HEAAAT OF THE MOMENT!
You know what that means? Tuesday! (Don't worry, we don't kill Dean in this chapter.) And so, please enjoy the next installment! We'd like to thank all of you who've been reviewing, especially the guest reviewers as we can't personally thank those through a private message. Thanks for all your support!
Warnings for this chapter: Some bad language and the hospital-from-hell, per usual.
Disclaimer: We do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
"Welcome to Paradise" - Green Day
Jensen looked up as a man - whose name he was pretty sure started with an 'h' - entered the small, brightly lit intake room. "Um, Dr... Dr. Haindahl?" The name was a shot in the dark, but it sounded right.
The man tilted his head to the side, grinning. "Dr. Heyerdahl, actually." Well, Jensen had been close. "You must be our new patient… Jensen Ackles, is it?" Dr. Heyerdahl's voice was slow, raspy, and a little on the nasally side, and there was a gleam in the man's icy blue eyes that just didn't seem right.
Jensen nodded a little anyway, smiling slightly. New place, new start, he might as well make a good first impression. "Yeah. They just sent me over from Deerwater."
Dr. Heyerdahl hummed slightly. "How wonderful. I've read your file. You seem like an… interesting case."
Jensen shifted in his chair, more embarrassed than he cared to admit, and forced a cheeky grin. "Yeah, well. They don't exactly send you guys the boring ones, do they?"
Dr. Heyerdahl's grin only widened. "Of course not, Mr. Ackles. Shall I show you your new room?" He didn't wait for an answer, going through the door he had come in and turning right.
Jensen used his crutches to hoist himself up awkwardly, hobbling after the doctor in a vain attempt to catch up. "So you're my new psychiatrist, right? They threw a bunch of names at me doing intake; hard to keep 'em straight."
Dr. Heyerdahl nodded as he quickly turned another corner - was the dude trying to make him lose his balance on these things?"You and I will be sure to have a lot of… fun together."
Jensen hesitated for a moment at the strange tone in the man's voice before chuckling, slightly breathless from the exertion of trying to keep up. "Yeah, what's more fun than antipsychotics?"
"Well, I heard you got along fine with those at your last institution… So I would say… yes." The doctor's voice was clipped but amused, and Jensen frowned.
Well, that wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear. "Sorry, sir, but what do you mean, 'yes?'"
Dr. Heyerdahl shrugged dismissively. "Oh, I just meant that since you had such interesting time there, it would be the same here. No worries."
Jensen chuckled awkwardly. "Well, actually going for something a bit different here. Like, I dunno, just Jensen. No 'Dean.'"
Dr. Heyerdahl pace seemed to quicken slightly. "Of course, Mr. Ackles. Do try and keep up."
Stumbling along behind on his crutches Jensen followed him, trying to keep up, keep his balance, and look around the hall at the same time. "Where are all the patients right now?"
"They're… around." Jensen would have sworn the older man was smirking, but he couldn't keep up enough to see his face. "We usually keep them in their rooms."
What? What kind of wacko hospital was this? Jensen swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice from wavering. "O-oh. Okay. I... Uh, I see."
Dr. Heyerdahl's voice was smooth and practiced. "For their own good, of course, Mr. Ackles. They get together at meals and are able to socialize there."
"Of course…" Jensen's voice was quiet. Maybe the doctor was only telling him part of the story or something. Maybe… "I mean, at Deerwater we had... groups and stuff," he tried. "We at least got out of our rooms."
Dr. Heyerdahl's laugh was even more disturbing than his regular voice. "Groups? Adorable. However, not the most efficient. Sometimes solitude is the only cure to insanity, Mr. Ackles."
Insanity? Jesus Christ, this was a different approach than Deerwater. His whole time there, not once had someone outright called him off the deep end. From the looks of things, though, the state hospital played with a little more 'tough love.' He nodded slowly. "I guess?"
Dr. Heyerdahl finally, mercifully, stopped, opening a door. "Ah, here we are." He walked in, gesturing for him to follow.
Jensen eyes widened a little as he took in the bare room, nearly gaping at the stark white walls and metal cot with a thin mattress, pillow, and blanket. That was it. The bed was the only furniture in the tiny room - tiny cell, he amended in his head.
He couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "And I thought Deerfield looked like a prison…"
Dr. Heyerdahl turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have a problem with the way we operate, Mr. Ackles?"
