Chapter Text
The rooms weren't like how they were described in movies. There were windows on the furthest wall, yes they had locks on them to limit the length they could be opened but they did exist. He had blue blankets, per request from when he met with his therapist in his first week. His desk had a book that he had been given by his therapist, Takashi (but everyone called him Shiro), he was told to do whatever in it. Whether it be scribbles or a story or even a diary entry, Shiro didn't mind. He liked Shiro, he had a husband who was recovering from an eating disorder, so he had experienced helping someone close to him to recover. But Lance didn't have anorexia. He was just cautious about his weight. Yes, he had skipped a few meals but his weight only caused a few dizzy spells and he had only passed out once. During PT, when he had been distracted talking to Hunk which caused his to have to run two laps, Ms. Altea was always strict. But after that incident she kept checking up on Lance. Asking about how he felt both physically and mentally.
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He was currently in a meeting with Shiro, they were discussing about Lance's new doctor, who was starting with him tomorrow. Lance's old doctor had recently had a family member fall ill, so she had to leave to look after them. Lance was nervous. He wasn't really one for change. He knew that it would take a while to get used to how this doctor took things. His doctor had to spend lots of time with Lance, making sure he wasn't finding a way to slit his wrists while in his room. Sure, in his first shower run he had tried to smuggle a razor that had been left on the sink, per request to shave. His doctor had been in the room during it but Lances plan was to drop it and pretend to put it back into the draw while actually putting it in his pocket. Obviously it hadn't worked and he was put on strict rules for shower trips, even though razors were never in the room.
"So Lance, I heard that your new doctor is starting tomorrow. How does that make you feel?" Shiro asked, offering a smile as the cuban boy played with the fidget toy that was left on the table. "Nervous. I think? I can't tell." Lance looked up at Shiro, cringing at the look in his eyes. Lance hated seeing people look at him like he was broken. Shiro didn't look at him like that but Lance knew that deep down, he was thinking about it. Shiro picked up the paper he had on his desk, flipped the page over and pushed it towards Lance.
"His name is Dr. Kogane. He is a friend of mine and he prefers being called Keith at work. He worked with my husband when he was first diagnosed two years ago. He's the youngest psychologist in the country, around your age." Lance looked down at the paper. The boy on the page looked serious. His eyes a galaxy looking purple, his hair dark like black holes. Ok, Lance liked space a little. The only downside about his new doctor was his haircut. Who has a mullet in 2024? But Shiro was right, it said the boy was only 23. Lance himself was 22, his birthday in exactly 32 days. Yes, he counted.
"He looks nice I guess." Lance reached out for the marble mash that lay on the table, lying the fidget cube he had previously been fiddling with. "He is. I think you two will get along. Tell me about it in our session on Thursday, yeah?"
"Yeah. Thanks Shiro." Lance stood up, going to put the marble mash back when Shiro reached his hand out.
"Keep it, we have plenty." Lance nodded and left.
His temporary doctor, Romelle, lead him back to his room, asking him what he fancied doing when they got back to his room.
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Later that night, Lance fell asleep with silent tears streaming down his face. His portion of food had been far too large for his liking. He felt bloated and disgusting. He hoped that Dr. Keith Kogay, or whatever his name was, didn't force him to finish his meals the same way these doctors did.
He fell asleep unhappy and worried about how tomorrows day would effect him mentally. God, Shiro is going to need to double the length of their session at this rate.
