Today In Group

Court. Mandated. Therapy.

Those three words could strike fear in any member of the force's heart. Garrett Byron knew that those words would come eventually. After all, when the chief of police finds out that you beat a perp half to death because he "was resisting arrest" you have one of two choices. Since getting fired wasn't a choice the chief wanted to make, therapy had been the one assigned to him.

He knew it was stupid. A therapist could never get him to reveal his emotions about anything. He would stay, locked up on the inside like a tower until he could bear it no more and he finally withdrew into his own private world for good. He knew it was a terrible realization but it was the only way he could see his life going.

Garrett entered the room, his blood running cold when he realized it wasn't one on one therapy with a shrink who wanted to get inside his head. There were other people here, other people who were going to want to hear about his past.

That just wasn't going to happen.

Sitting by himself in the back, he looked around the circle in the room. There were a few men, a few women. He didn't recognize anyone as being one of his neighbors so he wasn't going to risk being seen coming and going from therapy.

"Boss better be upping my pay for this," he grumbled to himself as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Seth sighed quietly as he sat there with his head in his hands, one hand anyway; the other was bandaged and resting in his lap. It wasn't the first time he'd had to sit in the room and attend one of the sessions, though it was the first since he'd actually been allowed to go home, having spent the past month or so in hospital; he'd lost track of exactly how long it had been.

'I'd rather be anywhere else but here...' He thought to himself before realising that wasn't exactly true, there was one other place he could think of that he'd rather avoid, where he'd been the passed few years while serving as a Sergeant in the army.

He was glad to be home obviously, he just wasn't happy about the reason he was. He'd been sent home after being injured and had been in the local hospital since then, besides the week he'd been at home and having to attend these sessions and check ups of course.

Hearing the door open, Seth lifted his head just enough to catch a glimpse of someone new entering, though he thought the man looked familiar. As the man passed by, Seth watched him briefly before lowering his head again, zoning out when the therapist started talking.

It was the same old tired spiel, "we are here to help each other" and "hello my name is and I'm here because". Like he would ever share the real reason he was here. These people were strangers to him, nothing more than people he was going to have to share his weeks with.

When the circle got to him, he stood, brushing off his lap and looking around the room. There was a young man with his head in his hand, the other bandaged up. He looked sort of familiar but it couldn't of been. The last time he had seen that face was the week before his wedding.

Tears flashed in his eyes as he thought about his wedding before starting his speech lowly, "Hello, my name is Office Garrett Byron from the Amethyst Lake Police Department and I'm here because my boss didn't give me a choice."

"Oh Mr. Byron," the therapist, a much smaller man in a red polo and black slacks started, "I'm sure you had a choice if you wanted to be here or not. I'm sure you wanted to change."

Garrett's eyes flashed as he looked at the therapist, his voice just as low as it was before, "No, I didn't want to be here. Don't assume you know I want to change because I don't. I'm happy with who I am."

Lost in his thoughts as he tried to think of anything but why he was there, Seth barely noticed as the others in the circle started introducing themselves, like they had to every time. Hearing the man he'd watched walk in before introduce himself though made him pay attention again, Seth tensing slightly at the name. He knew that man.

None of the other people who normally attended the therapy sessions were people Seth knew, that's what happens when you're away for as long as he had been, but the new person, the officer, was different.
Before Seth had gone overseas, the two of them had trained together, up until Garrett had left; though at the moment Seth couldn't quite recall why, his mind dominated by the memories that haunted him.

He couldn't help but smile a little though at Garrett's response, not being too fond of the therapist, who tried and usually failed to get any sort of response from Seth during the sessions.

Garrett st back down, looking just as surly as he usually did since he his wife. He looked over at the young man who was sitting by himself. There was something familiar about him. That face...those eyes...

"Seth?" Garrett asked with a deep look of concidertion. "Seth Johnson?"

Was this man, who had visibly spent some time in the military, the friend he had once had in high school.

Hearing his name, Seth jumped slightly, assuming it was the therapist telling him off for something like not paying attention. He relaxed a little though when he realised it wasn't the therapist's voice he'd heard, Seth slowly looking up at the man who'd spoke, not surprised that it was Garrett considering he was the only person Seth recognised at all.

