~AC 197, March 4th, L4 – B289, Fatimah Psychiatric Clinic, 8:06am~
Dr Hewley put another file on the pile she had already reviewed. She had arrived late last night to take her new post as Head of the Fatimah Psychiatric Clinic. She had stopped by to see the staff, headed to her new flat to have a short rest, before driving back to the clinic at five in the morning to review all the patients' files before the general meeting with the medical staff later that day.
She had always been fascinated by the colonies, those dark pieces of metals that hung above her head in the night sky. She had dreamt to go there one day. Her wish had been granted when she had decided to be a doctor. Training involved being able to take care of colony citizens whose genetic characteristics had slowly evolved. She had specialized in psychiatry, curious to know what kind of things could make a human mind go astray. She had treated her fair share of soldiers suffering from PTSD during the wars, but what she really wanted to study were New Types.
She had finished her studies with a research paper on New Types, and she was known as one of the best specialists on the subject both on Earth and in the colonies. She had encountered innumerable colony citizens who had developed those strange abilities that science couldn't explain. She had been told that several patients here were certified New Types, and that was partly why she had accepted to come.
Dr Hewley sighed as she took yet another file. Most of the New Types she had met were interned in various mental wards. It was widely accepted that human beings roughly used only ten percent of their brain capacity consciously. People with limited New Type abilities, who were rather common on the colonies, used between twenty and forty percent of it. Real New Types, who were still very rare, had been registered using up to eighty-five percent of their brain capacity, a level which was supposed to be dangerous for human consciousness and sanity. From all Dr Hewley had seen, it was true. She had met a lot of patients with limited New Type abilities, and even at that level, unless one knew how to control them, the danger for one's sanity was great. She had only met two true New Types in all her research, and both of them were too far gone in their own world. Unable to accept and control their abilities, they had gone mad and cut themselves off from the world outside.
Then, there was the fact that New Types abilities were far from being all recorded and described. The most common was telepathic abilities, with some suggestion power if the person was trained. But lately there had been records of telekynesists and even empaths. There was also the fact that most colony citizens were totally unaware of their own limited abilities, most of the time. And when they were aware of it, and not already in hospitals, they preferred hiding it to be sure they would not be used as guinea pigs in laboratories. Dr Hewley could not blame them. Some of her colleagues barely saw New Types as humans. They talkedabout them like they would talk about a new animal species. Dr Hewley was almost sure that if they ever found one that could function normally, they would want to dissect whoever it was just for the sake of science.
Dr Hewley had always reminded herself that her patients, however affected, were humans. What happened to them was mostly genetic alteration due to life in space, but that did not make them a different species. Most of her patients had been amazing people to meet. They were very intelligent, eager to learn. Most of them had an IQ high enough to shame the scientists that worked alongside her. The problem mostly came from the fact that they had not been able to shield themselves as their abilities developed.
Dr Hewley was currently working on a program designed to detect New Types abilities the soonest possible so that people could be trained to control their abilities. Hence, her eagerness to work with New Types and understand how abilities appeared, and why. But she knew this program would be met with defiance by colony citizens. How were they to know that it was not another cover for a laboratory that would exploit them? And Dr Hewley shivered when she remembered one of her colleagues saying smugly that New Types would make perfect weapons. Yes, in truth, it would be hard to convince the people that she only wanted to help. She would need powerful allies, people in the government if possible. Powerful allies she didn't have.
Well, that was not exactly true. Some of the founders of the clinic could help. The Winners, for example. The Winner heir was a close friend of Minister Darlian, who had a lot of influence on the President. Some of the Winner sisters had been elected colony representatives in more than one colony of the L4 point. WEI was the source of employment for billions of people in the colonies and around the globe. If the Winners backed her project, it could become a reality sooner than she expected.
Dr Hewley shook her head.
'I'm dreaming about my project and forgetting my work. True, this would be wonderful, but I should not forget why I came here in the first place. To help people get better. To try and heal the mind and soul. Get to work, Lizzie! People are counting on you, and you won't let them down for dreams of glory and celebrity.'
And she turned back to her files with a resolved frown on her face.
One hour later, there were only two files left. Dr Hewley lifted the first one and was startled to discover how thin it was. In fact there was only one sheet of paper in it, the form onto which doctors wrote the summary of their diagnosis and treatments.
