James Potter had been there for four months, one week, two days, and six hours.

Four months, one week, two days, and six hours since he'd been wrongly accused of murdering his whole family and locked away in Azkaban Asylum for the Criminally Insane. According to the police report, around 3 am, May 5th, he got out of bed and drowned his sister, next shooting his parents as they slept. What the police report didn't write down was James' own injuries to the back of the head.

He had woken up to the sound of water running in the bathroom, and stood to go see why it was going so late. He'd seen the flooding in the hallway, saw his ten year old sister floating in the tub, and tried to wake her-that's why his own DNA was on her body. The shots went off, and when he'd gotten to his parents room-BAM. Someone knocked him on the head and planted fake evidence against him. His ranting and screaming about how it wasn't him was just enough to weasel him out of the death penalty and into innocence by insanity.

Four months, one week, two days, and six hours since he'd been treated by Dr. Lily Evans, a gentle therapist who never shot down his claims of innocence. She always started their daily sessions with the same question: "What do you remember from that night?" The facts never changed. He could tell her exactly how the shadows fell on the pictures decorating the hallway. Exactly how cold his sister was and the shade of blue her lips were. Then she would ask, "If it wasn't you, who was it?"

He didn't know who had done it, who could have. His parents were kind, loving people. They were rich, yes, but they donated enough time and money to good causes that it couldn't be considered a condemning factor.

And now they were gone, and the whole country blamed James.

"Mr. Potter?" The door to his room-his cell, creaked open. A woman with a strict brown bun, but sweet face had stuck her head into the room. Two burly orderlies were standing behind her. "It's time for your medicine; afterwards you may sit in the Day Room until your time with Dr. Evans."

"Thanks, Mary." James threw her a wink, pushing himself off the bed. He downed the pills, shoving past the orderlies to saunter towards the Day Room.

The room itself was sickeningly happy, with peeling flowers and cartoon gardens painted on the walls the place looked more like a failing kindergarten than an asylum. The small number of people like him-white pajamas and hopeless expressions-had conjugated themselves near the couches or the windows. One familiar blonde head caught his eye near a dark haired orderly by the set of doors leading to the administrative wing, and then, eventually, out.

Her name was Marlene. That's all James knew about the girl who was shamelessly hanging off the black haired orderly. Who knew what she was in for; she never socialized outside of flirting with the workers. Yet for some reason they would sit by each other in comfortable silence at lunch, suffer through movie nights with shared looks at each other. He'd never heard more than "My name's Marlene, and I'm going to sit here okay?" out of her mouth. He'd never said more than his own name to her. But of course everyone knew who he was; his trial had been on the news for half of his time in here. There were people protesting his freedom, people protesting for his head on a spike, and people constantly trying to get into the asylum to get "his story".

James took his usual seat by the second window, overlooking the highway; some would say it was the worst window to sit at because who wanted to look at boring old cars? It soothed James, though. He liked to watch them drive by and make up stories for each car: a blue one that was late to a wedding; the grey minivan carrying a girls' soccer team to practice; a yellow sports car that belonged to a multimillionaire that'd just realized he really did love his secretary and was racing to stop her from getting on a plane. A police car racing to a house where three people had just been murdered and-

James jolted away from the window like he'd been electrocuted. His heart raced in his chest, and he couldn't seem to get his breath. The room was suddenly too small, and everything inch of his being was telling him something was wrong. The small logical bit of his mind told him everything was alright, he was save, but God, if he didn't feel like he was burning from the inside out. He backed up quickly, not paying attention to where he was stepping and knocked straight into Marlene (who'd noticed his sudden motion and gone over to investigate).

She grabbed his arms to steady him, but then quickly dropped her hold as she assessed the situation. "James?" She held her hands out tentatively. His panicked hazel eyes snapped to her worried brown ones.

"Let's go for a walk, yeah?" She gestured to the inner door, but James shook his head. "Is it alright if I touch you, James?"

He nodded, and Marlene dropped a comforting hand on his arm.

"You're safe." She assured him. "I'm right here."

James nodded, feeling himself relaxing slowly. After about an hour of the same sort of thing, plus a glass of cold water and a pillow, he finally started feeling normal again.

"How did you know what to do?" He asked quietly. Marlene, who'd been staring off, thinking about something or other, turned her head back.

"My mother used to have panic attacks like that all the time." She smiled, somewhat bitter sweetly. "My father was a drunk, so I'd have to take care of her. You sort of learn what to do."

