Distorted & Disordered

Chapter 23

**Trigger Warning**: Feels, suicidality aftermath

He was dreaming about Swiss cheese and cinnamon buns-as strange as that was-when a gentle knock came resounding off his door. For a moment he was confused as to where he was and his grip tightened on the peach blankets before it all came back to him. He was in the hospital, about to be transferred to his first ever psychiatric stay.

He swallowed reflexively.

Would he be okay there?

Would they truly be able to help him?

Was there no other way out of this situation?

Another light tap came again and someone was saying, "Loki, your chariot awaits."

He couldn't help but let out a childlike giggle, brows rising up as he looked over the blankets and met blue eyes, eyes that almost seemed familiar, to a woman in uniform.

She held onto another stretcher piled with blankets and straps; there was another man in uniform at the head of it.

"Loki Odinson, correct?" The brown haired man asked, his hazel eyes appearing comforting.

"Yes," Loki answered, sitting up with a small amount of effort.

They undid his saline drip and talked him through what was happening.

"My name's James," the man said and then pointed to his partner, "That's Carol. We're here to take you to Twin Rivers. Are you ready to go?"

Loki nodded, teal scrubs hanging as he scurried with his brown, hospital supplied socks towards the other stretcher. He still held onto the peach blanket and Carol said, "You can bring that along with you if you'd like. Do you need to use the restroom before we go?"

Loki blushed slightly.

"Yes, that'd probably help, right?" He shimmied to the odd bathroom and relieved himself. He avoided the mirror and climbed, with some aid, onto the waiting carriage.

Carol lightly placed his peach blanket over him then, upon his request, added another.

"Sorry buddy," James began, one hand raising a black strap. "But we've got to strap you in." James hair tossed back and forth as he and Carol moved the straps. "This one goes over your legs." He said as the black material clicked into place. "This one at your torso." He paused then raised another, "And this last one over your head." He mentioned, bringing it down and ending the moment with a soft snap.

"Th-That's a lot of straps," Loki muttered meekly, feeling smaller than he had in a long time.

Carol nodded, tossing him a comforting glance.

"It's just for you to be secure and stay in one place." She looked over his shoulder. "Did he have any belongings with him?"

Nurse Stocky hurried over, the plastic baggie with his civilian clothes inside and replied, "Just these."

Carol loaded them onto the bottom of the stretcher then nodded to James.

"Rolling out!" James exclaimed, tossing a wave back behind him. "See you later, Bill!"

"See you!"

James tapped on the doors for them to open and they all rolled out through the general ER and out the back ambulance entryway.

Loki tried not to mind the pairs of eyes that witnessed his departure-mostly sad eyes or indifferent eyes, sets of eyes that wanted to ponder what was wrong with him so as to distract themselves from their own issues. He met a few of their stares but mostly looked to the floor to avoid the judgment he sensed would be there waiting for him.

As soon as the sliding doors opened up and the cold November air struck Loki in the face, the only part of him exposed to the elements, he shivered and his teeth chattered as the reality of his situation dawned upon him.

He was going to his first ever psychiatric hospitalization. He had no idea what it would look like, what it would entail, who he would meet, how he would eat, and who he would get along with, if anyone. The unknown was so dark and overpowering that he felt, for a moment, breathless. What was he genuinely getting himself into? And was Twin Rivers even a "good" psychiatric hospital? What if he landed amongst a bunch of people out of their skulls? At least, wasn't that the premise of the entire institution (he smelt the stench of stigma more on his own breath now than at any other time)?

He shook his head, trying to unclog the over-production of water from his mind's sink when he could just make out the presence of sleet before the back end of a small transport ambulance-lit up with white and green-took up the visual field before him. James was lurching the doors open one by one and then stepping back into the vehicle, arms outstretched for the bed Loki was lying in as Carol helped him click the cushioned chair into place with its awaiting parts.

"You got this?" He asked Carol and she returned his gesture with a smirk.

"Always," she said as she plopped down on a cushioned seat by Loki's head. James clambered out the back, tapping on the doors when he closed them again and headed to the driver's side of the ambulance.

"I just have to ask you a few questions, okay?" Carol said to Loki, clicking a button to turn on the heat in the cabin.

James was confirming the address at the front and Carol gave her two cents, before she opened up a document on a digital pad and was directing towards Loki, "What brought you in today?"

Loki watched as she fiddled around with the piece of outlandish technology before quietly murmuring, "I tried to … kill myself."

Carol's face shone with a look of sympathy.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Loki." She said with such a sense of sincerity that Loki truly felt she meant it. It was such a refreshing sight to see empathy and compassion from humanity than the jibes and unfriendly mannerisms he had grown so used to throughout his childhood.

