A/N: Okay, the structure of this stories gonna be a little strange. Right
now we're jumping back a year to see how Squall and Rinoa's relationship
developed. After that, we'll return to 'present time'.
Disclaimer #2: I'm not making fun of any people with mental problems or chemical imbalances. I have chemical imbalances myself. Feel free to laugh at the characters in this story because they are fictional. If I find out you're making fun of real people with mental imbalances, I'm gonna hunt you down and beat you, because it's mean!
Chapter 1
One year earlier.
Rinoa Heartily heaved a nervous sigh as she stared up at the large stone building in front of her. The outside made it seem ordinary enough, with a perfectly tended landscape, a light blue wooden sign with the name painted on in white letters, and glass double doors leading into the lobby. But something about the twenty-foot chain link fence that surrounded it, and the bars across the windows on the upper floors made a person think twice before venturing into this place.
She turned and gave a polite nod to the guard that had let her through the gate, then steadily made her way into the lobby. Inside, there were polished linoleum floors, a receptionist desk, and a waiting room. The waiting room, though small, seemed homey enough with black cushioned chairs and a painting of a barn house hanging on the above wall. Why, she wondered, did they try to make this place look so comfortable and innocent? Who could possibly be deceived, what with the guard outside checking IDs? She shook these thoughts away and proceeded to the front desk, rummaging through her pocket for her card.
"Hi," she began, holding up her ID card. "I'm-"
"Ms. Heartilly," the receptionist read off the card. "We've been expecting you. Take that door there to the right and go down the hall. Mr. Kramer's office is the third on the left."
Rinoa just nodded and took the door that read 'Employees Only'. She found the office she was looking for and gave a gentle knock. When she heard a reply on the other side, she opened the door and was met with a warm smile from the man she had only met once.
"Hello, Ms. Heartilly. It's great to see you. Are you ready for your first day?"
She nodded eagerly and smiled. "I'm looking forward to it, sir."
"Great, you'll start immediately. Your things have already been sent here, and are waiting in your room on the top floor. Now, you'll be working under Dr. Trepe. She's one of the best here, so consider yourself lucky. She'll show you the ropes, and get you started working with some of her patients. Go up to the fifth floor and ask for her at the desk. She's probably in one of her group sessions right now, but she'll get to you as soon as possible. Good luck!"
She did as she was told, taking the elevator up to the fifth floor and asking for this mysterious Dr. Trepe. Before the staff had a chance to act a slightly older blonde woman sporting a white coat and glasses burst through one of the doors and studied Rinoa closely.
"Is she my intern, or a new patient?" she questioned.
"I'm your intern," Rinoa answered immediately. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Trepe," she said, extending her hand.
The doctor didn't take it but said, "I'm running behind schedule." She then pulled a folder out from the stack she was carrying and handed it to Rinoa. "Have someone show you to group room number three. You'll be handling some of my easier patients today while I'm tending to the others. The name's Quistis by the way," she said in a rush before heading down one of the many halls. "I've had some awful interns before that didn't make it!" she called over she shoulder. "Don't screw up!"
Rinoa could only stand there, dumb-founded, until she noticed one of the nurses laughing at her. "She's not always this bad," she told Rinoa. "This is just a little first-day test she does on all her new interns. She likes to see how well they think on their feet. Now if you'll follow me, I'll show you to the room. Hurry, or you'll be late!"
Rinoa followed behind the tall, skinny woman as she lead her through some twists and turns before finally coming to a stop in front of a door. It was a plain wooden door, with a thin vertical window in it. Next to the window was a small brass plate with the words 'common room #3' engraved on it. It was on the corner of a four-way intersection. The room across from it had large windows in it, and was filled with chairs, sofas, a TV, and a radio.
The nurse followed her gaze. "That's rec room number three."
"How many are there?" Rinoa asked.
"On this floor, or in this building?"
"Never mind. Thanks for showing me around," Rinoa said, before taking a deep breath and heading into the 'lion's den'.
The door gave a painfully loud squeak as she opened it, and all eyes turned to rest on her. Few experiences were as awkward as this. For a moment she thought she was having a flash back of her first day at a new school.
