“Could you give me their names? Or pseudonyms to refer to them as, if you prefer?" 

Jack hesitated a moment, taking a long breath. "Their real names are fine, I guess. Not like anyone has a chance of meeting you. I hope.” A light smile showed on his face again, and after a second he continued. “First, there’s my best friend Geo. Big, tough guy just a year older than me. Heart of gold, I tell you. Not the quickest on the uptake, but a real loyal dude. Even to strangers..." Jack trailed off for a moment, letting out a sigh. "He saved my life when he first met me. Samara, his younger sister, was not a fan of that. She's a super bright girl that loves engineering, but was hard to approach, considering how trouble followed me most places I went. And with Geo always hanging around me, well, who wouldn’t be concerned watching their sibling constantly throw themselves into danger to help a guy they stumbled upon in an alley one night? But Sam came around eventually, and we’ve been on good terms for four years now, I think?

“Daverick was similar: rough around the edges, and growing up an orphan made him real slow to open up to anyone else. Really bright for his age, as well, but not the best with expressing himself. He could tell if something was wrong with the rest of us, though. Sometimes he’d even give us a solo musical performance with whatever intstrument he found, like when things got a little too stressful. And then there’s Alice. Oh Gods, Alice… that dork. She was my, umm… she’s…" He choked on his words and stopped, blinking repeatedly. He fiddled with the ring finger on his left hand. "Gods… why…?"

Jack took several deep breaths, trying to suppress the choking sensation he felt as he spoke. William did his best to jot down some notes on his clipboard as quietly as he could. A minute of silence passed. When William was done, he set down the pen and clipboard, leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "Why what?"

"I mean why am I here? What else could I mean?" His face showed how distraught he was, but William kept a level expression.

"Seeing professional help isn't something to be ashamed of, Jack. I’ve done it before myself, and in the past even you’ve–"

"We both know I don't mean that, Doc! And for what it’s worth, this wasn’t my choice either. None of this was! From the beginning!” He threw his arms in the air, and pulled a pillow over to rest on his lap. He rested his elbows on the pillow, not caring about the poking sensation from another feather. “I know you've been told about my 'condition', or whatever they want to label it as. You've already talked to some of the others today, haven’t you? You already know that my story is similar to theirs. Or close enough, anyways. The stuff they have to tell is probably more exciting at least.” He took a moment to bury his face in his hands, his breaths becoming deeper and more audible. “Fuck, I want to know why I'm here! Again!" he said, pointing downwards.

"Jack, I cannot tell you why you are back here. In fact, that’s something I’d like to figure out as well. But right now, the only thing I can only tell you is that you’re not alone. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, but that’s why we’re doing this. And I’d like to help. Not just you, but the others too. Trust me. Please." There was a long pause. Jack simply stared dejectedly at the ground. He slumped back onto the couch, the hard leather sounding as uncomfortable as it felt.

“Hell, can you even believe it, Doc? I know I wouldn’t, if it hadn’t happened to me. It just… none of it makes any sense! Six years later and I’m still as clueless as when it all first happened.”

"A couple things, Jack. One,” he said, holding up a finger, “I don’t actually have a medical degree, so please do not call me ‘Doc’ or ‘doctor.’ Just Will or William will suffice. And two...” He held up another finger while keeping an even gaze with Jack. “To answer your question: I truly believe that just about anything is possible. Within reason, of course. All it takes is the right circumstances.” William paused to pick up the clipboard again. “Can I wake up tomorrow and decide I want to fly like a bird? Of course not. Does that mean I can’t fly? Well, pilots would beg to differ.” He smiled as he jotted something down. “I will not outright dismiss your claims, or anyone else’s for that matter. I am, at the very least, inclined to believe that you all truly believe you experienced these… I don’t know, events I suppose? That everything you perceived felt real enough to have actually happened, regardless of whether or not–"

"Really? Events? So our experiences, our lives are just 'events' to you? Stuff that happened in the past, stuff to just jot down in the history books, like a statistic?" Jack turned a harsh glare towards William, who held up his hand in protest.

