Welcome Home (Sanitarium)
Summary: Song-fic: song- Welcome Home (Sanitarium) by Metallica. Prequel to Escape the Asylum. It's a dark stormy night in Carson City and our favorite psychos have something on their mind.
Welcome to where time stands still,
No one leaves and no one will
Lightning cracked across the sky as rain pelted the dusty streets of Carson City. The entire city was asleep in the darkened confines of their houses, tucked tightly into their cozy beds with their teddies or loved ones.
Except one.
Scott Levy, or Raven as he was affectionately known, leaned against the wall of his padded cell in the Arch Angel mental Asylum, cowering against the wall with his head on his knees, shaking it back and forth as he cried against the soft cotton of his pants. He hated being in the cell alone, knowing his beloved Kane was down the hall, only a few cells away from him. Being alone with his lover wasn't an option, however, because Doctor Stevie, head of the doctors in the asylum, was extremely homophobic and hated the fact that one of his patients was gay. It just wasn't allowed.
Time seemed to come to a stand-still inside the asylum; it never seemed to change from day to night. The only thing that changed, really, were the doctors as they changed shifts. Its inhabitants didn't seem to notice though as each and every one of them was basically in a dream stasis due to their illnesses, violently thrashing about their cells, or heavily sedated.
And no one ever left.
Moon is full; never seems to change
Just labeled mentally deranged.
Scott-Scott, Raven, Scott's inner voice and best friend, said quietly. Scott looked up and saw the somewhat distorted and transparent image of Raven appear before him, the same blond curls of Scott's bobbing in front of his face. He was an exact copy of Scott; except his loose curls were tied back in a boofy pony-tail.
"He labeled me 'Mentally Deranged'," Scott sobbed, curling tighter into a ball. Raven crouched down and rested a hand on his 'friend's' shoulder, rubbing at the soft mesh of his shirt. Scott curled into his touch as he looked at the door, remembering how Stevie had drilled Mentally Deranged into his skull for the past sixteen years of his life.
Raven squeezed lightly on Scott's shoulder before disappearing into a fine black mist. Scott curled into a tight ball and fell asleep against the padded wall of his cell, his brain formulation horrible nightmares, just like they always did.
Dream the same thing every night;
I see our freedom in my sight.
Meanwhile, two doors down and across the hall, Glenn Jacobs, commonly known (and self-referred to) as Kane, thrashed around violently in his sleep. He always had violent dreams; they were always provoked by the anger and aggression he'd built up against the world over the years. Some people thought he was racist but he denied the claim before brutally murdering whoever said it. He wasn't racist; he hated everyone equally and they hated him. And tonight he hated every single white-coat clad doctor with a passion unmatched by anything in the world. God, how he loathed them. They would pay for locking him up. They would pay with their lives as soon as he and his companions escaped; there was no doubt about that.
No locked doors, no windows barred,
No things to make my brain seem scarred.
Kane jerked awake with a jolt and glared at the roof. The padded ceiling had haunted his dreams every single night he'd been in the asylum. Doctor Stevie, the man who'd labeled him insane to begin with, had made sure Kane zero contact with the outside world; he had no windows in his room and a single padded door so he could be injected with his 'medicine' every day by Stevie.
Kane's gaze shifted from the roof and to the door as the mentally obscured doctor entered the room for his nightly check-up. The big, bald man seethed and glared.
Sleep my friend and you will see;
the dream is my reality
"How are we feeling tonight?" Stevie asked casually, flipping open his clipboard. Kane rose to his feet and Stevie instantly shrank down in size. The six-foot-two man was tiny compared to the seven-foot, three-hundred-pound behemoth before him.
A sly smirk came to Kane's face and, before Stevie has time to react, Kane sank his thumb into his neck, digging in to the sensitive flesh above his Adam's apple. Stevie gagged at first but soon he crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Kane stood and cracked the tense muscles in his neck before exiting the room.
Kane was jerked back to reality by Stevie tapping him on the shoulder. He stood and turned to face Stevie, his face blank of expression as he crossed his massive arms over his chest. Stevie stopped short and bit his lip, Kane smirked; everyone was scared of him, especially Stevie.
Can't keep me locked up in this cage,
Can't you see it's why my brain says rage?
As Stevie began his usual dialogue, Kane blanked out. He hated hearing the insignificant bug prattle on about his family life so each time he focused on something, anything, else. Usually the thing he most thought of was a tire between the smaller young man down the hall who had captured his heart eighteen years before hand and the thoughts of getting his revenge against his brother, his main reason for being inside the rat infested asylum.