"Looks like the Doc's got a new one," she heard someone whisper. She chose to ignore it, and instead stepped in and took a seat in the chair at the head of the room. Looking out over the patients, she noticed it was just as diverse a group as you would find walking randomly on the streets. There were old men, and teenage girls, disheveled people, and clean-cut people. Mental dysfunction was not limited to any one type of person.
"Hi, everybody," she began. "I'm Dr. Trepe's new intern, Rinoa Heartilly. I'll be handling your group today." She opened up the folder and looked at the top sheet. They were basic instructions for conducting group therapy. "Okay. So is everyone here?"
At first no one spoke, then a young man with spiky blonde hair and a tattoo on his face, wearing hospital pajamas and clutching a teddy bear raised his hand. "He's not here."
A girl sitting next to him rolled her eyes. "He's never here when he thinks he can get away with it, Zell."
"So, your name is Zell," Rinoa broke in, making a mental note to check his files later. Just out of curiosity, really. "So who's not here, Zell?"
"Squall," he answered simply, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "They assigned him group therapy two years ago, and he's only been to about two sessions."
"Well, it's too late to go get him now," she sighed. "Let's just move on without him. First off, we're all supposed to share something new we've learned about ourselves in the week since the last session. Zell, do you want to start?"
Zell stood up nervously. "I learned that one of the nurses here is trying to poison me, and take my best friend away," he spoke in a quiet, cautious voice.
"Who's your best friend?" Rinoa asked.
Zell held up his teddy bear, "Chester. He stays up and keeps watch at night when I go to sleep. But Squall steals him sometimes, 'cause he's my roommate, and the nurse comes in and injects me with arsenic." He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a bright red mark where the nurse had probably injected him with a sedative. "It's the skinny bitch that works at the desk sometimes! I'm tellin' you, it's a conspiracy!" he yelled.
"Thank you for sharing," Rinoa sighed, running a hand through her hair. She suddenly had the feeling that this was going to be a very long day.
On the other side of a wall, gazing through a one-way mirror, Quistis turned to look at the tall, thin nurse standing beside her, an eyebrow arched in mock accusation. The nurse let out a giggle before quickly placing a hand over her mouth.
"Sorry," she squeaked out.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
As her group was filing out about an hour later, Rinoa stayed seated and shuffled through the papers in the file, in search of the name 'Squall'. She was determined to make a good first impression on Dr. Trepe, and that meant finding out why one of the patients left under her care didn't show up. When she found the name she was looking for, she scanned over his patient information page long enough to find what room he was in, then stood up with a look of determination upon her face. Now the only trick was to find it.
She wandered the halls for quite some time, in search of the room 'C15'. After ten to twenty minutes of fruitless exploring, she found what she was looking for. Clutching her papers to her chest, she drew a deep inhale and knocked quietly on the door. There was no answer. She tried again, this time louder, but there was still no reply. Suddenly becoming worried that something might be wrong, she slowly turned the handle and ventured cautiously into the room.
"Leave me alone, Trepe," she heard a rough, masculine voice say from the window opposite the door. She was met with the sight of a tall, dark-haired man in black pants and a white wife-beater. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window at the asylum entrance below. He had broad shoulders and perfectly defined arms that Rinoa couldn't help smiling slightly at.
She nervously cleared her throat and said, "Excuse, but I'm not Dr. Trepe."
The young man turned to glare at her with frosty blue eyes that seemed to look right through her. He had an irritated scowl on his face, along with a diagonal scar that was partially hidden by unruly brown hair. "Who are you?"
"My name's Rinoa Heartilly. I'm a new intern here, and I was in charge of your group therapy session today. I noticed you didn't show up."
"Oh, so I see they taught you something in college," he mocked. "'How to tell when your patient is missing'. if he's not there then chances are. he's missing. Brilliant deduction Dr. what was it, Hardy?"
"Heartilly," she corrected with a sigh. "The point is, you were supposed to be there. I want to know why you weren't."
"Who says I'm gonna tell you?"
Rinoa put her hands on her hips. "I'm not here to play games, Squall."
"Neither am I," he replied seriously. "And don't call me Squall. That's Mr. Leonhart to you."
"Look, why don't you just-" she began but had to stop herself. It wasn't an appropriate thing to say to a patient.
