Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for a whopper of an addiction to this show. But hey, who doesn't right?

Author's note: First of all I'd love to thank my sweet beta's for being two very cool ladies. And now for every awesome person who reads this story, you are saints for being so patient and I totally suck for being so slow. It was a lack of inspiration that kept this chapter from being posted, as well as my fav cousins coming over from London. So again, apologies! Now to every sweet person who reviewed, Brody – he left her at the institution, didn't he?! Or is that not what you meant? Bluestar – ya big bully, everyone go read this girl's work, she's superb! Darrel, Anxious & Muchtv, sorry I know I'm slow, next update will be quicker. Melanie – I did have the general outline planned out, but it's the getting it on paper which is tricky. Yeah M5 is the best! Kayla, there will be more memories in the next chapter. Candy, lol thank you that is the funniest review yet! Sethluver, bop1997, thanks a lot! RockinTheOC – wow thank you, that means a lot. I'm so glad that you think you think the hospital & her illness seem real. I adore your writing! And Zander'sgirl, well you always blow me away with your reviews, I find myself smirking all day because of you. Thank you all so much for being so sweet, I just had to shout you all out personally! I'm already working on ch 13, so please read and review and let me know your thoughts. Thanks everyone.

Lost In Babylon

Ch 12

Days like this, I don't know what to do with myself
All day – and all night
I wander the halls along the walls and under my breath
I say to myself
I need fuel – to take flight –

And there's too much going on
But it's calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion

Is that why they call me a sullen girl – sullen girl
They don't know I used to sail the deep and tranquil sea
But he washed my shore and he took my pearl
And left an empty shell of me

Sullen Girl – Fiona Apple

"Welcome home Mrs. Cohen." A chorus of people declare rather cheerily, too cheery for my taste really but I'd never say that out loud. Upsetting the scheme of things is not in my agenda anymore, and I tightly press my lips together until it almost feels like I've no way of speaking ever again. No way of harming anyone in this clean white world. My anxious nature is making it so hard to enjoy my new title. Mrs. Cohen, it almost sounds like sanity if I were a gullible woman, one without scars to remind her of all that faith has taken from me. I faintly register the warmth of this place and wish I'd feel the comfort I had hoped it would hold. Unnerved by the spinning ways of my mind, very quickly, I shake off these buzzing thoughts.

Dressed in the starkest shades of black, the row of people before me smile like their souls depend on it, as white frills eerily peek out from certain strategic parts of their uniforms. I wonder if they're spies sent by the Doc, but I'm just left feeling annoyed by my own fear of white uniforms. Incessantly, I seem to be trying to comply with more pleasant emotions but the bitter part of me is sturdier than I had imagined.

So I glance in Seth's direction, seeking some refuge in his reaction, but he seems as freaked out by the display of staff lining the driveway as I am. I should be better than this, I tell myself in mute strictness, and smile for them. Mimicking the mannerisms of what I would think would qualify as normal. It's harder than I would've thought yet my smile never falters.

See, your boss' wife isn't as loony as you'd all like to think. See, I can still function… I hope Seth will see my shaky efforts as bravery, even if I don't feel any valor in my petrified state.

Ever my willing guide, Seth leads me past the awkward looking drones and towards the entrance of this impressive white mansion. I let my finger trail into the intricate pattern carved into the sturdy wooden door, hoping it would hum all this house's secrets into me. I can feel all eyes on me, and swiftly remove my hand again, afraid they'll see I haven't got a clue. I hardly have a moment to stop and take it all in, new information has never felt this stifling before. And suddenly I wish the fat lady in the apron were in fact Bertha in disguise. I need something familiar, something I can hold onto when the shiny new things become too blinding. As if hearing my frantic thoughts, Seth pressed a kiss on the back of my hand and shows me what reassurance feels like.

"Do they all have to be here?" Seth grimaces along with me like I have just voiced what his mind had been spinning with all along, and I adore him for understanding me like no other.

"They're a gift." He chuckles softly, and his sweet dimple soothes the demons scurrying wildly around in my belly. "Who gives people as gifts?" I want to laugh, but am suddenly overcome with pity for these poor people imprisoned in their stark uniforms. Right away they seem so far removed from the uniforms I knew back when green walls were all I was used to, and in an instance my fright has fleeted.

