Therapy, you can keep all your misery.

Elvis fidgeted nervously outside the Nielson home. "What the f*ck am I doing? Therapy is for crazy people, yeah."
But then again, he was here because of his lover, his very mentally unstable lover. It had taken him a long time to admit to himself he could not handle Zach. He put all he had into taking care of the boy and still he was failing.
He could not do it.
But still, he couldnt leave Zach either, and so he had been forced to try and find an alterior way to go. A way that would keep him with Zach, make him a stronger person, someone who could keep Zach in check.
With a deep breath, he forced himself to knock on the door, his stomach sinking as he waited.

It was only seconds before David Nielsen appeared at the door, looking quite eager for  a second before he realized it was not who he normally expected and was excited for these days; Junious. Still though, he gave a friendly smile to Elvis. He'd seen the boy at gettogethers before and knew he was part of the family.
"How can I help you?" His voice was calm and soothing, making it perfect for his line of work. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair that naturally looked messy as it sat atop his head, smiling at the boy in front of him.

"I need..." He stared at David a moment, his pride slowly crumbling. The man didnt seem as though he would judge, and so with a soft curse, Elvis continued. "Therapy, I need therapy yeah." Faintly he wondered what David had been waiting for, but his nerves were quickly driving those curiosities away.

David gave a slight nod. That was what he had expected. Not like Elvis looked like he needed therapy, but not many people came to David's house for fun, and the boy didn't look like there was anything physically wrong with him, so he figured it must be mental.
"Well, come on in. I don't have any appointments today." His smile was still gentle on Elvis. He always made sure to act completely calm until he knew just what was wrong with the person. Some people would be set off by the tiniest things. He moved inside, ushering Elvis in after him. Hg led the boy to the living room, sitting in a small armchair and gesturing for Elvis to take a seat across from him on the couch. "Make yourself comfortable." He offered.

Elvis snorted softly as he took a seat on the couch, his green eyes looking through David. "I don't think thats possible, but I appreciate it." To be comfortable while knowing your here because there is something wrong is naive.

David simply quirked a smirk at Elvis's comment, and grabbed a notepad and pen from the coffee table I  between them.
"So, you're Elvis, yes?" He'd never spoken to the boy before but his bright red hair and unusual name were not something you could forget. "If you know what you want to say you can go right ahead, but many people don't know how to start so I have questions I can ask to get the conversation started, if you prefer." David nodded lightly, watching Elvis with kind eyes.

"Lively, not Presley, dont get us confused, yeah." He forced a smile, joking in an attempt to make himself feel better . This was for Zach, it had to be good.
"Look, I have Hemophobia. I cant stomach blood, and I cant take anything gorey. I was sheltered most of my life yeah. But my boyfriend, Zach, he wasnt. I dont understand what all happened to him but....Hes like..."
Elvis had to pause, his hand rising to cover his mouth as he felt a bought of nausea hit him. Simply thinking of the things his lover did made him sick, so ill he could hardly stand to move, or breath.
"His into torture, lets put it that way....And I just...I dont know....I cant handle him." He admitted softly, his head dropping forward as he did so. It hurt to say that, because his world revolved around Zach, but it was the truth, and Elvis had come here to make a different reality for himself.

David listened vid listened patiently as Elvis spoke, occasionally writing something down.
"Alright." He put the pen and paper aside, looking over to Elvis. "When you say your boyfriend is into torture, do you mean... Sexual stuff? Things like bondage and whips on occasion? Or do you mean something more... Drastic? Like torturing someone with the intent to kill?" He questioned.

Elvis blinked up at him, his eye brows furrowing as he considered answering the question.
What if he got Zach into trouble.
"Uh...I'd rather not say, yeah." He finally decided to just brush it off, fear of Zach being hauled off to a mental facility keeping him quiet.
"Just know that its bad. Really, really bad." He trailed off, his stomach churning as images flashed through his head, bodys so mutilated he no longer could tell they were human, Zach with blood smeared and caked to him from head to toe.
He had to fight to keep his eyes from watering.

David nodded once more before speaking.
"I'm not forcing you to tell me anything of course, what you say is completely up to you. But I'm just going to remind you, whatever you say to me right now is confidential. Not a word of it will leave this room." He smiled softly before writing on his pad and glancing back to Elvis. "Now, your boyfriend, has he ever attempted to harm you in this way, or is it only other people he hurts?"

