sat on the bench sitting beside Stiles, listening to the chatting around him, he was reminded of his last game. The one where Ryle used him as a distraction which didn't go as planned, where he met Emily and Cassie and they embarrassed him to the point he was embarrassed even after the game.

"Hey, did you actually feel paralyzed? Like full body and everything?" Blaze asked Stiles who looked at him in surprise, he didn't think he'd care or even know that.

"How did you-?" Stiles trailed off.

"Um, Scott told me. Now answer my question. I've always been curious about what it felt like. Sex would be shit with a limp dick you can't even feel" Blaze chuckled as Stiles stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. Only Blaze would ask about something like that. 

"Yes, I was. from the neck down. Very unpleasant." Stiles smiled tightly as he shoved his hands in his sweater, feeling the wind blow against him, "I thought you decided not to hang around us. Why is Scott telling you this?"

"I've decided to change my mind. What better way to distract myself from my first love's tragic death and the fact that I'm being forced into therapy, than to deal with you two idiots and the problems you cause." Blaze smirked at Stiles.

"Typical. Using us as an escape from your suffering." Stiles rolled his eyes as Blaze rose an eyebrow at the cold attitude.

"Because you watched someone die and you went through something traumatic, I understand the cold attitude. I'm walking proof, I'm going to let that slide. If you want my therapist's number, you can have it. Bit of a warning, she's a cunt." Blaze offered with a small shrug.

Stiles blew out air from his mouth before he shook his head, "No thanks, I had my therapy time."

"You went to therapy?" Blaze asked in surprise as Stiles rolls his eyes again.

"We've been friends for years and you didn't know I went to therapy for a year?" Stiles asked Blaze who shrugged, "It was after my mom died. My dad thought I'd need it after everything that happened."

Blaze was quiet for a moment as he watched some bulldozer knock players off the field, "Did it help?"

"I hated it at first. It sucks sitting in a chair with a random person just to talk about your feelings and trauma." Stiles said stiffly. He barely talked about his therapy time with Scott or even his dad but knowing Blaze experienced a loss like he did, made it feel easier to talk about. He hated talking to his dad about it because he already had enough problems to deal with. 

"Yeah." Blaze nodded his head.

"But yes, it did, a bit. I thought going to therapy would mean working through my issues and then I'd be fine but that wasn't exactly the case. Therapists are not there to get rid of your problems, they're just there to help you through them because you can't do it on your own." Stiles glanced up at Blaze who was quietly listening to him.

"Losing someone doesn't get easier Blaze. It just gets easier to handle." Stiles said softly.

"So, I've heard." Blaze nodded with slight annoyance in his voice, "You're not all sarcasm and nonsense, are you?"

Stiles chuckled at the last comment, "I've had a terrible 24 hours. I'll be back to that, soon."

"Anderson! Get your ass back on the field!" Coach yelled to Blaze who sighed and put his helmet on and stood up.

"Good luck with that abomination," Stiles said jokingly.

"Good luck with that bench," Blaze smirked back at him as he grabbed his stick and ran out into the field not noticing a certain boy's eyes on him, snapping a picture of him.

"Hey, be careful. Allison's grandfather is here." Scott ran up to him, panting slightly as he spoke quietly, nodding toward the pair sitting on the bleachers.

"He looks 80 and probably has some sort of cancer that I can't spell. I'll be fine." Blaze rolled his eyes with a slight chuckle.

"I mean it, Blaze. Being in these games can cause a lot of anger to rise." Scott gave him a pointed look making Blaze sigh.

"I'll be fine, take a chill pill. If I kill someone, I kill someone." Blaze shrugged playfully as he backed away from Scott.

"Blaze! Blaze-" Scott went to yell after the boy who waved him off and joined everyone in the game, making Scott sigh in annoyance.

Blaze ran down the field, watching as that bigger guy knocked down two of their players making him annoyed, "How are we supposed to get rid of this fucker?"

"Run around him." Danny shrugged not having a clue and he was trying to avoid being hit by the man.

"Fucks sake," Blaze grumbled under his breath as they continued to play the game. One player is knocked down before another making Blaze agitated.

Growing up Blaze always had quick reflexes which seem to be at his advantage as he avoided Eddie making him chuckle before it fell seeing the player in front of him. A player from the other school wearing a jersey with the number 16 on it.

Ryle's number.

The slight distraction made Blaze unaware of his surroundings when Eddie knocked into him, pushing him forwards where he landed harshly on his ankle making him yell in agony. 

"Blaze!" Scott yelled as Blaze rolled into his stomach, resting his head on the ground as he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach and the pain in his ankle.

The number, the team losing, Allison's grandfather.

When Blaze walked onto the field at the beginning of the game, a part of him was hoping to see Emily and Cassie. Every game they had gone to... to cheer on Ryle and now they had no reason to go and that made Blaze more upset than he liked to admit. He hasn't seen them since the night Ryle died and he couldn't bear to face them but being on the field without Ryle while they were suffering at home, made Blaze's throat tighten and his eyes glossed over as he tried to focus on the pain in his ankle.

He found himself unwillingly growing angry, but he didn't know what he was angry at. Preferably the world because all it seems to do is fuck up his life. He didn't know if he wanted to punch someone or just cry his eyes out, but he was suddenly wishing he never played in the game.

Especially when he got his hands began to hurt, more specifically his nails making him breathe out, trying to think about anything other than losing control. 

"Blaze! Blaze." Scott yelled as he ran over and crouched down beside him, hearing his heart raising and his shallow breaths, he placed a hand on his back.

"Just breathe in and out. Focus on my voice, okay?" Scott said softly, ignoring the coaches' words, asking if he was alright.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Blaze breathed out as he squeezed his eyes out for a second.

"You're not fine. You're either losing control or having a panic attack because it seems like both. Blaze, you need to get off the field." Scott said sternly yet comforting.

"Fuck." Blaze muttered under his breath as he pulled his helmet off, breathing out as he ignored the pain in his hands and touched his ankle, "I think it's sprained."

Scott looked at his ankle before looking at Blaze's glossed-over and red eyes before shaking his head at the coach who cursed under his breath, "Go. You shouldn't be playing in this game. Not with everything you're going through right now."

"Come on." Scott placed his arm over his shoulder before placing his other arm around his waist and helping Blaze walk off the field, "It should heal eventually."

"Thanks." Blaze nodded at Scott before he moved his arm away from him and limped off the rest of the field and past the bleachers.

"Blaze, are you alright? You might need to go to the hospital for that." Melissa called out from the bleachers as she gave him a soft smile, seeing how upset he was even if he tried to hide it.

"I'll be fine." Blaze gave her a tight smile as he quickly left, feeling his eyes fill with tears and trying to stop the sob that left his mouth as he walked toward his car. On his way, he caught sight of Lydia crying in her car making more tears fill his eye as he saw how much his best friend was hurting and he never bothered once to check up on her.

Limping over to the passenger door, he opened the door making Lydia jump slightly as she wiped some of her tears and saw her best friend crying as well.

"When did we turn out so pathetic?" Lydia choked out as Blaze chuckled slightly and leaned forward and hugged her tightly as they both cried. Both of their problems build up just to come crashing down, no matter how much they tried to fix them.

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