A Guide to Being a Superhero...Therapist? (Guide to Being, Novella Two)

The Therapy Session We Have All Been Waiting For

My breath felt oddly trapped as I stared down at Eric. My sweaty hand clasped his. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily as a doctor stitched up his leg. I swallowed hard. I almost wished I could run away. Watching him deal with the pain, holding his hand, mulling over the evening's events felt...intimate. Vulnerable. I ran my free hand through my bob.

I'd revealed my identity to him and Amrita. And I'd watched him fall apart thanks to a bullet skim. Normally, I would be trying not to judge him. I had been shot, stabbed, stitched up, and shoved back into action dozens of times. But rather than finding him weak, I was curious. If anything, my care for him had grown. Eric groaned.

"It's alright, Eric," I whispered. "It's almost done."

I glanced at the doctor. He nodded.

"Just one more."

Eric gripped my hand tighter, keeping his eyes closed. After a few more moments, the doctor straightened.

"Done," he began putting away his things. "I'll get some forms for you, and then you can leave."

Eric exhaled and let his head fall back onto the hospital bed chair-thing. His chest heaved with exhaustion. I gave the doctor a weak smile.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure," he walked out of the room.

Eric opened his eyes. My heart quickened. I tried to release his hand, but he held on tighter. He looked up.

"Hi."

"Heya," heat flooded my face.

He stared into my eyes. Golly. How had I never noticed just how beautiful his eyes were?

"I'm still shocked...Kim," he shook his head. "I can't believe I didn't guess."

"I've had years to perfect my...appearances."

We were silent. I swallowed hard, wishing I could look away.

"So, how are you feeling?"

He groaned and hid his face in his hand, "You must think I am an idiot."

"Eric," the softness in my voice scared me. "I'm training to be a therapist too."

"Well, I think I'm an idiot."

"Eric," I repeated.

I sat on the cushion beside him and netted my hand in his hair. His breath hitched as he let his hand fall from his face. I leaned still closer.

"You aren't an idiot or weak. You are one of the strongest people I know, and I don't say that lightly."

He shook his head, "Kim -."

"Shh," I hesitated a moment longer and kissed his cheek. "Let's go. We can talk better elsewhere."

The doctor came back in and finished his instructions. After stopping by the front desk, Eric and I walked (or in his case, limped) out into the parking lot. The drive was extremely awkward. I didn't want to force conversation until we were in a more comfortable area—not that my house would be much better. I pursed my lips, driving up to the duplex. Eric let out a low whistle beside me.

"I know," I gave him a wry grin and climbed out of the car.

"Superhero-ing really does pay well," he followed me, limping.

I stepped closer, "You can use my shoulder for a crutch."

"I could use your head," Eric leaned against me.

"Oh, shut up," I made a face.

We walked inside. I helped Eric into the living room and gestured for him to sit down.