"Hes....Hit me before." Elvis's face reflected the hurt he felt, even though he tried to contain it. No one had ever hit him like Zach had. Sure he had been in a couple of fights but nothing had burned him like his lover doing it. "Its not a big deal, im not mad at him." He was supposed to be the stronger of the two, he couldnt take Zach hitting him as though it were the end of the world. "Im just....Im..." He took another moment to gather himself. "Im fine."

"You don't seem fine." David spoke quietly. His voice wasn't judging or condescending, he was simply pointing out a fact. "You seem upset about it. And that's perfectly fine. I know you're a tough guy, Elvis. But even tough guys can be hurt by a lover hitting them. It doesn't seem like Zach is a tiny boy, it probably physically hurt, as well as emotionally. And it's okay if you're not over it."

Elvis stared at David a moment, before he simply shook his head and allowed a soft chuckle to escape him. "Im not a tough guy, my name is f*cking Elvis, and the thought of blood puts me on my ass, yeah." It was funny to think of himself as someone who was 'tough'. He had never thought much of it, he was just himself. It was all he could be. "And you know what? Zach hits f*cking hard yeah. And It did damn hurt me, but I have to get over it for him. So he wont keep...Feeling guilty..." He didnt want that hanging over his lover, Zach needed nothing else bad to float around in his head.

David simply smiled, shaking his head before speaking again.
"So he's hit you before, but he hasn't tortured you, like you say he likes to do to others?" He questioned.

"No. not yet anyways." It was obvious in the way Elvis adverted his gaze that he worried about it. There had been nights when he dreamed of it, laying helplessly on a table while Zach cut into him. He had screamed, unable to wake up he had cried out until Manuel had busted into his room to check on him. It happened frequently, and it strained his relationship with his father because he knew better than to tell the man what was going on.

"Not yet?" David arched an eyebrow. "Are you scared that he will hurt you in the future?"

Elvis stared at David long and hard, his eyes almost unfocused as he pronely looked on.
He was afraid.
He was so afraid he stopped sleeping when he stayed the night with his lover. His fear kept Zach at a distance, it was like always looking over your shoulder and waiting for the day Zach finally snapped.
"Yes." It was almost inaudible but it was there, as easy to see as the gut wrenching horror that had crept over Elvis's face.

David reached forward, his hand resting on Elvis's shoulder softly. It was gentle enough that Elvis could push it off if he minded.
"Elvis, I can try and help you with this, but I think that to solve this problem, you might have to discuss it with your lover himself."

"I cant." His voice broke as he spoke, his heart constricting so fiercely he almost couldnt breath. "Its why Id to come to you, yeah. How can I tell Zach im afraid of him...Do you know how badly that would hurt him? I could never..."

"I understand." David nodded a light frown on his handsome features. And he did. Maybe not this exact situation, but he knew how hard it was to tell a lover something that would hurt them, even if it was killing you inside. "Is there anyone else you know that knows your boyfriend well, maybe even better than you do? A friend of his, maybe, that you could talk to? It could help you understand why he is like he is."

"Uh....Trever...But..." Trever was....Trever was f*cking worse than Zach when it came to having a sick complex for torture. In fact, he had taught Zach his ways.
"There is no way in hell im talking to him, yeah."

David let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
"Well, if he's friends with Trever, at least that explains what kind of torture you're talking about." He noted this mentally. "But if you don't want to talk to your boyfriend, or Trever, the only way I can see to fix this is to get rid of your hemophobia. Conquering fears can be done, but sometimes it can take a long time and sometimes it isn't possible at all. It just depends on the person." David frowned.

This completely zapped Elvis of every ounce of hope he had held onto of fixing this situation. Getting rid of his Hemopobia was impossible, he had been trying for years. No matter what, the site of blood laid him out and the thought assured he would be sick.
"I....Thank you." It was all he could say as he numbly rose from his seat. There was no help for him here, or for that matter, anywhere.

"Elvis..." David spoke up. "I'm going to do everything I can to help your situation. Unfortunately, there isn't much to do." He let out a sigh. He hated when he couldn't help someone.

"Yeah, I know. I didn't think there was much you could do...But for Zach it was worth the try." He would just have to live with it. "Like I said, thanks anyways, yeah." Opening the door, he almost crashed into Junious. The boy sputtered, scowling hatefully at Elvis. "What the f*ck where your going!" He shoved the boy out of the way, stepping in the room only to then turn back as apologize for himself.
Elvis didn't stick around to hear the apology. He trudged his way outside, his head down and his hands tucked into his pockets as he went.