"Why don't I just what? What's the matter Ms. Heartilly? They didn't teach you what to do when a patient out-smarts you?"
She took a deep breath to regain her calm, then said, "Since you failed to show up to group therapy, you're going to make it up in a one-on-one session with me sometime this week. I'll let you know as soon as I get my schedule straightened out."
"And what makes you think I'm going to show up for that?"
Rinoa smiled now, a wicked gleam shining in her eye. "Oh you'll be there alright. I'll make sure of it."
With that said she turned on her heel and strode out the door with an air of total confidence. This was war, and she was determined to win it.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A few hours later, and Rinoa was sitting uneasily in Quistis' office on the sixth floor. Quistis was looking over reports, and her own account of the session she witnessed that day, while Rinoa sat in a chair in front of her desk, resisting the urge to fidget.
Finally, when the silence became so unbearable that Rinoa thought she would explode, Quistis said, "Well, Rinoa, it looks like you had a pretty good first day. Hopefully you'll have much more of these to come. Now tell me, did anyone give you any problems."
"Yes. A patient by the name of Squall Leonhart. He was absent from therapy, and when I went to find him, he was very rude. I was hoping I could have a private session with him."
Quistis smirked slightly. "Ah, yes, Mr. Leonhart. You might say he's a good friend of mine. He's been here for three years and has hardly attended a single session."
"Yes, well, I intend to get him there, trust me."
The doctor held back her laughter. "Yes, well, by all means try. I give you permission to schedule an appointment for. Wednesday at six a.m. That will be the earliest you'll have free. Use any means you deem necessary to get him there, and give me a full report of it when it's over."
"Yes ma'am!" she exclaimed before standing and leaving the office.
Quistis' secretary, who had been standing in the doorway during the conversation, gave the doctor an odd look. "Dr. Trepe, why are you letting her taking over one of your patients so soon? And especially him. He's a special case of yours."
She dismissed the question with a wave of her hand, "It doesn't matter. Even if she does get him there, she'll never be able to get him to talk. Rinoa's only an intern. What could she possibly figure out about him in one session that I haven't been able to in three years?"
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A/N: Well, there you go! Please R&R! Tell me what you think!
Disclaimer #2: I'm not making fun of any people with mental problems or chemical imbalances. I have chemical imbalances myself. Feel free to laugh at the characters in this story because they are fictional. If I find out you're making fun of real people with mental imbalances, I'm gonna hunt you down and beat you, because it's mean!
Chapter 1
One year earlier.
Rinoa Heartily heaved a nervous sigh as she stared up at the large stone building in front of her. The outside made it seem ordinary enough, with a perfectly tended landscape, a light blue wooden sign with the name painted on in white letters, and glass double doors leading into the lobby. But something about the twenty-foot chain link fence that surrounded it, and the bars across the windows on the upper floors made a person think twice before venturing into this place.
She turned and gave a polite nod to the guard that had let her through the gate, then steadily made her way into the lobby. Inside, there were polished linoleum floors, a receptionist desk, and a waiting room. The waiting room, though small, seemed homey enough with black cushioned chairs and a painting of a barn house hanging on the above wall. Why, she wondered, did they try to make this place look so comfortable and innocent? Who could possibly be deceived, what with the guard outside checking IDs? She shook these thoughts away and proceeded to the front desk, rummaging through her pocket for her card.
"Hi," she began, holding up her ID card. "I'm-"
"Ms. Heartilly," the receptionist read off the card. "We've been expecting you. Take that door there to the right and go down the hall. Mr. Kramer's office is the third on the left."
Rinoa just nodded and took the door that read 'Employees Only'. She found the office she was looking for and gave a gentle knock. When she heard a reply on the other side, she opened the door and was met with a warm smile from the man she had only met once.
"Hello, Ms. Heartilly. It's great to see you. Are you ready for your first day?"
She nodded eagerly and smiled. "I'm looking forward to it, sir."
"Great, you'll start immediately. Your things have already been sent here, and are waiting in your room on the top floor. Now, you'll be working under Dr. Trepe. She's one of the best here, so consider yourself lucky. She'll show you the ropes, and get you started working with some of her patients. Go up to the fifth floor and ask for her at the desk. She's probably in one of her group sessions right now, but she'll get to you as soon as possible. Good luck!"