"My grandfather." For a split-second he seems to wait to see if his words will jog something loose within me, but I'm blank as usual. "I think it's his way of being supportive," Seth continues undeterred, "He didn't think I could handle keeping a household along with…"

A deep blush blossoms in his pale cheeks, as I watch in amazement. I can't help but want that for myself, that I'd be so aware of things and feel as fiercely as him. My curly boy looks like he's just tasted something sour, and decides not to finish what he was saying. My eyes itch unexpectedly and I'm surprised I feel so sad, "dealing with your crazy wife?" I end the sentence for him.

From the look in his complicated eyes I've hit too close to home, so I stop talking at once. Being right doesn't fill me with the sense of accomplishment I've been yearning for. I cannot think about his family, or mine, or what kind of effect my presence might have on life in this sunny place called home. I deeply want to find a bed and sleep and not think at all.

"Don't worry about him, you won't have to see anyone if you don't want to," my protector says in the most stern of tones. I find myself wishing I didn't bring out this primordial version of him, it unnerves me that my madness could damage the rare gentleness of this man.

"But they expect to see me right?" I glance at him, warily, looking for the first signs of corrosion in his sweet demeanor. I hope I don't ruin this man. I hope to God I don't turn the faiths against me again, I've longed for good fortune for such a long tormented time. It's my turn to be happy, isn't it?

"At some point." Seth admits, "But you that's up to you, baby." I try to stay focused, but I'm struck by the tender affection in his voice as he calls me baby. I smile for him, tilting my head slightly as my inner vixen overcomes the murmuring voices bubbling in my mind. "Up to me…" I repeat it as if it were a diamond I had found in my shoe. Unexpectedly enchanting, but its origins still as mysterious as before. I idly tap my fingertips against my mouth, relishing the feel of the words as I mouth them again. I grin once more, while this man is making things so easy again. Control is something I've been lacking for too long, and here he is, eager to fill in all the holes that I've worn into me.

"How odd," I croak, making my husband quirk a smile my way and I can't help but return it. He must find my reaction endearing, but this is all so very new. "I think I could get used to this." I try for composure, but my eyes still twinkle with fiendish delight, like I have just got away with snatching some big prize yet no one minds that I'm a thief. He grins back at me, and I am blown away by the pleasantries and innocence conquering this moment. I never knew that knowing only one person could be so comforting amidst the terror of this brave new world.

I'm glad Seth is my only confidant. I'm glad I am his. Or so his abstruse eyes seem to whisper to me whenever he forgets to catch himself…and hide the extent of his desperation. I get to see traces of this trembling, almost savage need he has for me, which bolsters me to continue with this desperate quest into my psyche.

For the first time really, I glance around, removing my gaze from the familiar back to the strange. I can feel him watching me take it all in, gauging my reaction while I can't seem to summon one up at all. This doesn't bode well for my re-entry into the sane world, my mind purrs dejectedly, so I try to smile my defeat away from me. I give Seth a piteous look, and pray he understands how hard I tried to see more in the shiny floors and gleaming marble than mere good housekeeping. Urgently pressing me against his slender frame, Seth proves once again what an odd mixture of frailty and strength he really is. Some part of me wants to look at him, ask him how he manages such breathtaking contradictions. Beg him to explain how he keeps so much hope despite my ceaseless failing to meet any of his standards. I want to ask him about the woman I used to be, but his heartbeat thumps my depressing thoughts into submission and I merely busy myself with breathing him in.

"How about you take a rest. I'm sure today has been overwhelming." I nod, complacent despite the nasty taste his words leave in my mouth. It reminds me too much of the cooing condescending words which got so easily thrown about at the clinic. "You need to lead the way, Cohen."

He takes my hand, and like an infant I'm guided through impressive yet incomprehensible hallways. We make our way into a quaint bedroom that does nothing to tempt my memory. I'm grateful for its simplicity, but before I can even register the sought-after emotion Seth is leaving my side again.

"You're leaving?" I say rather stupidly, which instantly makes my cheeks feel like they are on fire. Seth smiles sweetly at me, which only leaves me feeling even more embarrassed.

"Maybe it's best if you had your own room for now." It's his moment to blush, and for some reason I feel the urge to arch an eyebrow at him.