Jensen shifted uncomfortably, unable to hold the doctor's unyielding gaze. "Just... surprised, I guess."
Dr. Heyerdahl tilted his head to the side, glancing around the room and chuckling. "I'm sure you'll get used to it."
Jensen paused before looking at the doctor, almost in disbelief that this was seriously happening. "How long am I supposed to stay here?"
The answer was swift, smooth, and emotionless. "As long as it takes."
"So... So what, patients here just... sit in their rooms all day? How does that help us get better?" Jensen was torn between terror and anger and he was willing to bet that he wasn't having much success keeping them off his face.
Dr. Heyerdahl grinned again and Jensen fought down the urge to run as far away from the doctor as he could, if only to get out from under his almost predatorial stare. "Oh, you and I will have sessions, of course. Talk about how things are working. You'll have your medication. And you can talk to the other patients at meals."
Jensen sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, nodding. "Right. Of course." This entire ordeal was so messed up… What the hell kind of hospital was this, anyway?
Dr. Heyerdahl glanced at the door. "Well then. Shall I give you time to get adjusted to your new surroundings?"
Jensen paused, not really wanting the doctor to stay any longer than he had to, but... "Actually, could I have a painkiller?" He gestured to his casted leg with one of his crutches. "It's starting to wear off. I think Deerfield made sure I had a prescription all written out before I left."
"Hmm, I can't see any current issue with it. You'll receive one at lunch, which should be in fifteen minutes. I'm sure the small wait won't be any issue?" Dr. Heyerdahl looked at him as if he didn't really expect an answer, and Jensen got the feeling that it didn't really matter if it would be an issue or not. He was just going to have to wait no matter how much it hurt.
Jensen gave him a small smile, trying to make amends for his initial reaction to the hospital. He was going to be here for a while, he couldn't afford to be on anyone's bad side. "No, it's fine. Thank you, doctor."
"No, thank you." With that, Dr. Heyerdahl turned, strutting out of the room and shutting the door behind him.
Jensen couldn't hold back a flinch when he heard the lock click.
He sighed, laying back on the bed to wait, using the pillow to prop his ankle up. "'Nice people,' huh, Jared? Forgot to mention that it's a prison, didn't you?" Still muttering profanities under his breath, Jensen let his eyes slide closed. If this was 'home' for now, might as well get comfortable.
Jensen didn't know how much time had passed before he heard the turn of the lock on his door again, but from the tight growling in his stomach and the steady throb of his ankle, he guessed it had been a lot more than fifteen minutes.
Dr. Heyerdahl walked back in the room again, that freaky grin still plastered to his face. "Time for lunch, Mr. Ackles. I'm assuming you'd like to join your other patients? If your ankle is… too much of a burden, I could always have one of the nurses bring it to you."
Jensen grabbed his crutches. Like he was going to pass up a chance to get out of the room he would apparently be locked up for almost his entire stay at the state institution. "Nah, it's cool." He pulled himself up awkwardly, starting toward the door.
"Glad to hear it. Follow me." Dr. Heyerdahl walked out again, and once again Jensen had to struggle to keep up. He was really getting to hate this guy.
Dr. Heyerdahl led him to a large cafeteria, and thankfully, didn't stick around to chat, instead going to the other side of the room to talk to one of the other doctors.
Jensen scanned the room, looking around for an empty seat. He felt strangely like he was the new kid at school again, the sensation weirdly familiar and sending a jolt of pain through his head. What the hell? He'd never moved as a kid, never switched schools… Blinking the pain back, he noticed a table in the corner of the room that was nearly empty, the only occupant being a lone patient in hospital scrubs with messy raven hair.
Well, no time like the present for making new friends. Jensen plastered a smile on his face and hobbled over on his crutches. "Mind if I join you?"
The man looked up with clear blue eyes that widened in shock as they lit on Jensen's face and sparked in recognition. He opened and closed his mouth before finally speaking. "...It's you. Dean." And Jensen froze.
No no no no no…
After a second, the man's brow furrowed and he looked away, blinking and shaking his head, muttering to himself under his breath. "Wait, no. Don't know you." He glanced up again, smiling easily and chuckling. "Well, there is this rather interesting voice in my head that thinks he does that occasionally makes an appearance. But nope. I'm Misha, by the way. Assuming your name is not actually Dean."
