Chapter Six

Dr. Fiddler sat in his office as Milou scurried off to God knows where, off to get her friend. The big question was, what was Dr. Fiddler going to do if Parker did not, in fact, exist (which, he was fairly sure, was what was about to happen)? Better yet, what was he going to do if Parker did exist? It would be evident then that Milou wasn't really schizophrenic- Parker and her insistence were really the only things tying her to the Institution.

He scanned his mind, wondering if he had ever even heard of a case like Milou's. He figured that at this point any clues he could gather or any advice he could get would be good and welcome. He had not a clue what he was about to do.

He decided that, in the mean time, he should keep his hands busy (and thus, hopefully, keep his mind busy) and start framing his certificates. He pulled open one of the long, deep mahogany drawers and pulled out the empty frames and the large yellow envelope filled with his various certifications. He turned the frame over, twisting the knobs and removing the back of the frame. Carefully, he placed the certifications, one by one, into their respective frames, taking care to turn the knobs back in the end. Certificates in place, he turned around and noted the nails he had placed on an earlier visit. He hung up the first certificate carefully, adjusting it so that it hung straight on the nail. He continued on this way for the next ten minutes, feeling fairly certain that Milou was still returning despite her invitation for him to send out the search masses.

In fact- as opposed to being mad or even worried about Milou's prolonged absence, Dr. Fiddler was actually kind of glad she was taking more time that she originally claimed. It left him with time to avoid thinking about what kind of reaction he was about to have.

Loud voices travelled down the corridor, floating in through the doctor's opened door. Dr. Fiddler furrowed his eyebrows- one of them was distinctly masculine and the other was definitely Milou. If Parker did not exist, like the files told him, it would make more sense to hear Milou and only Milou... not this very male sounding voice in addition to hers'.

“Parker. I swear, it'll be good. If he can see you I have the utmost confidence that he will voice this fact.” Milou's voice said in a very know it all voice with a twinge of annoyance.

“But what if he can't, Milou? Nobody else can see me, what makes you think this new doctor is going to be any different? It's an old argument, Milou. I just do not want to set myself up for disappointment yet again.” The masculine voice replied, his voice complimented by a loud smacking noise and a yelp. “Don't hit me!” He continued. Dr. Fiddler could only assume Milou had given him a good smacking. The footsteps stopped.

“Parker. I think you need to lighten up a bit.” She told him, her voice now more serious. “I think you need to realize the world isn't as bad as you think it is. You have me, right?” She finished, her voice soft at this point. Dr. Fiddler had to resist the urge to cover his ears with his palms, feeling as though this should be a private moment between friends. As a therapist, however, he also felt as though he should be listening to the progression of the conversation in an attempt to understand more about his patient.

Though I suppose she really shouldn't be my patient if this Parker guy turns out to exist... He mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully out of habit. I would imagine she want's out of here pretty badly after all these years... and if she's not crazy I really don't see any point in keeping her. He considered, only just noticing the steps were now continuing and gaining in volume.

“It'll be fine.” Milou's voice assured as she stepped into the doorway.

Dr. Fiddler looked up, finding Milou to be standing beside a lanky male form.

Dirty blonde hair graced the top of the man's head, a hand running through the mop almost nervously. Long legs led to a long torso, and the man stood about two heads above tiny Milou.

“Dr. Fiddler?” Milou's voice cut the inspection. “This...” She said carefully, “is Parker.”

Dr. Fiddler figured it to be a fitting name for the man, who appeared to be just slightly younger than Milou, though that might be due to the stresses she encountered every day. Dr. Fiddler figured an existence in which few people could see him might be annoying, though significantly less stressful.

Dr. Fiddler looked Parker in the eyes, feeling it best to just get the thing over and done with and admit that he could see him.

“It's nice to meet you, Parker.” He greeted, holding the eye contact with a bit of difficulty. Parker's eyebrows raised and his mouth dropped.