"What happened to her?" James clamped his mouth shut, hoping the question wasn't too invasive.

"She's living in Vermont with my grandmother."

"And your father."

"I killed him."

He blinked. "Marlene, how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"You killed your father at eighteen?"

"No," She shook her head. "I killed my father at fifteen."

"Oh," James was suddenly a tad more wary of her. Of course, he'd known that he was surrounded by murderers and people with mental illnesses, but he'd never really thought about it extensively. Marlene seemed nice enough, intelligent too, and it really puzzled him what drove her to kill her father. Definitely not a psychotic break because she seemed stable enough. Although, she had been there for three years, and that was enough time to rehabilitate you. Or if she was a sociopath, it was enough time to learn how to mimic emotion. He unconsciously leaned away from the blonde beside him.

Marlene noticed and looked like she was going to say something, but just then Mary returned, placing a hand on James' shoulder. "Time for Dr. Evans." He almost kissed the brunette in relief.

He pushed through the doors to the administrative section and went three doors down before reaching the one reading Lily Evans, MD, PhD, and a bunch of other things James had no clue about. He pushed the door open, eyes immediately finding the redheaded doctor. She glanced up from her work, smiling comfortably.

"Afternoon, James, I'm just finishing up some papers. Please sit." She nodded to the cushioned chairs in front of her desk, and James happily obliged. Her office was homey, like her personality. The walls, a warm mahogany, were in contrast with the strict white of the rest of the building and the sickening yellow of the Day Room. Her degrees and diplomas hung on the wall to the right of the door, just over a bookcase stuffed not only with medical encyclopedias but books like The Great Gatsby, To Kill a Mockingbird, Night, and even a Bible, a Qur'an, and a few other religious texts. On his first visit James had inquired about these.

"Religious, are we?" James asked, pointing to the holy books.

"No, they're for my patients who are." Dr. Evans-Lily, as she'd insisted to be called-smiled. "I'm agnostic."

Along with these books, other things around the room provided a sense of comfort for everyone. The wood paneled floors and the comfy flannel blankets on the couch were two things more that made James forget where he was and think he was simply in a friend's home. She didn't have any personal photos hanging, but there was one of the hospital staff and another of the patients sitting atop her file cabinet.

Lily herself even dressed in a comforting way. Her color pallet was warm yellows, oranges and browns. The coat she usually wore when walking through the patient living quarters was hanging on a coat hanger in the back corner of the room. She had a yellow sleeveless blouse on, that was tucked into a long skirt with a marigold and poppy pattern. Her hair fell in waves over her right shoulder, a small braid from just above her left ear circled through her hair, holding it back from falling on one side.

She shuffled her papers, seemingly finished, and put them away in her file cabinet. She circled around to the other side of her desk, and leaned against the corner. "Tell me about that night." James recited the familiar story, but something was different about how Lily was listening. Once James had completed, he stared at her expectantly while she watched the door.

"I believe you're innocent." She said suddenly, green eyes flickering down to meet his.

"Y-you do?"

"Have since the first time they brought you in here."

"Then why am I still here!" James jumped from his chair. "Get me out of here!"

"I tried to arrange for your release in June, but with no proof of whom really did it..." She trailed off, looking sadly at the door again.

"There's nothing you can do." He slumped back in his chair, disheartened again.

"Not exactly." He felt, rather than saw, Lily take the seat next to him. Her hand came to rest on his knee, and her eyes sought his out. "There's a way I can get you out, but, well, it's dangerous, James, and highly illegal."

"What do you mean?"

"I can break you out." She moved back to behind her desk, pulling open a drawer and taking out a folded bit of paper. She unfolded it, and James could immediately tell it was a map. She took a red pen from her clipboard and traced a path. "There's a way, if you go to the basement and through the kitchen, there's a delivery zone where you can hop on a truck and ride it out. I've got an orderly to smuggle you clothes in, and he'll help you out. I trust him with my life."

"When should I go?" James reached for the map.

Lily shook her head. "Oh the doors are sealed from the inside; you have to get dish duty."

"How do I do that?"

"Start a fight," She winced, probably aware of how tricky that was going to be. "Once you're in, hide behind the tray dryer until the lights go out at ten."

She stood abruptly, "Our session is done, take the map, and hide it. Don't tell anyone. I'll meet you down there if I can." She ushered James out into the hallway, smiling serenely.

