Ruben rifled through his research files when he heard a banging echoing off the walls from the foyer.
He sighed, brows furrowed, he dropped what was in his hands and left the work station that was behind the portrait in the music room. Closing the door and locking it with a combination, he headed off to see who was making all that noise. He opened the door to the foyer, and quietly closed the door behind him. The noise came from an inferior man who knows better than to bother him while he's working.
Marcelo Jimenez, and his brother, Valerio. There was someone else with them.
Did Marcelo bring him another patient from beacon to experiment on? The way they handled the others was different to the way the young man was cared for.
Unkempt white hair, standing at least five foot six or maybe eight. He was hunched over, his eyes moving to one area to the next. Trying to figure where he was in this unfamiliar environment.
He cleared his throat, bringing his hands in front of him. "What are you doing here, Marcelo?" Ruben demanded.
Marcelo gave a nod to his brother and walked over to him, "Ruvik. I'm here to ask a favor."
Ruben raised his brow at the nickname and what the doctor came to bare. He was a bit skeptical, but curious. "What is this favor?" he inquired, glancing to Valerio trying to console the boy who was having some sort of fit. Ruben figured the favor was about him, if it wasn't, why bring him unless he's used as another experiment.
"This is Leslie Withers," Marcelo introduced, his brother gripped Leslie's arm and dragged him over to them.
"No...No...let go..." Leslie said, trying to wrench his arm from Valerio's grip.
"I was hoping he could stay here for awhile, not as an experiment," he said quickly. Ruben looked at Marcelo as if the man were crazy, he didn't doubt he was. "I consulted the staff at Beacon Mental Hospital that sometimes the mentally ill—if placed in different environments—will learn to heal. He already lived at the Hospice before he became my own personal patient, but lately he's been...erratic. I figured maybe he can stay here, of course I'll be watching over him and I'll keep him away from any vital research. Just for three weeks, maybe less."
Ruben didn't know if he wanted to take the doctor serious. Why let someone like this boy anywhere inside his home? There were too many traps, a few rooms were off limits, and Ruben himself didn't go near a few of them. The boy continued struggling in Valerio's grip, his livid face and heavy bags were evident enough that he didn't get much treatment from Beacon. Nor did he get any from Marcelo and Valerio, but what did that matter?
"No." Ruben turned and headed for the library that was on the top left wing of the estate. Hoping to locate more of his misplaced papers.
Marcelo sighed. "Wait here. I'll put some sense into him," he murmured to his brother, then hurried after Ruben.
Ruben couldn't believe Marcelo would ask such an outrageous request. He flicked the light on and walked to his father's desk that sat in the center of the library. It was stacked with books and papers that Ruben didn't bother touching until now. He sifted through several papers when he heard the doctor walk in.
"Ruvik, please, it's only for a few weeks," Marcelo pleaded. The man did this a lot, usually because Ruben disliked his ideas or any other further analysis and needs constant persuading to include it. This is no different.
"Why bring him here? Take him somewhere else," Ruben said, pushing several books off the desk and rifled through more papers, but none had the brain chemistry notes he wrote a few weeks ago. He didn't throw them out, unless he accidentally burned them along with some books. He wasn't careless, he never left anything unchecked.
"I can't...He'll only stay for three weeks, that's it. Then you'll never see him again," Marcelo said. Ruben looked at the man to see the desperation on his face, it oozed through every word and it was pathetic to witness.
With an exasperated sigh, he said, "Fine. Three weeks and that's it. Keep him away from the top floor." Don't need curious eyes on my research.
"Thank you, Ruvik," Marcelo said as he left the room.
Ruben didn't want to think of the mistake he just made. He was more concerned with the papers he lost. Without even a glance at the happy trio, or duo, since the Leslie patient doesn't look thrilled in the least, he headed back inside the secret room behind the portrait and thought of deactivating the traps upstairs, but decided against it. Usually strangers tried to get into the estate since his 'disappearance' and the murder of his parents, once they realized there was someone living inside, the ones brave enough to enter never left. The screams lasted for days in their individual cells, some were left to starve, others were used to test more of his experiments and various research.
Maybe three weeks will pass and when it did, he wouldn't take another favor from Jimenez, unless he knew beforehand. Of course the man never did tell him what he was doing. This was no exception.
Notes: Hello to any new readers and to old readers of this fic. I am rewriting this. (1.2.18) / You can find it also on AO3. I'm going to edit and update this story because I reread it and liked the concept. :)