Toris was wide eyed, his breathing ragged in his chest, rasping at his throat, raw from screaming, like sand paper. His uniform was tattered and stained red. His face was a painful mess of purple, blue, and red. A shadow crossed him and he squeezed his eyes shut, afraid of even looking at the towering, intimidating form of Ivan that loomed over him.
"Please…" he whimpered, "Please, I'm sorry sir… It was an accident…" Toris was chained against the wall, arms forcibly crossed over his chest and held that way. His legs were bound by shackles. His delicate, bruised wrists bled from the restraints' awful chafing. "Please, no… no more…"
Ivan smiled widely, though there was no warmth in it. His face was overshadowed by a dark joy. His deep purple eyes gleamed like ice. "But you did wrong… You spilled those pills all over the floor. That is a lot of medication wasted. A lot of money wasted. You know I don't like it when money is wasted." Ivan's voice was thick with a menacing malignity, a chill glee in the pain he planned to inflict. "You must be punished."
Toris could have sobbed in desperation, but that would only have made the cruel man happier. It would give him the satisfaction of knowing that what he was doing really got to Toris, truly frightened him to his core. So he restrained himself, his head hung low, brown bangs hiding the way his eyes began to tear up.
"Oh, no need to sulk," Ivan said far too happily. "It won't be so bad. I'm sure you'll be able to walk again in a few months."
Toris shivered. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ivan pull something out of his long lab coat. Ivan tapped it on the ground once as though testing it out, or maybe wishing to compare the sound of the metal on the concrete floor with that of the iron pipe colliding with his head.
"I hope you're ready," Ivan said cheerfully.
Toris felt his face scrunch up as he tried unsuccessfully to prevent tears from falling, unable to help whining pathetically. He could hear the whooshing of the pipe as it swung through the air at his head and—
With a sudden start, he shot up, head pounding, eyes wide and frantic. Where was he? Why couldn't he move his arms? When his mind finally registered the sight of the padded room he was situated in, he exhaled slowly, calming himself down as it all came back to him.
It had been about a week ago when he'd finally cracked. Working under Dr. Ivan Braginski, infamously nicknamed 'Dr. Kolkol', was not for the faint of heart. Even the bravest souls trembled at the broad, imposing man's presence. Toris was near constantly around him, and, like a roof finally giving way under too much snow, Toris had had a breakdown and was reduced to an incoherent sobbing mess. That had earned him one 'vacation' in the very ward he usually worked in- the mental ward- until he could calm his nerves and recuperate.
The first night had shown him terrifying nightmares and devastating night terrors that left him covered in scratches and bruises form his own frenzied hands, and so every night h e was put in a straitjacket and every morning he was released when Dr. Hero (the hospital's nickname for Alfred F. Jones, the specialist on medication and head of the pharmaceutical department) arrived to pick him up for what he called "Maple Therapy".
What that meant, basically, was a half-hour alone with Dr. Hero's soft-spoken nurse, Matthew, dubbed 'Nurse Who?' by all. Well, all who noticed him that is. He was quiet, the kind to blend into the background in almost any situation, but being around him had a sort of calming effect on Toris, and the boy made the most delicious maple-syrup-flavored pancakes. "Maple in the batter, maple on top," Matt had said when asked about his recipe. He had flushed a little, cute pink dusting his cheeks, with pride at Toris' praise of his cooking, and he smiled a smile just as sweet as the breakfast treats, a smile that soothed Toris' nerves like a box full of big-eyed, fluffy kittens.
Toris smiled at the memory, forcing his tight muscles to relax, wincing at the sore stiffness that had settled in them from the stress of the night and the discomfort of sleeping in a straitjacket.
Toris only realized he had woken earlier than usual when time dragged by with no bright-eyed, excitable American coming in to free him from his restraints. Pursing his lips, he tried to count time to keep himself busy, but lost his place somewhere in the three-hundreds and had to start over.
Just as he reached two-hundred-forty-seven, the door opened and in burst the familiar face with sandy blonde hair and that one lock that always seemed to stick up defiantly away from the others.
"G'mornin Tori," Alfred greeted cheerily, "Ready for Maple Therapy?" The young doctor knelt beside Toris and began to undo the belts of the straitjacket, slender fingers working deftly to loosen the garment. It slipped off Toris' shoulders and the brunette shrugged out of it the rest of the way on his own, circling his shoulders to release the tension in them. God, they really did hurt. He winced at the ache every slight movement caused. Sleeping like that really did awful things to his muscles.
"Good morning Dr. Jones," Toris said pleasantly, glad to be free and rather looking forward to what was to come. "Yes, I'm ready. How's Matthew doing today?"
"Who? Oh, right, Matty. Yeah, he's doing great. Turns out he makes an awe3some therapist, you know? Who'd have thunk."
Well, Toris thought, I would have. He was the one on the receiving end of the sweet-as-sugar boy's kind words and delicious maple-swamped flat delicious disks of cooked batter. It did wonders for him. Toris stood as Alfred did, and they left the cushioned room together.
It was just a short walk from the padded rooms to the small lounge that Matthew used for the therapy, past other patients' rooms from which quiet moans and muffled sounds arose. The nurse in Toris made him want to help those poor people, but he had to remind himself he was on a mandatory leave. Once Dr. Beilschmidt (hospital director) realized how bad Toris really had it, he wouldn't let him work for fear of "upsetting Dr. Kolkol." Frankly, Toris didn't think anything could upset the man. In fact, he was sure the sadistic doctor would enjoy seeing him squirm. But who was he to say anything about that? He had only worked under Kolkol for as long as he could remember. What did he know about what the Russian was like?
"Come now Matvey, don't be that way. Don't make me use my authority as a doctor to force you to say yes." Toris froze at the voice, the familiar thick Russian accent. He broke out in a cold sweat. What was Dr. Kolkol doing here? Toris stood just at the door, hand on the knob, door ajar., peering nervously, unable to help himself, through the barely open doorway.
Ivan had Matthew backed up into one corner, one of the Russian's big hands on the nurse's shoulder in a way that could have been friendly in any other situation, with anyone other than Dr. Kolkol.
Against Ivan's bulk, Matthew seemed impossibly small. From behind his glasses, Matt's eyes shimmered, wet with tears pushing to fall. "P-please, I don't-" Matthew began.
Ivan gave Matthews shoulder a squeeze, and the smaller man yelped, pressing his lips together to halt the sound as soon as possible. "O-okay, I… I will. M-meet me back here at nine tonight. We… we can do it then."
Alfred, blissfully unaware of the tension in the atmosphere that was thick enough that it seemed tangible, poked Toris on the shoulder, making him flinch. "What'cha waitin' for- go on in!" he said loudly, pushed Toris aside, and flung the door open. "Hey, Mattayyy- oh, hi Kolkol." Alfred said when he noticed the Russian in the room.
"Ah, good morning Dr. Hero. I was simply speaking with little Matvey about important matters, but we are finished now. I leave him to you." Dr. Kolkol offered Alfred a nod, Toris a too-wide smile, and pushed past the both of them and out the door.
Toris only realized he was trembling when Alfred asked, "Hey Tori, you okay?"
Startled from whatever reverie had taken hold of him, Toris nodded, giving Alfred a wobbly smile, before entering the room.
"I leave him to you Matty," Alfred said with a grin and a wink whose meaning Toris neither could nor wanted to discern, and pulled shut the door, leaving Toris and Matthew alone.