Michael missed his weekly counseling session but it gave him time to reevaluate the scene with his former stepfather and see it through the eyes of an adult rather than the frightened eyes of a child. Ashamed that he'd let the man bully him, he promised himself to never let it happen again. It also embarrassed him that Jay and Terry bore witness to his humiliation, though neither mentioned it afterwards.

Instead, Jay had been warm and caring, studiously avoiding any mention of the incident. Whenever Michael thought of it, his lover must have known, for he was always there to lend his silent support, be it with a look, a touch, or with sex. But that led to problems also. Michael looked forward to his time with Jay, dreading the end of the evening when he left to go back to the Zoo. He didn't sleep very well without his lover beside him and felt dependent and needy, waiting for Jay to tire of him and wander off in search of someone not so…broken.

Yet, whenever he needed to go shopping, to his doctor's, or even to visit family, Jay was there, smiling and happy to take him wherever he needed to go. And when it was time for his next counseling session, Michael was dropped off at the door and discreetly kissed. Jay promised that when the visit was over he'd be waiting in the lobby, convincing Michael that he didn't want to leave and would gladly have come inside and held his hand for the next hour.

Michael stood in the doorway of his therapist's office reluctantly watching his boyfriend leave, wishing his could go with him. He knew he needed to be here, needed this, but still it was hard. When Jay's car was completely out of sight, he sighed and entered the nondescript brick building, closing the door behind him.

The middle-aged receptionist smiled in greeting when he signed his name on the appointment book before sitting down to wait. He had just picked up a copy of Great Outdoors when the heavy oak door beside the reception desk opened and the man he was waiting to see stepped out, wearing a smile and beckoning him to enter.

When Michael stepped past, the man closed the door and asked, "So, Michael, what did you bring me today?"

Gideon Rafferty was a tall, imposing black man who reminded Michael of a pro basketball player, with his long fingers, lanky limbs, and shaved head. Embarrassed because he knew it was stereotyping, he still imagined this powerhouse of a man dribbling a ball down center court to execute a stunning slam dunk. He certainly hoped the man could help him slam dunk his emotional issues as easily.

In answer to his counselor's question, Michael crossed the room to the now-familiar stereo and inserted the customary CD he always brought with him to his sessions, relying on his selection to set the mood and help explain how he was feeling at the time.

Gideon 'call me Raff' sat on a comfortable looking leather chair, long legs splayed, elbows on knees, leaning forward and facing the couch Michael normally sprawled on for their sessions. The man was big and if he didn't have such a relaxed manner Michael would have found him intimidating. It wasn't often that he came across someone bigger that he was, and Raff was huge.

The man's pensive look was replaced by one of pleasant surprise as the first strains of music filled the spacious office. "Rob Thomas?'

Michael set the CD case down on the bookshelf that housed the player and took his customary place on the couch that was his for the next hour, to the strains of Get Back to Good.

"That's an interesting choice for you, Michael, so I'm assuming there's a special meaning. What are you trying to tell me today?" The deep rumble of the man's voice had a soothing quality that seemed out of place with his dominating presence. Michael guessed that if he didn't do something to offset his imposing size, he wouldn't be very good as a counselor because his clients would be afraid of him.

Michael sighed and settled back into the couch, averting his eyes, the plea for help evident as he replied forlornly, "I want to get better. I'm tired of being this way." He sincerely meant it with every fiber of his being: he wanted to live a normal life, free of panic attacks, free of nightmares, free of guilt and self recriminations.

"And what way is that, Michael?"

"Weak, needy, afraid…helpless."

"I want you to think about each of those things, and explain why you use these terms in relation to yourself. Let's start with the first one, as you mentioned it first. Why do you feel weak?"

"Because I am!" Michael huffed in exasperation. "I can't do one damned thing for myself! I can't shop for groceries, drive-hell, I missed my appointment with you last week because I couldn't walk a few blocks to get here!" Michael's hand reached up and combed through his hair, pulling tightly in agitation as it went.

Raff mused for a moment, then replied, "Ok, you've told me what you cannot do; now tell me the things you can do." The counselor's voice remained calm, soothing, unaffected by Michael's obvious annoyance.

"I just told you; I can't do anything! I'm useless."

"Michael, you're not useless. You're just looking at things from one direction and not at the big picture. We'll try another approach. Let's start with this week. Tell me what you did on Monday."

Michael thought about it for a few moments before replying, "I cooked breakfast for me and Mom, then I went to work in the bookstore."

