Jeff was sitting in the corner of the asylum room, his legs crossed over each other, a clipboard balanced on his knee. He was rhythmically tapping his pen against it, speaking softly and slowly. "When I count to three, you will open your eyes..." he instructed, glancing at his watch and back to David. "And be awake and alert. Three..." he counted down, getting up from the stool and stepping towards David. "Two...One...David?"

Warden struggled with himself, knowing if he let go now it would take forever to get back. He didn't want to leave, too afraid to lose it all again. However, he wasn't strong enough to fight it.

His eyes were open. The blurred vision was back. He flinched, seeing the figure not too far off. There was a name being called, but he didn't recognize it yet. "What...?"

Jeff sat in front of David and quietly looked at him, his brown eyes looking between David's. He finally sat back and looked down at his clipboard. "How is Superjail, David?" he asked, doing something with his pen and the paper on his board.

DavidWarden blinked slowly, a small frown forming. He was trying to think of what happened - what Superjail was. His mind felt foggy, heavy. He didn't like it. "That's...not my name," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

Jeff looked at David, his eyes hard, his mouth set. He was scrutinizing. He finally looked away, scribbling something down quickly. "Do you know where you are?" he asked, looking back up at him.

He was confused, opening his eyes again, wishing he saw something different but was still met with the blurry figure and the cold room. He found he couldn't move his arms, either. Panic started setting in. He wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't right. He didn't want to be here. "I don't belong here..."

"Don't worry, you're safe," Jeff said soothingly, though his tone turned insistent when he re-voiced wanting to hear about Superjail.

Superjail. Superjail. His eyes widened, pupils shrinking. "I finally had it back to normal...I mean, it wasn't perfect but things were getting better...I need to go back!" He bit his lip, struggling in what he found to be a straight jacket. "Why-why did you take me away?" He looked frantic, searching for some kind of sign that this was all a nightmare. He was Warden. WardenWardenwardenwar...den...

He started shaking, eyes squeezed shut once more. "Can't...be here...wanna...go back..."

Jeff scribbled down something else. "David, I need you to listen to me," he said forcefully, setting down his clipboard and putting hands on either side of David's head. "Open your eyes, David."

"No. Nonononono-" he shook his head with each no, refusing to open his eyes. He couldn't. If he opened his eyes now, he was afraid of what would happen. He shrank away from the hands, trying to kick with his bare feet to get the doctor away from him. "Leave me alone!"

Jeff was forced to let David go and backed off, picking up his things and sighing, going back to sit on the stool, wishing he could order himself a scotch and water to pass the time until David would be willing to talk again.

He sat in his corner, shivering while he curled his legs closer to his chest. He couldn't do anything else with his eyes still shut, holding back tears of frustration. Why wasn't he back where he was supposed to be? He was in Superjail. He was. This wasn't real. The Twins did it...a mind trick. If he could just get a hold of Jailbot...

A knock on the door scared Jeff out of his skin. He looked at the little view port and saw Rowan's gingery gold hair. He stood up and opened the door. Rowan stepped in, giving a sympathetic look at David and a tray of food and medication.

They exchanged quiet words before Rowan left, sending David a last look and shutting the door.

"Look, Rowan has brought you something to eat," he said, pushing the tray towards David. "Looks like it might actually be edible."

"Stop calling me David," he said shakily, still refusing to open his eyes. He wasn't even going to try to look at the 'food'. Not that he'd be able to eat it successfully in his binding. "Go away..."

"Don't you want to get out of that jacket? You can't starve to death here." Jeff chewed on his lip thoughtfully, wondering if it would be good practice to bribe a delusional patient with their own delusions. "If you're dead you can't get back to Superjail, can you?"

Warden - that was who he was. He refused to forget. "You will just...put me back in it..." he muttered while he tried to stop shaking. The room just kept getting colder. "I'm tired of being tricked..."

"It's not a trick. You know you have to get back in it, and so do I. It's not a trick, it's a fact," Jeff said matter of factly.