Jensen was still stuck staring at the other patient, who was at this point holding out a friendly hand for him to shake. He barely processed it, his voice cracking as he spoke. "I am not Dean, okay? Dean is not real."
The man - Misha - held up his hands in surrender, pulling back the offered handshake as Jensen made no move to take it. "Hey, man, it's just what Cas thinks your name is. Cas being the voice in my head, and sometimes alternate personality. Crazy, me. Then again, aren't all of us here?" Jared's smile had been big and dorky, but this guy grinned like he thought he was the goddamn Cheshire Cat.
But still, Jensen had nowhere else to sit, and his ankle was throbbing like mad, and screw everything, he was freaking hungry. He smiled uneasily, sitting down across from the other man and nodding a greeting. "Jensen."
"Nice to meet you, Jensen," the man said in a friendly voice. "As I said, name's Misha. Where you from?"
Jensen grinned ruefully. "Hollywood, believe it or not. I was gonna be an actor." He poked at his already congealing mashed potatoes with a plastic spoon and made a face. "Look how far the mighty have fallen."
Misha took a bite of his own food, wrinkling his nose slightly before swallowing. "I was sort of a jack of all trades, I guess. A poet. I actually was able to design and build my own house. ...I can also build igloos; those are cool." He chuckled at his own pun and then shrugged. "I was doing this little um, video series with my son. It was fun for him, so…"
Jensen couldn't hold back a genuine smile at Misha's mention of his kid. "I'm a dad, too. My little girl's Keegan."
"Cute name." Misha took another bite, before asking, "So, what's your problem? Already said mine. Socially awkward person in my head named 'Castiel.' I call him Cas for short."
Jensen rubbed the back of his neck. "I think the latest diagnosis was paranoid schizophrenia. I have... these sorta delusions where I think I'm…" He trailed off, not really wanting to explain Dean's whole fantasy world to the other patient.
"You're… what? Something embarrassing?" There wasn't any judgement in Misha's tone, just genuine curiosity, but Jensen reddened anyway.
He shook his head, chuckling nervously. "Nah, just... weird. The guy I think I am's named Dean. Funny coincidence, huh?"
Misha laughed at that. "Dude, I think my alternate personality and yours are BFFs."
"I dunno, mine's a bit of a dick." He gestured to the cast, lifting his ankle so Misha could see. "Gave me this."
Misha looked at it, arching an eyebrow. "How'd he manage to do that?"
"Apparently," Jensen scoffed, "he jumped out a window. He's a bit of a Houdini... with a smart mouth to boot." One who had no sense of self-preservation or common sense, and who thought it was cool to sleep around when he already had a wife, and who...
A laughing voice broke into his thoughts. "I like him already."
Jensen shot the other patient a look that clearly said he didn't find 'Dean' nearly as funny. "That makes one of us. Dean's caused a few problems. Hopefully you won't meet him too often." He changed the subject, lowering his voice. "So do they really just keep us locked in our rooms?"
"Yup." Misha shrugged nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by how freaking creepy that was. Seriously, was his life some sort of horror flick? At his expression, Misha hurried to explain. "I mean, it does make it so no one's embarrassed about any outburst they have, unless they do it at a meal." He gestured to another one of the other patients who was currently standing on one of the tables, waving his arms around wildly while multiple doctors and security guards tried to calm him down. "Like Fred over there."
Jensen looked over at 'Fred,' watching in sympathy as the man was sedated and carried out on a stretcher. "Yeah, but, I mean... Doesn't that seem kinda creepy to you? The last place I was at had group therapy, and individual therapy, and a common room... It was downright homey compared to this joint."
Misha let out a low whistle, eyes widening slightly. "Group therapy and a common room? Huh, what do I have to do to get sent there?" After a second, he seemed to reconsider. "Then again, at this place at least, there are times when I'd rather be alone than be around the docs. They're strict, man. No sense of humor whatsoever."
At that, Jensen stiffened, becoming keenly aware of Dr. Heyerdahl's stare burning into his back from across the room. The dude was a real piece of work. He found himself dropping his voice even lower - ridiculous, he was allowed to talk - but still. Something about the doctor made him need to make sure he wasn't overheard. "Tell me about it. Dr. Heyerdahl? He's my doctor, and he's creepy as hell.
