The last few months flashed through his head in quick short bursts. He laughed quietly as the thoughts about her turned from completely primal to something else. He still couldn't think of how to explain how he felt. It had gone from how her body felt against his, how fucking her let out all anger and frustration, to the way when she slept she had a slow small smile on her face, how when she would kiss him her fingers threaded through his hair. He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking this stuff. At least that's what his parent told him. Though he didn't see why not. There was no blood relation between them at all.

He knew she wasn't the only reason he was on his way, with his father, to this psychologists office. His father had seen the cuts. The personal 'battle wounds' he had built up over the years. At that thought he looked down at his arm. There werent many. Some were deep some werent. He wasn't the type you would think to do this. It had really all started as an accident. He had slipped and cut his finger when he was cutting a piece of cake. He realized the pain in his chest and head had eased with the pain bleeding from his finger. It had been months before he tried to see if it would happen again, on purpose. He wasn't ashamed of them though. Each one told a story about hardships he had gone through in his life. He wore them like a medal. He hadent even done it since the first time they were together. He didn't need his trusty razor blade when he had this very special girl.

He then noticed his father was droning on about how dissapointing it was to see him set this example to his little brother and sisters. That first of all the cutting. His father didn't understand how hurting yourself could make the pain disapear. He didn't care about that. His dad kept talking about how he really could of hurt himself. Killed himself. No matter how many times he told his father he never made them deep enough, hard enough, to kill himself. That it was never his intention and he didn't want to die. But in one ear out the other. The second point his father brought up was 'the relationship'. That was what his father was calling it. How it was a horrible thing and could never happen. What would people say? But he didn't care. His father didn't care he loved her. The rawest, purest, most primal, of relationships had turned into love.

Through out his fathers rambleing he stayed quiet. He had spoken his piece. Many times over. Both of them had. But yet again in one ear out the other. Not even a bat of an eye on how they felt. Just the rules. Never alone. Never to go anywhere, ever again. Never to be in eachothers rooms. He was surprised they hadnt said they couldn't talk, or look at each other. But as long as she didn't get shipped off to her father, like the original plan when they found out, he was okay with the rules. He would take being around her at least to nothing.

His father finally pulled into the parking lot and he jumped out of the car. Not being able to stand the close quarters with his father. He walked into the building and his father went to the desk, checking him in. Soon a old lady came and told him the doctor could see him now. He stood and went to follow her. He noticed his dad standing too.

"No I don't want you to come." He said simply and walked through the door. His dad stood there in shock.

The nurse looked at him frowning a bit, "Im sorry but since hes sixteen, if he doesn't want you in there you can't come." She said shutting the door on him. He sulked back to his seat sitting down.

The young man took a seat on the couch, laughing. He didn't actually think shrinks had couches in their offices. He looked up as the doctor walked in and sat at his desk.

"Hello Mr. Venturi. Im Dr. Brown." He said smiling at the teenager in front of him.

Derek looked at him and crossed his arms relaxing in the couch. "Okay, well would you like to tell me why you're here?" Dr. Brown asked. Derek raised his eyebrow. "I mean what events lead you to have to come talk to someone?" He tried again. Still nothing. "Okay how about you just start from the beginning." Dr. Brown said hoping that if he mentioned a place to start Derek would start talking.

"What beginning? When I first started cutting? Or when I started sleeping with my STEP-sister." Derek said leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.