They drove in silence, William holding his tongue and, he hoped, the contents of his stomach. Buffy was a speed demon, and apparently she had no idea where the brake was or what it was used for. He gripped the door handle so tightly his knuckles were white. When they arrived at the building, she found the brakes and applied them with the same lead foot.
Thank God for bloody seatbelts.
William's body lurched forward involuntarily, but the seatbelt locked him in place, causing him to fall back against the seat. If he wasn't dizzy before, he sure as fuck was now; however, he was going to remain silent. She was kind enough to bring him. When he got out of the car, he leaned against it for a moment to steady himself. Buffy was beside in an instant.
"I'm sorry if my driving was a little rusty. I haven't driven in a year or so," she said, putting her arm around his waist as they walked.
"No, pet, you were fine. I needed a little excitement," William said, putting his arm around her, not being able to resist a little jab.
"Hush, you," Buffy said, playfully swatting his chest. "What floor is he on?"
"Fourth." They stood in front of the elevators, and one couldn't come quick enough for William. He felt like his whole body was shaking, and he wanted a drink more than anything. If he didn't know better he'd think he was going into withdrawals.
Except, he realized, that's exactly what this was.
Buffy squeezed his waist. "I'll get you there as quickly as I can. You're really starting to frighten me. I'm sure the doctor will be able to take care of everything."
William squeezed her shoulder and planted a kiss on her the top of her head. "I think I know what this is."
She looked up at him as they stepped into the elevator. William pressed the number four button and answered her. "I'm pretty sure this is my body's way of telling me it's really hacked off that I've not given it any alcohol in two days."
Buffy's mouth opened and closed, and she blinked, wide-eyed. "Wow, what's the longest amount of time you've gone without alcohol?"
William frowned and looked away as the doors opened. "I honestly can't remember, love."
Buffy opened the door to the doctor's office. "Well, you have a seat. You're here now, so the doctor can take care of you."
William watched her march up to the reception area and let them know he was there. They gave her some paperwork and a pen. Then she came back to sit next to him. "I'm going to fill these out for you, because your hands are shaking too badly for you to do it properly. I need your insurance card, and I need you to answer the questions for me. All right?"
He leaned to the side and fished his wallet out of his back pocket then handed her the insurance card. "All right. I'll tell you anything you need to know. Fire away."
It took Buffy about twenty minutes to complete the forms then she returned them to the front desk with William's insurance card. Thankfully, the waiting room wasn't crowded, and the staff had been made aware of his circumstances, so he was called to a room within ten minutes. The nurse did all of the usual things and asked him some questions, then told him the doctor would be in shortly.
In a matter of minutes, a portly, gray-haired man with large black-framed glasses came into the room. He came over and proffered his hand. "Hello, I'm Doctor Sal Giardone. My son-in-law says you need my help. How are you feeling?"
William grasped his hand shakily then released it. "William, and yes I need your help. I'm afraid not very well at the moment. As I told your nurse, I—I believe I'm going into alcohol withdrawal. I don't remember the last time I didn't have at least one drink a day, but I was drinking heavily for a few months until a couple of weeks ago. I cut down to three drinks a day with no problems, but I haven't had a drink since Saturday night."
Doctor Giardone looked at him carefully and asked, "What happened Saturday night?"
William took a deep breath and a shiver ran down his spine as he explained the circumstances.
The doctor looked over his chart while he listened. "William, it says here you have a history of alcoholism in your family. Do you realize you're an alcoholic?"
He nodded somberly and said, "Yes, yes sir. I do know I'm an alcoholic, but I want to be sober. Can you help me?"
Doctor Giardone put his hand on William's shoulder and squeezed. "I can help you, but only if you help yourself. I can give you medicine to get you through the delirium tremens—the withdrawal symptoms—but you need to address your reasons for drinking on your own with the aid of my son-in-law. You're the only one who can stop drinking. No one can make you. Are you going to do that?"
