[ Tim’s been coming here every summer since he was a teenager. Every year, the rooms seem to shift a little bit, but he does know where he’s going, and finds Will’s office without issue. He's wearing short shorts and a tank top with plenty of chest hair poking through, and some live bites (and just plain bite marks) visible on his neck and shoulders. So what? It’s summer. ]

Hi. [ Taking the sunglasses from his face and folding them closed, hanging them on the front of his tank. ] Um, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.

[ This is good. It’s the new millennium, it’s a perfectly normal and healthy thing for a man to go to therapy. It doesn’t make him crazy, but he feels crazy, like everything that’s been bottled up over the last couple months (decades) is about to come loose with enough force to level the entire manor. And that can’t happen. Maybe this can help. ]

I’ve done this a couple times before but it was, uh. Court-appointed. I wasn’t taking it seriously. But I want to, now.