A/N: Hi, guys!
As you all know, I love when you guys give me ideas and whenever you want to see something in particular, I will write it. That being said, I wrote Nutmeg because I've had multiple people message me over the year wanting to read a fic about Oliver and Lana as a pair. To those who don't like that, I suggest you don't read Nutmeg and instead check out my other Asylum fics, which are all about Lana hating Oliver and vise versa. Because trust me, I would have never written this fic if so many people hadn't asked me for it. Nutmeg is especially made for those who wanted this and asked me and for those who don't mind something a little out of the ordinary. I love all my readers and I appreciate all the love these fics have gotten but some fics are just the way they are and I won't change them just because someone disagrees. I can't please everyone, I'm sorry =(
Anyway, sorry again for the absence and enjoy the following chapter :)
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FIVE
Little Dove
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It had been a week since Lana last spoke. Oliver hadn't heard another peep from her since she had asked him not to abandon her and he took that as a very good sign that there was hope within her at all. Ever since that day, Oliver made Lana his main priority. He woke up every morning in his Boston suburban home with tiny excitement building in his stomach for he knew who awaited him in Briarcliff.
Oliver was optimistically hopeful of the opportunity and knew he would succeed in helping the once completely sane woman. Lana wasn't like the other patients and with his help; she would regain her sanity and return back to a normal life.
In those few days, Lana had gotten very attached to him. Whenever she saw him enter her chambers, her facial expression changed completely. She went from sullen and listless, to alert and mindful. She paid attention to his words and reacted to his movement. She just refrained from speaking.
This worried Oliver. He checked her tonsils in case she had some kind of throat infection that kept her from talking. He knew the pain would be enough to discourage her from using her voice but she was fine. It must have been a psychological reason—or possibly a personal one. She had spoke before and Oliver knew she would again.
Nevertheless, her weakened plea had left Oliver a little sullen. He had become Lana's only hope and his heart did break for her.
"I won't leave you." He had reassured her while she sat in the tub. "I promise you."
Oliver stopped and thought of that promise. There was the possibility of failure but he wouldn't think about that.
"Alright," Oliver said when he entered Lana's chamber that evening, "Let's get you cleaned up. Look at this mess." He referred to Lana's bed sheets and gown. She had wet the bed during the night in what must have been a night terror.
Lana shied away from Oliver, rather embarrassed of him finding her in such a state. Oliver noticed this and saddened. "Hey." He took her hand, "It's alright."
Lana met his eyes with her own. She had begun to look a little better; her bottom lip wasn't as swollen and her bruises were disappearing little by little. She also didn't look as pale as before but Oliver wanted to make sure he put some pounds back on her. She was too thin for her height and age. Every little detail counted to get her out to freedom.
"Come on." Let's get you cleaned up.
Oliver helped Lana from the bed and onto the wheelchair he used to take her around the facility. It was easier than having her walk. Lana was weak and awfully clumsy. She tripped and ran into things every few feet.
Just then the door opened and Sister Mary Eunice entered the room just as Oliver was sitting Lana on the chair. Mary Eunice noticed the dirty sheets and turned into a panic, "Oh, Ms. Winters! What happened?" She hurried to the bed and began to collect the sheets. "You poor thing. I told Carl to make sure you used the facilities before bed time." She mumbled to herself in an angry little gruff and then looked to Lana, "But don't you worry, I'll have a chat with him."
Mary Eunice looked awfully bothered but she was no harm, Oliver knew that. But he was glad to know that he wasn't the only one that cared for the patients. Mary Eunice did too, she just didn't have much authority or say but she helped them in any way she could. She was very sweet. Lana seemed calm around her too but not as much as she was around Oliver.
Mary Eunice dropped the sheets and went to Lana, "Oh, you poor thing. We should get you cleaned up."
Oliver was reluctant to let Lana go and held onto the wheelchair. "Sister, I could handle this."
Mary Eunice stood straight, blushing slightly, "Oh, Dr. That's awfully kind of you but I don't think it's appropriate…" She glanced down at Lana, "Ms. Winters is a lady and shall be treated as one."
Oliver let Mary's words play in his mind and instantly let go of the chair. He had been so focused on taking care of his patient that he had failed to realize that he, a man, bathing Lana, a woman, would be rather inappropriate. Even if she was a patient and he had no ill intentions.
"Of course, I apologize. I—I didn't think—"
Mary Eunice took the chair handles and rolled Lana around. Lana instantly panicked and reached to grab Oliver's wrist with both hands. Oliver's heart skipped a beat when she did this. Lana made the smallest panicked sound, not wanting to be torn from Oliver's side.
"Oh, Ms. Winters, don't you worry. We're only going to take you for a nice bath."
Lana looked up at Oliver with wide, panicked eyes. Oliver placed his hand overs hers and patted them. "Don't be frightened. I'll be right outside waiting for you."
Slowly, Lana let go of his wrist and settled back down, only somewhat reassured. She kept her eyes on him the entire walk to the women's bathing chambers and made a slight sound of discomfort when Oliver stopped outside of the entrance. He had made sure Lana received baths and showers on the regular, as well as a daily change of intimate clothing. Many of the patients were filthy and had gone without washing for days, weeks even. Oliver didn't want Lana to be in the same situation. It had taken a lot of convincing but alas, they had granted Lana that extra attention as long as she behaved.