Warden kept his legs bunched up against him, fighting with himself with opening his eyes. He was obviously not going back to Superjail yet. He also hadn't eaten. The smell of the food brought his hunger back. He cracked open an eye, his vision completely hindered due to the lack of glasses and teary eyes. "Fine."

Jeff smiled at the concession and walked towards David, helping him to his feet from behind and undoing the clasps on his jacket. "No sudden movements, understand?" Jeff said, releasing David completely from the stained white jacket, folding it over his arm.

Warden...wasn't sure if he felt more vulnerable in the straight jacket or out of it. He had been wearing a thin hospital gown underneath it, but he was thankful he at least had the white pants. He didn't like the white. He felt like he would vanish into the walls. He rubbed at his eyes, hands trembling. It was even colder now.

Jeff brought a pair of rectangular glasses out of his pocket, handing them to David. "You can only wear these for a little while, enjoy it," he said with a small smile.

He took the glasses, putting them on. It almost hurt his eyes while they tried to focus. It caused him to lose his balance, his hands quickly reaching for something to grab onto, the closest being the doctor. He tried not to look at him, knowing he would be acknowledging the reality of this place.

Jeff supported him quietly, though it took a fair deal of control to keep it professional. "You're alright?" He helped him back onto his feet, keeping his hands out for David just in case he felt like falling into them again. "It's been while since you could see properly, hasn't it?" he asked, trying to think back to the last time David had been allowed to wear glasses.

"N-no...I was just wearing them earlier..." he said, trying to gain his bearings and keep his mind set on Superjail. They were not going to convince him that he was delusional. "I'm fine..." He slowly walked over to the tray of food, managing to keep one of his hands on the doctor until he was close enough and sat down. It didn't exactly look good at all, but he was feeling sick from not eating.

Jeff sat opposite of his tray, twisting an end of his mustache. He watched the food disappear from the plate into David's mouth for awhile before he spoke again. "Feeling better?"

He nodded, quiet. He knew that after he was done he was going back in the jacket. He wished he had eaten slower, but it was too late for that. He rubbed his eyes again.

"How do you feel about talking now? I might get you into the excerpt field if you want to stretch," Jeff offered.

"There's nothing I want to talk about," he said tiredly. Especially not to this man. The doctor only pretended to care. Did anyone care? He wanted to be back in his room and curl up in his bed.

"Alright, I can wait." Jeff said, holding up the jacket for David to come get into. He obviously trusted David a lot more then he should, but he couldn't help himself. "You have to get back into the jacket now."

He stared at the straight jacket, seeing it more clearly now for the first time, really. It made him feel sick in his stomach, knowing he was about to be put back in it again so soon. "Right now...?" He swallowed, trying not to panic.

"Yes. Or we go for a walk and we talk," Jeff said, jingling the jacket in front of him.

He looked between the jacket and the door, thinking fast. A walk. Maybe he could get away when the doctor wasn't looking. He needed air. The talking part was just a small annoyance. "Fine. I'll walk," he muttered, staring at his id band around his wrist. The sick feeling came back.

Jeff smiled, folding the jacket over his arm again and walking to the door, knocking.

Rowan came into view, six foot four and packed to the brim with muscle, and his long strawberry blond hair tied into a neat bun at the base of his neck. He opened the door from the outside and waited for Jeff and David to come out of the little white room.

"Rowan, we're going for a walk. Would you care to join?" Jeff asked, having to look up at the tall man. Rowan gave a noise of agreement.

David...followed quietly behind Jeff, his cold hands rubbing at his arms. He hoped that it was just the room that was cold. What he was wearing wasn't particularly suited for a comfortable walk. He stared up at Rowan, his eyes wide.

Rowan looked back down at him before taking off the blue sweater he wore over his scrubs and handing it down to him.

Jeff smiled. Rowan always had a good sense about how to treat patients. Some of them really were dangerous. David, it seemed, was just lost and confused.

They wound through the halls until they met a gang of security guards. With a bit of fanagiling they let the trio through. With one more door, they were outside on a cool autumn afternoon.