"...yeah." He said quietly, the complete opposite of how he would have responded in the past.

Instead of saying anything else, he just looked at Garrett before lowering his head again, blinking as he tried to clear his mind again, memories threatening to take over; something he'd had issues with since returning home.

This was not the Seth that he knew. This Seth was quiet and seemed as if he was harboring all sorts of dark secrets. Garrett knew better than to ask questions. When a man had something to hide, he would go at all lengths to keep it hidden. Garrett knew it all to well. He had a secret resting on his shoulders that he would never tell a soul.

However, he didn't know why this had happened. Why had one of the brightest men in his graduating class, a man he had trained with for most of his life before he had gotten married and moved on to bigger and better things, come back to this small town? Didn't he have a well paying job with the military?

Putting his head in his hand again, Seth pulled a face as he tried to concentrate on the therapy session, hoping it would help him ignore the memories. When it didn’t work though he glanced up at Garrett, trying instead to remember when exactly it was he’d last seen the man. He flinched as he ended up seeing the memories anyway instead of Garrett, despite the man being what he was actually looking at.

“I-I have to go…” Seth said as he looked at the therapist, starting to panic as the memories threatened to completely take over. Without waiting for an answer, the sergeant got up out of his chair, ignoring his name being called as he hurried out of the room.

Seth kept walking until an empty corridor where he leaned against the wall, panting as if he’d been running around, having a sort of panic attack as the memories resurfaced. He swore under his breath as he slid down the wall, running his uninjured hand through his short hair as he sat on the floor, completely unaware of his surroundings.

Garrett wasn't a man who knew much. He knew how to get perps to coness, he knew how to make a killer chili, and he most certainly knew that look that Seth had given him before fleeing the room.

He made no move to tell therapist where he was going because he felt no obligation to do so.He looked around the hall, trying to figure out where Seth had gone. He didn't think about anything but where his old friend went.

Finally happening across him, he sank down into the floor with him. "I agree," Garrett said to break the tension, "I couldn't stay a moment longer in that room with that man either...."

Seth jumped at the sound, a small gasp escaping his lips as he focused back on reality. He blinked a few times to help clear his mind, gazing down at his hands, frowning slightly at the bandaged one before lifting his head to slowly look around, staring at the other man as if he was trying to figure out whether or not he was real.

"Garrett..." He said slowly, the name sounding strange to him, not having spoken it for so long. "...what are you doing here?"

"I assume your asking what I'm doing back in town and not why I'm on this Earth or why I'm in therapy," Garrett dryly joked. Just by the way that the words sounded on his lips one could tell that he hadn't said anythong even close to a joke in a long time.

"I got transfered to this PD instead of New York's after a case," shrugged Garrett, "what aboutyou? Last I read anything about you, President Obama was commending you for the work you did overseas. I thought you were going to be a career military man."

Seth nodded slowly, not showing any sign of recognising whether or not what Garrett had said was a joke.

“I was going to…well, I am actually but-” He trailed off, hanging his head, frowning. “What…what sort of case?” He asked instead to change the subject, not wanting to talk about his job. He absent-mindedly played with the dog tags he had around his neck as he looked back up at Garrett, holding his bandaged hand close to his body.

He knew the joke wasn't funny but in the past, Seth would have laughed no matter how unfunny it was. There was something wrong with his old friend but Garrett would never call him out on it.

After being asked about the case, Garrett froze. Even if it was his best friend, he would never tell him the truth. "Vicious string of robberies. Boss didn't want me involve after I beat the hell out of the perp."

“Why…Why’d you do that?” Seth asked curiously, though he still hadn’t entirely calmed down yet. If he’d been at home, he would have just started drinking to make himself feel better, but having been sent to therapy, he couldn’t do that and had to find another way to distract himself, so he decided to question Garrett instead. He had a feeling though that he hadn’t been told exactly what had happened, but didn’t bother questioning it, worried he’d lose his distraction if he did.
“He steal your lunch?” He added with a smirk, a little of his old self showing through before disappearing again, his laugh sounding nervous, almost forced instead of carefree like it once would have been.

"Why'd I do that? Well the guy kept stealin' from kids. I wouldn't normally mind but I hate scum who commit crimes against kids, no matter what that is," shrugged Garrett as he slinked down against the wall. He didn't have any where to be so he thought he'd stick around.

