Disclaimer: I do not own AHS.
A/N: Thanks for the wonderful feedback, everyone! Ok, so I wanted to just clear out that since Oliver is totally sane in the fic, I wanted to make it a Bloody Face free world. It'll all make sense soon enough.
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CH 4- Winter's Web
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Oliver burst into Jude's office without bothering to knock. "I have a word to speak with you."
Jude was utterly surprised at Oliver's sudden appearance and stood from her desk. "And what do I owe the pleasure of this grand entrance, Dr.?" She was less than amused.
"Lana Winters." He spoke her name so loud and clearly, "I want her assigned to my case."
Jude raised a brow at this. All sense of annoyance was gone from her features and replaced with curiosity that soon withered as well. "Out of the question."
"Why not?" Oliver demanded.
"First of all, the state sent ya here with a list of patients, may I remind ya and Ms. Winters is not one of them."
"I don't care," Oliver said, "I'll take her on as well. Free of charge."
Jude said nothing, only studying him. Oliver was awfully bothered yet filled with much determination and tenacity. Jude wasn't sure she liked it but she was awfully amused, no less. "What is this fascination with Ms. Winters, Dr.? She the prettiest face ya've seen in weeks?"
Oliver stared hard at Jude, rather offended. "No. I am a professional. I don't get involved with my patients if that's what you're insinuating, Sister."
Jude huffed and walked around her desk, making her way to a counter against the wall where she had placed a rosary. "Yer a good man, Dr. Thredson, but helping that young woman is a waste of time."
"I disagree."
Jude turned to face him, "So what then? What do ya suggest?"
"I suggest you let me give her therapy. No more solitary or electroshock session. She doesn't need it. "
Jude frowned at this, obviously not liking what Oliver had to say. "That one needs all the help she can get. Not just by therapy but by God." Jude pointed up at the ceiling, the rosary now intertwined in her hand.
"Ms. Winters was not deranged upon arrival. She used to be sane. For goodness sakes, I used to see her on my television screen!" He raised his voice an octave.
"Homosexuality is not sanity, I remind you." She pointed her finger at him next the prayer beads dancing along with the movement.
Oliver calmed himself before he spoke out again. He thought about his preposition and chose his words wisely. If he played it smart there was a chance Jude would allow him to take Lana under his wing. And even though he didn't agree with the words that were about to come out of his mouth, he spoke them with much certainty.
"Aversion therapy." He said, "I have read many cases in which aversion therapy had cured many patients with Lana's…diagnosis." The last word felt wrong but he braced through it. Of course aversion therapy sounded like complete nonsense to him.
And by the look on Jude's face, it was clear that she was familiar with the concept.
"Assign Lana to my case and I will help her. I can cure her."
Jude sighed, walking back to her desk. "Very well then, Dr. I'll give into your whims but if Lana does not show any signs of improvement by Christmas Eve—"
"She will." Oliver didn't let Jude finish her threat, "I can assure you that she will."
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Oliver went home that evening quite pleased with himself. He was eager to get started working with Lana and went straight to planning his methods. He didn't believe in aversion therapy but if Jude wanted to see him achieve his goals in helping Lana, then he possibly would have to give it a try.
However, Lana was too disoriented to try any kind of aversion therapy without knowing what was truly going on. Oliver needed her to be lucid.
So bright and early the following morning, Oliver visited his usual patients, starting with Martha and ending with Spivey and then headed to Lana's chambers.
He came to a sudden halt when he found her chambers empty. Oliver felt panic and rushed out to the rec room but he did not find her there either. He hurried out of the rec room, ignoring Spivey's calls for him and hurried to Sister Jude's office. He passed a corridor and came to a sudden halt when he saw something white down the hall. Oliver whipped his head and saw Dr. Arden pushing a wheelchair. Something fell to the pit of his stomach and Oliver went to him.
"Dr. Arden!" He called.
The older man stopped at the sound of his name and turned around to see Oliver hurrying over to him. "Ah, Dr. Thredson." He said, somewhat pleased to see Oliver.
Oliver looked to see Lana sitting in the wheelchair, her gaze down the hall.
"Excuse me, Dr. Arden but Ms. Winters here is my patient."
Lana turned at the sound of Oliver's voice, landing her eyes upon him. She seemed far more lucid than she had the day before.
Dr. Arden frowned, surprised but not pleased to hear this. "What do you mean?"
"Sister Jude has rendered Ms. Winters as one of my cases." He reached over and grabbed the wheelchair handles from Dr. Arden. Oliver didn't know much about the other man just that the majority of his patients that went with him often didn't return and shortly after there was a death certificate waiting on Jude's desk. In other words, Oliver didn't trust Arden.
"Sister Jude didn't inform me of this." Arden was annoyed for the most part, reluctant to let Lana go.
Oliver insisted. "She's my patient now. I'll take care of things from now on."
Arden continued to stare Oliver down but when he saw that the younger man would not budge, he let go of the wheelchair handles. "Very well." He said curtly and stormed off down the corridor.
Oliver sighed, relieved that he had caught her in time. He wheeled the chair around in the opposite direction and headed back to her chambers. "Aren't you quite the popular one, Lana." He said half jokingly.
Lana leaned her head back, glancing up at him. Oliver noticed her and glanced down, giving her a smile. "You look awfully better today. I hope you're feeling so."
