Superbad
"So Damon how was your first night?"
"Well, Doc, why don't you tell me?" Damon immediately replied, rhetorically. "My bed is like a slab of concrete, the blanket I slept with already gave me a rash, and I was awoken in the middle of the night by my 'dorm mate' who cries in his sleep."
Matt was worried by what Damon said, primarily about his roommate. He noted that down, determined to talk about it in his appointment with Enzo. Looking back at, he saw Damon was glaring at him with his piercing blue eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that. I can replace the blanket if you'd like, or maybe if you want something from home…?"
"Forget the blanket, can you replace my roommate?" Damon snarked back, a sneer distorting his lips.
Matt frowned. "Damon, why do you dislike Enzo so much?"
Damon let out a harsh laugh, and stared at Matt, incredulous. "Because he's a a sour, rude, and generally unlikable person who kept me up at night because he started sobbing at the top of his lungs." Leaning forward, he raised his eyebrows. "I don't like it when my beauty sleep is interrupted."
"Don't you think you're being a bit unsympathetic towards how Enzo feels?" Matt proposed, soon elaborating more as Damon stared at him blankly. "Enzo clearly has some trauma that causes him to do what he does when he sleeps. Do you not feel pity towards him, despite your dislike for him?"
"Nope." Damon replied, popping the 'p'.
Matt sighed slightly, knowing that Damon was going to be a hard nut to crack. "Okay then, enough about Enzo, we're here to talk about you."
Damon nodded. "That we are, Doc. Glad you finally realized. What do you want to know?"
Matt shrugged. "Anything, start with anything."
"Ah, okay well then since you say that." Damon leaned back in his seat, relaxed, and stretched out his legs. "So, you know, I'm here for some sort of 'selfish syndrome', or whatever- apparently I'm more vain than other people, right?"
"Um," Matt hesitated, unsure of where Damon was going, "not necessarily, but go on."
"Well that's what the brothers lovely friend, Lexi, told me when she sent me here…" He trailed off, grimacing. "Anyway, so that's meant to be why I'm here, and insomnia is why Stefan is here. But the thing is, that I'm not getting any sleep-"
"-It's only been one day-"
"-And Stefan spends thirty minutes every morning with straightening irons, three different combs, and two types of hair gel to accomplish the perfect oomph that his hair achieves. That seems pretty vain to me, so Doc, I think I've been misdiagnosed." Damon smirked, and leaned back in his seat. Matt could tell that Damon wasn't being serious, and was probably trying to get on his nerves, but beneath all the joking, he could see a more deep-seated issue.
"You know, I've noticed one thing about you Damon." Matt started.
Damon perked up his eyebrows. "And what is that, Doc?"
"Although we have only spoken with each other twice, it seems that every time someone asks more about yourself, you change the subject to talk about your brother Stefan." Matt was interested to see an instant reaction from Damon, as the smirk slid off his face, and his body posture immediately became defensive.
Damon pursed his lips. "Yeah, well, it's not my fault that his hair is so distracting."
Matt sat up, and peered at Damon, trying to decipher his expression. "It's not only that though, Damon, you seem to compare yourself to him at any chance you get and-"
"-You know what, I'm getting pretty tired of this interrogation, and what you're implying." Damon sneered loudly, interrupting Matt's analysis.
"And what do you think I'm 'implying'?"
Damon scoffed. "That I'm some insecure, delicate little flower that can't live up, or more like, live down, to his younger, and greater brother."
"Not so much in those words…" Matt trailed off, and Damon was surprisingly silent. "What do you think?"
"It doesn't matter, this line of questioning is stupid." He replied lamely. "But you know what, Doc, I figured something else out." At this, Damon appeared more eager to talk.
Although he was disappointed that Damon was unwilling to talk more about how he views himself in relation to Stefan (that would definitely take some time), Matt raised his eyebrows in interest, readying his pen to take notes about what Damon had 'figured out'. Damon was definitely resistant to getting help, or even talking about anything serious, so the fact there was something he actually asserted himself to talk about was encouraging.