"Heyerdahl? Mine too." Misha glanced up for a half second, just long enough to see the doctor watching them, before ducking his head again, consciously or not matching Jensen's low voice. "I think he hates me. No idea why, but I just get this feeling that he's out for my head, you know? Cas dislikes him even more than I do. Says he wants to kill me. Course, that can't be right." He laughed a little - that tight, nervous laugh Jensen knew from experience, having done it himself all too often to diffuse tension. "Cas is paranoid."
Jensen let it slide. "He gives me the creeps. Looks at me like... like I dunno, like a piece of meat."
Misha grimaced, rubbing his temple. "Yeah, I know the feeling…" he agreed distractedly, blinking hard. Before he could finish his sentence, the dark-haired man let out a hiss of pain.
"Hey, Misha, you okay, man? Migraine?" He glanced up sympathetically. "Maybe you could ask for a painkiller or something."
The other patient seemed confused for a moment, blinking at him for a long moment before shaking his head. "That… is not my name." His voice had suddenly deepened, the playful tone gone and a rough, low, gravelly one taking its place. The change was like night and day, and Jensen wondered if it was this weird watching him switch to 'Dean.'
"So... so this is Castiel now." Jensen hesitated slightly, not wanting to say the wrong thing and make this even worse. "Should I get a doctor? Misha sort of told me about you but didn't say... do you have an as-needed med you gotta take?"
'Castiel' looked at Jensen as if seeing him for the first time, the once warm and friendly blue eyes now piercing and otherworldly. "Dean. It is good to see you're alright." He shook his head, looking around to take in the cafeteria with a practiced eye. "Things are… strange here. I do not remember everything. I am not sure as to who I am, exactly… This 'Misha' seems to have taken almost complete control of myself and my memory."
No, no, shit, this could not be happening. The last thing Jensen needed right now was trouble, was someone calling him Dean and enforcing the delusions. He pulled back, ignoring the pounding of his head - he wouldn't listen. "Uh, no, Misha. We don't know each other. We just met. And my name's Jensen, not Dean." Realizing he wasn't getting through to the other patient, he sighed, muttering to himself, "I should probably call someone."
He swore when he realized Dr. Heyerdahl was the only doctor still in the cafeteria, the others already escorting patients back to their rooms. For a second, he considered letting it go,but one glance at Misha, who seemed to be trying to remember and recite a Latin chant, and his choice was made. "Uh... Dr. Heyerdahl?"
Dr. Heyerdahl walked over as though he had been waiting, grinning overly politely. "Does there seem to be a problem, Mr. Ackles? Mr. Collins here can easily be sedated if he seems to be too much...trouble."
Jensen frowned, shaking his head quickly. Since when was sedating someone plan A? "No, Misha's cool. Just, does he have a PRN for when his split personality surfaces?"
Misha - no, 'Castiel' - glanced at him, confusion mixed with betrayal etched into his features. "Dean, what are you doing? You know who he is…"
Jensen couldn't help but snap at the name. "I'm Jensen, Misha." This was so not helping his already pounding head… He closed his eyes.
'Castiel' frowned, shooting him a look. "I am not this… Misha you speak of. Misha is the imposter, Dean."
"Ah, I see the problem now." Heyerdahl tutted sadly, as if Misha were a disobedient child. "Don't worry. Come along now, Mr. Collins. Let's go get your medication. Stand up now."
Misha glared at him the doctor, a determined expression on his face. "I know what you're doing." Misha looked down, blinking. "I think..."
"He's just trying to help, Misha." Jensen smiled reassuringly, hoping that 'Castiel' wasn't going to cause a big scene.
"I won't do as he asks. He's up to something…"
The doctor's smile grew wider, although he pretended to be dismayed at his patient's refusal. "Don't resist me, Mr. Collins," he chided, "or I'll have to sedate you. For your own good, of course. Now, stand up. Time to go."
Misha only frowned stubbornly, not budging from his seat.
Jensen tried to smile reassuringly, knowing only too well how scary and confusing it was in the middle of a delusion, and getting sedated only made it worse. "It's okay, Misha. Just do what the doctor says, and-"
Misha cut him off, on the verge of panic now. "No, I won't do it. I-"
Before Misha could even finish his sentence, Dr. Heyerdahl pulled out a needle and stuck Misha in the arm with it, sedating him. "That's better."
