Jamie skulked around the halls of the male ward, head buzzing. He kept hearing a static-like noise reverberating in his skull. It was slightly agitating so far.

He was trying to avoid the older man seeing him like this but as it were, he was in Trager's ward. "'Mornin' darlin'." Jamie's stomach did flips at the man's voice. True to his apparent touchy feely disposition, he caught up and wrapped an arm around Jamie's shoulders, feeling the stubble on his head. "Why do you do that?"

Trager didn't stop, humming in question. "That." He pointed to the action going on on his head and the older man made an 'ooh' before smirking playfully. "It feels cool." He said simply before dragging Jamie off by the arm. The man's grip was cold and strong, applying a bit too much pressure that Jamie chalked down to not realising he was doing it.

They ended up in a bathroom. Jamie's face flushed and he looked everywhere but the other's face, crossing his legs the slightest bit. "Oh, don't be like that. It happens to the best of us. Your clothes, dar~lin'." He held out his hand and something in Jamie's head clicked. Wait.

"You..don't care." He dropped his fake voice, surprising himself with how deep it actually was. Trager continued to give him an expectant look, however, and he turned, stripping himself down reluctantly. Covering his junk, he handed his clothes over before facing a wall, swearing he saw Trager admire his unclothed body-though that could have been leftover wet dream haze.

He heard water running and Trager whistling. Jamie blinked, realising this guy was always humming or whistling. Happy guy, maybe?

Abruptly, someone started bashing down the door and Trager huffed, grabbing his shears from the sink. "Your clothes are done. Wait here." He growled, going after whoever was stupid enough to think they could stand a chance against him, slamming the door behind him.

A foreboding feeling settled over the room and Jamie hurried to change into his soaking clothes, hiding in a locker. Call him daft, but he just felt like something was about to happen. Nothing did for a good while, not a soul coming into the room for a good 10 minutes. Jamie started to worry for his protector, wringing out his clothes repetitively.

The door flew open and in entered a few inmates, horribly disfigured in their own ways. "Check the lockers. Our little 'flower' must be in here somewhere." Shit. Jamie cursed in his head, realising the patients were formerly Trager's and were out to get him. Probably out of spite for not saving them.

The static had gotten worse over time and was blaring in Jamie's head, making it hard to think. They were checking each locker in order. It was only a matter of time before they reached Jamie's .

His locker door opened. "Hello, flower." He was knocked into unconsciousness.

"Rise and shine, Jamie." Jamie opened his eyes groggily, realising in surprise that no, he wasn't bound in any way. His head felt like a truck had hit it, and he held it as he took in his surroundings. He could barely see it was so dark. "You can smell it, can't you?"

All Jamie could smell was decay as he felt around, his hand hitting something warm. Recoiling instantly, a lamp was switched on, hurting his eyes. "I bet you're hungry, Jamie." The man speaking was revealed to be Kyle, his bared teeth shining in the dim light. There was a fresh, headless corpse at Jamie's knees. Jamie began to piece it together and looked horrified. "I'm not a cannibal!"

Kyle chuckled, tapping his fingers on his knee. "You have the static, don't you? Of course you are. See, there's different degrees of the insanity you see here. But the two very basics are cannibal or vegetarian." Jamie was disgraced to find his stomach indeed wanting nothing more than meat-raw meat to be exact. "Oh, don't look at me as if I'm the cause of this."

His brain practically screamed at him to eat it, the static joining in to make utterly discorded music. "Where's doctor Trager?" He put on his most demanding tone, half expecting him to pop out of nowhere with a 'right here, darlin''. Kyle's posture went rigid and he stood, kicking the corpse forward with a bare foot. "Eat!" He shouted, losing his temper at the mention of his former tormentor.

Jamie, scared and helpless, did the only thing he could in that situation-he ate. He dug his remaining teeth into the stomach of the corpse, ripping a chunk of flesh from it and swallowing hard. His cravings screamed in delight and the static even seemed to ease off a bit but he felt disgusted with himself. Practically sobbing, he continued to eat until he was full, much to the satisfaction of Kyle.

Left with a bloody mouth and a full stomach, Jamie realised how much anxiety being away from the mad doctor was causing him. He made the static disappear. He kept him protected. He needed him. He wasn't sure of where this separation anxiety had come from. "Kyle..can I leave now?" He whined pathetically, feeling sick now from what he had just consumed and the amount of it.