"Ah, so you can do some things after all," Raff commented, a wry smile exposing even, white teeth that appeared even lighter in contrast with his dark skin.

"What? I made breakfast and helped out in my mother's store. It's not even a real job! She's just letting me help out because I can't do anything else." Michael was embarrassed by the whine in his voice but, dammit, he was tired of being such a burden to everyone!

"I doubt that very seriously. Is she always there at the store watching your every move, worried you'll make a mistake?"

Michael's silence answered for him.

"That's what I thought. Is she making up excuses to go out, leaving you in charge so that you'll feel needed?

Again Michael remained quiet.

"Has it even occurred to you that not only does she like having you near, but that she might actually need the help? Let me ask you this: if you weren't there would she have to hire someone?"

"Yes," Michael grudgingly answered. "She had someone there who quit on her two weeks before I came home. Sometimes she has to run errands, or go to an appointment. And she's this tiny little thing, no bigger than a minute. Stocking the shelves is hard for her. Not to mention it'd take her like a million trips just to haul the books back and forth."

"And why is that?"

Michael shrugged his shoulders and raised an eyebrow, wondering where Raff was going with this line of questioning. "Because I'm stronger and can carry more." He resisted the urge to add, 'Well, duh!" respecting the man too much for that. Still he hoped they'd get to the point soon; he was rapidly losing patience with the conversation.

Raff leaned back into his chair, smiling as if he'd achieved some great goal.

"What?" Michael demanded.

"You just admitted that you're strong, not weak."

"Physically stronger than Mom, but who isn't?"

"It's not muscles that make you strong, Michael; it's the desire to use those muscles to help others who aren't as strong. Tell me, who have you been physically strong for this week?"

Michael thought back over the past few days, remembering helping his mom in the bookstore, moving the refrigerator for Grandma so she could clean behind it, and helping his grandfather work on his tractor out in the barn. There was not way Gramps could have managed the hoist on his own.

Raff must have sensed from his expression that he had, indeed, thought of several examples, for he moved on without waiting for a verbal answer to his question. "Now, who have you been emotionally strong for this week?"

Again, several instances came to mind. Although he hadn't driven himself, he had gone to his grandparent's home when he found out they needed his help, even driving the tractor for awhile, cutting hay, though he was still uncomfortable being out-of-doors. He also recalled the conversation he'd had with his mother as he'd tried to absolve her of any guilt over his issues with his former stepfather, artfully keeping his conversation with Jay out of it. And then there was Ryan, who was finally coming to terms with the past, and had begun entertaining thoughts of a future. Finally, Michael looked up, understanding dawning on him.

"See, you are strong. You're strong for your family and you're strong for your friends. You'll do for them what you won't do for yourself. Am I right?"

The man had a very creative way of making a point sometimes, but Michael grudgingly admitted, "Yeah, you're right." He should have known the counselor wouldn't leave it at that.

"And why is that?" Raff prompted.

After a moment of careful consideration, he had to confess, "I don't know."

Raff disagreed, "Ah, I think you do, Michael. We'll continue our session, but I want you to think about that, and before you leave I want an answer, all right?"

Michael nodded, hoping that a reasonable response would occur to him something within the next forty minutes or so.

"Let's move on, shall we? Why do you think you're needy?"

That question didn't require a lot of thought -- it was an issue that constantly played on his mind. "Well, I need someone to drive me everywhere I go, for one. I have a perfectly good car parked outside, but I'm scared to drive it. I can't go anywhere alone without freaking out. And I'm clingy," he added as an afterthought.

Rather than address Michael's self-recriminations, the sly counselor abruptly changed tactics. "I've met your grandparents, did you know that?"

Michael wondered what this had to do with anything, but answered truthfully, "No."

Raff smiled and explained, "I attended a bake sale and auction to raise money for the volunteer fire department out their way." The big man leaned further back in his chair, making himself comfortable. "Your grandmother makes wonderful apple pies. That must take a lot of work, don't you think? Picking the apples and peeling them. Especially with her fingers like they are. Her arthritis is pretty bad, isn't it?"

Visualizing the bent and twisted hands that so lovingly cooked dinner every Sunday, Michael replied, "Yeah, but she doesn't pick the apples herself, and if her hands are bad she gets Mom or Angie to peel them for her." He still didn't see what this had to do with him feeling weak and useless, but was more than happy to discuss his grandmother with a fellow admirer of her baking skills.