She did as she was told, taking the elevator up to the fifth floor and asking for this mysterious Dr. Trepe. Before the staff had a chance to act a slightly older blonde woman sporting a white coat and glasses burst through one of the doors and studied Rinoa closely.
"Is she my intern, or a new patient?" she questioned.
"I'm your intern," Rinoa answered immediately. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Trepe," she said, extending her hand.
The doctor didn't take it but said, "I'm running behind schedule." She then pulled a folder out from the stack she was carrying and handed it to Rinoa. "Have someone show you to group room number three. You'll be handling some of my easier patients today while I'm tending to the others. The name's Quistis by the way," she said in a rush before heading down one of the many halls. "I've had some awful interns before that didn't make it!" she called over she shoulder. "Don't screw up!"
Rinoa could only stand there, dumb-founded, until she noticed one of the nurses laughing at her. "She's not always this bad," she told Rinoa. "This is just a little first-day test she does on all her new interns. She likes to see how well they think on their feet. Now if you'll follow me, I'll show you to the room. Hurry, or you'll be late!"
Rinoa followed behind the tall, skinny woman as she lead her through some twists and turns before finally coming to a stop in front of a door. It was a plain wooden door, with a thin vertical window in it. Next to the window was a small brass plate with the words 'common room #3' engraved on it. It was on the corner of a four-way intersection. The room across from it had large windows in it, and was filled with chairs, sofas, a TV, and a radio.
The nurse followed her gaze. "That's rec room number three."
"How many are there?" Rinoa asked.
"On this floor, or in this building?"
"Never mind. Thanks for showing me around," Rinoa said, before taking a deep breath and heading into the 'lion's den'.
The door gave a painfully loud squeak as she opened it, and all eyes turned to rest on her. Few experiences were as awkward as this. For a moment she thought she was having a flash back of her first day at a new school.
"Looks like the Doc's got a new one," she heard someone whisper. She chose to ignore it, and instead stepped in and took a seat in the chair at the head of the room. Looking out over the patients, she noticed it was just as diverse a group as you would find walking randomly on the streets. There were old men, and teenage girls, disheveled people, and clean-cut people. Mental dysfunction was not limited to any one type of person.
"Hi, everybody," she began. "I'm Dr. Trepe's new intern, Rinoa Heartilly. I'll be handling your group today." She opened up the folder and looked at the top sheet. They were basic instructions for conducting group therapy. "Okay. So is everyone here?"
At first no one spoke, then a young man with spiky blonde hair and a tattoo on his face, wearing hospital pajamas and clutching a teddy bear raised his hand. "He's not here."
A girl sitting next to him rolled her eyes. "He's never here when he thinks he can get away with it, Zell."
"So, your name is Zell," Rinoa broke in, making a mental note to check his files later. Just out of curiosity, really. "So who's not here, Zell?"
"Squall," he answered simply, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "They assigned him group therapy two years ago, and he's only been to about two sessions."
"Well, it's too late to go get him now," she sighed. "Let's just move on without him. First off, we're all supposed to share something new we've learned about ourselves in the week since the last session. Zell, do you want to start?"
Zell stood up nervously. "I learned that one of the nurses here is trying to poison me, and take my best friend away," he spoke in a quiet, cautious voice.
"Who's your best friend?" Rinoa asked.
Zell held up his teddy bear, "Chester. He stays up and keeps watch at night when I go to sleep. But Squall steals him sometimes, 'cause he's my roommate, and the nurse comes in and injects me with arsenic." He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a bright red mark where the nurse had probably injected him with a sedative. "It's the skinny bitch that works at the desk sometimes! I'm tellin' you, it's a conspiracy!" he yelled.
"Thank you for sharing," Rinoa sighed, running a hand through her hair. She suddenly had the feeling that this was going to be a very long day.
On the other side of a wall, gazing through a one-way mirror, Quistis turned to look at the tall, thin nurse standing beside her, an eyebrow arched in mock accusation. The nurse let out a giggle before quickly placing a hand over her mouth.
