The question jarred both the young men on the couch. Since Trowa seemed as likely to speak as the coffee table, Duo spoke up first. "Fine. Same boring shit. I've been there every day, right on time, like a good boy should."
Trowa nodded, hoping that would alleviate any need on his part to actually say something.
Dr. Clarkson frowned. "Have you had any incidents with your superior?"
Duo scowled. "No."
"There's a report. He said that you used offensive language."
"I called him a prick, but it wasn't an incident. It wasn't even on Preventers time." Duo folded his arms over his chest protectively, and his whole posture changed from lazily seductive to cornered animal.
"Did you call him a name?"
"Do you even care what the circumstances are? Does it matter what he said? He only wants to keep me on report so that I can't get out of that garage. He can keep me stuck there, and then I can do all his work, and he doesn't have to worry about me becoming his superior."
"Duo, you can't advance until you demonstrate that you've reformed. You haven't been able to go two months without skipping work or showing up drunk or hung over. You are the one that has the power to improve yourself, but you have to admit responsibility first."
Duo huffed, blowing air out to move his bangs out of his eyes. "I'm not responsible for him being a fat lazy prick."
Duo and Trowa are forced to try group therapy. It would help if they had a good therapist... or if they even wanted to be there.
My notes: All of the boys are absolute train wrecks in this fic. We've got post-war, abusive Heero, self-destructive addict Duo and suicidal Trowa. There's a lot about PTSD, drug use and abusive systems, as well as the difficulty of getting good mental health care when you're cogs in the machine. The story’s really not kind to the other Gundam Boys, but I still kind of love watching Duo and Trowa try to keep each other above water.