Disclaimer: I do not own AHS.
A/N: So glad you guys liked the first chapter of this fic! I know it's different and I'm pretty excited about it and have a lot planned for it. It's just so refreshing writing Oliver as a sane man. Anyway, here's the next chapter!
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TWO
The Wanderer
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During the following days, Oliver spent the majority of his mornings in the office Sister Jude had provided him. He sat in front of his typewriter typing notes on one of the patients he had been there to see who was a chronic masturbator.
Oliver took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with three fingers, exhausted and it was barely ten in the morning. The woman he had seen in the rec room had been weighing heavily on Oliver's mind since he had last seen her. He hadn't seen her the day before or the day before that. Oliver hadn't thought much of it until that very moment and suddenly her felt anxious about it. He leaned back on his chair, his elbow on the desk, hand clicking the pen, once, twice, three times.
Where had she been? The thought began to bother Oliver. What if she had been placed into solitary again? The outcome of that was sure to damage her mind even further.
Oliver thought he would go find out.
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Dominique played on a merciless loop. The song had begun to haunt Oliver in his dreams. It was constantly stuck in his head, driving him insane. It was possible that the song itself had turned many of the once sane patients, insane. He didn't laugh at his own little joke and instead surveyed the room.
The patients of Briarcliff were scattered around the room. There was a Mexican woman dancing along to the repeated song along the middle. Another woman stood against the wall, banging her head repeatedly against a post. Two older men sat on a table, a chess board in front of them but neither of them moved. And then there was the pinhead, Pepper who twirled in circles along with the Mexican, but stuck in her own world. A few other patients lounged around but Oliver's eyes finally came upon her.
Lana.
She sat on the sofa with her attention out the window like she had been the day before. Oliver looked to Frank, the security to see him lazily resting at the entrance of the room. He yawned and his eyes closed.
Oliver took the chance and approached her cautiously. "Hello."
Lana blinked but didn't respond.
"Lana?" He called out again in the same gentle voice. That time, Lana turned her head slightly to him, her tired eyes resting on his. "Lana?" Oliver repeated, "Is that your name?"
Lana's eyes glossed over him, slowly recognizing him from the other day—or so Oliver hoped so.
Alas, there was no fear in her eyes or confusion like the first time he had approached her.
"How are we doing today?" Oliver asked gently, pronouncing his words clearly.
Lana blinked a couple of times and looked away, back to her own world as if Oliver had never interrupted her.
Oliver looked her over, studying her straight nose, her big brown eyes, her plump lips, her high cheek bones, everything. It was then Oliver noticed two yellow and purple bruises on each side of her temples. Oliver's blood went cold when he realized what they were.
Lana had gone through electro shock therapy. The thought alone made him sick. However, it also made him think, what had Lana done to deserve it? Sister Mary Eunice said she had gotten "restless". Whatever that meant.
So many questions ran through Oliver's mind. What had Lana done to land herself in Briarcliff? Who had left her there? How sane was she when she arrived?
Oliver wanted to know and the only way of doing so was by checking out Lana's records. However, he knew Sister Jude kept those locked up tight and she wouldn't just let him see them.
So instead, Oliver sat down on the coffee table across from her. Maybe he could get to know her a little better.
"Lana? Can you hear me?"
Oliver studied Lana's expression. At first glance, she seemed expressionless, absent, blank. However, the more he looked at her, the more he could see the feelings locked behind the hard stare. He could see some sort of life and that's what made Lana different than the other patients. She had some sort of life, some little spark in her eyes. Nevertheless, what astonished Oliver the most was that there was also hurt in her eyes, a sort of loss yet to be discovered.
Lana wasn't fully lost, just wandering.
Oliver was sure Lana had been an entirely different woman before those electroshock therapy sessions and solitary confinement. Oliver too felt a loss, a loss that he hadn't met her before.
"Lana, my name is Dr. Oliver Thredson." He paused, waiting for her response, "Now, I'm not assigned to your case but if there is anything you need, don't hesitate to come find me. I will help you."
Lana flinched at the word "help" and turned to him. Her eyes screaming what her voice couldn't.
Taken in by those eyes, Oliver placed his hand upon hers and his heart skipped a beat, "I wish I could place you…" he told her; still unable to remember where he had seen her before.
"Dr. Thredson?" Frank's voice came and Oliver let go of Lana. He turned to Frank.
"Yes, Frank?"
"Sister Jude would like a word with you." He looked from Oliver to Lana who had set her attention back out the window.
Oliver nodded once. "Very well. Thank you, Frank."
"Sure thing, Dr."
Once Frank departed back to his post, Oliver turned to Lana. "I'll see you again soon, Lana." He smiled at her and stood, leaving the rec room.
Lana glanced across the room, watching him go.
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"Ya've been here fer quite a while, Dr. Thredson." Jude said as she walked around her desk.
Oliver stood before the mahogany desk, giving her a slight nod.
"And I'm sure in yer time here ya've come to known our…" She paused for a moment, "Less than loved Spivey."
Oliver nodded with a sigh at the thought of Spivey, "The Coprophiliac."
"Yes. I called ya in here because I know Spivey is one of yer cases."
"He is." Oliver said firmly.
"Well, it's been weeks, Dr. and Spivey is worse than ever."
Oliver sighed, annoyed that Spivey was the reason he had been pulled away from Lana to come to her office. He couldn't be bothered with the thought of the pedophile even though he was one of his patients. Oliver was too concerned with those big brown eyes to think of anything else.
"I'll be sure to have another chat with him. I honestly think Mr. Consuelos has it in himself to control his impulses."
"Yes, well, I am sick and tired of having shit cleaned off his walls." She sighed, "And off the clothes of my Sisters."
"Sister," Oliver said in means to change the subject, "There is another patient that has caught my attention."
Jude raised a brow at Oliver, not liking the sound of his poking around her patients. However, she said nothing and let him continue.
"There is a woman in the rec room. Her name is Lana—"
Jude chuckled, cutting Oliver off. "Ms. Winters is a loss cause, Dr. Thredson. It is in yer best interest to forget about that lost soul."
Oliver frowned at this. "Ms. Winters?"
"Ms. Lana Winters. I'm sure yer familiar with her name."
Oliver thought about it. The name had clicked in his mind. Lana Winters. The name was familiar. "The reporter?"
"Yes." Jude said, ambling back behind her desk, "Our Lana Banana came to us a long while ago. She's sick and is where she belongs. Ya best leave her be, Dr. Ya'll be wastin' yer time with her."
Oliver opened his mouth to speak, even more intrigued. He was about to ask more when Jude put her hand up.
"Spivey, Dr. Or else I'll be sure he gets a nice warm seat in our electro shock room."
"Electroshock therapy is cruel and inhuman." Oliver raised his voice, blood boiling at the thought of Lana and the bruises on her temples, "I can't believe you still subject your patients to such torture."
Jude glared at him, "I remind ya Dr. that this is my hospital. Not yours."
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Oliver left Jude's office in an angry huff. He had never been able to get through to her. Well, if she liked it or not, Oliver was going to find a way to help Lana.
He returned to the rec room where Lana was still seated where he left her. Oliver watched her steadily and his heart skipped a beat when she turned her head and landed her eyes upon him. Oliver's heart beat loudly in his ears, waiting for a response.
And then he saw it, the look of recognition in her eyes.
He was going to help her if it was the last thing he did.