He stumbled confusedly back into the Day Room, dropping into the chair he'd occupied before. The room was fuller than before, and louder. The burly orderly that Marlene had flirted with was gone, replaced with a younger pudgier fellow.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Marlene remarked, dropping into the chair opposite him.

"Start a fight with me." James demanded.

"What, why?" She recoiled, taken aback.

"I need to get kitchen duty."

"Why?" She leaned forward, intrigued. It was widely known that kitchen duty was hell on earth. The patients in the asylum were messy eaters, and even aside from that, those who worked were usually given the most disgusting jobs like unclogging the drains, cleaning the dirty plates, and cleaning up any spills. So, unless there was a fight, it usually worked on an alphabetical rota, meaning Marlene and James had it at the same time, seeing as though her last name was McKinnon and his was Potter. It was on U-Z currently.

"I just do."

"Tell me,"

"No,"

"James,"

"No,"

"What's that in your pocket?"

"Nothing."

"Liar," Marlene reached forward and yanked the map from James' chest pocket. She unfolded it, gasping. "You're breaking out!"

He hushed her, glancing towards the orderlies at the door. The burly one was back, he noted. "Yes I am." James nodded, finally turning back to look at her.

"I'm coming with you." She insisted, handing him the map back, which he took and tucked it securely in his pocket.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am." Marlene huffed. "I know about the map, and you need someone to start a fight with, right? So I help you fight, and you help me out."

James glared at her for a solid minute weighing the decision in his mind. Marlene had killed her father, but he didn't know why. She always helped him. If he took her, this also meant that she would need clothes too. This meant that James would have to ask Lily for some.

"Fine," James sighed. Marlene hugged him gleefully. "Here we go then." And he pushed Marlene. She fell back, rather dramatically, knocking over a table. Stomping forward, she struck his cheek with her hand and tackled him to the floor. They rolled around scratching and shoving at each other, with muttered apologies here and there. It hadn't even been a minute before the burly orderly and the pudgy orderly had yanked the two apart.

"That's kitchen duty for both of you!" Snapped the burly one holding Marlene against his chest.

"He started it," Marlene spat.

"I don't care." Said the same orderly. "I'll see both of you at seven in the kitchens." He dragged Marlene away through the doors, and the other took him shortly after, depositing him unceremoniously on the floor of his room.

James sat up, looking around the barren room in contempt. This was going to be his last night. His last night in four months, one week, two days, and eight hours. He smiled, drifting off into a rough sleep.

The water was running.

"Anna?"

Silence. Water running. Her black hair tangled and wet, floating around her head as her body hung limply over the side of the overflowing tub. The lights cast a harsh light to her pale-blue-lipped face. James could have screamed.

BANG, BANG

His parents!

BANG

What? No, that wasn't a gun.

James jerked up in bed, covered in sweat. The clock on the wall read seven. He jumped as someone knocked on his door again. He pulled the door open, after placing his glasses on again. There stood the burly orderly; he pushed his way into the room, dropping sheets onto the bed. He quickly unfolded them, revealing a flannel shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

"So you're the orderly then?"

"Name's Sirius," The burly orderly nodded, starting back for the door.

"Wait," James grabbed Sirius' wrist, and the man turned. "Marlene McKinnon is coming too. She needs clothes."

Sirius sighed. "I'll talk to Lily." He motioned to the clothes. "Put those on under your patient uniform and head down towards the kitchens."

James nodded, changing quickly once Sirius had left. He adjusted to the uncomfortable feeling of two layers, and started the trek. He walked down the hallway before reaching the staircase leading to the kitchens on his left. The stairs leading down were lit in an eerie yellow light, and James couldn't help checking over his shoulder every few seconds. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong, yet. He was perfectly in his right to be heading down these stairs. Subconsciously, he patted at his back pocket for the map. It was still there.

The kitchen was nearly empty, seeing as though there weren't many U-Z last names in the place. He saw Michael Zabini scrubbing helplessly at what looked suspiciously like a vomit stain on the floor. James gagged, waiting near the door for Marlene. It was another few minutes before she'd made it down. She greeted him with a silent inclination of her head. They were instructed to drying the plates, thank god.

After two hours of working without a break, the head cook started directing people out. James grabbed Marlene's wrist and quietly dragged her behind the tray drying racks in the back-most corner of the kitchen while the head was preoccupied with a specifically impudent patient. The two peered through the slits in the dryer, watching as the cook did a once over of the room, shut the lights off and left. Breathing for the first time since Lily had told him the plan, James began to pull of the asylum clothes.