Kyle looked up at him and scowled. "You want to be with that shithead, be my guest. Don't expect any more help from me." He got up and left the room, leaving a sick Jamie to navigate his way around the unfamiliar place. No, this was familiar. From when he had escaped that doll guy. He almost wanted to call Kyle back to protect his sorry ass.

Sticking to the shadows seemed like the best option, until he found Trager or a way out. Clinging to his sore head, he decided he had to get his priorities straight. Finding a way out came instead of finding Trager. He was wandering for a long time, seeing not a soul thankfully, the cramps easing up with time until he came across the room again. Learning from his mistakes, he kept going quickly only to be caught by the hand. He swore.

"Beautiful man. Oh, whatever happened to your wonderful hair?" He seemed genuinely upset, stroking Jamie's hand gently. Jamie squeezed his eyes shut and hoped for better days. "I apologise for snapping earlier. It was vulgar of me and I promise never to repeat such an uncouth action. But you came back-to give me a second chance, yes? Oh, how wonderful!" He probably would have clapped if his hands weren't keeping Jamie in place.

If Jamie had learned anything from Trager, it was to be polite yet dreadfully honest in rough situations. "I'm not your doll, buddy." He nearly planted his face into his hand at how strange the term sounded coming from his lips but it was exciting nonetheless. Fred looked a little let down at that before perking up again. "Oh, but you will be. We'll be the best of friends, you and I. Now come, no time to dawdle."

Jamie was pulled into the last room on the planet he would ever want to enter, senses going into overdrive as he nearly puked. He was sat in the traditional wheelchair and strapped in and he had to wonder if everyone in this place just had one big meeting and decided the best device to put hostages in was a wheelchair. This whole deal reminded him a bit about his first run in with Trager. Jamie clenched his teeth. Was he dead?

As if a great artist, Fred studied his 'paintbrush', actually a small, sharp looking kitchen knife, before stepping forward with a polite skip in his step. "I'll walk you through this process, darling." Jamie narrowed his eyes at the similarities of the pet name, not appreciating them. "First, I must undress you." He sliced Jamie's clothes down the middle and Jamie huffed. These were just cleaned, bastard. Of course he was angry about the fact that Trager went to effort to clean them and not the fact he was about to die painfully.

He'd rather think about Trager while he died, anyway. He was more a buddy than anything, puns not intended. He let his mind run with flashbacks about his life, family, the older man who he very much wished would be here to save his ass right now, while Fred finished cutting through the tough fabric of his jeans.

He was soon completely naked, exposed to the room of dolls. A doll blinked, he swore it. "Next we skin the victim to make way for the new flesh." Jamie let loose a tirade of oh gods and fucks in his head as the man reached for a pallet knife and positioned it on Jamie's cheek. "So nervous looking. Hush, it'll be over in a jiffy." And he slammed the pallet knife down, lodging it under the skin of Jamie's cheek. Jamie, who was quite obviously screaming in excruciating pain, struggled for his life as the skin of his cheek was peeled away from his face and cut off.

With half his cheek in bloody shambles, Jamie barely registered a pair of bone shears suddenly stabbed through Fred's stomach, intestines poking out with it. He passed out before he could see any more.

White. Grainy white was all he could see. Correction, he had only opened one eye. He touched his face to feel what was on it, and instantly recoiled in pain. "Ah ah, darlin'. No touching allowed." That beautiful, wonderful voice filled his head and he leapt up to bury his face in a surprised Trager's neck, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Trager awkwardly pat his back. "It's unusual that anyone's ever happy to see me." He mused.

Jamie broke down, tears coating the man's neck as he hiccupped and sobbed, the fear and pain he had felt all working into one big ball. "S-sorry." He mumbled, pulling back before the older man tugged him back to his previous position. "It's alright to be scared."

The two stayed like that for a while, enjoying eachothers closeness until Jamie pulled back and looked Trager in the eye truthfully. "Thank you. You saved my-" His words were cut off by a mouth over his own, Trager having pulled his mask off while Jamie was speaking. Jamie was having extremely mixed feelings about this, unsure of what he even felt for the other man. Trager pulled back before he could decide. "'Thank you's are such a bore. I've been waiting a while for that anyway."

He turned to slip his mask back on like nothing even happened, leaving the room. To say Jamie was confused would be an understatement. It didn't look like Trager was coming back any time soon so was he..unimpressed? It wouldn't have been the most comfortable of kisses, half his face bandaged and all.

His mind raced with endless possibilities, lying down while he thought. Sleeping sounded good at that moment-an end to the pain he felt, frankly, everywhere. So he slept.