Title: The Lunatic in the Asylum

Author: Insane Elven Pirate

Rating: T, 'cuz that's how the show's rated.

Summary: Zack meets a patient in the mental institution who claims to have been framed for murder. The only problem is nobody will believe her becasue she is a schizophrenic. Can Brennan and her team find proof of her innocence or will a killer get away with murder? (Casefic)

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, and I am in no way affiliated with Bones or its creators/writers/directers/crew/etc.

Author's Note: If you notice any errors, PLEASE feel free to point them out so I can fix them. I do read over my works, but sometimes I'm not very thorough.

Also, as far as the scientific stuff goes I try to do my research, but if you notice any errors, please be gentle! I'm trying! Oh, and as far as the asylum go, I tried to do some research as to what it would be like for criminals, but I couldn't find much. So as much as I hate to do it, I'm kinda just... guessing. Please forgive any errors.

Enjoy! The more reviews I get, the faster I will post new chapters so hit that button! And if you people like the fic enough, I have ideas for several sequals! :)

Also, the summary may change. I'm not sure if it describes the story well enough.

- - -

White. Everything was white. Except for the bars. They were silver.

Zachary Uriah Addy lay on his white bed staring up at the white ceiling. The smell of disinfectant that constantly lingered in the air made his nose itch, and he rubbed at it absent-mindedly. A faint cry echoed down the hall, so pitiful and helpless it would have made him cringe if he weren't so used to it by now.

There was nothing to do here but stare and study the patterns made by the cracks in the paint on the walls and ceiling. This morning they had moved him to a new room (the old one had a plumbing issue,) so now he had new cracks to study. Before, in his old life as Dr. Zack Addy, forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian, he might have been bored by such meaningless pasttimes. But that life was gone. A fading memory, nothing more. Now he was Dr. Zack Addy, just another lost soul at the Fairview Asylum.

His days here were pretty monotonous. He followed a strict schedule. At 6 AM every morning, a gaurd would enter his room to wake him up. They would lead him down to the communal bathroom where he would shower, get dressed, brush his teeth and comb his hair all while being watched by three gaurds and surrounded by several other patients. Privacy didn't exist in a place like this. His gaurd would then retrieve him and walk him to the cafeteria where he would eat breakfast. They would chain his feet to the table, which was bolted to the floor. The patients were arranged so that they sat no less than five feet apart from each other. After sevuring him, the gaurd would bring him his breakfast and morning medications. The gaurd would watch him take the medication, and then he'd be required to open his mouth and lift his tongue so the gaurd could shne a flashlight in his mouth to ensure that he had swallowed the pills. Then he'd be allowed to eat. They served the same lumpy, tasteless porridge every day except for Sunday. On Sunday, he got to choose between pancakes and french toast.

After breakfast came alone time in his room. After determining that he wasn't a threat to himself, his psychiatrist had given him a spiral bound notebook and a pen to use as a journal. She had told him he could use it to write down his thoughts and sort things out with himself. He didn't use it much. At 10 AM on Tusdays, Thursadays, and Saturdays he had his appoitment with Dr. Litner. She would ask him questions and he would nod or shake his head in response. He never spoke during those sessions. He never spoke to anyone here. His silence was like a fortress, protecting him from what he didn't want to face. When his session was over at 11, the gaurd would return him to his room. He would remain there until noon, when they brought him back to the cafeteria for lunch. There, the gaurd would bring him whatever they were serving for lunch that day, usually something that had once been food, but had been slowly cooked until it lost all flavor. Usually he ate it without much thought, but sometimes he would find himself longing for the macaroni he used to eat on a daily basis.

Visiting hours started after lunch. Mostly he would just spend this time in his room, but sometimes one of his friends would visit. Dr. Brennan had visited once, accompanied by Booth. Booth hadn't said anything to him at all and Dr. Brennan had just asked him things like how he was doing and if he was being taken care of, but that was fine.

Angela visited the most, five times total. Her visits were the nicest. She would smile and tell him about things that were happening back at the Jeffersonian. It almost made him feel as if he were still included.

Dr. Saroyan had visited twice, though both times had been for the sole purpose of dropping off stuff for him, so she hadn't stayed for more than five minutes. The first time she brought him a box of his stuff that had been at the lab. The second time she had brought him a pair of black gloves and a stack of books, mostly books on mathmatics principles and theories, but there was also a book entitled Artemis Fowl, which Dr. Saroyan had said he might enjoy as a bit of light reading. So far he hadn't opened any of them. He did wear the gloves, though. He rarely took them off.

Hodgins hadn't visited at all.

During the visits, Zach never made eye contact and spoke very little. It felt intensely strange to talk with the people he had once worked with, while he sat cuffed to a cold metal chair that, like everything else in the facility, was bolted to the floor. Despite all this, though, he found himself craving the times when the gaurd would enter his room, telling him he had a visitor. Unfortunately, these moments were occuring less and less frequently.

At 3 PM a nurse would bring him his afternoon pills. She would watch him while he took them, and just like in the morning, he would obediantly open his mouth and lift his tongue so that she could make sure he had swallowed them. Then he would wait until 6PM, when dinner was served. He was led back to the cafeteria, served dinner, and then escorted back to his room for more time alone. He had a lot of that here. Finally, at 10 PM, the nurse would come in, give him a sleeping pill, check that he had swallowed, and the gaurd would lock the door to his room after she left. He would fall into dreamless, drug-induced sleep before waking up the next morning when the whole routine would start again.

It had taken some adjusting to, but he had gracefully fallen into the routine rather quickly. And once he had grown accustomed to it, had found a strange sense of peace in it's reptetiveness.

Until the routine was broken.

The clock bolted to the wall stated that it was 2:13 PM. He was lying on top of his matress staring at the cracks on the ceiling of his new room. He was thinking about anything and everything to keep his mind off of why he was here.

The knocking started softly at first, just three quite taps on the left wall which his bed was pressed up against. tap tap tap. Then again, a little louder. Tap Tap Tap. Again, louder still. Tap Tap Tap! This kept up until whoever was in the room got fed up with it and finally spoke. "Hey!" The voice was hushed, a whisper, but it sounded female. "I know you're in there!"

Zach didn't respond. He was used to hearing cries and the occasional screams from his neighbors, but they had never tried communicating with him.

"Why don't you answer me?" The voice was impatient, demanding. "Ohhh... I get it... You're that new guy. The one that never talks."

Zach turned his head to stare at the wall. He wasn't aware that the other patients had even noticed him, much less that he had a reputation for never talking.

"Is it true that you eat people?" Zach flinched at the question, trying to ignore the pain it brought.

It was silent for a while. The question hung heavily in the air, it's weight boring down on him. He wanted desperately to protest it, to correct the assumption it made. But he hadn't spoken to anyone here since his arrival. Could he break his silence for this? Finally, after long deliberation, he spoke, slowly and uncomfortably, "I didn't actually eat anyone..."

The voice seemed excited that he had said something, and eagerly pressed for more, "Yeah, but you would've eventually, right?"

Zach didn't respond this time. Instead, he rolled over, facing away from the wall. The woman in the next room kept trying to get him to say something else, but when it was clear he wasn't going to respond, she eventually gave up.

- - -

Ok, I know this first chapter is short. I actually have a LOT more written, this is really just a teaser that I'm posting because I've reached a bit of a standstill. I figured I'd keep posting small portions to give me a break until I figure out how I want to continue. It's hard writing casefics.