"What do you mean?" Some strange part of my brain prods me in the back and I'm acting in a way I never knew I had the backbone for. I didn't know I wanted him to stay this much, or make him feel this uncomfortable this badly. I don't know which one is my motivation, and maybe I don't care that much anyway. Seth doesn't know what to say, I can tell because he's doing that stammering stuttery thing he did back when I kissed him in front of the white-coats. I feel pleased and don't fully understand.

"Doctor Van Dale and the medical staff suggested that we had to take this slow." He won't stop blushing, despite the fact that he's finally been able to say the unspeakable. I nod solemnly, and I hope I don't come off as bitter. I glance around the room, and all of a sudden I notice another bed. "I didn't think you cared what Van Dale's opinion about this…me, was." I say, slightly disconcerted and a whole lot disappointed. Seth looks uncomfortable again, and his silence makes me bite my bottom lip nervously, realizing that perhaps I'm missing something bigger than I am.

I look at him for a moment, taking my time to scrutinize him because I can't think of a moment where I really looked at him. His rescue of me was enough for me to pledge my undying loyalty and faith in this man. But now… My chest constricts and I wish he'd leave for a while, let me soak this in. This new identity of mine, making his generosity feel like chains around my wrists, cutting me deeper than I had ever done before.

"Sometimes…" I start, not really registering what I want to say but certain I should speak…explain myself to him. I want to tell him that I hate it when people assume things about me, think they know what's best for me. Think they know who I really am. I don't even know, how could anyone else? I chuckle, too bitter for anyone's taste.

"You just," my brow knits in frustration, "sometimes you remind me of my father… and it makes me so angry." I'm puzzled by my words, yet nonetheless a sense of knowing travels through my veins and I'm urged on again. "He didn't trust me you know. Not completely." I see in Seth's face that I'm hurting him with my mindless gibberish. I want him to notice how much this pains me as well, but perhaps I shouldn't except anything as raw as this from my delicate husband.

"What do you mean?" His voice cracks a little, and I can't tell if it's anger or hurt or a mixture of the two. "You aren't telling me the truth." I realize I don't have anything left to care about his feelings, my indignation is too filling…too consuming, and perhaps I love being blind this way. Goosebumps form all over my skin, and I'm shocked at how cold it is in this house.

"I… feel that there are things you need to explain to me. Why did you bring me here?" My eyes well up, "I mean, I know you took me with you to get me away from…" I don't want to mention the place I came from, so I bite my bottom lip. I tuck my hair behind my ears, centering out of place things within myself, and continue a little shakier, "You have to know I'm grateful, but god, I'm so angry that no one feels the need to fill me in. It's like I don't matter, I'm not stupid, Cohen." I might be crazy but that doesn't mean I've turned into an imbecile.

"Summer." I recognize the exasperation in his tone, and it chills me how distant I feel towards him because of it. I give him this look which makes him hesitate again, and I can tell he's unsure of where he stands. It seems too easy at times, remembering old routines and bad habits even, but I can't be bothered with trying anymore. Especially since the really difficult stuff is staying at the back of the line, hiding out till all the trivial information is out of the way.

The old man springs to my dizzy mind, and I grasp at the fact that I know the peculiar shape of this moment. The one where I plead for one little hint, a piece of my very own puzzle…and he'd look at me with those dusty blue eyes, heartless in his own kind way, and hand me nothing at all. I feel so tired suddenly, memories suck you dry and for the life of me I can't understand why I had wanted them so badly. Even Seth's brazen brown eyes seem to slowly morph into a dark shade of azure. All of a sudden it almost sounds like they are whispering my defeat instead of his love for me, that I'll always remain the clueless one here. The patient forever trapped in her straightjacket.

"Okay," I concede wearily, ever the obedient child. "Maybe you can answer me this," I look up at him, idly registering how immensely safe his presence had made me feel the first he came to visit me. How he stuck out amongst all of the depression surrounding me in that visitation room, since he always seemed too bright for that place. His curls bobbed with new possibilities, his eyes filled with old phantoms and this beautiful sense of peace amid their darkness. Too clean to be consorting with the likes of me, yet I also felt I had earned my spot beside him. I can't rid myself of contrast when it comes to him, and somehow I've decided contrast can be a beautiful surprise.

Seth nods, albeit having a stressed look about him as well. "Who is going to be sleeping there?" There's no need for me to point at the conspicuous extra bed in the room. His dark eyes look even more despondent the moment the words leaves my lips, and it breaks my heart to think of what that might mean for me. It literally crumbles when I remember the answer to my own question.