William closed his eyes and swallowed to keep the tears at bay. "Yes, I'm going to do my damnedest."
Dr. Giardone smiled and patted his shoulder. "Good. That's what I like to hear. Now, I'm going to give you some medication to help with the DTs. It will calm you down and relax you. I see the list of medications you're on, and they won't interfere with what I'm prescribing."
He got out his pad and began to write. "Do you have somebody to drive you home and stay with you?"
William nodded, and the doctor finished writing.
"I'm going to give you a half dose to take now, that will help with the jitters while you chat with my son-in-law," he said, reaching into a drawer in his desk.
He handed William half a blue pill and a small cup of water. William swallowed the pill, and the doctor continued speaking.
"As soon as you're done with your appointment, take the other half dose, and when you get home, I want you to take one full pill each hour until you're asleep. Let your friend give them to you. If you need more than four to fall asleep, I suggest you check into a hospital."
William frowned. "No bloody hospitals."
Dr. Giardone smiled. "Then do your best to fall asleep," he said. "Thereafter, you can take up to four a day as needed, and you should be fine in a couple of days. If not, come back to see me, and regardless, I want to see you back here next week."
William nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. He felt as though a boulder was lifted from his back. "I can't begin to thank you, Doctor."
The doctor just gave him a small smile. "I haven't done anything but help you with your withdrawal symptoms. You have to do the hard work. Take care, Mr. Elliston, and I look forward to seeing a better you very soon." He stood and motioned for William to walk out with him. "Just go to that window, and Katrina will check you out and make an appointment for next week. Take Care."
William turned as he was walking and said, "You do the same, Doctor Giardone."
He checked out and Katrina gave him an appointment card and told him there was a pharmacy on the first floor where he could fill his prescription. Buffy was in the waiting room when he returned and seemed elated to see him, but at the same time, he could tell by her look she was worried.
"Hi, you ready to go?" he asked, with a note of confusion.
Buffy took his hand and tilted her head as if she were waiting on something. "You seem a little less anxious. Did everything go well? Does he know what's wrong? Is that a prescription?"
William guessed she either didn't hear him or was going to ignore his question.
"I feel better having my suspicions confirmed, even though I still feel like utter shite, I was right. My body is right pissed off that it's not getting any alcohol, so it's rebelling, but he gave me a prescription for some medication to help with that. There's a pharmacy on the first floor, so I thought we could pop down and drop off the prescription before my therapy. We can talk more about it when we have a bit of privacy. That all right?"
Buffy turned to face him and put her hand on his waist. "Listen. Why don't you go to the therapist's office and have a seat while I run this down to the pharmacy. I can get you a drink and a snack. Eating something will make you feel better. It's two fifteen right now. I'm sure I can get everything and be back by two forty. You don't feel well, and you need to rest."
William looked at her and half smirked "Yes, Nanny Buffy. I'll do whatever you say. Just don't put me in the naughty chair."
Buffy gasped then rolled her eyes and began to gently tug him toward the hallway. "God, you feel so bad you can barely stand, yet still manage to come up with this jackassery." She leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked toward the therapist's office and brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles.
William looked down at her with his eyebrows raised. "Jackassery. That new in OED this year, or is that a Buffy original?"
Buffy gave him a look of mock exasperation then smiled. "Sometimes I...Who am I kidding. I'd be terrified if you were completely amiable."
William chuckled and squeezed her hand. "You're right. You know, I think you secretly love the fact that I'm bit of an arse."
Buffy just shook her head as if to say he'd lost his mind.
They found the office and went inside to small waiting area with a loveseat, two club chairs, and coffee table stacked with assorted magazines. William sat down on the loveseat and started flipping through the magazines.
"I'm just gonna leave you here. I'll be back as quickly as I can." Buffy turned and walked out the door.
There was a current Esquire and some travel magazines, but there were a lot of old editions of what looked like comic magazines called Wizard. William just leaned back against the cushions and closed his eyes. He pictured a huge vodka tonic with a twist of lime. It sounded heavenly to him. He needed to think about other things, that was just increasing his heart rate.