Waiting for a good thirty seconds, Matt looked up to see that Damon was just staring at him blankly.
"Go ahead."
"So you're not actually a doctor, are you?"
Well that was the exact opposite of what Matt hoped for. Feeling a nervous blush creep up his neck, he shifted in his seat, wondering how the hell he figured it out so quickly. "Well, no but-"
"-How am I supposed to trust that you won't publish a book on anything I say here, or go tell all your little not-doctor friends?" Damon exclaimed, eyeing him indignantly, his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed angrily.
Matt swallowed, feeling slightly intimidated by Damon's aggressive way of speaking. "Not that I actually want to, but I can't physically talk about anything any of you say in this room. You're protected by doctor patient confidentiality-"
"-But you're not a doctor."
"Okay," Matt shot back, irritably, "well then, therapist-patient confidentiality. I have a contract that says so."
Damon pondered this for a moment, and whilst Matt himself pondered why he ever decided to 'learn on the job practically' (which he wasn't even sure was legal), rather than actually get a proper doctors degree. "What if I want a therapist who's actually qualified?"
Matt felt his stomach drop, and the rate of him staying employed started rapidly decreasing by the second, because it definitely wasn't a good thing that the first patient he talked to wanted to change therapist. "Well," He gulped, "if that's what you really want, then-"
But Damon burst out laughing, and Matt stopped in his sentence, slightly disturbed at Damon's sudden change of composure. He went from snarling and glaring, to cracking up and snorting. As the seconds ticked by the tens, and Damon hadn't stopped laughing, Matt found his voice.
"Um, Damon…"
"So- Sor- Sorry. It's just the look on your face when I said that, I swear you were about to wet yourself you were so scared." Damon shrieked, continuing on laughing.
Feeling slightly insulted at the insinuation, Matt cross his arms defensively. "Damon, I need to know if you want to change therapist." He started, seriously, annoyed that his first attempts at actually helping someone ended up in his being laughed at, which certainly wasn't learning on the job.
"Nah, I'd don't want to change therapist, you're just too funny to leave." Damon breathed back, wiping away tears. "Anyway, I seriously doubt any other therapist will let me mock them like I do you."
Matt frowned. "Now, wait a minute Damon, you really shouldn't-"
"-You know what. I do have something serious to ask you though." Damon interrupted, his face now thoughtful, and his eyes concentrated on Matt. He looked concerned, and Matt dropped his attempts at scolding him, and leaned forward.
"What is it, Damon?"
Hesitating, Damon opened, and shut his mouth a few times, seemingly unable to find the words, and Matt softened his eyes, hopeful that Damon was going to come out with something profound and genuine. "But if you're not a doctor…" He trailed off, he rubbed a hand over his face, and looked away from Matt, his eyes lost. "Then…"
He paused dramatically.
"What am I supposed to call you?"
Matt was just about ready to through his useless clipboard across the room and quit his job.
"I mean," Damon leaned back casually, now eyeing Matt, who had already given up on the session, curiously, "I can't call you Doc, because you're not really a doctor… What is your real name anyway?"
"Matt."
"Matt." Damon scowled. "Is that short for something? Mateo, Matthias, Matas, Matey…"
"Matthew. Matthew Donovan." Matt replied through gritted teeth, as Damon started to list the literally most obscure names Matt could be short for. "Listen, Damon, I think that you're tired, and we're not making a lot of progress here just yet. I can try and arrange for you to change roommates, but other than that, you can leave now."
"Thanks, Matthew." Smirking triumphantly, he stood, and started towards the door. Before Matt could even begin to think about how he was going to get through to him, Damon turned back. "Oh, and listen, changing roommates won't be necessary."
Matt was about to sigh in relief over having one less thing to do that day, before Damon continued.
"It's nice to have an excuse other than annoying the hell out of you to leave these things early."
Later that day, Matt joined a meditation group.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"What are you up to?"
Bonnie jerked her eyes up from her book, to find the one and only Kai, the 'sociopath', standing above her, staring, his eyes were such as mixture of different colors and tones, that it almost fascinated her. A dark blue like the depths of the ocean washed around the rim of his iris, framing the pastel blue feathery strands that streamed out around his pupil, which was like an endless black hole of darkness within the rich jewel colored sea of his eye.
