The boy had certainly taken a turn for the worse as Greg raced into the ER to find nurses administering CPR to the small and sunken chest. Knowing they must have been tired, he took over the compression, praying that the heart would again beat. Adrenaline, the synthetic form of the body's natural endorphins and other chemicals, was injected in an attempt to revive him, as the artificial breathing and compression continued. And as suddenly as it had begun, the drone of the alarm ceased, and a blip darted across the screen. There was a heart beat. It was weak and thready, but it was there.Sweat slipped off of the doctor's body as he leaned back against a counter, exhausted from the work out. "All right. Move him to ICU and keep a constant watch on him. I want blood samples every four hours, and round the clock supervision." There had been enough excitement tonight. Dr. Calsso slipped off his lab coat and gave a half hearted wave before he left the ER for the elevator. He would again check on the boy, but for now, he wanted some peace and a chance to avoid another potential situation such as that.
==
The wild, struggling man in the straight jacket smiled at Dr. Adeline Frostt as she inspected him curiously. "Are you a nurse?" he asked.
"No," she said with an arched brow. "I'm a therapist. Sorry hun."
"Oh. Okay. Do you give me my medicine?"
"No," she replied. "I'm here to talk." She took a seat next to his bed. A glance at her chart identified him as Quentari. "Would you like to talk to me?"
The "boy" inside the man seemed confused. "Yes, I want to talk, because when I talk, I can leave."
"Is that how it works? Tell me more, can you?"
"Silly girl. You can trust me, but you can't trust him. But he's gone."
It was her turn to be confused. "Who's gone?"
"My little kid." Patiently was this said, as though everyone should know about this type of thing. "He makes my body work better."
This could be one for the books. "Can you tell me more about him?"
"He killed my father." The innocent tone or any supposition of it was gone, replaced by a more depressed manner.
"Is he a doctor here?" asked Adeline.
"No. He's inside my head. All the doctors are bad."
A possible case of paranoid delusion, schizophrenia, gads, the list could go on and on. Adeline blinked, her frosty blue eyes clouded with concern. "Does he make you do bad things?" Of course, that might just all depend on what one's definition of bad was.
"He did, he was scared of doctors."
Great. Just like out of a textbook on abnormal psychology. Perhaps too similar. She leaned in, in confidence. "Are you scared of doctors?"
"Not anymore. Some of them are nice, but my father's doctors were bad people."
The doctor's curiosity was piqued, more so than it already was. "What did they do to you?"
"They put things inside my body. They were going to make me perfect. It didn't work, and they put people inside my head." Quentari fidgeted inside of the restraining clothing. It was amazing that people did not go stark staring raving mad within five minutes of being put into one of those jackets.
"I see," she said. She had noted the request for freedom of movement, and thought of ways to grant that request. She kept on in her questioning, and simply had no idea what she might be getting herself into. "Are those people still there?"
The child chuckled darkly, with far more maturity and depth than he should have. "They're gone now, because my inner child killed them." The boy's demeanor changed to a distinctively more sinister one. "My inner child is ten years old and killed my father becasue he beat me." He stared at Adeline, devoid completely of emotion. It was unnerving.
It was one thing to read about such things in a book and entirely another to experience it first hand. It was a classic case. And yet, she found herself being sucked in, like it was unavoidable. She knew that Dr. Larkinn had given the man some sedatives, in the hopes that it would keep him sedate enough to talk. As their conversation progressed, she took note of the drugs wearing off and subtle changes in speech and mannerisms. She noted too that Quentari said his inner child was ten, but the "boy" inside had said he was seven.
Unsure why, she took a leap of faith. "You really want to get out, don't you."
"Yes," came the simple reply.
Dr. Frostt glanced over the list of drugs. "Would you like to make a deal with me?"
"If it means I can take this damn thing off and leave for a while, I'd shoot myself in the foot." Even though it was said in the middle of a chuckle, there was no doubt that if that were an option to the given end, he would do just that.
She gave a slow smile. "I don't think that will be necessary. OK, I can cut down on how many drugs you're getting and I can get you out of restraints. I just need something from you."
"Yeah?" Threads of impatience laced through his brief question.
"Promise me you'll take all your pills, keep with them. That will help you keep control over yourself. I know that's what you really want. It shouldn't be too hard." Such naivete. While it was a refreshing burst in a land such as this, now was hardly the time to showcase it.
Quentari gave her a wide smile. "I promise." A little too wide? Only time would tell. And only one person's ass would be on the line. Quentari, really, had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Adeline smiled back. "I'll try and be here for when they give you your medication. I want to help you keep it up. I care about you and your well-being." In a gesture of unmitigated trust, she moved around behind him and unhinged the clasps of the jacket.
"God, I can't tell you how GOOD that feels!" He moved his arms in broad circular gestures for the first time in over a month. "All right. Thanks a lot, Doc. When can I leave?" She should have guessed by Quentari's words that she was no more than incidental, but it escaped her.
"I'm glad I could solve your problem so easily. Leaving, I'll have to talk to Larkinn about. But you'll be free to move about the ward and hospital as you want. You can have Elliot page me just about any time you need. I'm not much on sleep."
He looked at the doorway suspiciously. "So ... I can go out there?" He hesitated. He was free, yes, but it seemed too good to be true, and it was like he was waiting for this sudden reprieve to be revoked.
"Sure. Just remember, you mess up, and it's my ass on the line." She saw his hesitation and began to head out into the hallway herself. "Come on. I don't think it will bite you."
He rose from his bed and started out the door, each step careful and measured. "Wow. Oh, hey. I just hope I don't kill anyone while I'm out. It'd be a shame to get such a nice ass in trouble." He smiled at her. It was a calculating smile. One reminiscent of the vacanct look one saw in a shark or in the turn of the lips of a serial killer.
For a moment, she looked concerned. Then she realized that he was kidding and shook her head. They walked to the psychiatric ward nurses' station, receiving more than one strange look from the nurse on duty. Dr. Frostt just smiled calmly to her as she signed Quentari out with 'Therapist in Practice. Assistant to Larkinn.' "We all have anger issues." Whether this was directed to Quentari or the nurse was uncertain, but they both received the message.
As Quentari made his way to the stairs, he turned and made a final comment to Adeline. "Yeah. I killed five of my childhood doctors when I escaped, I think ..."