A sharp object being injected into the pale flesh of his arm returned his attention to the pathetic excuse for a doctor in the room with him. Stevie looked confident as he stuck the needle in Kane's arm and that was all it took for Kane's rage black-outs to be sent into overdrive.
Before Stevie could even react, Kane ripped the still full needle from his arm and jammed it into Stevie's neck, spilling the contents into the doctor's bloodstream. The brunette yelped and held his neck before screaming as Kane broke his wrist with only the pressure from his thumb.
Sanitarium… leave me be
Sanitarium… just leave me alone.
"GET OUT!" Kane yelled as Stevie scooted from the room, holding his broken wrist against his chest. Two doctors kept Kane at bay so the big man didn't escape. The Vallium Kane had put in Stevie had made him completely drowsy and he had to be forcibly removed from the room. When the door shut behind him, Kane dropped to his knees and roared at the top of his lungs.
Eleven stories up, in the Psychiatric Isolation Ward, a man sat in his cell, wearing a brown leather mask over his face, his long brown curls hanging limp over his shoulders. Mick 'Mankind/Cactus Jack/Dude Love' Foley has been in the Arch Angel Mental Asylum for almost thirty years, spiteful and insane with rage. He'd witnessed quite a few of Kane's murders over the years and had killed countless others too, but his anxiety and paranoia had driven the slightly older man insane.
Build my fear of what's out there,
Can I breathe the open air?
Mick had been locked up by his uncle, Paul Bearer, when he was fifteen and he hadn't stopped seething; he hated the white padded cell he was forced to reside in. It reminded him of the isolation he was forced into. Not to mention his paranoia made him all the more weary of his surroundings outside the walls. He constantly fought his mixed emotions that only left him scarred and confused.
Whisper things into my brain,
assuring me that I'm insane
Stevie, having visited the infirmary, to have all the Vallium removed from his system and his arm bandaged up, came into the room and rested a hand on Mick's shoulder.
"Mick?"
Mick looked up at Stevie and then looked back at the floor. He disliked the brunette doctor but not as much as Kane. The only reason Stevie irked Mick was because every session they had, Stevie constantly reminded him of his anxiety and paranoia and of his mood swings that changed his way of thinking every so often.
"Go away," Mick croaked and Stevie was about to say no when his pager vibrated against his thigh. He pulled the small black box from his pocket and groaned.
'Chris Parks gone loco. Need back up,' it read. "Damnit!"
Mick turned long enough to see Stevie leave, his hair swinging back and forth, his coat being swung onto his arms and the door shut behind him.
They think our heads are in their hands,
But violent use brings violent plans.
Chris thrashed back and forth violently as the doctors tried to subdue him. He'd always been like this; Abyss was the voice in his head, his control centre. Chris couldn't do anything without Abyss' permission and if Chris did it anyway, Abyss went loco. It was the only reason Chris was in the asylum to being with. Abyss had forced his hand in torching his girlfriend and her friend alive inside their clothing store. Chris and been thrown in the asylum soon after.
Keep him tied it makes him well;
He's getting better, can't you tell?
"All right," Stevie said as he stepped into the room, rolling up the sleeves of his white doctor's coat. "I'm here now."
Chris looked over at him from behind his brown and red leather mask and lunged. The ropes tied around his wrists to keep him at bay pulled and began to fray and wear as he yanked on them, trying to get to the –sometimes- needle happy doctor. Stevie simply shrugged it off before stepping beside Chris and cleaning his neck; Chris growled and eyed the bandage on Stevie's hand.
Ooh, Abyss mused, grinning like the Cheshire cat, I found a weak spot.
Chris smirked with sadistic glee; one of the only things he and Abyss ever agreed on was their utter dislike of Stevie.
Chris kicked out at Stevie's hand and nailed it right on the wrist just as a strong dose of Vallium was injected into his body. Stevie yelled and clutched his wrist as Chris fell back against the wall.
"Sunova bitch!" Stevie cursed, glaring over at Chris. Chris blinked back.
"We're all better now, Doctor Stevie," he said calmly. Stevie scowled.
"We still have to keep you here, Chris, for your own safety." And Stevie left with the other doctors.
You're getting better, Chrissy, Abyss said as nicely as he could; he wasn't known for his niceness. He just can't tell.