"No he didn't steal my lunch," chuckled Garrett, "what about you, did the army kick you out for going Rambo on them?"

"Right." Seth said, slowly nodding at the explanation. He watched Garrett with a curious expression, trying to figure out how long exactly it had been since they last spoke, almost missing the question Garrett asked.

"What? I..." He started, about to ask what the other man had asked him before he had actually heard it. "No, it's...it's not like that at all, I still am part of the army..."

He reached a hand up to play with his dog tags again before showing them to Garrett as if he felt he had to prove what he said was true. "I...just got sent home for a while...to recover." He said quietly, sighing.

Garrett looked at the dog tags. He had always sort of envied Seth in that aspect. Had he not met the woman he would have married, he could have been a Sargent in the army and would have been able to become so much more than he was: a small town cop who didn't matter anymore.

Not that he would have traded his wife for the world and just the thought of it put a sour look on his face. He leaned back against the wall and looked over at Seth, one eye open. "Sent home to recover huh? What happened?"

Hearing the question about what happened, Seth suddenly became even more withdrawn, making his need for the therapy sessions obvious.
He drew his knees to his chest and lowered his gaze to the floor, tears shining in his eyes, though the old Seth would never have shown emotion like that in front of people.

"It...it's nothing..." Seth mumbled. "Hurt my hand in a training exercise." He lied, though he knew that wasn't something he would have been sent home to recover from.

Garrett knew how to handle reactions, his job as a cop having schooled him in that. He looked him over with a frown, knowing by the reaction that something had happened over seas. That's why Seth was here in group therapy today and that's why he needed to do something.

"What do you say to getting out of here and getting supper?" Garrett asked.

Seth took a breath to try and calm himself down, blinking to clear the tears from his eyes before slowly nodding. Once he was sure the tears were gone, he looked back at Garrett.

"Away from here sounds good..." Seth said slowly. "Never really liked this place, even before I went away."

"I've never liked doctors," Garrett replied as he stood, holding out a hand for his old friend. He hoped Seth wouldn't notice the marks. They had come at first, with the death of his wife, it was part of the reason he had ended up where no one would care if something happened to him. After all, a cops death by suicide in New York would be a big deal.

Seth lifted his head to look up at Garrett when he stood, hesitating before giving a small smile and taking the hand, slowly standing. Once he was on his feet, Seth put his dog tags back under his shirt where they usually sat.

Before coming home he would have proudly let anybody see them, now he kept them hidden because he couldn't bring himself to actually stop wearing them. He'd tried when he'd first returned home but had realised he felt lost without the tags, as if they were part of him.

"It's mostly just the one doctor I try to avoid. I don't mind the others so much." Seth said, not noticing Garrett's marks, he often missed details like that lately. "Though I'm still not really a fan of being here anyway."

He paused, pulling a face as he looked around, trying to figure out where exactly he'd ended up while escaping the therapy room earlier, not having paid attention to where he was going. "...any idea which way's out?" He asked, a sheepish grin on his face.

"I don't lik therapists," he shrugged as he started to lead Seth from the area they were in, just as confused on where they had ended up. "They think they know what you've been through inyour life but they don't know."

He sighed and opened the door, "Why don't we go get dinner? I don't have anything better to do anyways."

It was true. After work he would go home and study case files from that day...that wretched day whose memories were burned into his brain like a wood engraving on the box that his wife was buried in.

Seth sighed and nodded, agreeing with him about the therapists. “They tried to get me to talk one on one, but sent me to the group when it didn’t work. The idiots seem to think seeing other people talk will help me do the same.”

He stopped to look at Garrett as he opened the door, thinking about the offer before shrugging his shoulders. “Sure, why not? My girlfriend’s visiting family out of town anyway…better than eating my terrible cooking all alone.” He said; a small smile on his face as he joked about his cooking before it disappeared again.

"Don't joke about your girlfriends cooking," Garrett said, his voice sounding more cross then he meant it to. "One day she might not be here and then you won't have anyone to cook for. You'd hate that. Trust me."

He sighed and followed Seth out into the cold, pulling the collar of his coat up. "Can I follow you there?"