"Who picks the apples?" Raff asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Well, I used to. I don't know who does now. I suppose Angie or some of her friends. Jay might do it," he added.

"Jay. I don't believe you've mentioned him before. Is he family?"

Michael almost snorted at the inadvertent double-entendre, but managed to divert it into a cough, instead. He couldn't help smiling, though, thinking of the dark-haired Texan who had become so important to him and his family. "Oh, he's a friend of the family," was all Michael divulged for the moment. There'd be time to discuss that aspect of his life later. Although he suddenly found himself eager to do so, he didn't want to interrupt what his counselor was trying to accomplish with the Grandma analogy.

"So, you, your sister, or Jay picks the apples, Angie peels them, then your grandmother bakes the pies?"

"Yep," Michael answered, his stomach choosing that moment to rumble in response to his thoughts about those apple pies, which were his personal favorites.

Out of the blue the big man asked, "Michael, what kind of car does your grandmother drive?"

Michael thought the question strange, but answered, "Well, she has a Buick, but she doesn't exactly drive it."

"Oh, why not?" Raff inquired, as though Grandma's driving habits were of the utmost importance.

Clearly visualizing the woman in his mind, there was sorrow in his voice when Michael answered, "She can't see very well anymore, and with her arthritis…"

Cutting him off mid-sentence, the counselor asked, "Then how do you suppose she got to the benefit that night?"

"I guess Grandpa drove her."

"Well, I want to tell you, the bidding was fierce for Miss Eileen's apple pies," he said with a smile.

Michael snickered, knowing from past experience how popular Grandma's pies were. "I can only imagine."

"Michael, how would you describe your grandmother?"

He thought it over for a minute, about the petite but feisty woman who was the driving force behind his family. "Grandma? Well, she's kind, but strict, she doesn't take anything off of anybody, but she's always there when someone needs her."

"But yet you think she's needy."

"No, I don't!" Michael all but yelled. How dare this man say such a thing about his grandmother? She was one of the strongest people he knew!

"Yet someone else drives her where she needs to go and others have to do things for her. If that makes you needy, doesn't it make her needy, too?" Once again the man's calm logic had led Michael exactly where Raff intended it to.

"You sneaky bastard!" Michael was floored by the roundabout way the man had made his point, using his own words against him with remarkable skill.

Raff smiled indulgently, and then continued their discussion. "I am curious though; why do you say you're clingy? You've never mentioned that before."

"Well…" Michael wondered how best to explain without saying too much. "There's someone new in my life, and when they're around I have to be touching them, you know? And when he's not there…" His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he realized that, once again, words were not his friends.

"Ah. So now we're getting somewhere. You have a boyfriend. I want to remind you that you don't have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable. But if it does, we will be discussing the reason why." Though Raff's tone was firm, Michael didn't feel threatened by the words, trusting the man who'd proven himself time and again to have his best interests at heart.

It was that trust that allowed him to admit, "Yes, I have a boyfriend."

"Am I to understand that his name is Jay?" The acceptance on Raff's face set Michael at ease, so he smiled and nodded, happy in the knowledge that here was yet another person he could talk to about his budding relationship, someone who wouldn't judge and who'd probably be happy for him. He'd known that he'd have to discuss his being gay with Raff at some point, and he had been avoiding the issue of Ryan even though he knew it needed to be divulged. Unsure of how to broach the topics, he had secretly worried that this counselor he was beginning to genuinely like would be horrified or think less of him for being gay.

Revisiting Michael's early words, Raff confirmed, "When Jay is around you want to touch him, and when he's not around you wish he were; is that right?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Michael replied, suddenly showing keen interest in his shoelaces.

"That's not clingy. What you're feeling is what anyone in love feels for their partner. Does he feel the same for you?"

Michael shrugged and replied, "He seems to."

"Do you consider him clingy or needy?"

"No," Michael answered honestly.

Raff studied at his notes for a moment. "You mentioned that you can't shop alone. Does he go with you?"

"Yes."

With a pointed look to his client, the counselor asked, "Does he mind going with you?"

"No, in fact, he says he wants to take me and spends that time asking me about things I like, showing me what he likes, and then we go home and cook together."

Raff's smile, if possible, grew bigger. "Ah, so you go 'home,' do you?"

Realizing his faux pas, Michael quickly clarified, "No, we don't live together; I was talking about my apartment."

"No, I don't think you were." At Michael's puzzled look he continued, "I think in this case, 'home' is wherever Jay is. You're in love."

