This is going to begin as three "one-shots" (they're related but not a continuous story). Eventually this will move on to a connected storyline and the whole "Supernatural" (yes, Rhea is special). Sam and Dean will eventually show up, but it will probably be somewhere around Chapter 5ish.

UPDATE as of 8/15/2017: This story is currently on temporary hiatus as I work on another work that is going to involve Rhea Thorton. The other work will be a Supernatural/Arrow crossover and will take place before this, providing some history and character relationships (such as how the Winchesters met Rhea, a little sneak peak into what she is, and other stuff). So, until that story is complete (it will be a 13-chapter arc), this is going to be put on hold. Sorry. I might add the third chapter of this just to complete the beginning arc/intro, we'll see.

"Insanity is often the logic of an accurate mind overtasked."

~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

Rhea counted in her head.

One, two, three, four, five, six…

When she reached ten she waited one second and just as she expected a bell chimed out.

She began again. On until she reached one hundred times.

Then she started over.

When she had done this a hundred more times she started over from the top.

Sets of tens, hundreds, thousands. One after another, repeating. All concentrated on the chime of a bell.

A man silently watched her. Staring at her face as if it could reveal some truth within. As if the passive, firm face would expose. He waited patiently until his phone rang. The man frowned, glancing at the screen again, then answered the phone with a forced "Hello."

A few minutes passed and the man's face shifted from agitation to a nearly primal glee. When he hung up, his voice was cheerful and a grin was on his face.

His eyes turned back to Rhea and the smile deepened.

Yes, this was going to be good.

Will Graham and Rhea Thorton together, under his control.

Luck was certainly on his side.

"The Baltimore Institute for the Criminally Insane," Rhea murmured. "The Baltimore Institute for the Criminally Insane. The Baltimore…" her eyes narrowed and they darted to the door when a loud bang interrupted her, "… Institute for the Criminally Insane." The litany continued even as guards passed her with their purposeful gait, only one or two pausing to glance for barely a few seconds.

It was when a gathering of guards stopped at the square cell next to hers that Rhea lowered her voice and sent a questioning look to Aaron, the only guard who had ever shown her a hint of kindness. His impassive face made her frown and focus on the commotion next to her. Within a few seconds a two more guards were leading a man to the cell next to hers.

With the amount of people who were standing by, Rhea knew that they thought he was a threat. They, of course, were imbeciles.

One glance and she knew that whatever this man had been accused of was a lie. She had been inside too many killers' and sadists' minds to not know a crazy person when she saw one. This man just looked defeated. And full of fury.

The guards carefully put him in the cell and once they were certain everything was settled all but Aaron and one other guard left. The two who remained went to wait by the door.

Rhea snorted and sent an unamused look to one of the cameras Chilton was obviously monitoring them on. If this was an attempt to get her to open up, the doctor was going to be disappointed.

The only person Rhea ever revealed the truth of herself to ended up accusing her of murder. It didn't matter there was no evidence that proved Rhea guilty, all that mattered is that when Dr. Chilton interviewed her he saw evidence of a psychosis so deadly that she was convicted. Now she was here.

"I assume you're new," Rhea broached.

Even if she wasn't going to satisfy Chilton by giving something away, didn't mean she couldn't figure out what made Chilton think that this method was going to work.

"Excuse me?" the man's eyes were quizzical, his head tilted slightly, and an agitation to him that Rhea empathized with.

"I'm assuming you've just arrived. Otherwise we'd have had this conversation already. Chilton isn't someone who keeps the cat in the bag long enough to build anticipation. He's much…" Rhea broke off as a bird screamed outside; her eyes caught its swooping movement and she followed it for a second, memorizing each turn and dive as it beat its wings, "…too pretentious." She turned to the man but whatever amusement she had been hoping to feel vanished when that bird swooped too low and was lost.

"I'm beginning to see that. Will Graham," the man introduced, giving a nod.

"Rhea Thorton."

There was a pause.

"Rhea Thorton as in the serial killer?"

The woman frowned and turned to face Will. "Rhea Thorton as in the girl no one believes. But if you're Will Graham, then you're the boy no one believes. So a greeting is in order. Welcome to the Baltimore Institute for the Criminally Convicted and the Reasonably Sane. Not that anyone sees that. Except me. And now you." She shot Will a wink. One he didn't seem to inclined to accept, but Rhea was already looking out the window again; wondering if somewhere, that bird was still flying high, untouched by the sky.

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeoning of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul

"Invictus" William Ernest Henley