"Sorry," she squeaked out.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
As her group was filing out about an hour later, Rinoa stayed seated and shuffled through the papers in the file, in search of the name 'Squall'. She was determined to make a good first impression on Dr. Trepe, and that meant finding out why one of the patients left under her care didn't show up. When she found the name she was looking for, she scanned over his patient information page long enough to find what room he was in, then stood up with a look of determination upon her face. Now the only trick was to find it.
She wandered the halls for quite some time, in search of the room 'C15'. After ten to twenty minutes of fruitless exploring, she found what she was looking for. Clutching her papers to her chest, she drew a deep inhale and knocked quietly on the door. There was no answer. She tried again, this time louder, but there was still no reply. Suddenly becoming worried that something might be wrong, she slowly turned the handle and ventured cautiously into the room.
"Leave me alone, Trepe," she heard a rough, masculine voice say from the window opposite the door. She was met with the sight of a tall, dark-haired man in black pants and a white wife-beater. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window at the asylum entrance below. He had broad shoulders and perfectly defined arms that Rinoa couldn't help smiling slightly at.
She nervously cleared her throat and said, "Excuse, but I'm not Dr. Trepe."
The young man turned to glare at her with frosty blue eyes that seemed to look right through her. He had an irritated scowl on his face, along with a diagonal scar that was partially hidden by unruly brown hair. "Who are you?"
"My name's Rinoa Heartilly. I'm a new intern here, and I was in charge of your group therapy session today. I noticed you didn't show up."
"Oh, so I see they taught you something in college," he mocked. "'How to tell when your patient is missing'. if he's not there then chances are. he's missing. Brilliant deduction Dr. what was it, Hardy?"
"Heartilly," she corrected with a sigh. "The point is, you were supposed to be there. I want to know why you weren't."
"Who says I'm gonna tell you?"
Rinoa put her hands on her hips. "I'm not here to play games, Squall."
"Neither am I," he replied seriously. "And don't call me Squall. That's Mr. Leonhart to you."
"Look, why don't you just-" she began but had to stop herself. It wasn't an appropriate thing to say to a patient.
"Why don't I just what? What's the matter Ms. Heartilly? They didn't teach you what to do when a patient out-smarts you?"
She took a deep breath to regain her calm, then said, "Since you failed to show up to group therapy, you're going to make it up in a one-on-one session with me sometime this week. I'll let you know as soon as I get my schedule straightened out."
"And what makes you think I'm going to show up for that?"
Rinoa smiled now, a wicked gleam shining in her eye. "Oh you'll be there alright. I'll make sure of it."
With that said she turned on her heel and strode out the door with an air of total confidence. This was war, and she was determined to win it.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A few hours later, and Rinoa was sitting uneasily in Quistis' office on the sixth floor. Quistis was looking over reports, and her own account of the session she witnessed that day, while Rinoa sat in a chair in front of her desk, resisting the urge to fidget.
Finally, when the silence became so unbearable that Rinoa thought she would explode, Quistis said, "Well, Rinoa, it looks like you had a pretty good first day. Hopefully you'll have much more of these to come. Now tell me, did anyone give you any problems."
"Yes. A patient by the name of Squall Leonhart. He was absent from therapy, and when I went to find him, he was very rude. I was hoping I could have a private session with him."
Quistis smirked slightly. "Ah, yes, Mr. Leonhart. You might say he's a good friend of mine. He's been here for three years and has hardly attended a single session."
"Yes, well, I intend to get him there, trust me."
The doctor held back her laughter. "Yes, well, by all means try. I give you permission to schedule an appointment for. Wednesday at six a.m. That will be the earliest you'll have free. Use any means you deem necessary to get him there, and give me a full report of it when it's over."
"Yes ma'am!" she exclaimed before standing and leaving the office.
Quistis' secretary, who had been standing in the doorway during the conversation, gave the doctor an odd look. "Dr. Trepe, why are you letting her taking over one of your patients so soon? And especially him. He's a special case of yours."
She dismissed the question with a wave of her hand, "It doesn't matter. Even if she does get him there, she'll never be able to get him to talk. Rinoa's only an intern. What could she possibly figure out about him in one session that I haven't been able to in three years?"
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A/N: Well, there you go! Please R&R! Tell me what you think!