Dawning realization swept over Michael as he accepted the truth of those words. "Yeah, I think you're right; Jay is home."

"Well, I'm truly happy for you, but I didn't know that you were gay."

"Is that a problem?" Michael's heart skipped a beat, worried that he had misread the big man and was mistaken in that he could trust him enough to tell him about Jay.

"No, it's not a problem for me, if it's not a problem for you. You see, we try to match clients with counselors of similar backgrounds. You were matched with me because I suffered conditions similar to yours following Desert Storm. If you had disclosed your sexual preference, we could have matched you with a different counselor."

"No! I don't want another counselor!" he exclaimed emphatically.

Again a smile came to the man's face. "Well I'm glad, because I like working with you and I feel we're making real progress. So, let's get back to it, shall we? We've now ruled out weak and needy. Tell me why you feel afraid?"

Raff was quite familiar with his nightmares already: of Jimmy's screams, of Ryan's begging him to let him go so he could join his lover, and of Jimmy and Ryan confronting him, shouting, "It should have been you!" So today he told him of his encounter with his former stepfather and his helplessness, being unable to defend himself from somebody physically inferior to him.

When he was finished with his narrative, Raff commented, "I think you're giving this man more power than is his."

At Michael's raised eyebrow he continued, "You're using him as a bogey-man, a reason not to succeed and be happy. Let me ask you this: when you became involved with Jay, did you worry about what this man would say?"

"Yes," Michael confessed.

"Why? You don't like him, he's no longer a part of your family, and his opinion shouldn't matter to you. Why do you care what he thinks?"

"Because he's a racist bigot who'll shoot his mouth off to anyone who'll listen."

"And who'll listen to him? Other racist bigots?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe it's not Crawford you're afraid of. Maybe he personifies everyone in the world who might not agree with your relationship. If someone in Seattle thinks homosexuality is wrong, does that bother you?"

"Well, no. Why should it?"

"Good question. Why doesn't it bother you?"

"Because they're in Seattle, and I'm in Cookesville, and they can't affect me."

Again Raff gave him that beaming smile that suggested that he'd just solved the mysteries of the universe.

"I don't get it," Michael admitted.

"Michael, it makes no difference if they're in Seattle or Cookesville; these people don't matter. The ones who do matter are you, Jay, and your family. How does your family -your immediate family - feel about you being in a relationship with another man?"

He didn't even have to stop and think of the answer to that one. "Mom and Angie are thrilled; they like Jay. Grandma and Grandpa don't really understand, but they accept it, because they love me. And they like him, too."

"Isn't that all you need? I'm not saying it'll be easy; there's a lot of Crawfords out there in the world. But do you really want to live your life to please someone who was cruel to you and your family? Someone who you know to be a bad person? Why are you giving this man power over you? He doesn't have any power on his own, Michael; you're giving it to him."

Michael thought about the words for a moment, realizing they made sense. Then he remembered what he'd told Jay the day they met: 'Those people don't matter.'

"Our time is almost over for today; have you thought of the answer to my question?" Raff asked as he rose from his chair and stretched, arching his back with an audible 'pop'.

"What question?" Michael thought he'd answered every question he'd been asked. But then again, there'd been so many.

"The one I asked earlier: why you'll do for things for your family and friends that you won't do for yourself."

It took him a moment before the answer came to him. "Because they mean more to me than I do?"

The big man smiled like a proud parent. "It's not necessarily a bad thing to put others before yourself; a lot of admirable people do that. The trick is to accomplish it without neglecting yourself. Think you can do that?"

"I can try." Michael rose from the couch and crossed the room to retrieve his CD. "Look, when Jay gets here, can I bring him in to meet you?"

While his back was turned he heard the door open behind him and Raff's deep rumble say, "Please, come in."

Michael turned around, wondering who it could. The next client was never invited in while one was still in the room. What he saw was like the sun coming up over the horizon. Talk about timing! Jay had come to take him home and was now shaking hands with Raff, a somewhat bewildered expression on his face.

"Hi, babe," Michael greeted, inwardly hoping Jay wouldn't mind that he'd acknowledged their relationship to a stranger - a stranger to Jay, that is. Apparently he'd said the right thing; however, as Jay's eager grin indicated just how much he didn't mind.

After introductions and a few moments of polite conversation, he and Jay took their leave, hand-in-hand as they left the office. All in all, Michael thought it had been a very insightful session.