The thing about having schizophrenia, Daniel thought, was that it wasn't just the hallucinations. Those were the obvious symptoms of his illness, but obvious didn't mean only. It was the paranoia, the times when he had to run, had to hide. When he didn't know whether to stop, keep going. Fidget or freeze.
He took a shaky sip of his lukewarm tea. Times when he couldn't let himself sleep or they would come. Times when all the chamomile tea in the world couldn't make his ears stop hearing incomprehensible whispers coming from the corner of the room.
Those times when he was without Natalie, without whatever hallucination his mind had come up with to help him solve his most recent case. He curled his knees up in front of him on the couch. Times like these.
He was sweating. No light came through the window, the sun had set hours ago. He could feel them as they crouched outside. Monsters. Creatures. Government agents. His hand shook as he took a too quick sip of tea.
Blinds and curtains were no obstacle for their eyes, for their ears. Walls didn't stop them.
He wanted to move but he knew if he did it would alert them. Not the creatures, the government. They had set up their equipment in his closet, in the air vents. They're watching, Daniel thought, waiting for me to react.
He couldn't see their equipment but he knew it was there. He could feel it just like he could hear the voices and creatures watching him.
What to do? He knew Lewicki wouldn't be any help; he walked about the house as if nothing was there, was probably asleep in his bed at that very moment. No, Lewicki wouldn't understand.
He had to remember that they were just a part of his mind. They weren't actually there. He shifted on the couch and gulped the last of tea, grimacing at its coldness. He had to think. I have schizophrenia, he repeated to himself over and over. This isn't real. There's no one watching me. But did he really have schizophrenia? It certainly didn't feel like it at the moment. His terror was too real, too visceral.
He made a joke of it to Kate – silly Daniel, can't have a phone or the government will track him. It wasn't a joke to him. None of it was a joke. His heart pounded in his chest. He could feel his eyelids drooping. He blinked heavily. None of it was a joke.
He woke the next morning cramped and clutching an empty teacup. As he stretched out his arms and unfolded his legs, Daniel felt himself relax in the light of the morning. The terrors of the night were behind him.
