The Terrible, Awful, No Good Dupe

[Oliver Basille]

"Would you please just go back in?" It was the fifth, maybe sixth time that Oliver had pleaded for his stubborn duplicate to just make his way back into Ollie's mind rather than gallivanting around freely when they had an appointment with their psychologist/guidance counselor. The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted frequently about how he was misinterpreting all of James' antics and the way he was 'helping' Oliver. He couldn't stand the constant back and forth of their bickering when it was out loud, he'd grown used to ignoring his duplicate when he was just complaining internally.

However, the look on James' face said that he was going to continue being stubborn and had decided he wanted to be able to speak his own mind rather than Oliver trying to speak it for him. "I bet you'd like that, having just one on one time with Dr. Fitzpatrick. How d'you think I feel? I'd like one on one time with him too, but instead my one on one time is on a fuckin' video diary. That you interrupt nearly every time." The duplicate gave a shrug of his shoulders and nodded in the general direction of one of Ollie's classmates.

"Can you stop doing that? You don't know them any better than I do. Fine. You can stay out, but, you can't talk over me. I can't....I can't handle it when you do that," Just the thought of it had Ollie's hands clenching by his sides. His anxiety was through the roof every time they had an appointment to talk about what was going on with him. Usually it was just the same, James was making his life hell and making him want to...well, he couldn't place what he was going to do if he kept getting pushed by his duplicate.

James gave a firm nod and a salute, his lazy smirk clearly marking his sarcasm. They both stopped in front of the door and James waved his hand, gesturing for Ollie to do his thing. Oliver nodded and knocked one,...two three...four times in the same pattern he always did. The compulsion had been formed from the sort of comfort he drew from the way it reminded him of a steady heartbeat. It was the same comfort he'd gained from learning to play the drums. "Dr. Fitzpatrick, it's Oliv-...."

"Dude, I think he knows who it is after the weird knock thing you do," James rolled his eyes and opened the door, barging in and lazily plopping himself down in one of the chairs that was across the desk from their therapist. "Mornin' Doc."

[Lincoln Fitzpatrick]

If Lincoln was cold enough to consider any of his clients interesting, Oliver and James would likely skyrocket to the top of that list. However, he wasn't quite that cynical and he didn't consider the boy and his duplicate some kind of project. Even so, if anyone needed therapy, it surely was Oliver. The boy had enough on his plate as it was, but adding a duplicate who'd developed a feeling of self on top of it?

The knocks had Lincoln looking up from his computer. Eyebrows furrowed slightly at the muffled voices outside. Were they fighting again? Opening his mouth to tell the boys to come inside, he was interrupted by the door suddenly opening and, who he figured to be James, stepped inside and plopped down in one of the empty seats. Lincoln's eyes immediately moved towards Oliver, offering the boy something of a smile.

"Good morning to you too, James," he nodded towards the boy sitting, before once again looking towards Oliver. "Oliver." The boys were likely, by far, the only ones Lincoln referred to by their first names. It was just easier than calling them both 'Mr. Basille." It got easily confusing.

[Oliver Basille]

Watching the way James just barged in, Oliver couldn't help the disgust he held for his duplicate. James was always so inconsiderate of everyone else and Oliver often felt like he was constantly apologizing for that. Dr. Fitzpatrick was luckily used to his duplicate's antics and his smile offered brief comfort to Ollie in the moment before he turned his attention to James who was reaching to touch something that was sitting on the desk. Oliver stared at his duplicate's hand and willed him not to break anything. Of course, while he was out on his own, James had free rein to do whatever he pleased. However, when Lincoln spoke, they both looked up at him in unison, James retracting his hand and Oliver taking a step into the room.

James glanced back over his shoulder at Oliver and rolled his eyes, "Y'know Ollie, it's rude to hover. Come pop a squat next to dear ol' Jamie." He patted the chair beside him and did Vanna White hand gestures as if he were selling the seat to Ollie for a reasonable price. Ollie's stomach sank as he looked at the chair, he didn't feel comfortable sitting in it, let alone next to James who was likely going to make matters worse for him. He opted for standing nearby, rather than sitting. This way he could pace if he needed to, without feeling confined to the chair.

Clearing his throat, Oliver glanced up at the older man behind the desk, this was normal for them, even if James' presence wasn't. They had a routine of things and the way they want about them which was what Oliver needed. Routine was something that he obsessed over and any break in the routine could cause a meltdown of sorts. Already having James out of his head was causing Oliver's palms to sweat and his heart to beat frantically. He was nervous, even though he knew it wasn't going to make much of a difference with the way things were happening. "H-how've you been, Mr. Fitzpatrick?"

James groaned and threw his head back, "How've you been? Is this session about how he's been? No, it's about us. We've got problems, he doesn't." The irritation that James lashed out with was very common to Oliver in a private setting. He was always so angry with Ollie, even though it was Ollie who had more of a right to be angry. And yet, Oliver was always so soft-spoken in comparison to his abrasive counterpart. And even now as James barked at him, all he could do was wince away from it and remain silent.