The ID part of the form was incomplete. The only filled box was the ID number: #QRW40789. No name, no contacts. Or more exactly, it looked like the form had been filled at one point and the information had then been erased. Puzzled, Dr Hewley moved on to the diagnosis form. The psychiatrist had confirmed a severe case of depression. A diagnosis of PTSD had been noted, then crossed off, but with a question mark not far behind. The doctor in charge of the case had also wondered about a possible case of split personalities, then crossed that off too. A suicide attempt was recorded a day after the patient's arrival. Several other diagnoses had been recorded, then eliminated, so that the only sure one was the depression.
Puzzled, Dr Hewley moved on to the treatment form. Her eyes widened. Apparently, the doctor in charge had tried several sedatives and anti-depressants on his patient. All of them had been crossed off the list, with clear instructions to never be administered again due to 'very bad reactions from the patient'.
"What does that mean?" Dr Hewley muttered to herself. "If I believe what is written here… that patient is under no treatment at all! The psychiatrist tried and discarded those drugs, and he has not prescribed anything else for… a week?"
Elizabeth pushed a button on her com, calling her secretary. The young woman appeared at the door, a professional smile on her face.
"How may I help you, Dr Hewley?"
"I'm looking at the files right now, Ruby, and it seems this file is incomplete," Elizabeth said. "The name of the patient is not mentioned, nor the name of the doctor, and most of the usual forms are missing."
"I see," Ruby said, moving behind the desk to peer at the file. "Well, since you have the patient's ID number, you can enter it on the clinic's database. The rest of the file should be up there."
Ruby typed a few commands on Dr Hewley's keyboard and frowned.
"Ah? Well, apparently it's not there either, but the name of the doctor is referenced," she said. "That would be Dr Carter."
"Would you please call Dr Carter and tell him to come to my office immediately, please?"
"Certainly."
Beep Beep!
Dr Carter jumped when his beeper suddenly went off. Quatre did not move. Dr Carter looked at the displayed number and frowned.
"Shannon?"
"Yes, doctor?"
"Our new Head of clinic wishes to see me. Can you help Quatre clean up on your own? I'll be back as soon as I can."
"It's no problem at all, doctor," Shannon said with a smile. "He doesn't respond, but he's not a difficult one, you know it. And now that he knows me, he seems more comfortable around me anyway. All I will have to do is put him in the shower. It's strange, because he would never ask for anything, but once you lead him in the bathroom, he has no problem cleaning up by himself."
"I know. I suppose it's a kind of reflex… I don't know. Well, if you're sure you'll be fine…"
"We will be," Shannon said confidently. "Won't we, Quatre?"
The green-blue eyes kept on staring straight ahead, and Shannon sighed.
"I'll be back very soon, Quatre," Dr Carter said with a smile. "Shannon will stay with you. If there's any problem…"
"We'll make sure to beep you, doctor," Shannon finished. "Now go, or you're gonna be late!"
"Hello, I'm Doctor Sean Carter," Carter said as his new boss rose from her chair to greet him.
"Doctor Elizabeth Hewley," she answered with a firm handshake. "Please have a seat."
"It's about Quatre, isn't it?" Carter asked immediately.
"Who?"
"Oh, sorry, patient #QRW40789. I supposed you went through his file and discovered it was virtually empty."
"I hoped you would give me some kind of explanation, Dr Carter."
Carter sighed, but Elizabeth had the feeling it was more from relief than from annoyance.
"I'm glad you called me, to be honest. I wanted to see you about him. I have honestly no idea what to do with him."
"How about starting with his name?"
"Okay. Just remember you asked. That young man is Quatre Raberba Winner."
"Winner?! But…"
"Yes."
"How ?"
Dr Carter rubbed his forehead.
"It's kind of a strange story. I'll tell you what I know of it. Young Mr. Winner arrived here on February 13th, apparently transferred from a general hospital on one of the outer resource satellites of the L4 colony cluster."
"Apparently?"
"The specified satellite does not have a hospital. The doctor mentioned in the so-called file does not exist. And the family contact number is a fake."
"This does not make any sense, Dr Carter."
"And it's just the beginning, I'm afraid. You must have seen my diagnosis."
"Not very enlightening, if I may say so. Where is the rest of the file?"
"I did not put my observations in the archives or on the database."
"I know that. What I want to know is why."
Carter got up and went to the window.
"This is what you could call a high profile case, Dr Hewley. This young man is the CEO of the biggest existing corporation. I couldn't risk people finding medical information on him. Especially since I don't have a clear idea of what he is suffering from, and as such no idea as to how to treat him."
"Did you contact the family?"