"Are you taking any medications?" She asked next, and it was hearing her voice again that ripped Loki from his reverie.

"No," he stated just as softly as before.

After a pause, he added, "But maybe I should be."

Carol nodded, her face lightly aglow from the screen until she looked up into Loki's green orbs. "Medications can be really effective for some people. I'm sure that the hospital you're going to will help take care of that with you, if that's something you're looking for." She scrunched up her nose in thought, the warm hues of her skin wrinkling. "I've only ever dropped off patients at Twin Rivers but I've heard good things about it anyways. Have you ever been hospitalized before?"

Loki shook his head, a glimmer of hope returning to his soul.

Maybe Carol would have some of the answers for him.

"Yeah, I mean the typical stay is about a week as far as I'm aware, but it can be longer or shorter depending on an individual's case. It's located in a good neighborhood and I have a friend who works on one of the units… I think," Carol hummed to herself, "I think she's said that the groups are pretty helpful there and the food isn't all that bad!" She laughed, but instantly noticed that Loki had bristled at her comment.

She frowned, sadly.

"Depression's not the only thing you're struggling with, I imagine?" Her eyes softened as she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. Although, I probably should have," Carol shook the device in her hand, "It's in the charts too, I think." She fumbled over her words, trying to correct herself, to which Loki watched in silent bemusement.

"It's okay," Loki assured, looking down at the prominence of his pale knuckles. "I don't think anyone knows what someone else is going through… Not, not by looking at them."

Carol's head tilted as the teenager spoke.

"No, I suppose they don't."

Loki sighed in trepidation.

"Besides, I haven't been properly diagnosed with anything yet." He was too busy looking down to see the confusion in Carol's facial features as she eyed the device in her palm inquisitively, before she shrugged a shoulder and went with Loki's train of thought.

"I think there can be commonalities among diagnoses, that the symptoms can overlap at one time or another and that while we cannot understand true intention, true thoughts and emotions by merely looking at another individual, there can still be signs that something else is going on. Did you present with any signs before your attempt?" Carol asked lovingly, and Loki didn't seem to completely mind the light prodding.

"…" He thought a moment, then let out a long exhale. "Yes, I did."

"Most suicidal people give definite warning signs of their suicidal intentions but those in close contact are often unaware of the significance of these warnings or are unsure on what to do about it. I mean, you still would have needed help regardless if the attempt had happened or not." Carol blushed, fearing she was babbling and hoping what she was saying was helping in any manner at all. She had the least amount of experience with her psychiatric patients, yet she felt empathetic towards them all the same and would try to learn about parts of their stories from either the hospital setting, the ER or the ambulance ride. She could understand that so many people struggled with something in life, at some point if not a lot of the time. Hell, her job exposed her to death, trauma, injury and harm every day she went on shift. She could understand from the veteran paramedics the toll that these lives lost and attempted to save can weigh heavily upon their shoulders. A lot of them don't seek help either…

"You know, you're not alone in your thoughts. I've known quite a few EMT's who've struggled with PTSD after working in this field for over fifteen to twenty years. It's a traumatic profession and I've seen them ignore their mental health because of what some moron down the street will think ill of them for it. But it's really a sign of immense strength to get help. Being vulnerable like that to get help is such, such strength. I really hope you feel better soon." Carol looked patiently upon Loki with so much care in her eyes that it made him feel something inside himself that he hadn't in a long time-a feeling of being heard and understood and … was it validation? He hadn't had that in such a long time, and for a moment Carol reminded him of mother, and then in the next he was saying in a hoarse voice, "I-I think I have an eating disorder." His voice cracked on the diagnosis and he felt a little guilty for self-diagnosing in the moment but Carol met his gaze with such warmth and acceptance that it overwhelmed him just a little.

She noticed the way it took a toll on him to say those words, so instead she said, "How does it feel to say that?"

His gaze flicked away and he said slowly, "It feels…important."

"You are important." Carol reiterated and blinked thoughtfully. "What are you going to do about it?"

Loki's green eyes flitted back to hers, head tilting to the side in question, mirroring her previous mannerisms. "What do you mean?"

"So, you have this eating disorder, you have this depression, what are you going to do about them going forwards? You know now where not getting help leads you, where does getting help lead you?" Carol smiled politely back at the teen and Loki couldn't help not to mind.

His line of vision fell to the seat she was sitting on before falling further to the floor then out the window as he pondered this question.

"I…I don't know." He answered truthfully, in the end, because he really didn't know.

"Think about it," Carol encouraged, eyes aglow. "Because I bet that answer is going to be important for your story."