"Wait," Marlene interrupted him.

"What?"

"We're sneaking out," She said, and James nodded giving her a 'duh' expression. "If we're seen it'll be less conspicuous if we're not in normal clothes."

He mentally swore. "You're right, okay." He pulled the map out of his back pocket. Glancing over it, he could barely tell the route to the delivery doors Lily had mapped out. It looked like they just needed to leave through the double doors on the opposite side of the kitchen and they'd be there. James was about to come out from their hiding spot when the other doors opened up.

"Shit," Marlene yanked him back down. "I thought you said they're locked!"

"They are!" Whoever this was had a key. James peeked around, and immediately recognized the telltale red hair and bulky forms.

"James, Marlene?" Came the harsh whisper.

"Lily," James called, moving from their hiding spot, and into the innermost part of the kitchen, Marlene following behind.

Lily held out a bundle to Marlene. "Clothes," She explained. Marlene took it, smiling gratefully at the doctor.

"C'mon," Sirius moved toward the opposite double doors, and the three followed. He unlocked it, looking around for the truck, nodding and motioning them through when he saw it backing up. The driver jumped out, walking over to them. He greeted Lily and Sirius familiarly, and James absently wondered if this was Lily's boyfriend, since she didn't have a ring on. The idea perturbed him for some reason.

The driver had sandy blonde hair, and a kind face. He was leaner than Sirius, but no less tall. Turning, he reached his left hand out to shake James and Marlene's hands. James felt a ring on his finger, and relaxed, liking the driver more and more. "I'm Remus," He shook Marlene's hand. "And old school friend of Lily's."

"Nice to meet you." Marlene greeted as James asked, at the same time: "You can get us out?"

"You too, and I can." He motioned towards the truck, heading back to the driver's seat.

Lily took either of their hands, squeezing them. "Good luck, all of you."

James continued to grip hers tightly. "Thank you, Lily." Without thinking about it more than that, he leaned in and pecked her on the lips. She stared at him in shock, but not disgust.

"Oh bugger it." Marlene grabbed Sirius by the collar and pulled his face down to her own. She kissed him, much less chaste than James had kissed Lily. After she pulled away from a smirking Sirius she looked around with a shrug. "S'not like I'll be able to do it again."

"I'm coming with you, McKinnon." Sirius laughed, showing the first trace of humor James had ever seen from him. Marlene stared at him, mouth open cheeks bright red. That's when she and James both registered his black T-shirt and jeans. Not the orderly uniform at all.

"Write me." Lily smiled at James, kissing him once more. "And we can call this 'to be continued.'"

Still smiling James, Marlene, and Sirius climbed into the back of the truck and sat down behind banana crates, waiting for the truck to move. As soon as it did, Marlene and James pulled their asylum clothes off, tossing them into a corner. Marlene had a floral print, collared dress on with a cloth belt around her waist. She tugged her blonde hair up into a ponytail as James ran a hand through his. They both tugged their trainers on, and James couldn't help noticing how Lily the outfit was.

Sirius fell asleep about an hour into the drive, and Marlene curled against James. The compartment was cold to keep the produce good, and the grates jumped and shook every so often, putting James on edge.

"Why did you kill your dad, Marlene?" James whispered after some time more. He felt her go stiff.

"Um," She sat up slowly. "My mom, she was having a panic attack. I wasn't home. My dad was. He was drunk and didn't know what she was doing. She told me he yelled at her to stop, which made it worse and..." She took a deep breath. "When I came home he'd been beating her for a good half an hour already. So I bashed his head in with a lamp. In court I was tagged a sociopath because I wasn't remorseful, and shipped off."

"I'm sorry,"

"It was a long time ago."

"But I am." James put a protective arm around her. Protecting her from what, he didn't know. "I was in because they thought I killed my family."

"Did you?"

"No,"

"Do you know who did?"

"No, but I'm going to figure it out."

A/N- Inspired heavily by American Horror Story: Asylum, this is my first chapter AU! Wooo! Per request of an anon on tumblr.

If you guys like it enough, I will continue the fic in chapters. I purposefully left resolutions out. Such things like, who killed James' family? What happens to Lily? Why did she decide to help him? Where's Peter? What happens with Remus? And so on and so forth.

I don't own Harry Potter.