Micah Castro Braden // Doctor Watson, I presume (acatalyst) wrote in bellumlogs,
Micah listened, and he could tell the answers were rote ones, even if the overworked psychiatric intern didn't seem to notice. They had the feeling of repeated things, the words, and Micah wondered what exactly he'd gotten himself into by stumbling onto this man and his fondling of the elevator buttons.
The doctor prescribed something for anxiety and something for depression, and he suggested a follow-up with a personal psychiatrist. Micah walked into the room and thanked the doctor, shaking his hand. He thought the man might actually be younger than him, that he looked unsure of himself.
When the nurse returned a moment later with the prescriptions and the release papers, Micah took the prescriptions while he waited for Robert to change back into his street clothes, and he pocketed the papers. Those medicines weren't going to make anything better; he was certain of it.