This is a follow-up to Return to Thorny Towers. You can still read this if you haven't read RTTT, it's not a complete continuity lockout, although you'll have to take my word for some things.

I actually wrote this years ago, after I realized I didn't have the skill to finish RTTT as the story I wanted, but when I was still determined to do the best I could. I was feeling sad, and lonely, and I liked the idea of this, so I just sat down and wrote it all out in one sitting since I knew how the previous story ended. I never published it before, though, because publishing a sequel to a story you haven't yet finished is a major dick move, in my opinion.

Also, yes, there are plenty of other doctors and nurses other than Dr. Forever and Nurse Hidaka. It's just easier if it's always the same ones.

Fred had only been to Shady Pines once before, and he hadn't been driving. In fact, his mind had been so distracted he couldn't even properly recall what state they had been in, let alone what city, what street, what building. He had gotten directions, and now that he was actually driving out here himself, he sort of remembered. The streets looked familiar, at least.

Eventually, the buildings thinned out and there were more trees and fields, until he finally hit the property line of Shady Pines. He parked his car in the sun, rather than under a pine tree, and sat in his car for a few minutes before collecting himself and getting out. He first fished a small duffel bag out of the backseat, and then locked up and crossed the parking lot. He had parked at the very back of the lot so he could spend as much time as possible outside, putting off the inevitable in favor of fresh air. From here he could see some picnic tables, and the edge of a basketball court on the side of the building. Some patients were sitting outside, something Fred wished he'd been allowed to do when he was a patient at Thorney Towers.

He certainly didn't miss being an orderly, although Shady Pines was very different from Thorny Towers. There it was constantly busy, and loud, and hectic at all hours because of the enormous patient load, the severity of their mental disturbance, and the skeleton crew due to employees either moving or being committed. In contrast, Shady Pines was nice, quiet, relaxing, and tranquil. Fred could see himself working in a place like this, if he was ever inclined to go back into his old field. Which was unlikely. He was perfectly happy preparing tax returns for the rest of his life. Well, not happy. Content. Maybe. At least he didn't have to be constantly reminded of his raw past while he was working.

Inside, he asked the woman at the front desk for Nurse Hidaka, the only employee here he knew (well, the only one that ever talked to him.) While he waited, the receptionist called a security guard who looked through Fred's bag and approved everything to be brought in. Nurse Hidaka arrived right afterwards. "Hello, Fred," she said pleasantly. "I got your message. I'm so glad you made it here today."

"Yeah, me too," said Fred. "How's Crispin been doing? I mean, whatever you can tell me," he added, remembering the restrictions of patient confidentiality.

Nurse Hidaka gestured for Fred to follow him, and as they walked through the building, she talked. "He's a completely different man than he was before the... well, before all that unpleasantness. I'm not sure what that all was, really. Before he left he was catatonic. Now he talks, he walks around, he feeds himself, he reads- with some help, of course..."

"Does he talk to the other patients?"

"No, he doesn't engage anyone unless he has to. He prefers to be alone, and he's not too polite to anyone who tries to talk to him."

"That's Crispin, all right."

"Dr. Forever usually makes him spend time in the common rooms, to socialize him, but he gets awfully withdrawn when he has to."

"Then, if it's all right, we'll just stay in his room."

"Thank you for coming by," said Nurse Hidaka. "Why did you ask for me, specifically?"

Fred's face went pink as he bit the answer on his tongue to keep it from escaping on it's own. Quickly, he gave the pre-approved answer he'd already come up with. "Because I know you, and I feel more comfortable talking to people I've already met. You know, after, uh... all my unpleasantness," he finished lamely.

"Visiting hours are over at five," said Nurse Hidaka as they stopped in front of Crispin's room. She opened the door. It was just as sparse and small as before, without a single personal item on display. No pictures, no books, no trinkets, nothing. It was as if no one lived here, except for the person who was currently very obviously living here.

Crispin was sitting on his bed, leaning against the window with his cheek pressed against the glass. He didn't greet them, but it was obvious he knew they were there. "Crispin," said Nurse Hidaka, making sure to speak clearly. "You have a visitor."

Crispin turned to face them and squinted his eyes. Since leaving Thorny Towers, Crispin had gone completely blind. The constant exposure to the psitanium, in addition to aggravating his mental problems, had blessed him with the ability to perform clairvoyance, so that he didn't lose the world completely. Fred had a feeling he was trying to use it now, to see the guest, but it didn't work because Nurse Hidaka wasn't looking at him.

"Is that you, Fred?" Crispin guessed.

"Yeah," said Fred. "How did you know?"

"You've got a rather interesting perspective on the world, if you know what I mean." Crispin gestured his hand upwards.

"I'll be around later," said Nurse Hidaka. "Have fun, you two." She left, closing the door behind her. There was a large glass window in the door, so that they were never truly alone.

"She doesn't know about our history together, does she?" Crispin asked, sitting up straight.

"Not really," said Fred. "How have you been?"

"Wonderful," said Crispin, "except they won't let me out of here. And even if they did, I have nowhere to go." He glared at Fred. "But enough about me. How have you been, living your boring and lonesome life all alone since the Psychonauts turned you out in the cold?"