No more can they keep us in,
Listen damnit, we will win.
In the room to the left of Chris was Daffney, his girlfriend. She wasn't as violent as Chris or Kane or any of their comrades, but she sure was creative. Her spree of murders had more creative genius then Picasso. Fires and explosions were her forte but she wasn't the only one. Raven, her best friend, liked them too.
Unbeknownst to Stevie, The Scream Queen had heard everything from her room beside Chris. And she'd beamed at Stevie's pain, even though she acted like she loved him. That was only to suck him in, and it was working.
As Stevie entered the room to check on his last patient for the night, Daffney giggled at the look on the mad doctor's face. He was completely livid! His face was a dark crimson and large chunks of his hair had been pulled free of his pony-tail.
"I'm glad to see my appearance is funny, Daffney," he said, popping an eyebrow at her. She smiled and stared at him from her seat on the floor. He smiled back and wandered over to sit beside her. She grinned and happily gave her bare arm to him for her medicine. He injected her arm with her usual sleeping drought and pat her head.
"Sweet dreams, Daffney," he said quietly as she fell back against the floor. Her eyes were still open but she had grown very tired.
"There's no use fighting it," she said dreamily, looking at him through her half closed eyes. He turned from the door-way and looked at her.
"Fighting what?"
Daffney merely fell asleep, leaving the doctor more than a little confused.
They see it right, they see it well;
they think this saves us from our hell.
As Daffney slept, she dreamt of her escape from the dreaded asylum and living with her friends in the outside world. Stevie and the other doctors were completely wrong about them all; putting them in separate cells was a mistake. It wasn't going to keep them safe and it certainly wasn't going to save them from themselves and their personal hells that they lived in. It was only making it worse.
Sanitarium… leave me be
Sanitarium… just leave me alone
Sanitarium… just leave me alone
The next day was a wet and hazy day but the storm clouds from the night before had passed by and the bright Nevada sun shone down onto the city. The world was just waking to a beautiful sunny day.
Mick sat in his cell, looking down at the courtyard with his forehead pressed against the bars on his window, spying on his 'friends' huddled in the corner. They were plotting something, which came as no surprise to him; they always were.
Fear of living on, Natives getting restless now
Daffney, from her place on Chris' knees, looked at Kane.
"We're outta here," she said matter-of-factly, Kane considered her for a second but it was Raven who answered.
"When?"
"Tonight," Kane said, clamping his hand in Raven's curly locks. Raven yelped and looked at him. Kane smirked. "Would you like that baby?"
Raven bobbed his head, yes, and practically melted as Kane's lips crashed onto his, devouring his mouth in a passionate kiss that pretty much made every nerve in the smaller man's body go haywire.
Mutiny in the air, got some death to do.
Chris looked over as Doctor Stevie eyed them from the stairway leading back inside.
"Who gets to kill him?" he asked and Daffney instantly volunteered.
Kane pulled away from kissing Raven and looked over.
"I do. Stevie is the biggest thorn in my side aside from my brother. You and the midget Mimi can have Lauren and Brooks," he said, looking at Abyss and Daffney. They grinned evilly and Kane turned his attention back to Raven. "You can torture the fat fuck." Raven grinned at the idea of killing Paul Bearer. Sure, he was Kane's father, but nobody cared about him, least of all Kane.
Mirror stares back hard
Scott looked over behind Daffney's giggling form to see raven shimmer into view, leaning against the barbed wire fence. He was staring daggers at Scott and the smaller man shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"What's wrong?" Kane asked quietly, lacing his fingers with Scott's. The small blond touched his temple.
"Raven wants to kill Stevie." He looked at Kane and the older man shook his head, smirking.
Kill is such a friendly word
"I'm not going to kill Stevie, babe. I'm going to brutally torture the fucker until he's on his hands and knees begging for me to kill him. Then I'm going to tear him apart, limb by limb and enjoy every-fucking-minute of it. Does that sound good to him?"
Scott looked over at Raven who smirked, nodded his head and disappeared, returning to Scott's head. Scott looked at Kane and nodded.
"Good." And the make-out session resumed.
Seems the only way, for reaching out again
Back up in his room, Mick had deciphered every word uttered between the quartette. Since he'd been in the asylum for so long, his lip reading skills were pretty much perfect. He sighed loudly and curled up on the floor.
They really had no choice. It was the only way to live…
To Escape the Asylum.