"I…have a story?" Loki asked, suddenly filled again with wonder and awe. He supposed he hadn't looked at his life like that before.

"We all have a story." Carol paused for a moment. "Have you heard about the significance of the semicolon?"

Loki shook his head.

"There's this thing called Project Semicolon where a person lives a life like a piece of writing, where the author could have placed a period to end their sentence, they instead place a semicolon. The semicolon acts in a way to continue telling the story, continuing it forwards until it naturally comes to a close." Carol's gaze deepened as she looked upon Loki, her fingers itching to comfort but her professionalism knowing she couldn't. "Your life and how you live it is your story. You have the ability to choose what chapters you're working with, where to place your commas and semicolons and where to bring the book forwards in life." She looked down sheepishly. "I have to believe we have a purpose here on this big ole planet. Some people are not meant to go before their time. Maybe this wasn't your time, either."

The ambulance hit a pothole and the cabin shook a little but the tails of inspiration and art ventured into the avenues and lines of Loki's cerebellum as his fingers ached to spark to life and draw, something he hadn't been inspired or interested in doing in months.

Both Carol and Loki fell into a companionable silence after she had emphasized the project to him and Loki could feel the gears in his head turning as he wondered if mother knew about it and what efforts could come to their family surrounding mental health awareness and suicide prevention. Maybe, maybe Loki could be a pivotal character in this play, more than he had ever realized before. Maybe he could gather the courage within himself to go around and tell his story in the hopes that someone else wouldn't have to go through the hell he was deeply entrenched in. It gave him a sense of honor and privilege to do this, even if for right now it was only in his mind.

For now, he had to focus on the present moment-because he wasn't there yet. He wasn't out of the woods yet and he needed to be as well and healthy as possible before he could ever begin to help another person. So he listened to the music from the radio at the front of the ambulance, and he noticed the physical sensations in his body of his uncertainty and anxiety and he watched the fading trees out of the back's tinted windows and he tried, he really tried, to just relax and be there and be okay.

He wasn't really okay, not by a long shot, but by the time the ambulance had stopped moving and Carol was about to clamber out the back because somehow, at some point, they had managed to make it to his final destination (at least, he hoped it wasn't final) that he said with a stronger cadence to his voice, "Thank you, Carol."

Carol shifted her eyes to Loki as she smiled. "You're welcome, Loki. You think about that answer now, okay? It'll help." She nodded in encouragement. "Ready to go?"

He didn't feel like he was but he nodded anyways, maybe this was what it meant to face some of your fears. He could feel the rivaling anxiety and…dare he say excitement plow through his system.

Maybe this was where his semicolon appeared-not at the end but at the beginning.

He took a deep breath as he was pulled out from the ambulance, set his green eyes onto the building before him and disappeared inside.

A/N: So, hi again! Sorry it's been forever! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and there will be plenty more to come, buahaha. I can't wait for you guys to get inside of Twin Rivers and for me to describe it more in-depth, but I thought this chapter could end here and end well. So, Project Semicolon IS a real thing and you can look it up on Google to learn more if you'd like!

Additionally, yes, Carol is a sneaky reference to our beloved Captain Marvel (wasn't originally but I swept that way in the end) and the statement about suicidal warning signs is from this informational part of a song I love and listen to a lot called "Try Again" by Seein. It's a pretty nice rap about suicide prevention, in case you're interested in that, too!

But yeah, I've been itching to write for a while but life got busy. Overall though I'm doing really well and I'm happy to be writing again, for this story and others behind the scenes as well as blogging and working for 3 different jobs, phew!

Any who, I'm about to print this out so I can edit it the day I'll hopefully publish this. Hope you guys have/had a lovely holiday season! Let me know in a comment what you'd like to see next or any details of things you'd like to see described in the upcoming chapters. And of course, Frigga will return too, dun dun duunnnn. Soon, my peeps, soon.

Thank you so much for reading, reviewing (please, please do!), faving and the like! I appreciate you guys so much!

Stay safe! xxx

Songs: Hold On by Chord Overstreet & Try Again by Seein & Brighter Than the Sun by Colbie Caillat

Written: 7.15, 12.1.2019

E: 12.1, 12.2.2019

PS: Sorry this is getting out a week later! I got very busy and had a tough week, still tough today but I'm hoping the days ahead will ease and I can feel better again soon. Here's hoping for sure! I'd like to get a few other things finished in my life during that time and I think writing will be a (small) part of that. No promises though, but I do have chapters in the works. Hope you guys are doing okay, too! xxx *hugs*

I forget what, if anything, I had to update in this chapter but in case there's something different, it was done 4/16/20.