Buffy knew he was in withdrawals from the alcohol, but he didn't know if she'd deduced he was an alcoholic. She'd obviously never been anywhere near a situation like this. He wondered if she should just come right out and say it to her when she got back or wait until later. What he really wanted to do was get the fucking medicine, go home, and get in bed, not wait for some sodding therapist who kept comic book magazines in his waiting room. Bloody Hell!
He must have lost track of time, because the door opened and Buffy waltzed in carrying a white paper bag. He looked at his watch, and it was only two thirty.
"Hi, I got us a couple sandwiches," she said holding up the bag. "Your prescription won't be ready for another thirty minutes, and there was a deli, so I just got something to eat. I know you've not had anything since breakfast, and it will make you feel better, plus you don't need to take the medicine on an empty stomach." She came over and sat beside him taking out the sandwiches and digging in her purse for two bottles of Coke. "Which do you want, ham and cheddar or chicken salad?"
William was a little taken aback, though he didn't know why he should be. She was a take-charge kind of person, and she was taking charge of caring for him. He put his hand on her knee and leaned over to give her a chaste kiss. "You're bloody brilliant, love. I'll have the ham and cheddar if you don't mind, and pass me a Coke before I keel over from thirst."
Buffy just stared him as if entranced for a moment. She smiled slightly and ducked her head, as her cheeks flooded with color. "Well, it's just a sandwich and a Coke. It's not like I prepared a seven course meal you know."
He took his sandwich and began to unwrap it. "I know, but it's the thought behind it that matters, and you, sweetheart, are one of the most thoughtful people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." William opened his drink and took a long swallow, and winked at her, daring her to deny his words.
Buffy was about to speak when the interior door opened. A young woman about twenty-five walked out. A few moments later a man about William's age with slightly shaggy, dark brown hair came out. He was wearing baggy khakis and a garish salmon-colored Hawaiian shirt adorned with volcanoes and hula girls. He had a goofy grin on his face and walked toward them with an outstretched hand.
"Hi, I'm Alex Harris." He looked at William and said, "I'm guessing you're William, because she really doesn't fit the picture I had in my mind. It's the hair. All wrong for a William."
Buffy giggled and spoke up. "I'm Buffy Summers, William's assistant. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Harris."
The therapist laughed and said, "Oh, no, please call me Alex. Mr. Harris is my father, and we're completely different people." He cleared his throat and looked to William. "William, it's nice to put face with a name. I hope my father-in-law was able to get you situated. Why don't you come on back and we can chat for a little while. We won't play the whole course today, because I know you're not feeling up to par." He sniggered and held the door open for William. "Guess you're not a golfer."
William walked into Alex's office and stood looking around the room. Bookshelves were lined with what looked like toys to him, and rows of comics in plastic sleeves. Who the hell was this berk? "Where would you like me to sit?" he asked, looking at his choices, the ratty recliner, or the battered sofa with a hundred throw pillows.
Alex clapped him on the back. "Have a seat on the sofa, man. Make yourself comfortable. Tell me what I can do you for. You're from England, right? What took you away from the Mother country?"
William pushed several throw pillows to the side and sat down awkwardly, holding one in his lap. "Thanks, I'm here about my drinking, and yes I'm from England. I've been here less than a year. I'm a writer, and my book was published here, so I thought it would be best to be here in the States." He closed his eyes and waited for the other man to speak.
Alex leaned forward in his chair with his hands on his knees. "You said you were here about your drinking. What is it about your drinking that makes you think you need therapy?"
"Because I'm bloody alcoholic, just like my God damn arse of a father! Is that good enough for you? Did I share enough?" William's voice had risen at the beginning, but was now quiet and mocking.