"Apologies! Sincerely, I'm not sure what you'd like me to refer to these… experiences as. Just that, experiences? Although that doesn't narrow it down much at all. ‘Voyages’? ‘Trips’ maybe? Although, that has a bit of a negative connotation to it, given its use to refer to what happens when people are on drugs. But that might be a bit more of an accurate term, all things considered...”

“I think ‘Trip’ works fine, yeah. It fits perfectly, actually, now that I’m back. That’s what a trip is, right? Just a temporary journey from home. It works better than ‘event,’ for sure. Not like we simply went to a concert or a festival or something.”

“Alright then. Well, the ‘Trips’ that you and the others claim to have experienced; I’m personally operating on the assumption that it’s all true. And while not all that different from each other, everyone’s ‘Trip’ had varying durations from at least a year to decades at most. While none of you are able to corroborate each others’ claims, as they are all independent of each other, they’re much too detailed to be fabricated. All the moreso because they’re consistent! The notion that you’ve all made up these tales is just–” He waved his hand in the air, swatting the idea aside. “None of you seem to have met each other prior to a few months ago, either, so I know this isn’t some coordinated misunderstanding or a prank. But," William continued, holding up a finger, "without hard, foolproof evidence of your claims, I cannot confidently affirm that said ‘Trips’ actually occurred. Not in an official capacity. And that’s something I’m trying to solve."

“And what does ‘an official capacity' mean?" Jack leaned forward, his elbow resting on a knee, chin resting on his palm.

"I mean that, while I can personally believe in something you or the others might say, I cannot, as your designated psychologist, label these things as fact or fiction without proper grounds or presentable evidence. How can I show that you really experienced these trips, beyond just taking you all at your words for it? There’s a line of faith between believing and knowing these 'trips' are true. And with all that's going on, and all of your cases right now being a little on the… eccentric side, what I think, my faith in you, won’t be enough."

"Ah, right. Great! So, is that it then?" Jack slumped back on the couch again. "Well, I’ve nothing to present to you aside from my own words. No way to really prove anything. I can’t imagine the others do either, or I’m sure they’d be here instead of me right now. We're just gonna get labeled insane and get locked up, aren't we? Throw away the key. Forget about us, forget anything ever happened. Go back to a world that made sense before–"

"A few more things, Jack,” William said sternly. He held up a finger again. “First, we do not use the term 'insane' lightly here. Or 'crazy' for that matter. I will ask you to refrain from calling anyone that, including yourself, outside of the literal, definitive use of it. Or as a slang compliment, since that’s still a popular term for some reason.” Willaim rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He held up a second finger. “Second, I will be seeing all of you in due time. Nobody has any inherent priority or value over another. This week was a bit rushed, so there’s no rhyme or reason for the order, but going forward we will have a system determining who I’ll see and when. As for your overall stay…"

The psychologist shook his head and smiled wryly. "My job right now is to listen, aid, and diagnose my clients where applicable. As I said before, I don’t have a medical degree, so I’ll have to consult someone else if I feel like medication would fit any of you. I don’t want to sow any distrust if I can help it, and I’d especially like to keep things peaceful."

He paused and looked out the window. With a brief gesture, he continued.

"For right now, all of you being here on this lovely, newly refurbished campus is to help assure people with much more authority than me that none of you are a threat. My goal, after confirming that is the case for every one of you, is making sure that those overpaid higher ups understand that just as well, and together, we can figure out where to go from there. I promise to do my best to help you all get accustomed to things. And to keep my supervisors from being as overbearing as they’d like." He placed a hand over his heart, to emphasize his sincerity. 

"I have your word on that?"

"I swear on it,” William replied, keeping his eyes level with Jack. A pause followed. 

“You are an odd one, for a psych doc.”

