Chapter 140 - Talking

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After school on Monday I was sitting in my room, trying not to think about therapy later. It was in an hour, and I was not looking forward to it.

A half hour into studying for Biology, I gave up and snuggled into my blankets and tried to take a nap.

"Mija?" Lin said, coming into my room, "time to go sweetheart." I responded by snuggling deeper into the pillows. "Honey, seriously, we have to go."

"I don't wanna." I whined, I sounded like a little kid, but, therapy sucked.

"Oh." He chuckled a little, "I'm shocked, listen Peanut, I know you don't want to go, but, well, you need to get better, and this is how you get better." I felt my bed sink down a bit, indicating that he was sitting on it.

"I don't need to get better." I protested.

"And why not Mija?" He asked.

"Because there's nothing wrong with me." I said, looking at him.

"Oh, well, kiddo, I hate to break this to you, honey, there are things wrong with you." I buried my head back into my pillows, not wanting to look at him. "None of them are your fault in the slightest." He said.

"So what! Honestly, what's the big deal, I'm upset occasionally, what teenager isn't? Also, yeah, I get nightmares, but I can cope with those." I was getting to be really indignant, but, honestly, I can handle all of this myself.

"Abi, sweetheart, can you sit up?" Lin asked, and I did, "okay darling," he put his hand on my knee, "you aren't just upset occasionally, you're bipolar. Thats okay, it's not your fault, but, Dr. Dubois is going to help with it. Also," he sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. "I hate saying this, you have PTSD. And, I'm so so sorry, it really pisses me off that an abusive home did to you what war has done to countless soldiers. That shouldn't of happened to you, but, sweetheart it did, and right now what's best is to talk it out, go through the therapies and deal with it. Kiddo, it's what's best for you."

"How are you supposed to know what's best for me?" I somewhat spat.

"Abigail," he started, "I'm your father. Part of my job as your dad is to try and help you, and when I wake up at three in the morning to hear you in bed reliving something no one should ever have to go through, it's my job to try and make it stop, to try and make you feel better." I hung my head, upset about what I had said, "what's best for you right now is therapy, so, we're gonna go." After he said that last part he lifted me up, and tossed me over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" I whined, as he left my room and was already heading out the door.

"If I put you down and let you walk will you willingly walk to the car and to therapy?" He asked, locking the door to the apartment behind him.

"No." I sighed.

"Exactly peanut." He said, and I exhaled, giving up, and flopping down a little on his back, and letting him carry me down on the elevator and through the crowded lobby and to his car. He set me in the front seat, and buckled my seatbelt.

"Don't you think that's overkill?" I asked, referring to him buckling me for me.

"Nope." He said, and kissed my forehead. "You need to be safe."

"I'm just saying, I can be trusted to buckle my own seatbelt."

"I know but I was there." He said, getting in the drivers seat.

I was scrolling through Twitter as we drove when I came across a picture from Lin carrying me downstairs, a solid 5 minutes ago.

@ManualDeMiranda - @Lin_Manuel carrying @AbigailLeighMiranda... This is so cute. Oh gosh. Let this be a regular occurrence.

"Someone got a picture of you carrying me." I said to my dad who was focused on the road.

"I don't know if that's incredibly creepy or cute. Although, now, oh crap." He muttered. 

"What?" I asked.

"Just, ugh, a fan lives in our building, or has a friend who lives in the building, crap."

"Oh." I said, scrolling past the picture. "Is it going to be okay?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, it's not a big deal." He reassured.

"Okay, just making sure."

"Yeah peanut, we'll be fine." He smiled a little.

Eventually we pulled up in front of Dr. Dubois' office, he walked me in, his arm around me.

"I'm nervous." I admitted, as he opened the door.

"I know sweetie." He said, "I know."

•••

"Okay, so, I was wondering if I could really quickly talk to you about your grades?" My therapist asked.

"Oh." I said, confused, "any specific reason?" I asked.

"Yes, well, you don't need to if you're not comfortable with it." She said, "it's just that I want to see if it matches with some research."

"Oh, I'm fine with it, I have pretty decent grades. A's in everything except for Biology."

"Oh. Okay." She seemed a bit surprised.

"Is that, is that weird, is it not normal?" I asked.

"Well, it's not weird, it's just that most kids in your situation tend to have below average grades." She said.

"Oh." Now I was surprised.

"Anyways," she said, steering us away from that topic, and into the session.

•••

"How'd it go?" Lin asked, when we were in the car.

"Fine." I grumbled.

"Okay." He said.

"It's just, I, I don't, I had to talk about everything." I admitted.

"Well peanut, that's what therapy is." Lin sighed, "talking's kind of part of the gig."

"I know, I just, talking is crap. I didn't want to talk."

"I know Mija, you've made that clear." He laughed, pulling into the apartment parking lot. "However, I'm happy because it's Monday, and do you know what that means?" He asked, changing the subject.

"I don't think I do, is it you don't have work?" I asked getting out of the car.

"Nope. Well sort of, I get to tuck Sebastian into bed tonight and I'm very excited." He smiled, walking around the car, "I get to tuck you into bed every night, but I only get to tuck your brother into bed one night a week." He added, wrapping his arm around me.

"Thank you." I said, resting my head on his shoulder.

"For what?" He asked, getting into the elevator.

"For being my dad."

"Awe Mija, you don't have to thank me for that." He said squeezing me a little.

"Yes I do." I protested, "I'm lucky. I'm really freaking lucky, I don't deserve this, I don't deserve to live with you, thank you." I looked up at him.

"Oh gosh Abigail." He kissed the top of my head. "You don't have to thank me, you're my daughter."

"But, that's what I'm thanking you for." I continued to protest.

"Shh." I felt him pull me closer into him, as he opened the apartment door. "I'm thankful for you too Mija."

•••

Thanks for reading!

- Abi

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