Disclaimer: If I owned Mort, I'd be living with him in his cabin and doing very naughty things with (and to) him…but since I don't, I'm stuck here writing stories about him (sighs).

AN: Alex could be either one of two people: Johnny Depp, or Orlando Bloom. I was personally thinking of Orlando while creating Alex, but I guess I should have put a British accent in there, huh? Well, just think of Alex as an American Orlando…or include the accent if you want. Or you could think of him as Johnny, but since he's kind of already here in Mort-form, it would just get confusing, wouldn't it? So it might be better to stick with Orlando or any other actor you may prefer. Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 5: Desperate In So Many Ways:

That Night: Kayla's POV:

Having an extremely hot author think you're the woman from his dreams might flatter some people, but Kayla wasn't so sure about the whole thing. What if he was one of those types who ends up killing others based on their resemblance to the woman he dreams about? What if he tried to do something to her when she was alone and unprotected? Should she quit her job at the hospital?

'Okay, so I quit a job I've only had for about two days,' she thought, sipping her hot chocolate, letting the hot liquid warm her body and sooth her mind. 'Then what happens? What does that say about me to other potential employers?'

It pretty much told them that she was a person that couldn't hold up under stress, that's what. And what company would hire someone who couldn't handle stress? Not a single one. Stress and complications are a part of life, and people who can't deal with it will end up doing poorly throughout life. That was that.

'But dealing with an obsessive mental patient is a bit unique,' a sarcastic voice said in her mind. 'No one would blame you for quitting under such circumstances.'

Then what happens? How fast could she find another job? She'd been lucky in finding this one so quickly, and she desperately needed the money for food. Plus, her monthly rent was due in a few weeks, and her paycheck would more than cover it and her food bills. No, she really needed this job, and she would keep it. All she had to do was avoid Mort Rainey, and since he was going to be separated from her by several inches of plastic shielding, as well as orderlies, she was going to be perfectly fine.

"I mean, how hard could it possibly be?" she said, putting her empty cup in the sink and heading off to bed.


That Same Night: Mort's POV:

It couldn't have been her, could it? The woman by the desk had looked just like her, so it had to be…the dream said that she would have to leave, but then come back in a different way, so it had to be her…yes, it was definitely her, no doubt about it.

Mort's thoughts had been in a twisted freeway of thoughts, caught in an endless cycle traveling from rationality, to hope, and back again. The woman by the receptionist desk looked exactly like the woman from his dreams, so it had to be her! Right? Despite the fact that she wasn't surrounded by light, and there wasn't a wind blowing her hair around, turning it into a beautiful glowing red mist around her head, the woman who had watched him be carried down the hall was the woman from his dreams.

Signing, Mort lay back on his new bed in his new room. 'Oh, yes this room is so much better than the one I used to have,' he thought sarcastically.

It was basically the same as its predecessor. Except for the window overlooking the back of the hospital and the woods that spread out behind the rear yard, everything else was in pretty much the exact same place, despite the fact that this was the isolation wing…the only other different thing was that security was much more intensified here than in the normal ward.

'At least I got my writings before they grabbed me,' he thought, thoroughly relieved. He'd barely had time to stuff them in his shirt and in his shoes before the orderlies had entered the room.

Flashback:

Frantically writing about his final night together with her, Mort heard giggling from the doorway of his room. Turning around, he spotted Jamie, one of the patients with the mind of a child. She was currently pointing and laughing at him like she always did, but her laughter seemed particularly cheerful today.

"What is it, Jamie?" Mort asked, exasperated with the woman's constant taunting.

"Mort's getting moved, Mort's getting moved," she sang, twirling around, her light brown hair flying around her as she danced. "They're coming for you, Mort-Mort. Have fun being in the Lonely Wing!" She winked a green eye at him and was gone.

"Moved?" he whispered. They wouldn't move him to the isolation wing, would they? The footsteps coming down the hall told him otherwise.

Panicking, Mort grabbed all of his writings and thrust them into his shirt and shoes to keep the orderlies from getting their hands on them. He couldn't let them know that he'd been working behind their backs, or they'd keep him there longer…there was no way he was going to allow that to happen, not for anything in the world!

End Flashback

He really had to count himself lucky that they didn't grab his actual body and search for anything when they came for him, otherwise he would never again see his work (or be able to work) while he was here, ever. It was worth the risk, though; preserving his memories of his dreams was worth being here. The upside was that while he was here, he would be left alone and not required to interact with other patients.

'But will I be allowed to see the receptionist who is the embodiment of her?' he asked.

Of course he would…he'd only tried to harm himself, not anyone else. There was really no reason for them to forbid him going outside his room; after all, he needed sunshine and fresh air as much as the next person.

'They'll probably but someone on guard to watch and follow me,' he thought, turning his attention back towards his work. It didn't matter, though, as long as he was near the lovely woman in the entryway…as long as he was near her, life would be good.


