Roaming hands and large swells.

2.

"You can leave now." Bobby said, not a suggestion.

"I'm alright here, actually." Buck returned, not backing down.

"I seem to remember you agreeing to the 'my house my rules' clause of your reinstatement." Bobby shot back sharply, anger growing.

"I did, however, as you might've noticed," Buck explained gesturing around, "This isn't your house, and we aren't on the clock. So really, you cannot order me to do anything here."

"This is an invasion of privacy Buckley," Bobby continues, "you shouldn't be here."

"I assure you I am not invading your privacy." He replied and tapped the airpod in his ear, "I cannot hear you, nor will I be able to see you once you are in the room. I am invading your privacy no more than the receptionist or anyone in the waiting room is."

Dr. Wells came out of her office then, "Hello Mr. Nash, I'm Dr. Wells, are you ready to get started."

"I would love to, but I must ask that this man be removed." Bobby said, ever the professional, it almost made Buck want to roll his eyes.

"I apologize, Sir, but he's allowed to be here." Dr. Wells replied, "but I assure you that your privacy will not be invaded by him, what happens in our sessions is between you and me alone."

Buck shot her a glare at her wording, and she shot him one back. Bobby glanced between the two of them, "I see." He agreed half heartedly, and stepped inside the office.

Dr. Wells once again, behaved herself for the hour, not that it made him trust her any more. Bobby stepped out of the room after his hour was up, and shot Buck a confused and calculating look before heading out into the waiting room. He was definitely still angry though, which made Buck want to cringe, but he didn't. He couldn't afford to show any signs of weakness here.

"Well?" Dr. Wells said, "Was that satisfactory?"

He nodded to her in affirmation, "Keep it up and my mouth stays shut." He replied before walking away.

Bobby was already gone by the time he made it to the waiting room, which Buck was grateful for. He waved to the receptionist, who waved back with a smile, before he headed out the door and down the stairs to the parking lot.

Just twenty more minutes he told himself, keeping his breaths measured, twenty more minutes and I can be back in my loft and I can breakdown then, just twenty more minutes.

He should've expected that it wouldn't be that easy. Bobby was standing in front of his jeep, clearly waiting for him.

"Care to tell me what that was about, Buckley?" He demanded.

Buck just stood there, measured breaths and expression carefully emotionless. He didn't respond.

"Is this some sort of temper tantrum?" Bobby continued, "Because you couldn't give me a good enough reason for wanting to switch therapists? So now you're making sure none of us can have a productive session?"

Buck just walked around to the drivers side of the jeep, but Bobby cut him off. He grabbed Buck's arm, not tight enough to hurt thankfully, and didn't let go. "I want an explanation for your behavior, Buckley."

And yeah, Buck had figured that out, but he couldn't exactly just give him one, "Respectfully, Sir, you can't demand that."

"I damn well can, and I am." Bobby retorted.

"No, sir, you can't." Buck reminded him, "We aren't at work right now."

Bobby huffed at that, released his arm, and started to walk away, calling over his shoulder, "Speaking of work, I wouldn't expect a pleasant day tomorrow."

Buck didn't bother replying, instead hopping into his jeep and pulling out of the parking lot as quickly as he could while still looking calm and put together. He drove home, music playing way too loud for his frantic mind, but keeping him focused enough to make it home. He climbed the stairs, too nervous to stand still in the elevator, and did his best to unlock his front door with shaky hands. He got it open and closed it, leaning back against it as soon as he'd done so, his breaths quickening and the tell tale prickles starting in the corners of his eyes.

Nothing happened he tried to reassure himself as his vision blurred she didn't touch me, we barely exchanged a few sentences.

The tears started pouring down his face now and his chest was hitching with sobs. He slid all the way down to the floor, curling up, trying to continue his reassurances.

Only four more to go, it'll be ok. I'm in control this time, not her. Only four more times. His phone started buzzing in his pocket but he paid it no mind, I'm in control, it's not going to happen again. Not to me and not to them. It'll be fine. It'll be fine. It'll be fine.

After he'd finally started to calm down a bit, sobs turning to hiccups, he pulled himself up off the floor, swaying a bit. He was exhausted, and he didn't have it in him to try and eat anything, instead climbing the stairs up to the loft. He collapsed into bed, checked his phone, and saw several missed calls from Maddie. He sighed and decided to ignore them, plugging his phone in and falling asleep almost immediately.