Belong - an adopted by Hamilton fanfic [Hamilton]

64. To tell: again

[A/N: Heya! A new chap, I hope you like it! And thanks for coming by to read my little fanfic. I appreciate you💓]

Rue's POV
4, 5, 6, 7-
"Rue? Rue?", the voice of Dr Noma came through my mind, putting me back into the clean room where I sat across from her. My mind was emotionally drained.

I had been here for a week. In a place where I didn't want to be.

Two days ago I told her what I had done. I was guided through, and when I said the words I couldn't believe myself. At least, I hadn't been forced to tell the other doctor too, because Dr Noma worked here. And I hadn't had to tell the police. Not directly. And at least not yet. She had dragged the words out of me, and even though the thoughts were fewer because of medication, I was still paying for it today. Yesterday was much worse. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stay awake. All I did was cry and make the thoughts right again. All I did was to go back to square one.

Where were you? Seven.
I put my attention to her, to let her know that I was listening as I felt a bit of shame pour over me.
"Sorry, I-I didn't mean to...", the apology being more of a reaction rather than a genuine comment. I felt detached from the conversation and the world around me, the medications making me feel tired.
She just smiled at me, knowing that we'd been over this every session since the beginning of therapy in January.
"You don't need to apoligize, Rue", she said, it being a genuine reaction. "You need to learn and accept that you belong everywhere, that you belong with your foster parents. Lin and Vanessa won't leave you, Rue. Can you repeat that for me?", Dr Noma continued, looking me straight in the eyes, stating facts that still sounded foreign to me. "It's okay to say it, Rue", she said, nodding towards me with an encouraging smile.
"Lin and Vanessa won't leave me", I whispered, as if it was forbidden to form the words.
"Good", she said smiling. I didn't.
"I...", I began to say, already regretting it after the first syllable.
8, 9, 10, 11-
It was never-ending.
I don't want to be here, I continued the sentence in my head. I don't want to be here. I don't I don't I don't I don't I don't.
"Yeah?", Dr Noma asked, attentive as always. "You were saying?", she added.
"No, no... I'm sorry", I said, the phrase a staple in the recipe made for me, as I tried to save my mistake.
"Nothing you want to add or say?", she double checked, a behaviour that I'd learned after our first session. And I hated it.
Don't answer. I didn't and shook my head. She wrote something down. Something about me. Something that was wrong about me.
You're wrong.
You do not belong.
"Okay. Well then, let's talk about your homework. I know you like to hand in them perfectly, both in execution and in time. Even if the task is difficult", she looked at me so that I wouldn't look away. "And there's no deadline for this one, because this week's homework is particularly difficult - and you need to take your time", as if she was building up to something. And I didn't want to know what it was.

12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17-
The numbers were somehow duplicating in my head, echoing after each other.

"You need to tell them", the words making no sense. I didn't understand: I didn't want to understand.

"Rue, I know so much about you and I've had to force you to tell me those things. But, now you have to tell Vanessa and Lin. They haven't read your file, they haven't been in here. They are waiting for you to tell them because they don't want to go behind your back, Rue", speaking slowly as I was slowly catching up, getting more apprehensive by the second.
"They need to know your story, Rue. And only you can tell it", I forced myself to nod. I forced myself to act like she wanted me to. I forced myself to fold and mild by the expectations.
If they know who you are, they won't love you anymore.
It was distant, drowsy, but effective. It was still scary. So frightening. So paralysing.
18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23. 23? 23. 24, 25-
The counting was speeding up.
"Take your time. Okay?", she said, double-checking once again, reassuring me.
"Okay", I said, answering because I had to. Because maybe there was a reason to say so.
It was quiet.
I was supposed to leave now. To stand up, take her hand, and say goodbye for today. Maybe say "see you tomorrow", and then let another patient in.