“You can see me?” He asked, holding a hand over his chest in shock. “Actually? You're not just pretending?”

“Actually.” The doctor confirmed, a bit wearily. He was kind of beginning to doubt his own sanity, truth be told. This place might not be good for him after all... “Which is kind of worrying, truth be told.” He admitted, fiddling with the papers on his desk.

Parker nodded while Milou scoffed. Dr. Fiddler looked up to address her sound of disapproval.

“I'm sure you understand, Milou, that seeing someone who most can't could possibly be an unnerving experience.” He explained, making a tent of his fingers. Milou rolled her eyes.

“Are you sure they can't see him?” She asked. Dr. Fiddler nodded, the action absolute.

“Positive. You wouldn't be here otherwise, Milou. Dr. Diaz sounded to be quite fond of you if his notes are any indication.” He informed her. He wasn't quite sure he was even allowed to give out that information, but he did anyway. He figured she probably wasn't going to tattle on him.

Milou nodded, though Dr. Fiddler figured it was just because she didn't want to argue out of thanks to the gods that someone could see her friend.

“So what are we going to do about this?” Parker asked, leaning against the wall he was standing in front of. Milou turned to face him, looking up to his face.

“What do you mean, what are we going to do? This,” At the word Milou made a wide sweeping action with her arms. “this, is my ticket out of here.” She told him, a grin spreading across her face. Dr. Fiddler frowned, as did Parker.

“Milou, I don't think you quite understand.” Parker told her. Milou narrowed her eyes.

“What don't I understand about this, Parker? He can see you. That confirms you're real. That means I'm not crazy, which means I can get out. This is great.” She finished, jumping once upon completion of her sentence. Dr. Fiddler's heart hurt just a little looking at her. Parker looked the same way.

“Not quite that easy, Mee.” Parker corrected. “That would be playing with Dr...” His voice trailed off and he looked up to Dr. Fiddler for his name. The doctor realized then that they hadn't really done proper introductions.

“Dr. Fiddler.” He finished his sentence. Parker nodded in confirmation.

“That would be playing with Dr. Fiddler's job and reputation. We're going to have to figure out something a bit more subtle.”

The look on Milou's face expressed her distaste with this plan. Cheeks red and lips pressed into a thin line, a wrinkle graced her forehead, showing her stress. Dr. Fiddler figured this was understandable.

“Well...” Dr. Fiddler began. “I can't exactly go around shouting that I can see Parker.” He shot a look at him. “No offence meant.”

“None taken.” Parker confirmed with a slight smile. Dr. Fiddler nodded.

“Well then. There's not too much we can do for the present moment until we can figure out why you and I seem to be the only ones with the ability to see Parker.” He addressed Milou, who was still looking not too pleased. Her frown deepened.

“You mean I'm going to be stuck here for longer still?” She asked, her expression incredulous. Dr. Fiddler nodded sympathetically.

“But.” He stopped her, holding up a slender finger. “I will be able to help with that slightly. Provided you can act like it, I can claim you've improved and bring down the number of therapy sessions, both with myself and Dr. Brown, you require per month.” He offered, raising his palms up in a very 'what can you do?' gesture. Milou nodded.

“I suppose that works.” She muttered. “How long do you think it's going to take to find the reason, though? I don't really want to be stuck here for another twenty years...” She asked, her concern valid. Dr. Fiddler figured he wouldn't want to be stuck here for twenty years either.

“Well...” He began. “Strange as it sounds, I really do think the best place to start would be the library.” Milou scoffed. Dr. Fiddler smiled coyly. “You might laugh, but where else would you suggest?” The doctor took Milou's silence as a sign to continue. “We can try moving on from there, then.” He finished, standing up and holding out his hand to Milou. “I want to thank you, Milou, for coming today. I think this is going to be the most interesting assignment I've been dealt as of yet by far.” He told her, holding his hand out then to Parker.

I wonder if I can touch him? He mused. I suppose I'm about to find out...