#bit ooc

"I'm sorry, service hybrids?" Jack asks, narrowed eyes closing into a squint. His therapist only nods, organizing the papers in his lap, "Is that- is that a real program?"

"It is," Dr.Mitchell confirms, standing up to place the papers somewhere on his desk, "It's a bit of a novel approach, but it's still alike to service animal programs," he turns around, facing Jack who is still reeling from his suggestion.

"Just with hybrids," Jack mumbles, warranting a nod from Dr.Mitchell, "Just with hybrids," he parrots.

Recently, there's been some sort of movement in order to humanize hybrids, which is difficult considering they aren't all exactly human. Many are confined to jobs within their natural skill set, a handler overseeing their work to make sure they do not lean too much into their instincts. One of the interns, (Whitman? Winston?), discussed how his dad hired a sheep dog hybrid before he left for Pittsburgh (he more so complained, telling Jack how his dad is raving about their newest hire when he only asked the kid "How's it going?").

Still, to imagine them as an aide to his therapy seemed…

Well, it didn't sit right with him.

"Yeah, hard pass," he says, which makes his therapist cross his arms. Jack scoffs, "Look, I'm all for them progressing in society and, whatever, but I'd much rather stick with you then have some.. Dog guy who took a basic psych course," he slumps back into his seat, rubbing his thigh.

The ends of Dr.Mitchell's lips quirk downwards, "I assure you it isn't like that, Jack. they aren't therapists, they're just here to make the process easier. In fact, many people like you," Jack bristles, still unused to being confined to that box, "Have showed vast improvements with the help of service hybrids."

Were therapists supposed to be this pushy? If that's the case, can only imagine the mutt they might pair him with is worse.

His thoughts must be visible when Dr.Mitchell gives a defeated sigh, "Okay, I can tell I'm not getting through to you about this, but.." he opens one of his drawers, grabbing something Jack can't make out, only realizing what it is when Mitchell walks over and hands it to him.

A pamphlet for a hybrid facility.

Just what he needs.

"Think about it," he looks up to see Mitchell, his expression teetering on sympathetic and desperate, "Please."

Jack doesn't reply, his face unchanged.

But he takes the pamphlet, grabbing it from his therapist's hands as he exits. It's the last thing Mitchell sees before the door shuts behind abbot.