AN: Hello, this is my first Dennor story, including a lot of angst, mental illness and exploration of what it is to be human and what makes us individual beings. I hope you enjoy, please review to let me know what you liked and disliked. Other pairings will include HongIce and SuFin. Thank you~
The popping of the rye bread from the toaster roused Tino from his morning haze, startling the gentle man into a more conscious state. The watery winter sun trickled through the window, The thin fingers of frost making their claim of the unglazed pains. Lucas really should get Berwald to fit better ones, Tino pondered, perhaps he would leave the man a note on his pillow… though if Emil found it the depressed teenager may destroy it out of his aimless spite, and Tino had no power to persuade the boy otherwise.
The man sighed. Sometimes, it was frustrating having no way to communicate with others besides notes and through Lukas himself – sometimes, when he wasn't blocking them out with drugs or phycotherapy or the like. Poor man, it wasn't his fault he was cursed by their presence. And it really was a curse. He was regarded as an invalid amongst 'normal' members of society, and Tino couldn't argue that the constant switching made normal life near impossible for the Norwegian.
Shrugging the thought away – not being one to ponder his troubles – Tino grabbed the bread, downing the meal quickly and sparing a minute to place the metal cross clip Lukas so loved in the top drawer of the dresser, the place the man always knew to look for it when he regained his consciousness. He was luck if it was Tino to remove it, as the others weren't always so considerate, Berwald usually placing it in whatever pocket or shelf or drawer he first saw, and Emil… Well, if the boy was in a good mood he may too put it in an easy place; if not he could hide it so Lukas would have to wait until Emil was back to regain his possession.
It was when Tino was preparing to do some housework that he felt the unpleasant pull at his consciousness – not a painful sensation but unnatural end every time he had to go through this Tino felt like he was dying. In a way, he was. It wasn't as if he were simply falling asleep, not when the body carried on going; not when the even the mind was still awake, simply out of Tino's control. It was scary, and very few things scared the Fin. Feeling the world go hazy, he realised the type of transition it was to be and prepared accordingly. Hastily, he took a seat, laying the body down as for it to not fall and get injured.
Things were getting harder to process, and finally his lids blinked shut, him taking his place in the back of the body's mind, asleep, yet awake. Dead, yet alive.
And then, as was the usual routine, the icy glare was revealed as cold eyes glanced round the room. Emil swore, and hit the wall. Today, he was angry.
Victoria Mental Ward, London
"Take a seat please," came the kind, lively yet professional voice of the doctor, the tone so familiar after spending the past five years in and out of mental wards and counselling and therapy that Lukas almost rolled his eyes.
Lukas had flown from his hometown in Norway to England, a leading force in phycology, where he would be staying in one of the most renowned mental wards of Europe under the care of the young yet esteemed doctor Matthias Bondevik, a man native to Denmark, his accent still prominent even when speaking in hospital linguacy, when he was meant to be as little 'human' as possible in order to put his patients first.
It was debated in the medical world whether this was the cause of his success. The twenty five year old had graduated university early and with flying colours, starting out in the crazy world of mental illness treatment a rookie like the rest, yet proving himself faster than he could be promoted.
Inevitably, his name was often the first to be recommended, the most lusted after, and most likely the first to be dismissed when a mental patient was considering treatment. Such talent was not offered on the NHS or any other medical plan. His treatment was for the rich only, his price reflecting the near hundred percent success rate he had when it came to his therapy, and the thought that he would offer his service to an ordinary – if someone as mentally messed up as Lukas could be considered ordinary – young man forced to pull out of college because of his disorder was unheard of, yet here Lukas was, and there Matthias was sitting across from him.
Lukas crossed his harms, let out a slight sigh. Same old so far, there was nothing special about the man that he could tell, if not for the unusual hairstyle for a hospital or the genuine friendliness in his eyes. In his years of attempted and failed treatment, Lukas had learned to become sceptical. If this man was offering treatment free, then maybe he was slacking; or maybe he was losing he edge. Whatever.
"What are you thinking right now?" Matthias asked.
"I haven't even introduced myself and you are already interrogating me?"
"Ah, so annoyed, and frustrated."
Lukas held back a groan. He couldn't complain, which was perhaps the source of his annoyance. That, and this man was genuinely more annoying than any other doctor he'd had, and he had only met him for less than two minutes.
"Look," Matthias said, "The way my treatment works is by getting to know my patients individual and extensively. That means that I won't behave like a friend, nor a doctor, but both. It is a method that has proven very well in my experience. Now tell me about yourself."
Taken aback by how quickly the man's demeanour changed, Lukas could do nothing but reply. "My name is Lukas Bondevik. I'm from Norway and I have had Multiple Personality disorder for over seven years."
"So when about would you say it started?"
"When I was about sixteen?"
Matthias took a few notes, then looked back up at his patient. Lukas couldn't be bothered to act annoyed any more.
"Why are you asking? My file should tell you much more than that." Lukas inquired.
"Oh, it does, but I prefer to hear the basics from a patient. It would be strange to just assume I know your life story after reading a few pieces of paper… Moving on! You have been suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder – or as you called it Multiple personality disorder – for several years now, and we'll discuss more of that later, but just for now could you tell me a bit about – would you like me to call them your alters?"
Lukas nodded, "That's fine. Well… first there's Emil, the first one I developed. Um… I don't know what to say, really."