The Next Morning, Kayla's POV:

'Another day, another dollar,' Kayla thought as she entered the reception area. 'I mean, who knew that being a receptionist at a mental institution could be so boring?'

Despite what she'd expected, working here was pretty tame. Holly had told her that most of the patients here were non-violent and/or had the brain competence of a potato, but she'd expected something to happen once and a while. Nothing violent or tragic, though…that would be just wrong, especially if someone got hurt just because she wanted something exciting or unusual to happen.

'Yeah, like that Rainey episode wasn't exciting enough,' she thought to herself.

That was true; having a mentally disturbed author who thought you were the girl of his dreams was freaky enough for her. If he started to stalk her or something, she just might freak out and run out of here, screaming.

'Okay, forget exciting and interesting…I prefer dull and secure any day!'

Enough said about that.


Same Morning: Mort's POV:

"Alright, Mr. Rainey, since you've been considered suicidal, we're putting you under constant surveillance," Frank told him from the doorway. "You're allowed to write if you want, but one of us is going to be standing here while you do, and we're going to take your writing utensils and papers away at night to make sure that you don't hurt yourself when you're alone."

Mort grunted in reply. He really didn't care about writing now; all he wanted was to see the beautiful woman in the lobby.

"And you'll be allowed to walk around the hospital under close supervision, is that understood?"

Mort's head jerked up in interest. "I can go out and walk around?" he asked, amazed that they were giving him that opportunity.

"Under supervision," Frank stressed. "So you don't hurt anyone or yourself."

"Can I go take a walk right now?" Mort asked, turning eager eyes towards the orderly.

Frank raised an eyebrow, but nodded his approval. As Mort stood up and walked out of the room, the tall and imposing orderly followed close behind to keep his eye on him. It didn't bother him, though…as long as he was able to watch her without drawing attention from anyone, it was enough for him. The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized that he'd have to do something later to catch her attention when no one else was looking. Oh, well, he'd figure out the details later.

Feeling unusually perky, Mort led the way to the Sun Room so that he'd have an excellent view of the receptionist desk.


That Afternoon, Kayla's POV:

From the moment that Mort Rainey had sat down by the lobby windows, a weird feeling of being watched had settled in her mind. But every time she looked over her shoulder, he was looking out the window or scribbling something on a piece of paper in front of him. Okay, he was an author and was supposed to be just a little bit mentally off, but it had been happening all morning and since she came back from lunch. By now, Kayla was beginning to think that she was feeling a bit paranoid.

Leaning back in her chair, she rubbed her tired eyes and saw letters and numbers fly by under her closed eyelids. It's never really a good thing to see letters when you close your eyes, and that usually means one thing to a person who'd been looking at them all day long.

'I think I need a break,' she thought, closing a folder and putting it on the desk.

Reaching down, she pulled the little refrigerator open and took out a Dr. Pepper to go with her bag of Doritos. Hearing a small bit of commotion, she looked up and spotted Frank trying to calm down a patient, even though he was supposed to keep an eye on Mr. Rainey. Looking towards the author, she saw that he hadn't moved. Shrugging, she turned around and opened her chips.

Her first chip was an inch from her mouth when she spotted something lying by the sliding window at the front of the desk. Setting down her chips, Kayla scooted her roller-chair over and peeked around, trying to see if any of the patients were trying to pull something on her, but no one was there. Frank had managed to escort the noisy patient out of the area, and Mr. Rainey hadn't moved an inch from his spot, so it couldn't have been him.

Shrugging again, Kayla took a closer look at the object. It was a red rose from the gardens outside the hospital. There were rose vines and bushes scattered all around the grounds, but there was only one place where this color of rose grew, and that was right outside the windows of the lobby. Right by where Mr. Rainey was sitting. Now thoroughly creeped out, Kayla looked towards the author. He was looking out the window, but a second after her eyes landed on him, he turned his gaze towards her. Swallowing hard, she turned away, her eyes landing on the rose. It was such a beautiful and fragile-looking thing.

'It would be a shame for it to simply lie where a patient could get it,' she thought, gazing at the perfect petals. She so loved flowers, but roses were her favorite, and she couldn't let a person destroy such a lovely thing.

The problem was that she'd have to open the window in order to reach it. Did she really want to risk it? What if there was a patient out there hiding under the window, just out of sight? What if they tried to hurt her? Could there be more than one patient behind this little prank, and if so, should she call security for help?

'Okay, now you are being paranoid,' Kayla scolded herself. 'Just open the damn window and get it.'

Nodding to herself, she reached over and slid the window open. Her fingers had just brushed the stem when a firm hand grabbed her wrist. Letting out a small yelp of surprise, she tried to pull her hand back in, but the stranger would not let go. Glancing up, she saw the brown gaze of Alex gazing back at her.

"Uh," she said, speechless at the surprising turn of the situation.

