I don't know how wise it is to start another series when I already have a couple in progress, but oh well. *shrugs* Each part will be from a different point of view.
Author: Amanda 02
Title: Insanity, Prologue/?
Category: Drama/Angst
Warnings: Angst, all kinds of mental illnesses, language, future ncs and abuse, a couple of OCs
Pairings: none, yet…
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. All my money is spent on my ebay addiction.
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Prologue
I stared up at the imposing façade of the grey brick building as the car pulled to a stop. 'Khushrenada Adolescent Psychiatric Hospital' the letters over the doors proclaimed. I pressed my lips into a thin line. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. My father came around to the passenger door and opened it, staring at me expectantly.
"Get out of the car, Quatre," he demanded. I stared forward defiantly, refusing to look at him. He leaned in closer, and reflexively I leaned away, my skin crawling. "Get out of the car, and do it right now, and do it quietly, or I will remove you from the car." His voice was low and dangerous. I was helpless to disobey that voice. Hating myself, I slid out of the car, taking great care not to touch my father, even though he was still standing uncomfortably close. I couldn't help but yelp when his iron grip suddenly took hold of my arm, and he started to pull me up the stairs and into the building. I bit my lip to keep from screaming the entire time his hand was on me. When he finally let go, inside the lobby, I tasted the salty tang of blood in my mouth. I rubbed furiously at my arm, wanting desperately to wash him from me.
My father spoke to the nurse behind the counter, and it was not long before Dr. Khushrenada himself appeared to greet us. There was another doctor with him, much younger than he was, and who bore a striking resemblance to him.
"Ah, good morning Mr. Winner," Dr. Khushrenada said warmly, shaking my father's hand. They had met on several occasions. "This is my son, Treize. He recently graduated from medical school and is a resident on staff here." The younger doctor, Treize, shook my father's hand as well, before turning his piercing gaze on me. I scowled at the floor, his gaze making my skin crawl. I continued to rub at my arm. It just wouldn't come clean.
"This is my son, Quatre," my father replied, disdain in his voice. I rubbed harder.
"Yes, Treize, Quatre is going to be staying here with us for... awhile," Dr. Khushrenada added.
"Oh, yes, the transfer from the clinic you mentioned earlier," Treize replied, looking at me with renewed interest. I shuddered at the mention of the clinic. It had been mere hours since my father had picked me up from that damnable place. I was sure its stench still clung to me.
"Quatre was making no improvement whatsoever there. I'm sure it will be quite different here," my father said.
Dr. Khushrenada nodded in agreement. "Yes, I knew from the moment I first evaluated Quatre at the clinic that it was not the place for him, and that he would be much better off here. Well, I'll have an orderly bring in Quatre's things from your car and show him to his room. His roommate will help him to get settled in. In the meantime, why don't we go to my office to talk?" My father nodded his agreement, and the doctor had the nurse page an orderly. A beefy man in green surgical scrubs appeared, and I disliked him on site. He disappeared outside with my father and they returned after a few moments, the orderly carrying my small suitcase. With his other hand, he gripped my arm, intending to lead me away. I screamed and started thrashing in his grip, pounding ineffectually on the fist that held me in an iron grip. My skin was crawling, crawling, and panic blurred my vision. Dimly, I heard Dr. Khushrenada speaking.
"Young Mr. Winner does not like to be touched, Anderson, so you should refrain from doing so unless it is necessary." The orderly, Anderson, released me, his face unreadable. I fell back against the wall, breathing rapidly, my heart hammering in my chest. I rubbed furiously where the man had touched me. Clean, clean, I was never going to be clean! My father looked away, a sneer of disdain on his face. Treize stared at me, his wide eyes giving away his surprise. The elder Khushrenada merely gave me a condescending smile. "You'll co-operate, won't you Quatre? You won't make it necessary for Anderson to touch you again, will you? They are expecting you up on the ward. Your father will be round later to say good-bye." I glared at him venomously, but gave a sharp nod. What else could I do? I was trapped here. Resisting would be quite pointless, and would only give the people here reason to put their filthy hands on me. My stomach twisted. I couldn't let them do that.
Anderson started to walk down the corridor, and I had no choice but to follow. My father and the two Dr. Khushrenadas went down the opposite corridor, Treize pausing to give me one last look over his shoulder. Anderson led me up some stairs and down another corridor. We came to a security checkpoint. A gruff looking nurse pawed through the contents of my suitcase. Finding nothing objectionable she filled in some forms and slipped a hospital bracelet bearing my name and patient number onto my wrist. It may as well have been a manacle. I shuddered when her fingers brushed my skin.
The nurse buzzed us into the locked ward. I swallowed in fear. There had not been such extensive security measures at the clinic. This was more like a prison. Again I wondered how this could be happening to me. This was so unfair.
The ward opened onto a commons area furnished with a number of couches, a coffee table, and a TV. A number of teenagers lounged about listlessly, some of them turning to observe me with mild interest. I averted my gaze, my skin crawling. I followed Anderson down the hallway to the left of the common room. He stopped in front of room
207 and motioned me inside. I stepped in reluctantly. It was a small room, with two narrow beds to each side. The only other furnishings were a couple of desks and chairs. The room's sole occupant raised his head when we entered and grinned widely. I stared. There was something utterly humourless about that grin.
"Yo, Anderson, is this my new roommate? What's his name? What's he in for? You didn't stop off in the janitor's closet to molest him or anything did you?" The boy asked, bounding to his feet. My back stiffened, and my face flushed red. I edged away from Anderson. Molest? The boy, who had a ridiculous braid snaking down past his butt, sensed the cause of my discomfort and winked at me. "Hey, I was just kidding, Anderson wouldn't do something like that. Would you, Anderson?" On the last three words his voice became very sharp, and his eyes seemed to dig daggers into the orderly. My skin crawled, and unconsciously I was once again rubbing at where the man had grabbed my arm.
The orderly just regarded the boy with a contemptuous sneer. He deposited my suitcase on the floor. "I'll be seeing you later, Duo," he said before turning and disappearing out the door. The boy, presumably Duo, stared after him darkly for a moment, before turning back to me, suddenly a ray of sunshine.
"Hey, man! My name's Duo! What's your name? So what are you in for? Or do you not have a diagnosis yet? That's like me! Though they're wavering between manic depressive and psychotic!" Duo punctuated this with a gale of not-quite-sane laughter, before thrusting his hand out at me, presumably expecting a handshake. I shrank away from him.
"Oh, so you're one of those 'Don't touch me!' types. That's cool! You can still talk, though, can't you?" Duo said, completely unruffled as he withdrew his hand. I fidgeted a bit, staring at him suspiciously. He didn't seem like a threat, so I answered him.
"My name's Quatre," I said cautiously. Just then a loud buzzer sounded, causing me to jump in surprise.
Duo chuckled. "No need to panic, that's just they're idea of a dinner bell. C'mon, I'll introduce ya to everybody!" he said, heading out of the room. I sighed and followed him. It's not as if I had a choice.
TBC