Carter smiled ruefully.
"Quatre is… a difficult patient, in the sense that he requires constant attention. He is currently in isolation and his suite is monitored at all times. Then, there is the fact that most of the Winners have unregistered phone numbers. I didn't have enough time to look for them, and since we're low on staff, I couldn't ask anyone to do it for me. And I'm quite sure you agree that I couldn't simply call WEI to tell them their CEO was interned in our clinic."
"No, you're right," Dr Hewley admitted. "A panic and reporters at the gate are the last things I need right now. I'll put someone on this the soonest possible. Would you care to explain those strange diagnoses to me, then?"
"When he arrived, he was totally unresponsive. He still is, actually."
"How so?"
"He does not talk. If you talk to him, he will not look at you, not even signal that he is actually listening and understanding what you say. He just ignores everything that is going on around him. He is depressed, that much is obvious. A very deep depression. He tried to slit his wrists on his first night. That's one of the reasons why he was moved in isolation."
"What are the others?"
"First of all, the protection of our other patients. Quatre does not interact with them at all, but if he feels threatened, he reacts violently. He never attacked anyone on purpose, but two of our patients have ended up pretty badly hurt when they assaulted him, as well as two members of staff. Then, it's also for his own protection. It's… it's kind of a long story, Dr Hewley."
"I have time," the young woman answered. "Please sit down and explain everything as well as you can."
Dr Carter sat down again, elbows on his knees. He frowned, trying to order his thoughts.
"I'll try to give you my impressions as they came those past three weeks. But lots of things are strange in that case. There are curious blanks, facts that I am unable to explain rationally."
There was a short pause.
"He underwent a physical examination when he arrived, like every patient. It includes a body scan. I detected at least forty-three marks of old fractures, on all of his limbs. His ribs were fractured several times. It's probable he dislocated his left shoulder at one point. He's got several scars from bullet injuries, and he was stabbed once, with some kind of weapon long enough to go all the way through his body. His left lung was punctured by the blow and surgically repaired. And you know what is even stranger? Most of that trauma happened in the last two or three years."
"How is it possible?" Dr Hewley asked with wide eyes.
"I have absolutely no idea. The only time I saw wounds like these it was in an ER room in war zones or on veteran soldiers. But that's not all there is. He is very strong. Stronger than you would expect when you look at him. He broke one of the orderlies' wrists just by crushing it in his hand. His recovery time is very short. He is quite fast too, when the need arises."
"I… I don't understand…"
"Me neither, Dr Hewley. Yet, I think there is some aspect of his problem that you will be able to help me with. But first let me explain to you what I exactly did with him."
"I see you tried anti-depressants, but stopped them all. Why that, if he is depressed?"
Dr Carter smiled.
"Half of these drugs don't even affect him. The other half was either too strong, and he was catatonic enough without any help, or had nasty side effects."
"What about the sedatives? Why did you try those?"
"That's one of the other strange things. In fact of the obvious depression, Quatre doesn't sleep a lot. I'd say barely one or two hours each night. I wanted him to sleep more for his own health, it turns out it was a very bad idea. I told you Quatre doesn't talk."
"Yes?"
"Well, under sedatives, he does. Or more exactly, he screams. Because of nightmares. It was even more tiring for him, he was exhausted, because he was having what looked like horrible nightmares, but the sedatives prevented him from waking up. From what I've seen, when he sleeps naturally, he wakes himself up every time a nightmare begins, and does not go back to sleep then. I stopped the sedatives fairly quickly."
"That was probably for the best, yes. But… there's something else, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Carter sighed. "And in fact, you can't imagine how glad I was to learn you were the one sent here, Dr Hewley. I really hope you will be able to help him."
Dr Hewley raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.
"In the two days during which Quatre was in contact with other patients, he never mingled with them. In fact, he always chose a corner of the room that was isolated, and he kept to himself. He seemed to experience some pain every time someone approached him, and he passed out the first time he was led to the common room. I did some research, Dr Hewley. He was in no evident physical distress, but whenever someone got too close to him, he clutched his chest, or his head, and looked ill. Then, I found your book about New Types."
"You are trying to tell me that this young man has New Type abilities? Of which type?"
"I thought telepathic at first, but we have some telepaths here already, and their symptoms are not the same at all. They experience headaches, but not much worse. This led me to the conclusion that he was probably an empath."
"Your patient has empathic abilities?"
"No, Dr Hewley. My patient is a full-fledged empath. A real New Type."