"You really shouldn't reach outside the plastic unless you're sure it's safe," Alex whispered to her, winking. "Especially when strange gifts are left for you unexpectedly."

Kayla blushed. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Guess it was kind of stupid of me."

Alex gave her hand a small squeeze. "Just try not to do it again," he whispered back, giving her a flirtatious smile as he let her hand go. "By the way, the flower's from me."

Without another word, he turned and walked down the hallway, leaving a shocked Kayla staring after him, the red rose lying forgotten in her palm.


That Evening, Mort's POV:

Sitting in his room, Mort stared at the ceiling, silently fuming. That afternoon, as he watched his beautiful angel work behind a wall of plastic, not noticing him as he drew portraits of her on paper given to him by the nurses. It had been awkward having Frank close by as he drew, watching him over his shoulder, but Mort refused to let that bother him…he had more important things to do, like commit every detail about her to memory.

Once he had completed his drawing to his satisfaction, Mort began to write out every single detail that he could fathom from around him. From the sign on the front desk, he knew her name was Kayla (such a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman), and she liked to eat her fries after finishing her hamburger (he'd overheard her tell Nurse Holly that today). She also liked Doritos, which means she had good taste in junk food, in his mind. She also had a sweet smile that made him feel happy…

Then, it happened. That afternoon, after the three o'clock medication, someone had tried to take his angel away from him! Mort had barely managed to keep himself from attacking the orderly who had tried to take his Kayla away from him. He had seen the whole thing from across the room: the orderly leaving the beautiful red rose on the desk so she could find it, the small chat they'd had, and the fact that she had allowed him to hold her hand. It had made Mort's blood start to boil.

'I won't let him have her,' he vowed to himself. 'No one can have her except me!'

Still, the orderly (who's name was Alex, if he recalled) was a very handsome young man, and while Mort considered himself fairly good-looking, he was far from young. Judging from the look of his angel, she was probably in her late teens or early twenties…twenty-one at the most. She was barely a legal adult!

'She still belongs to me,' he thought, his blood flowing hot through his veins. 'We've been connected for months, and she's only just met Alex. I'm going to have to show her how strong our bond is."

Smiling as a plan formed in his head, Mort let his mind drift until he fell into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.


That Same Evening: Kayla's POV:

Spiting the last bit of toothpaste from her mouth, Kayla quickly rinsed, flossed, and rinsed again, her mind twirling in confusion over the events of the day. Alex has been unusually attentive the rest of the day, and she wondered what a guy like him could see in a girl like her. Sure, red hair and brown eyes were a nice, if not quaint, combination, but she knew she was far from a beauty queen. So what would a drop-dead gorgeous guy like Alex see in her?

'I swear if I ask him and he tells me it's because I'm a sweet girl, I'll slap him,' she thought, rolling her eyes.

Throughout her entire life Kayla had been told she was a sweet and understanding girl, and every time someone told her that, she got more and more pissed off. Mostly she figured that people only said that because those were the only good qualities that she had. After all, she wasn't exactly beautiful (maybe pretty, but that was it), she wasn't brilliantly smart, and she didn't have any unique talents except writing. In other words, what would a guy see in her except that she was nice to people, and had a good sense of humor that sometimes made people feel comfortable around her?

"Not a whole lot," she muttered as she headed to her comfy bed and slipped under the navy-blue sheets to stare at the ceiling. "God I hate being a boring person!"

Still, she'd better get to the bottom of this Alex-likes-me-but-I-don't-know-why thing, ASAP. Kayla had been asked out before, and had thought that the guy might actually be interested in her. He had asked her to the Homecoming Dance, she'd said yes, and after that one night, he was gone…right into the arms of a good friend of hers. It had been a very depressing time for Kayla, but in the end she'd felt happy for the two…they really had belonged together and were now married with kids. After all, you can't fight Fate, now, can you?

'I just wish I'd been asked out on a date more than once in my entire life.'

Sighing, Kayla let her eyes drift shut and peaceful dreams fill her mind.

Dream Sequence: Mort's POV:

A fine mist filled the air as Mort found himself walking down the hallway, his eyes searching for any other person to ask them why the hospital was so empty and so quiet…and so dark. He was alone, and for once in his life since his divorce, he didn't like it. When would he be able to finally find the one who would be there for him?

'Soon, Mort…it will happen soon…' whispered a soft feminine voice.

He whirled around. "But I want her now!" he cried.

Silence.

"I need her now," he whispered. "I need her…"

Back in his room, a faint whisper filled the isolation chamber in which he lay dreaming.

"I need her…"

AN: Aw, a sad ending to this chapter…it just makes you want to hug poor Mort and comfort him, doesn't it? Don't worry, Mort and Kayla will talk to each other soon…just give me some time, and it'll happen, I promise. Now be good readers and review to make me write faster! (wink, wink)