"Hey!" Jensen stared at the doctor in utter disbelief, reaching out to grab his new friend and lower him gently to a safe position. "What was that for? He wasn't violent or anything!"
Dr. Heyerdahl looked at Jensen, wearing a slight, smug grin. "He was resisting. Having another fit, you might say." The man shrugged, totally unconcerned with the patient slumped over on the table. "It's always easier to deal with Mr. Collins himself, not his alternate personality. He'll be just fine, Mr. Ackles. One might say that Mr. Collins was already unconscious. It was 'Castiel' who was in control, yes?"
Jensen gaped at the bearded man in front of him. "But he wasn't having a fit! He was totally calm!"
"I'm not sure how they operated at your last institution, Mr. Ackles, but here…" Dr. Heyerdahl's lip curled upwards with contempt. "We don't tolerate outbursts. If a patient resists, we make him or her stop. I assume that won't be a problem?"
Jensen still couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But... but that wasn't an outburst!" Two orderlies arrived with a stretcher to carry Misha away, and Jensen could only watch, clenching his fists in fury. "That was him having a mental illness! You treat those, right?"
Dr. Heyerdahl scoffed. "Of course we do. We give him medication, we hold individual therapy… He's allowed to be whoever he wants when he is alone. He could be the Queen of Sheba or a pole dancer for all we care. When in the presence of fellow patients, however, I'd prefer my patients to hold on to their true identities."
Jensen was still stuck on one thing, though. "He... he knew who I was." Realizing he'd spoken aloud, he looked up at the doctor. Sure the man was a wack-job, but maybe he was a wack-job with some answers. He did have a degree in psychology, after all. "Well, he knew 'Dean,' that is. Before I even told him."
Dr. Heyerdahl tilted his head to the side. something lighting up in his eyes that didn't seem very friendly. "Did he? How… interesting. What are you implying this means, Mr. Ackles? That Castiel is real?" Dr. Heyerdahl gave him an amused, patronizing grin. "That you're actually Dean, and that one man at your previous institution was really your brother?" Jensen froze. How could he know…? Heyerdahl waved a hand in mock nonchalance. "Yes, I know about that. It was in your file. Do you think that Jared ever really thought of you as a friend? More like a nuisance I'd guess, from the way you're acting now."
Jensen's face reddened furiously as the doctor pinpointed the very thoughts that had been going through his head for weeks and pulled them out. Somehow it was even worse hearing them aloud, in that nasally, scratchy voice, than just having them bouncing around in his head. "N-no, Dr. Heyerdahl, of course not. I know Dean's a delusion, I'm working on getting better." He purposely avoided addressing the comment about Jared, although the gleam in the older man's eyes said that this exclusion didn't go unnoticed.
"I would certainly hope so, Mr. Ackles. There is a rather fine line between fiction and reality. Let's not cross it, hmm?" Dr. Heyerdahl grinned again, seeming to enjoy himself far too much for Jensen's liking. His head was throbbing, and he was trapped in the hospital from hell, and now he was being talked to like a freaking toddler…
A sudden wave of agony shot through his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut as Heyerdahl became the lesser of his concerns for the moment, falling second to holding on to his identity. "No. Not Dean. I'm Jensen. Jensen."
Dr. Heyerdahl raised an eyebrow. "Does there seem to be a problem, Mr. Ackles?"
The name and the voice seemed to ground him, almost, and he used it to pull himself back, sighing in relief as he opened his eyes. He'd done it. 'Dean' had tried to take over and he'd fought him out. He'd done it...
"...Mr. Ackles?"
Jensen blinked, realizing that the doctor was waiting for a response. He shook his head. "N-no, I'm good. I just... I almost…"
"I see." Was it just his imagination, or did Heyerdahl seem almost disappointed that he'd managed to keep 'Dean' out? "I think lunchtime is over, no?"
Jensen looked down at the soggy lumps of 'food' on his tray, barely touched, and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so, too." He was almost grateful to go back to his cell. He had a lot of pieces, he just wasn't entirely sure they were part of the same puzzle.
So we hope you enjoyed tonight's chapter as things slowly begin to progress! And there was a bit more plot here to make up for last week's large amount of dialogue. What will Misha/Cas bring to the story? We certainly enjoyed writing it, and we hope you enjoyed reading it just as much. Thanks again! - Mimzy and Pixie