"I know, my eyes are beautiful, I get told all the time." He plopped down beside her casually. "You should see my twin sister Jo's eyes though, now they are eyes like a blue sky."
She cleared her throat. "Um, I'm reading 'The Great Gatsby'." Answering his first question awkwardly. There was something about him that made her uneasy, but she didn't want to be rude, and tried to be nice to him, as she didn't really know him well enough from just one interaction to judge him.
"You know, I've always had a burning, passionate hate for that book. It's absolute garbage." He blurted out rudely. "That could be because I read it during my angsty teenage years, but I just found Jay's love for Daisy so unrealistic. That kind of shit doesn't happen in real life."
Swallowing, Bonnie willed herself to stay quiet, but she couldn't help but defend her favorite book. "'Unrealistic'? 'The Great Gatsby'? Who actually cares? Yeah sure, it could be considered unrealistic considering we are reading it in the period and century we are in, but I'm sure back in the 1920's when the book was set it was the kind of thing that happened in people's lives."
Bonnie couldn't help herself. The words were just pouring out of her mouth.
"The reason it is such a good book is that it makes connections with our hearts, imaginations, dreams and desires. Despite his moral deceit of being a bootlegger and his false pretense of being someone he isn't, Gatsby inspires our feelings, in a 'transcendent sense', he touches our imagination with his optimistic idealism and passionate love. He is like a... mythological creature, something unreal." Bonnie paused, and caught her breath. "'Unrealistic'? Wow, says the guy who listed out all eight of the 'mental disorders' he had been diagnosed with by doctors." She sneered out, suddenly uncaring as to whether she was being judgmental or not, he irked her in a way that no one else had ever before. And they had only spoken to each other twice.
He however smirked. "Hey, you tell them how implausible that is. They don't call me the psychological enigma for nothing." It was as though he hadn't even registered the first statements of her rant. As though anything that wasn't about him were just redundant words.
"I think you might be giving yourself too much credit." Bonnie replied, rolling her eyes.
"Okay then, why don't you try and diagnose me." His voice was innocent. She was disconcerted at his sudden change in tone.
Bonnie snorted, nonetheless. "The only way I could diagnose you was if I was a doctor, knew your life story, and actually cared. But I obtain none of those qualifications." She paused. "Nor do I ever want to."
"You've got social anxiety, right?"
She knew she had already told him why she was there a couple of days ago. He knew, so what was his game? He was clearly playing one… Frowning, Bonnie glared at him sharply. "No. It's none of your business."
But he held up his hands in retreat. "Sorry, I just kind of assumed, you're so crass and aggressive and clearly have no idea how to act appropriately in public."
Fuming, Bonnie slammed her book shut, stood, and stormed towards the door and away from him. She wanted nothing to do with him, and he clearly wasn't going to go away by himself. However, he didn't seem to be getting the message, as he was following her closely behind.
She halted to a sudden stop. "I'm going to my room. Go away." She said stiffly, without turning around.
"Why do you want me to go away?"
His voice was dark, and sinister, vastly differing to how he had just been speaking. She swallowed thickly. Her breathing quickened. The room felt as though it was spinning. "You… You- You make me feel-"
She felt his breath on her ear. "Uncomfortable?"
Her heart was beating at a hundred a minute, her blood was pounding in her ears, her mouth went dry, and her words lost in her stomach. With every breath she took, she felt as though she was suffocating more and more, she needed to get away from him. "Nu- Nu- NURSE! Nurse, someone, help me please!" She managed to yell out, starting to run from him.
But he grabbed her wrist, jerking her backwards and pulling her close, she could feel him breathing on her face. His eyes were no longer a vast ocean or blue like she saw before, but fully black, his pupils dilated completely. His nostrils were flared with every breath he took, and his white teeth were bared as he stared her down, his grasp around her wrist like a tightening handcuff around her freedom. "You shouldn't have done that Bon." He whispered, and she started to be transported back to the day of her trauma, the day that still gave her night terrors, and still made her instinctively distrustful of anyone.
