Johnathan's head span as he awoke. He groaned and rolled over.
"Johnathan! Are you ok?" Sock asked quietly kneeling in front of a bed that was not his own. As soon as Johnathan noticed this his sat up strait wincing at the needles of pain inside his head.
The room he and the little demon were in was white like the rest of the hospital. It was spacious enough so that you did not feel claustrophobic but still made you feel constricted by the fact that it was windowless. It was furnished, but not enough to make it seem normal. There was the bed he was currently sitting on and a carved drawer next to that but that was all. Cameras dotted the corners of the ceiling making Johnathan feel like he was being watched.
"The doctors dragged you in here when you passed out." Sock added rather unhelpfully when it seemed Johnathan had gotten somewhat used to his surroundings.
A buzzing noise went off before Johnathan could do anything to reply, and a doctor walked in.
She walked up to Johnathan and handed him a small paper cup with a pill in it.
"You should take this, it will make you better." Johnathan paused for a moment before taking the cup and knocking it back. She said in about ten minutes she would be back to bring him to a therapy session, turned and walked out the door.
The moment she was out of sight Johnathan spat out the pill and tossed it onto the floor.
Sock exhaled and smiled weakly up at Johnathan, "For a moment there I thought you were actually going to take that." at this Johnathan shook his head as to say 'no I wasn't going to take that willingly in a million years.'
As promised the doctor came back and told Johnathan to follow her, which he did. The corridors they went along were white and bland except for the doors and the occasional motivation cat poster (seriously why would anyone want those?). They finally came to a door with a metallic plate screwed onto it;
"single therapy room" Sock read allowed making Johnathan jump slightly (he hadn't realized Sock had followed them) luckily the doctor didn't notice him flinch and instead she motioned for Johnathan to go inside.
The room behind the door was more furnished than the room he had awoke in, there was a table and chairs, mirrors on the wall and a lamp placed on another side table in the corner that lit up the room with a soothing mellow light. Sitting at one end of the main table was an oldish man of which Johnathan guessed was probably in his forties or fifties and probably this places shrink.
The mans round rimmed glasses glinted as he looked up from a file and a notepad to address Johnathan that had stepped inside his office.
"Johnathan, I presume." He said, his accent sounded slightly Irish. He stuck his hand out for the blond to shake.
"Year." Johnathan replied flatly, blatantly ignoring the others handshake.
The man took the hand he was holding out and used it to gesture to a seat directly opposite him. This time Johnathan listened ;and took his place sitting down on the seat giving the man opposite his edgy glares.
"Do you know why you are here, Mr Combs?" The man asked politely folding his hands under his chin with his arms pointing upwards.
Sock gave him a full on glare and folded his arms. That was the same line Mephistopheles has said to him when he had first arrived hell.
"No." Johnathan said blandly.
"Your mother requested your recovery here. Obviously we cannot just take on patients without evidence but we do have evidence that your mental state is not at its best. As such we are here to help you." He continued after a small pause, "My name is Dr McQuail and I am to be your psychiatrist for as long as you are here."
"Well that wont be very long," Johnathan said with a smirk, "Since there is nothing wrong with me."
"Denial is one of the main signs that show you in fact do: I believe we have are work cut out for each other, don't you agree Johnathan?"