"Why the hell are you sending me to therapy?!"

Jerry raised a brow "You make it sound like it's a bad thing,"

Danny crossed his arms and leaned back on the passenger's seat. "I don't need therapy."

Jerry gave a dry laugh as he turned the car to the corner, "Danny, it's been over three months and you still don't remember anything about your life, you had a panic attack at school in science when they pulled out a scalpel to dissect frogs and you still don't know why." Jerry eyed Danny. "You also grabbed all the frogs, the already dead frogs by the way and buried them." Jerry looked back at the road "And you don't know why about that either."

Danny opened his mouth to protest then closed it.

Jerry stopped the car at a red light. "You've... sorta made some friends. But the only one you go out and do anything with is Jack freak'en Frost who has been dead longer than you and me were alive."

The light turned green and Jerry pushed the gas pedal "And yeah, Jack is a pretty cool dude-"

"Cool, you say?"

Jerry groaned "Stop." He took deep breath "-But the bottom line is that you only have him as a close friend."

Jerry turned the wheel "Come to think of it, the only people I see you enjoying company with are in one way or another, older people. And even then, for the most part they've been through some pretty messed up stuff."

Danny made a face, "Wha- how so?!"

Jerry held his hand "Ok one, I'm a cop. I see some pretty messed up shit," He held up two fingers "Jossey is a doctor and a surgeon at that, pretty sure that's self-exclamatory." Jerry held up three fingers "And three, I don't know what stuff Jack went through. But if my numbers are right, he's seen both world wars, seen a number of poverty and political issues, and seen a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really want to think about right now,"

Jerry eased into the parking space. "Yeah, kid? You're going to therapy."

Danny grumbled as he opened the car door, "What am I going to tell this guy anyways? It's not like I remember my," Danny made a rainbow gesture over his head. "'traumatic childhood'. Or whatever."

Jerry also got out of the car and slammed the car door behind him, "You're going to tell the psychologist whatever the psychologist asks. That includes 'I don't know'."

Danny looked less than happy, but didn't argue.

. . .

"Hello, Danny Fenton." The woman held out her hand, "I'm Doctor Rose Claudel, but, just call me Rose."

Danny leaned back on the chair. His eyes analyzing the psychologist with cutting edge. Slowly, he shook her hand.

"Okay then." She lifted a ring and ribbon, "I'm going to hide these, alright? And before this is over, I'm going to need you tell me where they are before this session ends."

Danny crossed his arms and sulked deeper into his chair.

Rose got up and glance at Danny, "You don't seem to want to be here."

"No duh. How the hell is this supposed to help? It's not like I remember some epic traumatic experience. If there was one. And you're not even doing the right thing! I don't have constant amnesia," Danny turned around to where she was hiding the ribbon between two jackets "We have nothing to discuss."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that."

Danny raised a brow.

Rose walked back to her desk and placed the ring at the top drawer. "You were Homeless for, what, a month? No memory, no family. Not even records."

Danny shifted in his chair, lips tight.

Rose sat down, "From what I've been told, you have dreams. I don't know about what, but that alone could take the whole hour and half,"

She settled in her chair, "Then, of course, there was the incident with the frogs."

Danny frowned.

She nodded towards the coat rack with the first hidden item, "And this is just a precaution."

Rose paused. "What was it like, being homeless?"

Danny blinked, "Not beating around the bush, are we?"

She shook her head. "You don't seem to be the type. However, if you wish to talk about something else-"

"no... no this is..." Danny took a deep breath, "this is fine."

Rose leaned back, waiting.

"What, no drilling?" Danny asked.

Rose shook her head, "No. Just a place to talk with someone who isn't too close and won't take what you have to say personally."

She gestured him to go on. And waited patiently.

"... I was always hungry."

Rose shifted, listening.

"I was terrified too, I..." Danny took a deep breath, and rubbed his face with both hands. "God this is so messed up."

He dragged his hands off his face. "I didn't know where I was, who I was. I- I didn't know anything. I didn't know if the next 'meal' I dug up by the garbage was going to make me sick, I didn't know if- if I was losing my damn mind!" Danny decided it was best not to mention the dream sand or tooth's fairies that roamed the streets in the dark.

Danny looked down, "and- I dunno, I kind avoided everyone at that time." He looked back up. "Everything felt so strange. And sometimes I would remember something. Or, thought I did. It would be a flash, a smell..." Danny swallowed, "A dream."

Danny shook his head, as if lost in thought. "But dreams aren't memories, are they? Just, echoes of the subconscious. Pieces you couldn't pull together when awake. Jumbles from a long day. They're not true, just the pieces you left behind. For better or worse."

Rose pause and shrugged, "I don't know. Or really, I don't remember. I wish I did, sometimes. But I don't."

"Yeah." Danny huffed, "That's what a lot of people tell me."

Rose seemed to analyze him. "You're too good at this, and you don't even realize it."

Danny raised his brows, both amused and curious, "Good at what, exactly?"

"This whole discussion, you didn't actually tell me much about yourself." Rose said, "Yeah, you told me that you had dreams, but by from what you just said, you told lots of people that you have dreams, and that they're not the issue.

Rose folded her arms on the table "And it seems that a lot of people already knew about that you were homeless, and even the dimmest of people can put the one and one together that you weren't happy or in a good place, so you don't bother hiding that either. You're too clever to."

Rose stared at Danny dead in the eye. "The shuffling, the head shaking, the movements. These were learned movements. You're not processing what you were saying, you're not affected. You don't actually feel what you're telling me, you're just telling me what I want to hear so I can get off your case. And do you want to know what the worst part is?"

She leaned forward, "You don't even know you're doing it. This is a learned skill. Somewhere along the way, you became so numb to what you're saying because quite frankly it was the only reason you could survive whatever you had to pull through. And I know you went through something. You hide your arms, tug the hem of your shirt, you pull down your sleeves and you don't realize it. You probably have some scars under that red hoodie, don't you?"

Danny pulled away from her and gripped his arms with tight fingers in mute horror.

Rose face soften. "But it wasn't your fault, was it? It never really is in these cases. You had something you needed to hide, and this was the result of it."

Rose glanced at the clock above the door then back at Danny. "We have a few minutes left, anything you want to add?"

Danny shot up with shaky legs "The ring is in your drawer, and the ribbon is between the two jackets."

In stiff movements and arms tight by his side, Danny walked out the room, and slammed the door behind him.