There was a heavy silence in the office after that statement.
"Are you sure?" Dr Hewley eventually asked.
"Reasonably. His brain scan shows activity in zones that should not even be working in a conscious state. He always seems to experience some kind of pain, more so when in close physical contact with someone. I think he can't shield anyone, and his emotions are always mingled with someone else's so that it's very difficult for him to actually know which emotions are his, and which are not. That probably explains his catatonic state, and the fact that he was very uncomfortable with the other patients. They are not the most stable people. The isolation was as much for his own benefit as for the other patients' well-being. Putting some walls and physical distance between them allows him to be calmer and in less pain. But he's still like an open channel into everyone's emotions."
"That's… that's terrible! And… wait, you told me the whole file from the other hospital was a fake? What was the contact name on that file?"
"A Mrs. Winner. It could be any of his sisters or even someone just borrowing the name. As I told you, I didn't have time to look any further. And… well, that brings me to another very strange thing."
"I'm listening."
"From what I told you, I'm sure you gathered that he must have had this problem for quite some time."
"New Type abilities are basically genetic, Dr Carter, so he's probably been having this 'problem', so to speak, since he was born," Dr Hewley said.
"So you agree that he must have been interned in some kind of facility before this, right?"
"Well, of course!"
"I have not found any trace of it. I haven't found a single hospital or mental ward or even just a doctor in the known world who had this young man as a patient before. In fact, I have not found any type of medical information on him, not even a basic medical file with childhood diseases."
"That is simply impossible, Dr Carter," Elizabeth Hewley said firmly. "An untrained empath could not have functioned normally in the world without needing treatment and isolation."
"I do not have clearance to scan the great databases like the ex-OZ database, or Romefeller's files, or the Preventer files, so I could not check those, but… Dr Hewley, I have seen this young man on TV at the beginning of the year. He's supposed to be the CEO of a corporation. Yet we both agree that his mental state should not even allow him to function as a normal human being."
Dr Hewley frowned, thinking fast.
"That would mean that he had some training… that he could control his ability," she finally said. "But if that's the case, why did I never hear about it? Who could have designed such a program and kept it a secret, and why?"
"That's what I thought too," Carter said, "but I needed confirmation. I've seen him on TV countless times in the past year. He's been involved in the rebuilding of the cluster and chairman for WEI. I agree that at the time, he was able to control his abilities, which in itself is exceptional. But…"
"But something must have happened that broke that training," Dr Hewley finished. "Which does not explain one bit why his transfer file happens to be a fake and leaves us without any contact in his family. Dr Carter, something happened to that young man. Something bad. I don't know what it is, but…"
"Can I ask you a question, Dr Hewley?" Carter interrupted.
"Of course."
"If we manage to help him, will you try to include his case in your research program?"
"Well, I would like to. A trained empath is absolutely unheard of, and the methods he used to control his power could help lots of people. But… Dr Carter, I am not here just to complete my research program or find docile lab rats. I am here to help people. I am here to help them live with new abilities that can destroy them. I am here to learn about those abilities and try and do my best to make life comfortable and as normal as possible for those who have them. I will never do anything against the wish of a patient or his family, Dr Carter. If the Winners want to remove him from our facility and won't let me have any further contact with him, I am not going to pester them in the name of science. New Types are human beings and deserve a decent life and privacy just like everyone else."
The end of the tirade was indignant, and Dr Carter smiled.
"I'm sorry if you thought I was being rude, but I had to ask. We've been having problems with some of the staff lately, and we have at least a forty percent rate of patient with New Type abilities. And… well, I've grown rather attached to him, to be honest. He is… I don't know how to describe it, and it's strange considering that he doesn't even talk to me, but there is something drawing me to him, as if I can hear the cries for help that he doesn't speak."
"That's… an interesting way of putting things into words, Dr Carter," Elizabeth Hewley pointed out. "And maybe not untrue. I've been working on empaths a bit, and some of them have not only the ability to feel other people's emotions, but also to project their own."
"So he's really calling me?" Carter asked with wide eyes.
"I don't know, Dr Carter. Maybe. It is a possibility, anyway. Now…"
Dr Hewley picked up several papers on her desk and straightened them.
"I really would like to meet Mr. Winner, but I'm stuck in meetings all day. Would it be possible for you to arrange a visit for tomorrow?"
"Sure."
"Perfect. I'll try to find someone to work on a contact number so that his family is warned the soonest possible. This fake medical file bothers me. It looks like someone didn't want to be involved in his hospitalization, and… well, something doesn't feel right here."