Lana was behaving for the most part. She didn't bite or scratch at the orderlies and she had begun to eat if only a little. Sister Jude seemed awfully pleased with this but wasn't convinced it was true progress. She then gave Oliver another warning and reminded him on his borrowed time. Oliver only brushed her aside. He had just begun his work with Lana. He was sure to see progress sooner or later.
Lana remained often quiet as another nun came in and helped Sister Mary Eunice bathe her. She didn't fight them off. Her eyes set on the bath chamber entrance where just beyond the wall was Oliver waiting for her.
Lana was awfully reluctant to get into the bath. She was afraid it was scolding hot like many of the hot baths she had been forced to take before. Mary Eunice reassured her by putting her hand in first. "See? It's not so bad."
When Lana clung to her chair, Mary said, "Don't you want to behave for Dr. Thredson? You don't want to make him wait, do you?"
When she said this, Lana paused for a moment and slowly let go of the chair.
"There you go, doesn't that feel nice?" Mary Eunice asked Lana once she was settled into the water. "All nice and clean." She then stopped and studied Lana's far off glance, "That Dr. Thredson cares a lot about his patients, doesn't he?" Mary then looked to Sister Agnes, "Even Spivey has been behaving just a tad bit better."
Sister Agnes smiled and nodded.
"It's nice not to have to clean…things off our clothes anymore."
"At least for now."
The two women continued to chat quietly about other things. Things Lana had no interest in. She began to grow restless and a little impatient and finally when she was dried and dressed, she was handed off to Oliver again for their morning session. As soon as Lana saw him, her body relaxed and she let out a soft sigh. Oliver smiled politely when he saw her, pleased that she was clean and ready to start their session.
Oliver rolled Lana to his office where he parked her chair right next to his desk. He then brought his chair around and sat across from her. "Alright, Lana. I know we've discussed this before but I would really like for you to start communicating with me." He paused, studying Lana's expression. "Can you do that for me today?"
Lana locked her eyes on his, not saying a word. Oliver leaned in slightly, "You have to speak sooner or later."
Lana said nothing but she appeared to be listening.
Oliver looked her over and smiled, "Your wounds appear to be healing. That's a good sign. Now, I've spoken to Sister Jude—" Oliver noticed Lana flinch when he mentioned the nun's name but continued. "She assured me none of that nonsense for you again. Alright?"
Lana seemed a little bit calm when he told her this.
"Now, once you're responding a little more we'll be able to try other forms of therapy but for now, some simple activities to get your brain flowing will be of much help."
Lana blinked and glanced away. Oliver sighed and leaned back. "Well, how's about we read now, hmm?" He leaned over to his desk and plucked their chosen book from the table. He opened it and began to read.
Oliver found that Lana liked to hear him read. She seemed awfully calm when he did and rather focused. Far more than she did during other activities. Oliver thought Lana was probably submerging herself into the story, allowing herself to escape her reality. Although it would be nice, Oliver needed her to plant her feet back on the ground sooner or later. However, she needed those calm moments to herself.
After their reading session, Oliver placed the book on the table and faced Lana once again.
Her eyes were set on the desk where he had placed the book. Oliver cleared his throat to catch her attention. "Lana, as I've said before, I'm very aware of your current situation." He placed his hands together, "The reason why you're here…"
Lana seemed to grow a little tense and averted her gaze.
"Now, I don't agree that being a—homosexual, should tie you to this place. You aren't sick, Lana. You aren't. You were unfairly put here against your will. And now I need your help to get you out. That being said, I need you to answer some questions for me."
Oliver grabbed his notebook and a pen. "Now, can you tell me your full name?"
Lana's eyes shimmered as if she were thinking. She looked from one side to the other without making eye contact with him.
Oliver waited for an entire minute until he spoke. "I know you can speak. It's alright. You can with me. Now, I'll repeat my question. Can you tell me your full name?"
Lana opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. After a moment she closed it back up and became distracted with a loose strand on her maroon cardigan. Oliver sighed.
"Alright, how about I tell you a little about myself? Hmm?"
Lana looked back at him. He knew she was interested.
"Okay." Oliver began, "My name is Oliver Thredson. I was born in Cambridge and grew up in Boston. I…" He paused for a moment, trying to choose the right words, "I was taken to the foster system shortly after birth, so I never met my mother—or my father. I grew up in multiple foster homes and institutions. Then when I was of age I found my way and landed myself into a good school where I graduated and pursued my doctorate. " he stopped and looked at Lana. Her eyes were right on him. They were filled with an emotion he hadn't quite seen on her before. It seemed as if she was sad for him.
Oliver smiled. It was progress.
"I have done very well for myself, Lana. And now I'm here to help you. But I'd really like it if you told me about you and your life. Where were you born? Where did you grow up? What school did you graduate from?"
Lana shied from his questions but Oliver smiled politely no way.
When their session was over, Oliver took Lana back to the rec room where once again Dominique flooded the room. "Now, I'm going to leave you here for just a moment but I will be right back to visit you before I leave." Oliver felt uncomfortable leaving her on her own but he had other patients to attend to. Spivey was growing restless.
"I'll see you in a little, alright?" He said, patting her hand.
Lana looked up into his eyes. Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes watered.
"Enough of that." He brushed the tear that threatened to roll down her cheek, "I'll see you again." And with that, Oliver found that the small grip Lana had on him was slowly growing.
Lana was the little dove he had to teach how to fly and Oliver realized that he couldn't let her fall on broken wings.
