Checking in

Third Thursday of the month. That's what she told me.

Cross couldn't help the slight apprehension he felt crawling up his spine like ice water. It was irrational, he knew, but he'd always been nervous coming in here, it had been years since the accident, but he'd required a lot of help afterwards. The crippling depression he'd fallen into an unbreakable wall that only just began to crumble down in the last couple of years. He still had trouble sharing his inner turmoil so freely, but it was getting easier.

The kind psychiatrist helped, in fact, without her Cross couldn't say for sure where he'd be by now. A husk withering away, rather than a corpse working in reverse decomposition. He was healing, that was for sure. It was a slow and almost painful process, every familiar face drew memories that stabbed him to the core, memories of parties with friends where he'd been with his wife, familiar shops that were her favorites. It all served as a painful reminder, he had noticed that these things didn't trigger sobbing fits as often as they used to. That was a good sign, right?

He took a deep breath and summoned up his best attempt at determination, you can do this, he told himself as he pushed the door open. All his resolve leaked away when he stepped into the bright room, the cheerful atmosphere a polar to his hunched and unsure demeanor.

(I am so sorry for the lateness; I didn't see your post until today!)

Clear Mind was in her office, as usual. Generally, her younger sister Straight Mind was the secretary behind the desk, but she had uni classes and Clear could not stress the importance of learning over work. So, on days like today, she had to keep her own records in a neat pile. Now, it would't have been such a hard job to tack onto the rest of her work if she wasn't affected by the occasional burst of compulsive OCD. So, rather than write the patrons on a sheet of paper or something sensible like that for Straight's return, Clear tried to keep appointment times in her head.

She wasn't very successful.

As it was, she was knee-deep (literally) in piles of old records when the bell in her office chimed to let her know that there was somepony waiting outside. With a surprised and uncharacteristic squeak, she slipped on a stack of parchment in her haste to stand and sent bits and scraps flying everywhere, including out the open door.

'Apologies!' she said with a muffled yell. 'Give me a second! I lost track of time! Help yourself to a cookie or something in the fridge!'

A green hoof stuck out of the paper and pointed in the general direction of her snack corner.

(that's okay, I would have missed this reply had I not checked!)

Cross had begun to let his mind wander as he gazed around the waiting room, he'd become very familiar with its bright walls, when he'd first started coming here they'd felt almost mocking, like it was making a joke of what had happened. But he wasn't quite the same bitter stallion, and the walls now held a much kinder tone. They put him more at ease now, and he relaxed a little bit as he settled into the comfortable surroundings.

He flinched when he heard a commotion from somewhere behind the door.

His head lifted at the sounds and he looked a bit shocked to see things tumbling out from within, "Ah...Miss Clear?" He trotted over to begin trying to help collect the things that had tumbled from inside the room, that would be the polite thing to do, right? He gently nudged and stacked things up as best he could, giving the buried mare a small, but concerned smile, "Are you alright?"

Clear coughed and sputtered as she reemerged from the chaos, throwing more paper everywhere. It was just a second's glance at the mess before the disarray hit her hard and she let out a small 'oh dear.'

'I'm so sorry about this,' she apologised. 'I got a little confused with the time. We can try and clean up a bit, or we can just have the meeting outside. Which one would you prefer?'

She shoved her way out with a burst of magic and brushed her coat into place, readjusting the ID card before grabbing a clipboard and smiling at her patient.

Cross watched as the mare emerge from the chaos of the pile of fallen papers, putting a hoof over his mouth and giving a good natured little chuckle, "I apologize, Miss." Perhaps he should have given her notice before he came by? Then again he was used to seeing another mare inside, she must be out!

He trotted forward after a moment and offered her an understanding smile, "Ah...No need to apologize, Miss Clear!" He leaned down and began to assist in picking up and straightening the papers that had scattered, chucking softly, "I know how that is, let me help tidy this all up, it'll be easier with the two of us anyway." It was always small occurrences like this that pulled him out of his melancholy hypnosis, and let him smile, even just a little. Little things that broke monotony and let him focus on something productive, even if that something was cleaning up fallen papers.