(„• ֊ •„) the inkerrrr

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The clocks on the walls of Treatment Space clicked like several synchronous metronomes.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Cleaner's boots tip-tapped on the wooden floor while he fiddled with his fingers and shifted in his seat on the couch.

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The florescent bulbs pulsated rapidly, likely imperceptible to anyone but Cleaner.

"You can stand and walk around, if that'd make you more comfortable."

Stitch sat in the chair across from Cleaner. Cleaner was hesitant to try therapy, but Ink kept recommending it. When he first walked into Treatment Space, Cleaner was pleasantly surprised at how tidy Stitch kept his space.

Cleaner took Stitch's offer immediately and stood. He walked around the room and took a greater stock of everything. The desk behind Stitch's chair was covered in various papers. The two doors on either side of the room both had small smudges. There was a bookshelf against one of the walls. None of the books had any titles on their spines, but they had varying colors and were all the same width and height.

"In your file you mentioned a pocket dimension? What is that like?" Stitch asked.

"Oh yes, the place I live in is pretty similar to this actually," Cleaner said, slightly absentmindedly as he was still analyzing the room, "I call it Safespace actually," Cleaner chuckled.

Stitch flipped another page on their clipboard. "You wrote that you struggle with eating? Would you like to talk about that?"

"No," Cleaner said, his tone as cheery as it was when he walked in, "I can eat just fine when I'm not in Safespace, it's not that big of a deal." Cleaner bounced up and down on his toes.

"When you're not in Safespace? Are you not able to eat in your own home?"

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"You know just because there's books on these shelves doesn't mean the books don't collect dust," Cleaner walked over to the shelves and looked closely at the patterns of dust. Most of the books were absolutely covered, while some had less dust than others. Cleaner assumed that Stitch used those books more often than any others.

"I didn't know that, thank you."

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"Whenever you're ready to answer the question we can continue."

"It wouldn't take much at all for me to whip these shelves into shape. I could do it in two shakes right now if you'd like."

"If that'd make you more comfortable."

A handheld feather duster materialized in Cleaner's hand, his trusty Dustarella, and he went to work clearing off the bookshelves.

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Ten minutes later

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Twenty minutes later

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Thirty minutes later

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Stitch looked around their office, patiently watching Cleaner work. The papers on their desk were put in very neat piles. The floor and the rug were both completely spotless. The picture frames had been wiped clean of any smears. The golden doorknobs sparkled.

Stitch had to yell over the din of the vacuum that Cleaner had manifested, "If you're almost done, we can get back to work."

The vacuum clicked off, "What was that?" Cleaner asked.

"Would you like to sit down and answer the question I asked you at the start of our session?" Stitch asked calmly, with the tiniest hint of irritation in their voice.

The vacuum disappeared in a flurry of pink bubbles. Cleaner plopped down onto the couch, "I'd like to ask you something first."

"Go ahead. I'm an open book," Stitch said.

"What was Nightmare doing in your office?"

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"That falls under client confidentiality, I'm bound by code not to disclose anything about potential clients." Stitch said, looking down at their clipboard.

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"Would you like to get back on track or would you like to end our session here?"

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Cleaner moved to stand again so he could get back to work. Stitch interrupted him with another question, "How did you know Nightmare was here?"

Cleaner stated simply, "Stains under the rug, I'm guessing you couldn't get them out of the floor and moved the rug to cover them."

A spray bottle manifested in Cleaner's hand. The nozzle was purple and it had a lavender colored liquid inside of it. In the center of the solution sat a glowing yellow heart shape. "I could get them out for you next time I'm here, but I think our time is up."

The clocks chimed softly. Stitch's next patient was here.

"I hope I haven't been a difficult client," Cleaner said with sincerity in his voice, "Thanks Doc. Until next time."

Cleaner left Treatment Space.

This is going to be quite the treatment journey...