Chapter Text
As Solomon waited for the receptionist to call his name he looked down at his feet wondering how it came to this. He had done everything he could to keep his mental state stable. “What if he laughs at me for being a waste of oxygen,” he thought to himself.
“Maybe I didn’t do enough.” He said reprimanding himself out loud for thinking that way.
“Solomon Filch.” He heard the receptionist faintly call his name. And even though he was waiting for this moment he still couldn’t help but jump at the sudden mention of his name, he was on edge, he felt twitchy, and a sudden compression on his chest, but he could tell he wasn’t moving. He was nervous, and he could feel it. As much as he hoped it wasn’t true, that it was all in his head he knew that he needed help... he just didn’t know how much.
After he heard the receptionist call his name one more time he finally responded, albeit reluctantly. “Yeah... that’s me.”
“Hello Mr. Filch, the name’s Tracey Kopps, I’m the NEW receptionist, after the last one was fired,” she looked left and right checking to see if there was anyone watching, even though Solomon was the only person there. “She was a TERRIBLE person, a real bitch if ya ask me,” she whispered chuckling soon after.
Solomon just stared at her; a deadpan expression splayed against his face. If he were to guess that was probably supposed to be a joke but he was too in his own head for it to click in time. Which resulted in Tracey’s ears lowering.
“Sorry about that, Dr. Conover would like to see ya now... sorry for wasting your time.” Solomon could feel the embarrassment in the air, he felt a bit of secondhand embarrassment because it was his fault for not laughing at her “joke” but he thought nothing of it.
“It’s okay, I should’ve caught the joke. I’m just a little frazzled, y’know. I don’t know how this is gonna go.” As he said that he stared at the door some more.
“Mr. Filch,” Tracey said gaining Solomon’s attention as she snapped her fingers. It felt like 5 secs to Solomon but in reality, it was about 2-3 minutes. “Mr. Filch, I can assure ya that there is nothing wrong with getting, or seeking, the help ya need. We all need some help sometimes, better late than neva if ya ask me.”
While her attempts to reassure Solomon were in good will, they simply couldn’t help Solomon. His mind was unfazed. Almost as if it was trying to actively overpower the doe, Solomon’s subconscious started to flash images in his head and conjure up thoughts of failure and worthlessness. Some of the images were as simple as him just was walking out of the building. Others, sadly, didn’t have the same luxury. As more images flashed in his head, the worst they became. Several of the images showed him being shunned for trying to receive the help he needed. Others showed him jumping out the window. The final image that he was shown, was of someone bursting through the doors, gun in paw, looking at him and taking aim. He was definitely terrified but, he was not surprised, because he had already seen it all before.
Once that image played in his head, he had finally shaken himself out of his self-induced trance. He turned, heading towards the door, as he was leaving, he turned towards Tracey, a worried look on her face, he shook his head and seldomly spoke. “I’m sorry ma’am. You’re right, but... I can’t do this.”
Tracey was just about to speak, but the badger was already reaching for the handle.
Once again, she heard him speak, “I’ll be on my way now, goodbye.”
Right before he could open the door, his paw gripping the handle for dear life, he heard the door he was staring at just moments ago start to open. He swiftly turned his head in the direction of the noise as more images started generating in his head. He couldn’t tell he was hyperventilating but he could feel it, and as he was about to pass out from the pressure on his chest getting harder and harder. He felt a large hand clasp his shoulder, and there he saw Dr. Conover, a concerned look plastered on the bear’s face.
“Mrs. Kopps, who is this?” The deep voice of the doctor made the office rumble, and right as Tracey was about to respond, she was quickly interrupted. “Wait! Let me look at my watch,” his movements were hasty. He knew he couldn’t waste any time with this patient.
“Ah! 4:41. Mr. Solomon Filch, I presume. Are you alright, sir? Do you need a hand or a minute to rest?” He knew that Solomon needed help, but he didn’t want to force it onto him. He wanted to give the badger a choice.
“Doc, I can’t do this. I can’t.” Solomon’s response was one that Dr. Conover didn’t want to hear. It was a depressing reminder of what he himself has done in the past. He had heard it all the time, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt him to hear it.
“I’m sorry Mr. Filch, but I can tell that you NEED this. I will not force you but if you could please come sit in my chair. We can work through this. Now please bear in mind, that you can always reschedule. We don’t need to do start today. Hell, we don’t have to start tomorrow... but we have to start eventually.”
Solomon could hear the sincerity in his voice, he also knew that he’d probably say that to every single person that was apprehensive about talking about their lives, but he gave in to the pressure in his chest. He started blinking rapidly, he knew he was about to cry, it was something he didn’t like doing in front of people but he eventually started to bawl uncontrollably, it was something he hadn't one in years, and Dr. Conover could tell.
While Solomon was pouring his emotions out of his eyes, empathy clouded Dr. Conover’s actions as he approached the disheveled badger, getting on one knee, and encasing him in a tight hug. It was the sort of hug a parent would give to their child, a hug that only a parent could give.
With a clear of her throat, Tracey gained the attention of the doctor. “You guys want me t’give ya some space,” she asked quietly not wanting to disturb the situation in front of her, but it was too late. When the doctor noticed what he was doing, he released Solomon, and with a clear of his own throat, he spoke.
“No, Mrs. Kopps, you can stay right there,” he then turned his attention to Solomon. “Mr. Filch, are you ready to come into my office?” His voice was about as friendly, and reassuring, as he could get it.
Solomon wasn’t exactly sure if he was ready mentally, but he knew that it was finally time to get the help that he needed, and so with a pinch of nervousness, but mostly clarity, he spoke. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
And with that Dr. Conover led Solomon to his office. Where he will hopefully get the help he so desperately needed.