Alex's expression was implacable. "Anger is an appropriate emotion. You have every right to feel it. Don't deny yourself that anger, but you need to turn it into something positive, so you don't hurt those who care about you and want to help you, like that lovely woman sitting in my waiting room. You don't want to hurt her, do you?"
William gripped the pillow so tightly he thought it might tear into pieces. "No, of course I don't want to hurt her. She's the main reason I'm here. I want to be a better person for her."
Alex shook his head and gave a humorless chuckle. "William, you're never going to get anywhere doing anything for anyone else. You have to do this for yourself. You have to believe you're worthy of this and worthy of her, or it's not going to work."
William ran shaking hands over his face and through his hair. "Jesus, what are you, Therapy Man, able shrink heads in a single session? I understand that. Just tell me what to do for Christ's sake."
He rubbed his hands together and looked William in the eye. "Today, I want you to go home, take your medication, and come back and see me on Thursday and Friday at one o'clock. Can you do that?" Alex asked, pointedly.
William nodded tiredly. "Yes, I can. I'm sorry for being an arse," he said, as he stood and made his way over to the door.
Alex opened it for him and said, "Not a problem, guy. We all have crappy days. See you Thursday." He looked to Buffy, who had gathered their things. "He's all yours. Take good care of him."
Buffy smiled and took William's arm. "I will. I promise."
As soon as they were in the hall his shoulders sagged. "Let's just go get my prescription and go home."
Buffy rubbed his back in concentric circles. "You don't have to worry about that. I picked it up while you were in with the thera—Alex. You can just have your sandwich, a hot shower, and get into bed when we get home."
William lifted his arm, putting it around her shoulders and pulling her close to kiss the top of her head. "I don't know what I would do with out you. Let's go."
He hoped she wouldn't ask about the therapy, but he knew better than to hope. He did know she wouldn't push him on it though.
William took the other half dose as soon as they got to the car. They drove for a while in companionable silence until Buffy spoke. "So you haven't said anything, but I was wondering how your session went."
William rubbed his temple with his right hand. "Well, I'm not quite sure. He's a bit of an anorak. He—"
Buffy interrupted him. "A what? "
William laughed a little. "A nerd or a geek. He had all these action figures and comic books in his office. It was bloody strange."
Buffy smiled and rolled her eyes. "Well, besides that, Mister Judgey, what did you think?"
William sighed then said, "I guess he was all right, a little goofy, but he seems to know what he's talking about. He wants me to come back Thursday and Friday at one o'clock. So I guess that's where we stand."
Buffy pulled into an empty space and turned the car off. "Well, he seemed very nice to me. I'm glad you at least think he's capable. Now, let's get you upstairs."
William had trouble getting the key in door his hands were shaking so badly. "Listen, I don't feel like eating. I think I just want to take a shower and one of those pills then go to Bedfordshire."
Buffy rubbed his arm. "You go take a shower, and I'll put this stuff away and bring you a glass of milk and a pill. You at least need something to coat your stomach. The pharmacist explained everything to me about the meds, so I got that covered. All right?"
William bowed his head, not knowing quite how to ask what he wanted or what her response would be, but he decided to ask anyway. "Buffy, would you mind lying down with me for awhile. I just want you to be close to me, so I don't have to be alone."
Buffy put her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Yeah, I think I can do that. Just let me get this stuff put away and get changed. I'll see you in a minute."
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Author's Chapter Notes:
If you haven’t read twelve please do so, because I posted yesterday. If you read it; here’s thirteen for your reading pleasure. Thanks to Abby and Diebirchen for the beta. Thanks to Minx Delovely for giving me her honest and valued opinion on things and to Edgehead for the cool banner
Chapter End Notes:
TBC
So what did you think? Were You surprised by the therapist? I know I was when it came to me. I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm still antsy, because the decision I'm waiting on, won't be revealed until tomorrow or Tuesday.
So what did you think? Were You surprised by the therapist? I know I was when it came to me. I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm still antsy, because the decision I'm waiting on, won't be revealed until tomorrow or Tuesday.