Another long taxi ride back to the institute for my review. At least I'm not in the 'cell block', there's a seperate building that looks like it was once a school at some point that they use for housing the doctors and family members. It's also where the doctor's offices are. Shrink Betsy is waiting for me down in the office. It's strange seeing her without the coat. I suppose that since she's mixing with regular people she doesn't have to stand out from the loony patients. Still suspiciously happy though.

"Jack! Good to see you! How are you doing?" She's cheery but genuinely interested in my answer as she shakes my hand, both as my shrink and as a decent human being.

"I'm doing good" I nod, returning the smile. Though not as big but just as cheesy.

She leads me down the corridor and up a flight of stairs, not really talking to me but making small talk. It's a little awkward, this small talk, but I guess she doesn't like discussing what she'll be asking me once we're in her office out in th open like this. She asks about the weather and what i've been doing with myself – if I have a job yet or not, if I've seen family or friends, she asks after Marla and asks if I've spoken to my father. The minute we're in her office she hold her arm out, guiding me to a couch, tells me to sit or lie down – 'Whichever is more comfortable' – and closes the door behind me.

"So, no job?" I shake my head. "Date with Marla?" I look to the left and scrunch my nose, waving my hand in a 'so-so' answer. Shrink Betsy sighs and sits on the chair opposite me and in front of her desk. "No communication with your father" she doesn't wait for an answer, "What about Tyler?".

"He's not made much of an appearance since I started the meds" It's sort of the truth, no one can really fault me for it. I just can't tell her that I only started taking them a few weeks ago.

"When did you start taking them? Before or after he appeared?"

Fuckin' mind reader. "I started when I got them" I say and she just looks at me.

"Jack this is a quick review of how you're doing and then I'm going to prescribe either the same medication or new ones, depending on how well or how badly you're doing. You need to be honest with me."

"I am being honest."

The rest of the review is basically about what I've been up to. I tell her that I've cleaned up and redone the house on Paper Street, she tells me she's a little concerned with me living in the house again but that if it makes me feel more comfortable I've to be careful about 'triggers'. I talk to her about the fact I've started to sleep on a more regular basis, she asks how much of those meds I have left and if I think I'd be able to sleep on my own or if I'd be better on 'weaker' sleep meds. I confide that I'm not sure how exactly I'm going to get a job what with the 'crazy man' stamp that's on my records. She tells me to start small scale – odd jobs, supermarkets – that I need something constructive to do with my time. Just because I have the pay off perks from my old boss doesn't mean I'm going to be financially safe. I tell her about the Y and then blurted that I'm thinking of converting it back into a gym, missing out the Fight Club possibilities.

"That sounds a great idea!" She says and then telling me that it would give me something to do with my time and I could get gym equipment from a company her buddy used for his home gym that were cheap and good quality.

I don't tell her about Tyler's first appearances and me taking his advice, or about the Monkeys or that Tyler seems to have plans he wants them to put into motion, and I don't tell her a thing about Fight Club. Though I am liking the idea of using the Y as a gym...make a little money that the Monkeys could use to buy themselves an apartment. Get away from me and Tyler. She's happy with what she's been given and prescribes me new sleep meds and more vomit-green capsules to keep Tyler at bay.

Shaking hands at the exit she gives me a card with her office number and says that I should call that one if something happens, explaining that it's a different number for different patients depending on their 'recovery stage'. I get into the taxi that pulls up and assure her I will call if something happens and thank her for her time. She waves as the car pulls away.

"Sir". Fuckin' taxi driver's got a split lip and bandages around his hands. Should have noticed that.
"Yeah wha-"

"Sorry, but there's a...a 'situation'...of sorts" This guy looks like a real bruiser, the kind of guy bull dogs shit themselves because of and here he is, shaking like the smallest little kid on a dodgeball court.

"What kind of 'situation'?" He's making me anxious, "What's happened?"

"The basement in the Y. We found something under there and we're not sure what to do with it"

I sigh and tell him to go the route past the pharmacy.

After I pick up my meds and we arrive at the hall there's a bunch of Monkeys outside, shifting from foot to foot. They look like they've all been told they only have days to live. Angel Face on the other hand looks like a kid on Christmas.

"Sir!" He looks at me like he wants to leap into my arms, "I gotta admit, if I may? Well I'll be honest, I thought you were bulshittin' me about that list and then we go down the basement and there it is!"

I have the most confused look I have ever had on my face. I can tell. I can't see it myself but I know it's there. I make strange, stuttered noises and then walk past him. There's Monkeys still boarding windows and they all nod or clap as I walk by. Slowly, very slowly, creeping down the stairs to the storage basement, I find the light already on, the draw chain of the bulb still slightly swinging. I also find massive crates marked 'fragile', 'dangerous contents' and 'this way up' (reading sideways which made me freak out the minute I saw it) with a clipboard on a small table at the bottom of the stairs. It's my hand writing, but it's smaller and more of a scrawl than usual. I doubt anyone else could read the writing...there's chemical names and safety gear listed. At the bottom where it says 'Signed for:' there's an 'X' and I instantly know who's sent the kiss.

I rush up the stairs, clipboard in hand and lock the door (when did I get the key?) behind me. I bark orders along the lines of 'No one goes in there! Ever! Stay away!' and death threats to those who even so much as think about it. I get in the cab and order a return to the House on Paper Street, going over the clipboard again and again. I then start freaking out and wondering if there's been a moment when I haven't really ben aware of what's happening or if I've not been myself at any point. Then I start remembering about the meds. The increase in my sleeping habits...what the hell is in those meds?

I am Jack's blind panic.


A/N: I've noticed that I seem to have a habit of writing chapters for this and then forgetting about them and then when someone reviews or sends me a message about it, I'll publish the chapter. Anyway, thank you for sticking around, hello to those who've stuck around and those who've just joined us. It's still quite short, but enjoy!