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“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see him.”
“Are you sure?”
Travis huffs. “Obviously I’m fucking sure.”
“You weren’t worried about him? Worried someone would hurt him? Worried he’d find someone new to be with?”
“I’m worried about that all the fucking time, but that’s not why I went.”
“Why did you go then?”
“I told you-”
“Yes, you told me you wanted to see him.” Dr. Singh sits forward, resting his forearms on the desk. At least he isn’t taking his annoying notes this time. “But why, Travis? What exactly did you want to see him doing?”
Travis’s gaze accidentally finds the painting behind Dr. Singh. The one full of flowers. The one that probably has daffodils. He forces his eyes elsewhere, focusing instead on the window. Two of the survivors are out there - Nolan and Matt. They’re bundled up in jackets and blankets, sitting on the grass and looking out at the stream that runs through the property.
“Travis?”
“I wanted to see him being free.”
“Yes,” Dr. Singh says simply. “I suppose you did.”
They sit with that for a minute, long enough for Travis to start wondering if maybe he’s supposed to be saying something. He doesn’t know what, though. And he’s not a fan of fucking mind games so if Dr. Singh wants to hear something he better just fucking- “How did it make you feel?”
Travis frowns. “What?”
“Seeing Carter free. How did it make you feel?”
“I - good. Great. Really happy.” Travis forces a smile that feels a little sticky. “I mean, that was my mission, right? Free them all. And once Carter was taken and I had to buy him, that was my new mission. Free Carter. Get him out alive so he could do exactly what he’s doing right now.”
Dr. Singh nods slowly, his eyes focused a little too much on Travis. He feels like he’s being studied. He’s not a fan.
“Do you want to try that again?” Dr. Singh asks.
“Not really, no.” Dr. Singh smiles like Travis is a child he plans to indulge. It pisses Travis off - he doesn’t want to be fucking indulged, he’s a grown ass man - so he says the truth before the asshole can say anything. “It scared the fuck out of me, okay? It made me happy and relieved and proud, and it also made me feel fucking sick to my stomach. Is that what you wanted to hear? Seeing the man I love happy and free made me sick. Because I’m a piece of shit and fucked up and a tiny fucking part of me wishes we were back in the compound so he could be mine again.”
The words - once out - can’t be taken back. Travis can’t unhear them. Can’t unthink them. His ears ring and his face feels hot. His heart threatens to pound right out of his fucking chest.
“Travis,” Dr. Singh says carefully. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” Travis growls. He curls his hands into fists against his thighs, purposely digging his nails into his palms. He deserves to be punished. To be hurt. “How the fuck could it be okay? God, I’m a fucking monster. I didn’t even know I - I had no idea I felt like that. Fuck, how can I feel like that? How can I want that?”
“You don’t, Travis. You don’t want it. Not really. If I offered it to you right now, no questions, no ramifications, would you go back there with Carter?”
Travis doesn’t even have to think about it. “Fuck no.”
“Because you don’t want that.”
“A part of me does, apparently.”
“And I bet a part of you wants to kill me because I bother the absolute fuck out of you.”
Travis’s lips quirk. “I won’t kill you doc, don’t worry.”
