lights will guide you home;; [BEN]

[AMY WINSTON]

Amy had had enough.

She knew it was sick, the way she was letting Jon still dominate her life. She had left him once before and it hadn't been this bad, it wasn't adding up why her entire life had started to spiral. He had cheated on her once before and she had been strong. She had left him and forged a new life for herself. She was a member of society before, so why not now?

Though deep down she knew she was lying. The last time she had left Jon, she had moved up to New York and kept mainly to herself. She got maybe one or two friends, but never anybody to really talk to. When Jon came back in her life, she thrived beneath him, mostly enjoying life and making a lot of new friends. Including one who was very important.

And so she reached the heart of the issue. Amy's chest panged as she thought of him, and the guilt crept into her system like a virus. She wasn't exactly sure why she had acted the way she did, Charlemagne was like a best friend to her. She hadn't told him that she was engaged, and she hadn't told him that she was moving to L.A. Because she was a terrible human being. And then, when she had gotten back, she hadn't sought him out to apologize. And when she did see him, she made a mess out of the whole thing. She brushed him off, barely explained, and left without much of a warning.

Some friend.

She couldn't exactly explain why, but Charlemagne made things...complicated. She cared for him, but was unable to figure out exactly in what fashion. Of course, what she was unable to admit to herself was that she loved him, but after the way Jon basically ruined her life, she couldn't bear to look at anyone in a romantic fashion. Everyone-- especially Charlemagne-- deserved far better than her. Damaged goods.

But this agoraphobia was getting to be too much. She couldn't bear to spend another minute alone by herself, but the thought of being around people, and possibly in a situation where she could run into him was enough to make her nauseous. But she had had enough. She was tired of this little hiccup in her life. It was time to make a stand. To forget Jon Rossum, and his poison. To be okay again. To maybe go back to being a social butterfly. To maybe be okay to visit the mystery section in the library, to see a certain eccentric information specialist.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves here.

On the day she decided to make a stand, January 13th, Amy logged onto her computer in her bare bones apartment and looked up reputable therapists in the city. Of all the prospective shrinks, only one sounded vaguely promising. Dr. Benedict Milner was getting excellent reviews, a patient, kindly man who really knew how to put a person at peace.

Okay, so that was the general consensus about all of them. But there was something about that name that was appealing to her. That same something was controlling her hand as she picked up her cell phone, dialed the number, and made the appointment. 'As soon as possible,' she had begged the receptionist. Way to not sound like a complete nutjob, Amy.

But, it had worked. Turned out, Dr. Milner had an opening in his schedule for the following morning, at 10AM. She'd miss her morning Doctor Who Rerun on BBCA, but somehow this was more important.

She had tossed restlessly that night, worried that she was broken, and that the good Doctor would be of little help. When her alarm rang that morning, she felt like she had just closed her eyes. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if she were to lay there for a moment more...

She jolted out of bed and checked the time, and was devastated to find she was running late. Not very late, but late nonetheless. Panicking, she scrambled out of bed and into some clean(ish) clothes, nothing too fancy, yoga pants and an overlarge gray sweatshirt. Grabbing her purse, keys, and phone she booked it out of her apartment and tore off down the block. She had a car, but driving in New York was an exercise in futility, and would turn her ten minute tardy into an hour long lateness. As she ran, she called the office, begging forgiveness, and promising she'd be there as fast as she could.

---

Tapping her foot in the elevator, she wished she had gotten up in time. She wouldn't look such a mess. She wanted to impress this Dr. Milner, and not look like a completely lost cause. But that was beyond help, and as the numbers ticked slowly upward she started to think that maybe she was as well.

The receptionist offered her a friendly, sympathetic smile when she finally got to the office. "Just go right on in honey, he's expecting you." Amy offered the woman a sheepish smile and tentatively opened the door.

"D-Dr. Milner?"