Chapter 9

-Another Storm Ahead-

You got Crane. Or he got you.

Jane decided that it was definitely the latter statement that applied this time; it was certain that she'd been had. Fell for the old 'hypnotic terror manipulation' gag. I'm such a sucker.

She lay in her room, absently flipping through back issues of magazines she had no interest in. Time passed surprisingly fast for her. The days had ceased to stretch themselves into infinity; this coincided with the sudden absence of her daily sedatives. Someone had decided that she'd had enough of that for the time being, but she had a hard time imagining that that someone would be Crane. Unless having her sedated made her no good to him; she wondered what would make that so. Usually, if a doctor was going to take advantage of a young female patient, having her under sedation would be an asset.

Maybe he doesn't intend to take advantage of you in that way.

That ghoulish thought was even less welcome than the one of Crane having his hands all over her as she slept; probably because the idea of him needing her for some pleasure that was not sexual, in the conventional sense, seemed far more likely. He seemed the sort not enthralled by beauty, or charm; he did have lust, though, that she knew. She'd sensed it in him the first time they'd met, as he'd questioned her about the man in the park. It wasn't exactly for her, although she was involved; it was almost as if he derived his excitement from her discomfort…or her fear.

What kind of a psychiatrist is he? What kind of a man?

"Jane."

A disembodied echo crept into her ear. Startled, she looked up, around, seeing no one at her door. She waited a minute; no footsteps from the hall, either. As her new home was in the basement, several levels below the street in fact, the possibility of someone calling from outside was nonexistent. Jane held her breath, remained absolutely stock still, and was disappointed when the sound did not repeat itself immediately. This went a long way in proving that being locked in a sanitarium would eventually drive one mad.

She let her breath out and tried to move on; ignore the voices, they'll go away. She hadn't realized how tense she'd become until she heard it again, and nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Jane! Biter, you there?"

Jane stood, scanning the ceiling for – yes, there it was. A ventilation grate, fairly huge, set in the wall very close to the top.

"Y-yes?" she called, quiet and uncertain.

Apparently, it did no good. "If you're there," the voice continued, and at this point she was pretty sure she knew who it was, "get closer to the vent and talk into it."

There were two items of furniture in her room; the bed and a chair. Jane doubted the bed would move across the floor quietly, with its steel frame that complained when she sat on it, let alone when she tried to shift its position. The chair would have to do.

It was heavier than she'd hoped. Standing on it didn't bring her close enough to speak with any confidence, either; nevertheless, she stretched out and gave another quiet call.

"Hello?" she said. "Angie?"

A laugh greeted her. "You got it, kid! See, I'm right next to you!"

Indeed, the wall she now balanced herself against did face the hallway she'd last seen Angie disappear into. "Isn't this dangerous?"

"Nah", Angie answered. "Not any more than being here is dangerous. So, listen, you seen Jon lately?"

"Jon?"

"Yeah, Jonnie – oh, you probably just call him Dr. Crane." There was a short giggle. "He's my guy. But he doesn't come to see me much now that I stole his files…"

Jane began to wonder if this conversation was going anywhere. "Okay, well…"

"See, I know about you. I snuck a peek at your file, hon."

That got her attention. "My file? What's in there?"

"I'd love to tell you, but I can't right now. I guess this way is a little dangerous. Besides, it's almost therapy time."

"For you? If Dr. Crane's not treating you, who is?"

"Dr. Jonnie Crane is treating me, sweetheart. Today he's treating all of us."

"Angie, what…?"

"Get down now. I'll see you soon!"

Jane obediently got down; stunned, she sat on the chair, wondering what had just happened. Angie had seen her file. If Crane had plans for her – surely he did – Angie likely knew them.

Then again, Angie did seem a trifle nutty. Not unusual, given the setting, but it did throw her validity into question. Treating all of us?

Jonnie Crane…she'd forgotten his first name in the tension of the last few weeks. While she pondered this, footsteps came clanging down the corridor, and she barely had time to stand before another orderly knocked. He waited only briefly before stepping in. "Come on, miss", he said. "Time for group."

Group therapy. Ah, yes; now it made sense. He was treating all of them today, and Jane would indeed see Angie soon.

She followed the big man in white; another connection to the doctor, the promise of another storm ahead. But, perhaps this time it would be different. With an ally, crazy or not, she could step close to the Crane without getting burned. She hoped, in any event.

Jane walked into a new kind of common room then, the underground kind, where many different insanities twitched and mingled; the doctor sat among them, and turned to face her approach. In those eyes of sky, she saw a storm indeed. Angie winked at his side; Jane couldn't wait to see what Jonnie had in mind.

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Hey, it's the author talking to herself again! Without giving away too much, here are some notes. Angie is a little cuckoo, but I would say that holding up one's end of a conversation does not certify one's sanity. That is to say, she's not on the same level of sanity as Jane. But not like a walking recording of gibberish, either; well, you'll see. I actually have a lot of this written or conceptualized already, but that definitely does not make comments unwelcome! I appreciate any thoughts any of you could send my way, immediate or otherwise. Keeps me on my toes, which is a good place to be. Also, I'm updating again already because I may not be able to for a few days. Don't want anyone to forget about me while I edit and such, y'know...

- nH

ps. - Y'know what else rhymes, that I didn't realize until I was well into the story? Jane + Crane. Yeah. Tell me that doesn't sound dumb in retrospect. I only hope I haven't ruined the story for you.