I still don't own anything.
I had exactly zero time to write this weekend except in the car, so not much happens this chapter. So you all get a lead up chapter, prepare for angst feels and such tomorrow though. Thank you for the support I've gotten from all the reviews favorites and follows, please keep it up. I would love to hear what you think.
Once in the car he settled, the emotions of what just passed still coursing through his veins. Blessedly a straight jacket had not been involved, this lack of incapacitation allowed his ragged nerves outlet in fidgety hands as the city passed by on the other side of the glass.
Henry stepped out of the car to be greeted by the aedifice of Bellevue. He was determined, after his disgraceful display at the precinct, to face this doom ahead of him. Being walked like a condemned man to the noose into the building did nothing to bring hope to the situation. The solemn trio made their way down the hall and into a small room on the right.
It was similar in size and arrangement to that which had been the scene of his solitary therapy session, and after how that had turned out he was not eager for another. One major difference between the rooms was the decor; this room could hardly be more bare, undecorated grey walls, two chairs, a desk, and a filing cabinet. As of yet he hadn't seen any other color in use, the mind numbing color was broken when a man in a black suit entered and dismissed the men in grey, accepting from them the clipboard.
"Please sit down Dr. Morgan." Henry paused a moment, as though checking that there were indeed no shackles connected to the chair, before taking his seat. The man also sat down, and began exactly where the doctor wished he wouldn't. "Do you believe yourself to be immortal?"
"No." Henry replied as calmly as he could manage. He knew this type of man, he thought what he thought and no amount of reason would convince him otherwise. With such men it was best to respond in a single word. This brevity also allowed him to suppress the panic that threatened to rise and engulf him.
"But you told Detective Martinez of such a belief." The man, whom Henry suppose held a doctorate in psychiatry, spoke in a delicate tone as though to a temperamental child. Henry gave no reply, but looked steadily at the opposite wall. "Very well, let's move on to your record of indecent exposure. Care to explain?"
"Somnambulism." He stated, sticking to the explanation he had given the lieutenant.
"And you sleep..."
"Naked."
Once again the psychiatrist was forced to change the subject. "You are chief medical examiner?"
"Yes."
"Previously a gravedigger?"
"Yes."
"You, Dr. Morgan, have somewhat of a preoccupation with death, do you not?" The patronizing tone had persisted through this interview. Henry was nearly certain that if either the man's tone or the conversation did not soon end he indeed might well go mad.
"Not an unhealthy one."
The man in black jumped on this lengthened reply. "Have any of your family members died?"
"Nearly all."
"The file from your previous visit mentions a lack of friends, and difficulties with trust. How many people do you trust?" Henry's fidgeting, which had minimized, returned at the mention of this unknowing encounter with Adam.
"One."
"Why is that?" Henry once again responded with silence, sitting there staring the man down. He gave up waiting for an answer and merely wrote on his clipboard. When he ha finished he got up, opened the door and left. The man in black having left, the grey men reentered almost immediately, one holding the thickening clipboard. Henry was then brought down the hall a short distance to a small room.
There he was taken charge of by a kind faced black woman of about 60, and the two men in grey left him. She wore scrubs of Easter yellow, adding a cheery splash of color to the dull environment. "So what's your name, Hon?" She asked, ignoring the clipboard that had passed from Jo through men in grey and black to her.
"Doctor Henry Morgan."
"I'm Nurse Ruth."
"Pleased to meet you, ma'am."
"Well Henry, let's get you taken care of." She said, asserting their relationship as an informal one. His chest constricted with a fearful apprehension at the phrase. It must have shown, because she looked at him comfortingly. "Don't worry. There ain't anything to worry about." She placed a hand on his back and led him behind the partitioning wall. One wall was filled with drawers, each with a named label. "I have to ask you to remove your jacket, tie, vest, and belt." She instructed waiting patiently, as he did as directed, with a box to receive the articles of clothing. When he stood, stripped of his layers, in only his shirt and trousers she replaced the box in its place, now bearing his name.
Ruth had seen hundreds of people enter her domain, the doctors may know the minds but she knew the people those minds were attached to. This man, standing humbled like she'd just taken away the only security he had, was different from the other entrants. Sure he was nervous, frightened even, but seemed more sane than most in her opinion. Of course the doctors would say that the madness often lay beneath.
Next they passed through the door leading further into the belly of the beast, his anxiety beginning to rise unwanted. As she escorted the increasingly downcast man down the door lined hall he eyed each door warily, wondering which held a padded room behind it.
"Which is the padded room?" He asked, after working up the courage to do so.
She let out a short warm and hearty laugh. "You've heard too many horror stories." She said, responding to the hint of fear that had escaped into his voice. "We don't use those anymore, well except when absolutely necessary for safety." This was not particularly reassuring but it would have to do. They came to a closet, at which she paused and removed a pair of white cotton pajamas. Then they proceeded down the hall to a room, opening the door again she ushered him in. "This is your room, number 31. There's your bed, and here are pajamas for you." He accepted the folded bundle. "I'll let you be to settle in, you're probably tired from the day."
Ruth left the room and closed the door behind her. Alone now Henry realized just how tired he was, that afternoon seemed to belong to another world not a few hours before. He changed quickly and lay down on the bed. Closing his eyes he tried to reject the reality of his circumstances as sleep fell over him.