Lana didn't say anything but continued to stare up at Oliver with a sense of relief and wonder.
In Lana's chamber, Oliver carried her off the wheelchair and sat her upon the bed. "A nice bath would do you some good." He told her, "Perhaps some clean clothes too."
Oliver then took the old wheelchair and wheeled it to the side of the room, making a note to get Lana some clean clothes or at least sending the ones she was wearing to wash. When he set the chair aside, he turned to Lana who had not taken her eyes off of him.
"You remember me, don't you?" He stepped closer, stopping at the foot of her bed.
Lana didn't respond but continued to stare at him. She seemed so different than she had the previous days he had seen her. He knew she could talk but wondered why she chose not to. Perhaps there was something preventing her from it. Nonetheless, Lana was calm and that was a good sign.
"Well, Ms. Winters, I'm happy to inform you that I will be your doctor from now on. Sister Jude has allowed me to assign you on as one of my cases and I will do what I can to make sure you walk right out of this place." He walked around to the side of the bed and sat down, "I know you don't belong here."
Lana let her glance fall, her eyes beginning to water. She understood his words. That was another good sign.
"Lana?"
Lana glanced up at her name, which made Oliver smile. She was reacting to the sound of his voice.
"Can you help me help you?"
Lana's eyes fell to his hands and she reached for it, placing her hand upon Oliver's.
This brought another smile to Oliver's face. "I'll take that as a yes."
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Over the next few days, Oliver would see his regular patients in the mornings and after lunch; he would visit Lana in her chamber. She was still too weak to venture out of the small, confined room but was awake whenever Oliver found her.
Every afternoon Oliver would read to her. The first book he had brought with her was Charlotte's Web, hoping that the children's book would be vivid enough to get her mind and her imagination going without stressing herself out too much. Lana remained quiet during her readings but she remained somewhat alert. Oliver she was listening because whenever he would stop, she would set her eyes upon him and wait patiently for him to start again.
Oliver tried the same method with another patient of his, Edgar. Edgar was a man around the age of forty who had also been submitted to multiple electroshock therapies due to his violent behavior. However, when Oliver read to Edgar, the man didn't appear to be listening and when Oliver stopped reading, Edgar's attention remained elsewhere. The same happened to Martha. The woman just kept banging her head against the post without stopping.
But not Lana. She listened.
Oliver took notes of every little thing Lana did, keeping track of the things they needed to work on. Speech was one of them. He knew she could talk, why she refused was beyond him but he encouraged her greatly.
"Hello, Lana." He told her every afternoon when he entered her room, in hopes that she would say "Hello" back.
When he spoke to her, he made sure to make eye contact or at least face her so she would know he was talking to her. Lana was far more responsive than she had been when he first encountered her. And it seemed to Oliver that she enjoyed his presence. For once, she didn't cower when he entered the room much like she did when Sister Jude or any of the other nuns or orderlies did. Another person whom Lana felt at peace with was Sister Mary Eunice. The young nun was awfully sweet to Lana and didn't talk down to her. She was the only person Oliver trusted Lana with.
When Oliver went home every evening, Lana remained in his thoughts the entire drive home. Each day it was something different. On Tuesday it had been the way she kept her eyes on him without turning away. On Wednesday it had been the way her fingers twitched when he entered the room and on Thursday it had been the way she grew nervous when he got up to leave the room. Each single day held something different in where Lana would make the smallest step back to sanity. They were tiny little things but soon enough she would be ready to take larger steps in her therapy.
Visiting Lana was slowly becoming Oliver's favorite part of the day and he was enjoying his time with her tremendously.
On that Friday evening, he entered Lana's chamber like he did every day. He was halfway through Charlotte's Web with a few more chapters to go.
"How are we doing today?" Oliver asked her. "Well?"
When Lana didn't respond to his voice, Oliver grew worried and set the book on the small nightstand. "Lana?" He asked her.
Lana lay on her side, her eyes half closed, gazing off into the distance. Oliver frowned at this, panic setting in. "Lana?" He called her name again and noticed that she was sweating profusely. He placed his hand upon her forehead and found that she was burning.
"Shit." He muttered, "Hold on." Oliver picked her up bridal style in his arms and hurried her out of her room.
"Carl!" He cried out to the orderly who came rushing down the corridor at his first beckon. Oliver had seen Carl dealing with a misbehaving Shelley before he arrived to Lana's room.
"What's the matter, Dr.?"
"Hurry and call to Sister Mary Eunice, Ms. Winters is burning up!"
"Right away, Dr.!" Carl said and ran off.
Oliver hurried Lana down dark corridors until he reached the women's bathroom. He rushed Lana to one of the bathtubs and carefully laid her inside, leaning her back against the end of the tub, sitting her upright. Her body wobbled slightly but he held her up. "Hold on now," He told her, "We need to break this fever."
He turned the cold water on and let it splash against Lana's body. Oliver grew impatient as the tub slowly filled with water. Lana turned her head to look at him.
Oliver placed his hand upon her cheek, "Don't worry, I'm here."
Lana's lips parted, breathing slowly. "Don't…" She whispered through the fever and the delusion.
"What?" he asked, urging her to speak, "What is it, Lana?"
"Don't…" She repeated, holding his gaze, "Don't leave me…"