"Pretty good," said Fred, irritated at Crispin's ability to pierce directly into the most sensitive parts of Fred's mind. In one brusque sentence he had opened up Fred's dissatisfaction with his job, his lack of a love life, and his insecurity about being outside of someone's protection. It really was a talent with him, tearing away someone's defenses until all that was left was a bundle of nerves.

"You're a terrible liar, General," said Crispin.

Somehow, the nickname didn't rub Fred nearly as raw as it used to.

"So what brings you here? To gloat that I'm still the only member of our old assembly who's still committed?"

"No," said Fred. "Although, if you hadn't played possum for a year, they might be more willing to turn you loose." He was still amazed at the sheer willpower that must have taken, to play the drooling mental patient who couldn't talk, couldn't think, and definitely couldn't be a threat to a secret organization. Too bad it hadn't entirely worked.

"They're never going to turn me loose," said Crispin. "They don't think I have the capacity to function outside of this place."

"Well, do you?"

Crispin sneered, but didn't answer. Fred wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with Crispin. He seemed normal enough. But still, if they were keeping him here, there had to be a reason.

"Actually, I brought you something." Fred sat down on the bed, his legs kicked out awkwardly, as he picked up his duffel bag, pulled out an oblong box, and showed it to Crispin.

"I can't see it if you show it to me, you ninny," said Crispin. "Hold it up in front of your face."

Fred held the box at arms length, so that he could see the whole front of the box. It was an old, battered, but complete copy of Waterloo-O. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crispin grin. "Oh, I see. You want to join me here, is that it?"

"No," said Fred. "I just want a friendly game."

"Well, you're not getting one. Open her up, let's see what's there."

They both slid down to the floor and began to take out the pieces, setting up the board. Crispin was slower and more clumsy, as Fred was focused more on his own side of the board and only saw Crispin's through his peripheral vision. Still, Crispin stoutly refused to ask for help of any sort. Before long, they were ready.

Fred's moves were slow at first. He spent far more time building up his defenses than attacking of any kind. Crispin, on the other hand, was much more relaxed. He had never lost a game to Fred before, and though Fred had been compulsively practicing for half a century, Crispin still had a clear edge. That's because both of them knew, quite well, how this game had affected them in the past. Namely, Fred a lot, and Crispin not at all.

Still, as the game went on, Crispin had to admit that Fred was a worthy opponent. His moves were much less transparent, and his strategy far more complex than anything from the old days. Perhaps Napoleon had beaten more than just the love of victory back into him. Perhaps some of his military strategy had rubbed off. Crispin smirked, as the mental image was more that of a man who had been possessed by the spirit of his ancestor rather than one psychotically channeling the stereotypical caricature of Napoleon.

Eventually, it proved to have been for nothing, as Crispin placed his knight in Fred's stronghold, winning the game for the 28th time. He flashed a cheeky grin at Fred, but said nothing. His wooden game piece said more than enough. If only he could see Fred's expression.

Fred sighed, and it was more of a resigned sigh than a disappointed one. "Well, that's that, then."

"That's what?"

"I just wanted to see if I could stand to lose to you."

"Oh, so you knew you were going to lose?"

"Of course I knew," said Fred. "You cheat."

Crispin was offended. "What? I've never cheated at this game. Not once."

"Crispin, you can't very well change your side of the board when you think I'm not looking, if the only time you can see your board is when I'm looking."

Crispin bit his lip. He'd forgotten he was using Fred's eyes this whole time. He wondered if he could get himself a seeing eye dog, and train it to watch the game board for him while he made his moves. "How long have you known?"

"Well, I wasn't sure at first," said Fred. "I mean, it didn't really occur to me when we were having our... ill-fated tournament, I guess you could call it. And I know you don't do it every time, so I do lose on my own. But after I began obsessively replaying all of our games over and over in my head, I began to realize that they didn't all add up. At first I thought that maybe I was just making excuses, that the losing wasn't my fault. But after a while, I guess I felt that it shouldn't matter. That I should have been able to win anyway."

"You thought that, or Napoleon thought that?"

"We're the same person," said Fred.

"Could've fooled me."

"I really just came here for one final test. Just to prove to myself that he was never coming back." Fred stretched his stubby arms and began to pack up the box. "I'll be getting out of your hair now. I probably won't be coming back."

Fred watched Crispin get up and move back to his bed, and then turned to leave. He thought Crispin looked a bit disappointed, though he couldn't tell if he was actually sad to see his visitor go or miffed that he hadn't gotten under his skin like before.

On his way out, he passed Nurse Hidaka again. "Leaving so soon?"

"Yeah. We're not exactly..." Fred had a thought. "Hey, Nurse Hidaka? Is there any chance he'll ever get out of here?"

"I can't really say," said Nurse Hidaka with a stand-offish frown. She glanced over her shoulder and leaned up to Fred, who leaned in close. "But off the record? No. Not if he doesn't have someone at home with him. He doesn't even need full-time care. He just can't live alone, and no one will take him."

"I see," said Fred. So no chance of him getting out and tracking Fred down. He was free.

So why did he still feel like he was trapped in a straitjacket?