"You mean that since the transfer order is a fake, we don't know who arranged for him to be sent here."
"Exactly. Which means that legally speaking, we have no right to keep him here. But we cannot send him away to an unknown place. I'll do my best to find someone to work on this problem. Then, after I see your patient, we'll do a scan of the big medical databases. I have clearance to scan old OZ databases, as well as Romefeller's, and I can try a search in the Preventer database too. The Winner database is private and out of bonds, unfortunately."
"Thank you, doctor. I don't know what I would have done without you."
"No need, I'm just doing my job," Dr Hewley said tiredly. "Well, I'm not keeping you any longer. I have a meeting now, so I'll leave you to go back to your patient. Just page me once you have found a suitable time for my visit tomorrow."
~Same time, isolation suite #07~
Shannon kept on talking, as she usually did, about the weather outside and hundreds of insignificant things as she straightened things around in the suite. Once she was done, she turned to her patient who was looking out of the window, one hand pressed against the reinforced-glass panel.
"Quatre? Let's go to the bathroom, shall we? You can take a shower and clean up a bit. Dr Carter should be back soon."
Quatre did not answer, but slowly turned away from the window and began to follow Shannon to the bathroom, eyes staring in the void.
"I'll just start the shower and leave you in here, okay, Quatre? You have your towels in their usual place, you know what to do with them, and if there's a problem, you just call me. I'll be right outside."
This last bit of the sentence was added out of pure habit, since Quatre never called for any kind of help. Carter and Shannon had retrieved the unconscious young man from the shower more than once, and never had they heard even a sound indicating he was in distress.
Moving to step into the bathroom, Shannon completely forgot that someone had washed the floor and that the tiles were still wet.
/danger/
/don't walk there/
What happened next was too fast for Shannon to fully register what was going on. Before she could get into the bathroom, Quatre's head suddenly snapped up, his usually expressionless features full of a warning she did not understand. Seeing that on his face unbalanced the nurse, who stepped on wet tiles and began to slip. Almost too fast for her eyes to see, the young man's arm snatched out and grabbed her, pulling her to safety against his chest.
She ended up kneeling on the suite's floor in front of Quatre, who was also kneeling. One of his arms was circling her waist, and the other cradling her head, pushing her against him. The young nurse looked back and gulped. If Quatre had not caught her, she would have slipped and probably hit her head on the edge of the sink and hurt herself. And Quatre… Shannon tried to look up, but the strong arms that held her in place did not move. Shannon began to shiver, the aftermath of the shock catching up with her. She had almost gotten herself killed, and Quatre had saved her.
/fear relief gratefulness fear shock fear/
/hurts/
As if burnt, Quatre suddenly let go of her and scrambled back to the other end of the room, clutching his chest and letting out a little wail. Shannon shook her head, and stood up feebly, trying to calm the beating of her heart. She had no idea what had just happened. It was as if… as if Quatre had foreseen the accident. As if he had known she would fall and hurt herself if she walked there. Shannon did not move before she was sure that she was calm and collected again. Her strong surge of emotions that she had been unable to control was obviously hurting Quatre.
"Quatre?"
The young man was breathing in short gasps, his shoulders heaving, his eyes wide as he experienced her fear. Shannon came closer and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, gently massaging it, and helping him to calm down. Both she and Moira had been chosen because they were stable persons who could control themselves and had no personal problems that could interfere. Dr Carter had taught them a few calming techniques that could help Quatre in such cases.
"Quatre, it's okay. It's over. I was scared for a moment, because of what could have happened, but it's over now. I am alright. I'm not scared anymore."
She almost gasped as Quatre suddenly looked directly into her eyes, his own eyes questioning. She almost could read the question in his eyes. 'Are you alright?'
Very gently, she touched his cheek.
"I am alright, Quatre. And it's thanks to you. If you had not caught me there, I could have hurt myself. Thank you very much."
Quatre frowned, looking troubled and confused. He turned his head, gingerly evading the contact, and looked down.
'What's wrong?' Shannon wondered. 'Did… did I do something wrong?'
"I'll mop that wet floor, and then I'll let you take your shower, okay, Quatre? Just wait for me here a minute, I won't be long."
'I have to warn Dr Carter,' she thought as she got out. 'This is the strongest reaction we got from him since he arrived here, apart from the nightmares. And he actually took an initiative. That's... could we finally be getting through to him?'