Who: Johnny and Morticia What: First Session When: Friday afternoon Where: Morticia's office Warnings: language on Johnny's part, the rest is TBD.
Diane sat at the end of his bed, finishing off her cigarette and now raising an eyebrow, Johnny dreading her words as they marched up her esophagus and rolled off of her tongue. She wasn't speaking yet, but she would be soon, too soon, and soon had become now, and she said, "Alright, Johnny-boy. I smoked with you, now you have to come to your doctor's appointment." He shook his head despondently and continued scribbling in his sketchbook. "What do you mean 'headshake'?" Diane asked, shaking her own head in a bad imitation of him, jaw all slack, pretending he was half catatonic. He felt bad, not allowing himself to be escorted off to his doctors appointment, but only because Diane brought him cigarettes every morning and he owed her for it. She had access to his money, so he was paying for them, but she didn't have to smuggle them in there for him...plus it had taken her half of a day off to find a shop that sold Sally's cloves. But he couldn't help it that all his appointments thus far had fallen on 'bad days'.
He looked at the orderly and frowned. "I can't leave. You know I can't leave." As she opened her mouth to speak, the meat slab of a male orderly standing behind her, some asshole named Jeremy or James or something, made some ridiculous comment about picking him up and dragging him to Dr. Addams' office. Johnny pondered the hilarity of the things that he could do while being drug, mainly things to ensure that James or Jeremy or Judas never came near him again, and that was when he realized that those words had slipped out of his mouth unfiltered and in the form of a threat, and now the J-man was giving his a very dirty look. "It's Jarod, you fucking prick," he said, as if that was an adequate response. Johnny proceeded to inform him that he didn't care if he was Jesus Fucking Christ, he wasn't going to see his doctor, which was when Jarod removed a syringe from a tray he was holding, and everyone got very still.
Staring at the two orderlies, Johnny thought several minutes about what had happened last time he was tranqued. And although he doubted that those drugs in the syringe were anything compared to the ones he had been shot with a few weeks ago, they would be bad enough, and he couldn't fight them off. Putting out his cigarette, he got off his bed and stretched. Wearing loose dark jeans and a Sex Pistols t-shirt, he was barefoot and his hair was unruly. He didn't give half a fuck, if that were even possible, but what was half a fuck anyway? He could think of a few answers but none of them were exactly the sort of thing to get oneself in the mood for a doctor appointment. Sighing, he shrugged and walked over to the door, which was precisely when he realized he couldn't leave. At least, he couldn't leave without convincing himself that this was ok, that is was all a lie, but actually accepting it's truth, using one word to accomplish it all, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK, screaming the last one, pounding his fist against the door jamb and somehow ending up in the hall. He had made it.
The rest of the walk to his doctor's office was mainly uneventful, except for when another patient attacked him, ripped his face off, only they didn't, they only shook his hand, except that they only smiled at him in passing, and not even really at him but more through him. His doctor was on Sally's floor. He looked for her, but she wasn't there. And then he was at her door and Diane was knocking.