Insanity (Asylum 1)

lift my chin, refusing to meet his eyes, and remain indifferent. Inside a betrayed feeling floats through me and I’m torn between being angry, feeling guilty, and more than anything I’m upset at myself for trusting Aurora. How could she do this to me? I didn’t even do anything to her to deserve this.

After Dr. Watson strands straight, Dr. Morrow comes up behind him with a new syringe. “Ah, Dr. Watson,” Dr. Morrow greets him with a snarky tone. “I see you’ve decided to join us.”

A vibrant shade of crimson flushes in Dr. Watson’s cheeks and in a flash, he lunges for Dr. Morrow, his forearm against the old doctor’s neck, pinning him against the wall. “What the fuck have you done?” Dr. Watson shouts, pressing his arm harder against Dr. Morrow’s neck.

Dr. Morrow makes a gurgling noise and raises his hands, the syringe slipping from his grasp and once again shattering on the floor. “Can’t breathe,” he croaks in a raspy tone.

Dr. Watson does not relent and my eyes go wide at the sight of Dr. Morrow’s purplish colored face. His veins pop out at his temples. I can tell he’s trying to breathe, but he’s not having much success. I think Dr. Watson might kill Dr. Morrow. I cover my eyes with my good hand and a nanosecond later Dr. Watson shoves himself away from the wall, heavy breathes leaving his throat. I drop my hand and Dr. Watson paces back and forth in front of a weak Dr. Morrow, and runs a hand through his perfectly coiffed gold hair.

After a moment he stands directly in front of Dr. Morrow, a vicious gleam in his eyes. He clenches his shaking fists, clears his throat, and exhales, “Next time you use those measures on my patient without my authority, you’re going to have bigger issues than trying to catch your breath, old man.”

Dr. Morrow stands with a growl and scowls at me. “That crazy little bitch was having an episode.” He straightens up, massaging his throat. “She needed to be sedated,” he coughs out, his breathing returning to semi-normal. “And then she spit in my face.” His head snaps toward me and I’ve never seen so much hatred in someone’s eyes. “She’s lucky I only broke her fingers.” I cast my eyes downward knowing that Dr. Morrow secretly wishes he could have broken every bone in my body.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Call. Her. That. Again.” Dr. Watson pauses after each word. There’s grit and a rasp in his voice and for once I think he sounds like a lunatic.

Dr. Morrow opens his mouth, but Dr. Watson doesn’t let him get a word in. “I didn’t authorize you to give her any barbiturates. I don’t want her to have them. Didn’t we discuss this already Dr. Morrow? You can treat your patients and use whatever treatment methods you prefer and I’ll treat mine using the methods I prefer.” Dr. Watson takes a few loud steps toward Dr. Morrow. “Are we clear Matthew?”

“You’ve lost your mind, do you know that Elijah?” Dr. Morrow tugs on his white coat, smoothing the wrinkled lapels. “She needed the barbiturates. She was out of bed after turndown and having a violent episode. She was out of control. The drugs would have calmed her down and you know that.” Dr. Morrow pushes away from the wall and points a finger a Dr. Watson. “You’re too close to—.”

“Enough!” Dr. Watson yells, in a loud, rumbling tone. “No more barbiturates. No more deep sleep induced therapy Matthew. I’m trying to make her remember, not trying to make her forget.”

“You don’t even—.”

“I said enough!” Dr. Watson crouches down in front of me.

Dr. Morrow shakes his head and pins his eyes to Dr. Watson’s back. Then Dr. Watson dips his left shoulder down and helps me to my feet. Once I’m up Dr. Watson’s other arm encircles my waist as I suck in a deep breath and slide my bad hand across his shoulder. At least that pain has subsided. Now my entire hand is numb and a tingling sensation shoots up my arm. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Dr. Watson escorts me down the hall and Dr. Morrow’s footsteps pound against the tile behind us. “Where are you taking her?

I notice, Dr. Watson’s jaw clench, then relax. “To the infirmary.”

“You know she can’t go back to her room.”

“Then I’ll take her to solitary afterward. She can spend the night there.” We turn a corner, vanishing from the view of the other’s and Dr. Watson leans close to my ear. “Don’t worry, Adelaide. You’re safe with me.”

I’ve heard that statement before; You’re safe with me.

I’d heard Damien tell me the exact same thing several times before. And where was he now? The second we got caught, he ran and hid and left me to receive the entire punishment alone. I think that I’m heartbroken more than anything because of it.

And somehow, the words; You’re safe with me, makes me feel more terrified than usual.

~ ~ ~

In the infirmary, it has been confirmed that my hand and fingers are definitely broken. Luckily for me, the bones aren’t shattered and won’t require any kind of surgery, so my hand and fingers are set and I’m sent on my way.

Dr. Watson leads me to my room for the night and once I’m inside, the white padded walls burn my eyes and immediately makes my spine tense. I turn slowly toward Dr. Watson, eyes wary. “You’re not…You’re not…”

He finishes my sentence, “Going to put you into a straightjacket?” A small shake of the head. “No.”

Dr. Watson guides me over to the cot and once I’m in bed, he pulls the cover up to my chin. A smile tries to curl on my lips, but I suppress it by pressing my lips together into a straight line. This is strange. I feel like Dr. Watson is my father and I think this whole scenario is weirding me out because he’s also a man who I’ve had sexually explicit dreams about. Even though the first time his face wasn’t visible. I know it was him. There’s something about his voice and touch that made me realize it.

After I snuggle under the covers Dr. Watson takes a step back, and shoves his hands in his pockets. I look up into his eyes. The pain in them is gone. The coolness. He almost looks like he’s content. “Thank you,” I say. I am truly grateful that he came along when he did. Who knows what would have happened if he didn’t?

“Do not thank me, Adelaide. I am your doctor. It is my job to care for you.”

“To care for me, yes.” To save me, no.

“I only wish I would have arrived before Matthew let his temper get the best of him.” A spark of regret glistens in his honey eyes and he turns away from me.