Suddenly two nurses appeared behind him and seized him by his arms, one violently stabbing him in the neck with a syringe. But nothing worked; his hand was still gripped around her wrist, tightening every second as she struggle away from him, his eyes were still plastered on hers, and even as the drug took effect and he slowly, slowly fell to the ground, his eyelids dropping down, his hands was still, wrapped around her wrist, in an iron grip.
It was only when the nurses dragged him away that she realized the scene they had made, everyone, nurses, doctors, patients, were staring at her, some in horror, pity, fear.
She was shaking. Tears dropped out of the corners of her eyes. Her wrist still burned where he had touched her. Bonnie had no idea what had just happened, what he had done and why it had scarred her so much.
"Are you alright love?"
Looking up and through blurred vision, Bonnie saw Kol was standing in front of her, watching her with what appeared to be concern. It was strange, considering the way he had already established himself in the group session, but he seemed genuine in his worry, which was... nice. But she couldn't speak because her stomach was still lodged in her throat, so she just nodded, small.
He licked his lips. "Must've given you a fright."
She nodded again, and looked away, still trying to catch her breath, and blink back tears. She knew she was being pathetic and stupid and she had probably overreacted, but the way he was acting; Bonnie had never been so scared. Not since that day her life fell apart and she changed forever.
"Bonnie!" Caroline ran up to her, her blue eyes wide and teary. "Are you okay? What did he do to you?"
Letting out a shaking breath, Bonnie willed her heart to slow down. "Nothing, he just…" She swallowed. "There's something off about him, I don't know what. He just wouldn't… Leave me alone." Bonnie noticed Kol back away behind Caroline, and return to to his brother Klaus, but not without giving her one last glance, to which she smiled.
Caroline nodded sympathetically, grabbing her attention back. "Come on, Tyler came up with the stupidly brilliant idea of having a movie marathon, and we are going to try and make our way through their massive collection of Michael Cera movies." She said, excited. "Come, we're watching Superbad, and we're just at the bit where they got the fake ID, and Fogell aka McLovin is trying to buy booze."
Reply To BonkaiLover: I'm glad that you're liking so much of what I've written so far! Thank you for your descriptive review and telling my all your thoughts about Damon, the Mikaelsons, Bonnie, Kai and Matt. I personally love Bonnie and Kai, and there'll definitely be more ahead for them. I'm honestly not sure how I'll end things in terms of relationships, but Bonnie and Kai will certainly have a particular part to play together. Your review means so much to me, more than you can know, so thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to share your thoughts with me. I hope you enjoy the rest of what is ahead! X
Reply To Alexander: Thank you for reviewing! I definitely enjoy writing the interactions between all the characters, so I'm glad you think I'm doing a good job and that you're liking them. I try to keep things as interesting and realistic as possible. I hope that you continue reading and enjoy my future chapters. X
Reply To Guest: I'm happy that you ~love~ what I've written. I've read a few stories about all the characters in an asylum, but unfortunately people never finish them. So I decided to take initiative and write one myself! I'll definitely think about your suggestion to bring Freya and Valerie into the you so much for reviewing and sharing your thoughts, it means so much to me. I hope you continue on reading and like the rest of what is ahead. X
Okay, so I think I've now got an idea on what plot I want to do. I've had this written for a while, but kept on rewriting it because I wanted to do a plot that includes everyone, instead of individual plots for characters. I'm excited I finally made my mind up, I now know what to do, and it'll start to develop next chapter!
Thank you so much to everyone who followed and favorited! Please review if you can, I'd like to hear your thoughts. Follow and/or favorite if you want to be alerted about future updates and see where this is all going. Thank you so much for reading! X
Next Chapter - Hayley is minding her own business eating the garbage they serve up and call breakfast, when an agitated Tyler joins her, and drops that he knows something about someone in their group, and it's not good. Once they've finished arguing about what they will do with the information, Tyler proceeds to tell basically everyone else in their group during recreation time, and they debate.