"I'd like to know their age and name, obviously. Usually each alter has a few defining factors which make them significant, and the more we meet them the more we will be able to understand why you subconsciously developed them in the first place. Just introduce me, I guess."
"Okay, so Emil is in his mid teens, though I don't know his exact age. Normally when I switch to him he will either be angry and break things, doing anything he can to hurt me, or childlike. It's like he's a different person when he's in each mood, but I know he's the same person at heart."
Matthias pondered his words, his finger's flashing on the keyboard of the computer. "That is unusual for an alter. What I usually see is for one distinct emotion or memory to be separated into the alternate personality. It is usually the mind's way of protecting the individual from whatever harm it may bring, but you say it is like he's two different people?" Lukas nodded his assent. "Well, this is useful information. It will play a big part in your diagnosis. Now tell me about the others."
"Next there is Berwald. He is twenty seven and quiet – he speaks to me the least of the three. He is… like a workman, fixing things; he has a lot of skill in woodwork and the like. I'd say he's quite shy and prefers to be left alone. I'll always wake up after him taking over inside my house. He even made one of my rooms into a workshop, even though I left a note for him to not to."
Matthias smiled at that, then gestured for him to continue.
"Last is Tino. He is friendly, and kind, and is always doing nice things for me. He's the sort who will tidy the house and look after my things when I switch. He talks a lot to me sometimes, I think I know the most about him, though other times it's like he's scared he's disturbing me and won't speak for days, even weeks."
"Like he feels guilty?" Matthias pondered.
"Yes."
Lukas sat in silence while Matthias typed. The man observed his doctor's face, the way his brow creased in concentration, how his tongue stuck out slightly. Maybe this wouldn't be a pointless task after all. Despite being sceptical at the beginning, Lukas allowed a part of him to wonder – hope – that finally he would be getting effective help.
"Why do you want to get rid of us though," A voice in his head: Emil. He could imagine the boys pout on a faceless figure, and even though he knew it was silly, he felt a pang of guilt. After putting up with his alters so long, they had become like real people and he always felt like he will trying to kill them by getting treatment.
"You never wanted me around, did you?"
'Please shut up.' Lukas thought back.
"Why? You have travelled to another country to shut me, so why should I make the effort?"
'You're not real; you're part of me.'
"But am I?"
"Shut up!" Lukas exclaimed aloud. Matthias jumped, his hands slamming the keyboard and his eyes widening in surprise. However, he calmed down quickly, just like the professional he was said to be.
"Is someone speaking you you?"
"Yes," Lukas gritted his teeth, face reddening in embarrassment, "Emil."
"What's he saying?"
"He's angry that I'm trying to get rid of him."
"That's understandable," he paused in thought, "what will normally happen after someone speaks to you?"
"Sometimes I'll take over, sometimes Lukas shuts me up." It was Lukas' mouth moving, but the words coming out of them weren't his. Interestingly, the tonation of Emil compared to his host was similar, almost identical, with a monotonous rhythm and lack of enthusiasm. But unlike Lukas, who spoke with the refined dignity of a man confident in himself, Emil's voice was higher, more vulnerable and childlike, despite the challenging frown he shot at Matthias.
"Why did you take over, Emil?" Matthias challenged, trying to hide his frustration of the first session being disrupted. He wanted to get to know Lukas, after all, not the bizarre bank of stored personalities who claimed to be individual thinking beings in the same body.
"Why wouldn't I? It is stuffy in there," the boy – for Matthias had decided he was younger if not physically then mentally – pouted.
"Fair point," the doctor sighed, unfazed. You could hand that to him. Most people would freak out even if they were professionals. "So, what do you expect to do now, I was in the middle of counselling Lukas, and you are prolonging his illness by interrupting him like this. He mentioned you were angry about him getting treatment." Matthias kept a cool, constant tone throughout.
"I-I…" Emil trailed off, his already red face becoming yet more crimson, turning his head away. He didn't make any further effort to speak.
Matthias sighed again. He thought he may as well make the most of the situation, even if it wasn't ideal. There was still much to gain through becoming better acquainted to each alter. "How old are you, Emil?" He asked in a softer tone, like he was talking to a physical child.
"Sixteen," The boy replied, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the floor.
"Lukas tells me that you are sometimes very angry, Emil. You seemed angry when you first switched, but now you seem shy. Why is that?"
"Why do you care anyway?" Emil shot back, finally looking him in the eye, "you're treating Lukas, not me. It's me you're trying to kill!"
"Emil, this isn't killing you. What you need to understand is that you are Lukas."
"… I'm Emil. I have been since forever."
"Just liste-"
"I've had enough of this," Emil snapped, "Where am I staying? I want to go there."
"I can't let you do that, now. The point of this assessment was to find out where would be best for Lukas to stay while he is in England, and since you interrupted it we will now have to wait until I Lukas gets his consciousness back to continue."
"Let me go!" Emil whined, suddenly looking very distressed, "you can't keep me here, let me go!"
"Please calm-"
"No, stop it! What are you going to do, rape me, hit me k-" Just as sudden as his outburst was, the boy dropped unconscious to the floor without warning, the body limp and crumpled like a discarded item of clothing.
Now Matthias understood what was so special about this case, why Lukas Bondevik had been referred to him out of everyone else. This was the most unusual and potentially dangerous case of DID he had encountered as of yet, and he had only spent less than an hour with the man.
Calling in security, he had Lukas' body carried to one of the temporary rooms where he would be watched 24/7 until he woke up. And when he did wake up… so would begin Matthias' challenge.