FicWad

“How do you feel about that?” … More like “How cliché is that?” In my line of work clichés are evident everywhere, but they simply cannot be helped. I’d like to think that the patients were helped instead, but sadly, no. Well, at least not when they’re treated by me. No-one seemed to get better, that’s why I was so determined, nay, adamant to see Gerard get better.

“Now, Gerard, how do you feel about that?” I shuddered. How do you feel about that? I knew how I knew how it made me feel, it made me feel sick with my psychiatry. It was cheesy and he would’ve called me on it, but he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

“I feel as if I’m being crushed, I guess” Join the club, I thought. His weak attempt to reply allowed me to sympathize with him. He’s a sweet guy, he just loses control, or rather, Frank loses control.

“Crushed”, I sigh, I knew what he meant, “And what do you mean by that?”

“Well”, His answer, almost a plea, formed on his tongue, “I feel as if he’s taken over, I can’t cope without him, but I can’t control him”

I had to ask him the meaning, in medicine making an assumption because someone has implied something can lead to dire consequences, especially in psychiatry and life threatening situations. Even more so when the two mix. Knowing that he couldn’t cope, I still asked, his admittance to this could only lead to him being helped, right?

“I see, would you care to tell me what happens when Frank ‘takes over’, so to speak” I tread carefully.

“It’s as if he … I don’t know … He … He just takes over” He shrugs, feeling defeated.

“Why don’t you explain the process to me?” It’s all I need to know, knowing this I could help him, “A brief explanation, that’s all”

“You can’t help, he won’t let you” His temper seemed to flare, or rather an emotion flickered. I’m not sure what it was, which doesn’t hold well when you consider that I’m a psychiatrist.

“All I need to know is what happens, what makes Frank … appear” I sighed, I wasn’t getting anywhere.

“You can’t help … You can’t help … You can’t help … You can’t help … You can’t help … You can’t help …” He was crying by now. His cries echoed around the room, his face had washed out, his sobs and moans combined.

Suddenly, he stopped. I’d attempted to help him but it happened so suddenly, his head snapped towards me and a grin appeared on his face. His voice became high pitched and a small giggle emitted from him “Shall I tell you instead?”

“Frank?” I asked, a little hesitantly. I knew from Gerard that Frank had a temper, and had been warned that I should stay on my toes if ever I met him. At first I was stunned, unable to think, this was the first time I’d met Frank. I’d only known Gerard a few weeks, and it looked like I was about to spend some quality time with a man my client referred to as “Mr. Iero”.

“So … How’re you?” I titter, a little nervously.

“Me? I’m good … You upset him … Why?” A blunt statement.

“I didn’t mean to … I just want to help him …” I’d become timid, it was unprofessional but couldn’t be helped. His face twisted into a shameless grin.

“You want to get rid of me” I struggled to hear, he’d only whispered. The smile was still plastered on his face, looking creepier than before.

“Pardon?” I tried, not wanting to set off his temper.

“You want to separate us … or make us one; I’m not sure what you do. We’re good as we are. We’re good. It’s not our fault.” He seemed slightly desperate.

“I’m not sure you understand, not really, it isn’t the two of you. It’s only one … You’re not “Frank and Gerard” … You’re “Gerard”. Frank, you’re only a part of him, you’re not him” Maybe I’d struck a little low, but he seemed to react well. He sat there mumbling to himself, making sure I could only catch glimpses.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you” He muttered, “Not just one, two” was all I could catch.

I tried to reignite the conversation “Frank?”

“Yes?”

“You were going to explain how you … Emerge” It was like extracting teeth, but I managed it.

“I … It starts when”, He looked confused, he seemed dumbfounded, “I’m not too sure really … Gee gets angry, really angry at times, he just can’t show his anger. I think that’s where I come in … When he’s angry or upset”

“So … You appear when he has a strong emotion?”

“No … Not always, sometimes I just take control of the steering wheel, if you will, for the sake of it”, He chuckled, “He couldn’t cope without me, he needs me, I protect him”

I was beginning to grasp what had happened, I just couldn’t figure out when. Was it something that happened to him, did that tip him over the edge? Had his traumatic times led to his dual personality? Did he have a chemical imbalance? Too much dopamine? It all came down to the ongoing debate … Nature or nurture? Whatever questions I asked had to be quick, I wasn’t sure how long I still had with Frank.

“Frank …” I tried to continue but was interrupted.

“Frankie, call me Frankie”, He smiled, he seemed to be warming up to me, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure” A little bit of role reversal couldn’t hurt, surely.

“Do you believe in magic?” He snorted.

“Nope … I’m more of a practical man myself” I couldn’t help but wonder where this question was leading.

“I believe in magic” He nodded solemnly, “Do you ever think that your patients might not be crazy, like you think we are, do you ever wonder if some higher power is in control?”

“I guess not … I think that a condition, such as the one you have all comes down to either a chemical imbalance, family history or occasionally the way you were nurtured.”

“So what’s the prognosis, Doc?” He seemed to sneer.

“Well, you know that your history is burdened with what can only be called tragedy” I felt patronising, but I didn’t know any other way of saying it.

The grin left his face, he seemed worried, confused. My time with him had ended, I knew. Gerard slumped back onto the couch, a defeatist attitude clearly upon him. He sighed, turning himself slowly to face me.

“So … How’d you like Frankie?” It was a joke, but neither of us laughed.

“Right … I think your hours up; do you want me to call someone to walk back to the ward with you?” I took control, not waiting for an answer. Picking up the phone I dialled through to reception asking for someone to come and collect him.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and a nurse came through. As she left she took Gerard with her. Slouching back into my chair I let out a sigh, I had a lot of work on my hands with this one.