“I’m not a psychiatrist!” William said, gripping the pen and shaking it in the air. “But yes, I get that a lot. Thank you.” Another long pause fell between them. “I’ll be frank. I had a few mental health issues growing up. Seasonal depression, academic induced anxiety, the simple stuff compared to other things out there. That’s partially why I pursued a position where I could help others like myself. That being said, it was a pretty lonely road, outside a few close friends. But I don’t regret taking it one bit.” He pointed next to Jack. 

Turning his head to the left, Jack noticed a picture frame sitting on the short coffee table, just out of his peripheral vision. In the frame was a picture of a woman with long black hair, holding an infant in her arms. William gestured for Jack to hand it over. He was just barely able to reach without actually getting off the couch.

“Someone special?” Jack asked.

“Hah, I’ve no idea who these people are, actually,” William said, laughing. “The frame was in the room when I moved in. I assume that’s the stock photo the frame came with, but I haven’t got anything to put in it myself.” He sighed, looking at the picture. “Someday, though, I hope to have someone I’d like to frame and keep by my side while I’m at work, like this. A close friend. Or a significant other. And when that happens, I’ll be sure to treasure my time with them, and appreciate the journey that brought me to that point.” He flipped the frame face down and looked back up at Jack, continuing.

“Your friends, your found family. I know you didn’t ask for everything that happened to you, Jack, and I know nobody’s life is always pleasant. But from the sounds of things, you’ve got some people who mean a lot to you, who support you.” Jack just nodded, swallowing back the choking sensation he was feeling again. “Would you say you regret the last six years?”

Jack shook his head without missing a beat. “Not a chance.” His voice cracked, but he kept his eyes level with William’s. “It was tough, yeah. But back then, like, you know…” he said, circling his hand in the air. “Before my Trip, I mean. I wasn’t sure what I was doing with myself. I was a bit of a jock, doing sports over studying. But not to a point I'd ever make anything of it. So I felt like I didn’t have much going for me. But after meeting Geo, Sam, Daverick, and Alice, I…”

“Is that when things clicked for you?”

“Not right away, but yeah. Eventually.”

“I see.” William took his pen to his clipboard. “I’m glad to hear that, Jack. Truly. Finding something you want to do with yourself is great!”

"Yeah, well, I’m sure it would have happened with or without the Trip.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Some people spend their whole lives searching for their purpose, a calling. Finding it at your age is something to be proud of, I think.”

“Oh please, you say that like you’re an old man!”

“Well, with youngsters like you causing a ruckus like you have, sometimes I feel like an old man.” William smiled, showing he meant no ill. 

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. I was definitely lucky to find somewhere to belong, even if the circumstances were more than a bit unusual. But I feel lost now. With all of them so out of reach, I just… I don’t know what I’ll do.” He let out a dry chuckle, covering his face with a hand. “Gods, Alice is gonna kill me, if I ever get back.” 

"When, Jack! When you get back! There are people, found family, waiting for you to come home. So I ask that you try to have some hope, however fleeting it may be, that you’ll find them again. Hold onto that spark, and keep fighting until you can get back. I'll be here to help however I can, whether it be venting or advice, whatever. Just let me know."

Jack just nodded, soaking in the words.

"Are all psych doc– err, psychologists like you? I don’t quite recall from when I was a kid. Was there a shift in trends or professionalism that I missed?"

"I’ll admit there’s been a shift in the world view on mental health, so psychology and psychiatry have adapted a little over time. It’s less taboo, more okay for men to have issues and to seek help in dealing with them. But even then, I think you know the answer to that," William replied with a chuckle. He grabbed another piece of paper from a drawer, and laid it on top of his clipboard. 

Jack turned his gaze to the window. The goat from earlier was gone, and the sun was a little lower than when he last checked. He heard the whirr of a machine turn on from elsewhere in the building, and felt the cool air as it began to pump into the room. He got goosebumps, and was reminded just how much he had taken for granted in his youth. The ability to enjoy an AC on a hot day. Clean clothes and well cut hair. A phone to let loved ones know you’re okay.

“Now then.” Jack snapped back to attention as William leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. He clicked his pen twice. “If it’s not too much for you, let’s go back to the beginning and tell me: what happened when you were isekaied to another world?”