Guess what I'm not dead!
I've had a bit of a health crises which prevented this chapter from being updated for so many weeks. But I'm alive and my surgury is schedule so its all good from here!
I just left you all hanging and I feels so bad. I'm so sorry guys!
Only one more chapter + plus a epilogue after this (which will NOT take months to update)
~Reflections~
Surprisingly breaking someone out of a psychiatric ward was not nearly as difficult as it sounds. Of course, Clara's idea of what counted as difficult had shifted significantly of late. But still all she had to do was steal a nurse's uniform from the laundry company the hospital used then wait for someone to open the door and just walk right in.
The place really needs to update its security.
Nina stays in the car, a bundle of raw nerves. Clara tried to convince her to stay home given her condition, but she refused point blank, saying that she had to set things right. Wonderful sentiment that, except at seven months pregnant there is not much she can do besides waddle menacingly. Not much help in a jail break. Still knowing Nina's out there makes Clara feel better; at least someone has her back.
She decided to wait until after she has Oswin before even attempting to explain things to her parents. One more circular conversation about metaphysics and magic and her head is going to explode. Best to leave that for when she has the physical evidence of both of them together were no one can argue about the state of her mental health. Also Clara honestly doesn't know how to face her family yet. What do you say? 'Good afternoon, how's the last three years been? Sorry I haven't aged.' Right.
So that leaves Clara standing in the middle of a beige hallway wearing cream scrubs one size too big and wondering what she's supposed to do now. The burning scents of bleach and pledge multi-surface linger in a chocking cloud under the florescent lighting uncomfortably. Odd how the smell of sanitizer inspires fear of disease like nothing else. Coupled with the impersonal color scheme and the cheap linoleum tiles the whole building screams of miserable existence.
Shivering involuntarily Clara glances left and right down the corridor. Sure this in no electric shock dungeon of the 1930's, but she can't imagine actually living in this place. Though considering the generally vacant expressions of the few patients who wonder past her in their light blue robes, they probably have no clue where they are anyway. Must be quite liberating to live in your own head.
Clara decides to follow the direction they are moving figuring there must be some type of common area for the patients to gather. Hopefully. She keeps her head down pretending to read from a clipboard she snagged from a desk in case anyone recognizes her face. The fact that her doppelganger is a known resident is only one of the many major flaws in this plan. The rest of them could probably fill a book but she's determined to make this work. As if that makes any difference.
Reaching the end of the hall Clara slips through a pair of double doors after a woman with frizzy gray hair. It seems TV is good for something after all; there really is a patient common room. Men and women are scattered around the space, sitting in plastic chairs or painting at easels, a few simply stare vacantly out the large bay windows. A pair of nurses, sipping matching cups of coffee, sit at a table on the opposite end of the room chatting with a small group.
Careful not to attract their attention she moves quietly into the room. Scanning the surrounding faces for her own. It is a remarkably odd feeling to look for yourself in a crowd. Edging the faded green wall Clara freezes when her eyes land on one of the paintings carelessly tacked to the corkboards.
A young woman with long locks of flowing blonde hair and burning golden eyes smiles down at her unaware of how very out of place she is in this world. The painting itself isn't particularly good rather like if she had done it herself - which makes sense in a way. Despite the quality of the work the subject was unmistakable. The Bad Wolf.
"Do you like it?" asks a slightly sarcastic voice.
A shivering chill runs down her spine raising the hairs on her neck and arms. Taking a steadying breath Clara turns towards the familiar sound. It is like looking in a funhouse mirror, the features are identical but they are not backwards and reflected like she would normally see herself. Her reflection's eyes widen and her mouth falls open utterly stunned.
Electric tingles race over Clara's skin making her heart pound like a horse at full gallop. Her stomach twists horribly and her lungs seem to have forgotten what it means to breath. Every natural instinct in her body is screaming to turn and run in the opposite direction and never stop. This is wrong. This is unnatural. She shouldn't be here, shouldn't be this close to her double.
Oswin blinks dumfounded just sort of swaying in place like she might faint at any moment or bolt for the door. And gods Clara can't blame her, this is freaky as shit.
"How?" The other girl finally manages to choke out.
A hysterical laugh crawls its way up Clara's throat despite everything or more likely because of it. That's just a really big, excellent question isn't it? "It is a really long story."
Her doppelganger takes a moment to school her expression into one of totally neutrality in a way which screams royalty. Careful eyes dart about to make sure no one is watching - the only person near them in a young woman too busy talking to a stuffed rabbit to notice.
"You are Clara?" Like the other members of the court she doesn't use conjunctions.
"And you must be Oswin." Clara adds wryly. "I'm here to rescue you."
"Took you time I see."
"Yeah well, I kind of had to rescue myself first." She pauses unsure how much information to dump on the other woman within a minute of meeting her. "Your father sent me."
That gets a reaction. Shock colors her features as she looks Clara up and down as if trying to spot a lie.
"He's awake."
"W-What?" There is vulnerability there, a childlike fear, and Clara can't blame her for it. Her own time in the palace nearly drove her to insanity; she couldn't imagine what it would be like to grow up in that snake pit.
"He's awake." She repeats softly. "Your mother - She lost her control over him. He banished her, she's gone."
Oswin stares at her a moment before stumbling sideways to collapse into one of the plastic chairs. Her skin is ashen and Clara wants to comfort her or something, but she can't bring herself to move any closer. An invisible barrier seems to exist between them which she cannot cross.
"I know this is a lot, believe me." Clara says with a nervous glance over at the nurses. "But this isn't the place to discuss it; we need to get you out of here. I can explain everything later. I promise."
Oswin's gaze turns back up to her, clearly overwhelmed. She's been trapped in this world for years with no sign of hope, no anything. But after taking a steadying breath her eyes narrow in determination and she nods.
Thank god they share the same ability to compartmentalize. "Then let's blow this popsicle stand."
Frowning at the word choice Oswin asks. "Do you have a key card?"
"Better." She replies as they slip out the double doors and into the hall. "I stuck tape on the lock."
The other girl shoots her a questioning glance.
"It prevents the door form automatically relocking. We don't need a key card to leave."
"That's too simple."
"Most things are." Clara murmurs mostly to herself. There were a lot of simple solutions she could have done that would have prevented all of this from happing."
"That took long enough." Says a woman too her reflection with a wry grin.
The eyes of her reflection glow and the Bad Wolf nods. "As we knew it would."
Rose raises a delicate eyebrow at the mirror. "I must say that nursery rhyme you fed Clara was interesting. We could not have simple told her?"
"You know as well as I that the future will change by just knowing it. They would never have found each other."
The human's face sours. "A lot of other thing would never have happened either. This was not fair to her, to either of them."
The Bad Wolf smiles sadly. "Nothing is ever fair. Yet perhaps this will change things."