"So, Roxas." The redhead began, opening a very large, over-stuffed manila folder and leafing through it briefly. "You've quite the history, I see."
"I like to think of it more as a legacy." His blonde patient answered, playing idly with one of the tassels on his hoodie.
"Call it whatever you like; there are far too many post-its on your file." Axel gave Roxas a leveling look; something that was half a frown, half just disappointed.
Roxas smiled and rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like I actually care."
In response, the doctor sighed. "You're committed, right? Your mother signed you in…since you're under eighteen you can't leave until she says so…Why do you think she would do that, Roxas?"
"I don't know. Maybe she thinks I'm crazy." Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he replied.
"Maybe…" Axel cleared his throat and took a sip of the tea that had been sitting on his desk for a good two hours, and by now was distastefully cold. "Do you think you're crazy?"
Roxas straightened up, his demeanor changing visibly. "No. Do you?"
"I'm not sure yet. I do plan to find out, however."
"So, what? You're going to ask me a bunch of questions about my childhood, ask me about my family, and from that you plan on deciding whether or not I have a mental disease?" He snorted. "And you people think I'm crazy."
Axel raised his eyebrows, but otherwise showed no reaction to the blonde's comment. "So," He began. He leaned back in his chair, the springs of which creaked with age. He folded his hands across his chest, shrugged. "Tell me about yourself."
"What would you like to know?"
"Whatever you'd like to tell me."
Roxas twitched imperceptibly and leaned forward, clearing his throat. "Well, we can start of with…my mother who drained my college fund to feed her coke habit, my father who molested all of my friends until they were afraid to come near me, and my little sister who thinks that prostituting herself is the only way to make a "decent" living."
"Stop lying, Roxas." Axel murmured offhandedly. In reaction, Roxas bristled.
"What do you mean, 'lying?' What motive do I have to lie to you?"
"I don't know. But feel free to tell me. That is, after you tell me the truth." Axel smiled at him as pleasantly as he could manage. Roxas just continued to glare daggers at him.
"I'm not lying."
"There was an aspect of your story that wasn't truthful, Roxas. Are you going to correct yourself, or are we done for today?"
The blonde stood up, moved toward the door of the small office, but stopped with his hand on the knob to look at Axel over his shoulder. "I'm not lying." With that, he left.
--
"Medication!" The nurse called through the day room. Slowly, all of the patients lined up to retrieve their little candy-like pills. All, of course, except for Roxas. He sat in his seat in the window, an abused book in his hands, eyes quickly scanning the familiar pages.
"Roxas, are you going to take your medication today?" A pretty, young nurse approached him, her black hair tied up in a high bun, a pleasant (but fake!) smile on her lips.
"I hadn't planned on it, no." He replied distantly. She only nodded and walked away.
From the corner of the room, safely located near the door, Axel watched the entire exchange with a look of pure interest adorning his face. He had a portion that he had taken out of the blonde's folder in his hands, a small yellow note stuck to one that said, 'Continuously refused medication.'
Slowly, almost cautiously, he walked over to stand behind his patient who's nose was buried in his book, and who seemed to note even notice him. "Roxas." He muttered softly. The blonde, however, continued to ignore him.
"Roxas, why aren't you taking your medication?"
He stood there for about five minutes before Roxas looked up, and when he did, his expression was one of seemingly genuine surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. Where you talking to me? I didn't notice; I was reading."
"What book are you reading?" Axel asked softly. The brief look of confusion that flashed across the blonde's face was enough to tell Axel that he had in fact been listening to him earlier.
"The Great Gatsby." He answered. Axel moved to sit down on the sill next to him, and Roxas moved his feet to give him room. "Ever heard of it?"
The redhead snorted. "Please, Roxas. Everyone's heard of The Great Gatsby. I read it a record 35 times in college." At that he laughed, and everyone in the room turned to look at him.
"Oh my God." Roxas breathed. "You've shown a sign of happiness. You must be shunned immediately."
"Everyone here is so starved of happiness," Axel shrugged. "I thought I might mix things up a bit."
"People here don't really laugh, Doc." Roxas said, continued reading. "You might want to remember that for future reference."
"And why is that?"
To that, Roxas's only answer was a shrug.
--
At eight, the call came through the loud speakers that announced the patients were to leave the activities room and head back to the dorms for bed. The filed into the same, alphabetical line that they were always in, shuffling their feet.
They were met by a crowd of smiling nurses, one to each patient, ready to help them undress, put on their night clothes, and get tucked in safely to bed. Roxas made his way to his bedroom that he shared with one of the Acutes (as put in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest), and politely told his nurse that he would need no assistance getting ready for bed.
She told him just as politely that it was ward policy that she helped him.
The following was inevitable.
She and Roxas went back and forth for a few moments, Roxas telling her that he needed his privacy and that he needed no help, her telling Roxas that she was obligated to help him. After that, however, he couldn't hold in the scream that had been building in his chest.
"Lady! I do not need help getting dressed and undressed!" He threw his hands in the air, she cringed away from him, and immediately their were four aids at each of his sides, restraining him.
Naturally, he struggled against the strong hold of the four of them, his arms and legs thrashing. Three nurses came running down the hall (why were there three of them, he wondered idly. Why not just one?), one of them with a small needle in her hand.
The sedative worked quickly. After Roxas felt the uncomfortable metal tube puncture his arm for what seemed like the millionth time, the buzzing feeling in his head started. The darkness began closing in around his vision. The strength just evaporated from his veins, unexplained sleepiness taking him over. Soon enough, he was tripping so badly that he wasn't even aware of them carting him off to seclusion.
A/N: Sorry this update took so long, guys. ^^; I've been really busy of late, and I haven't had an opportunity to write anything. However, I promise I'll be turning out chapters faster than I have been. Don't be surprised if I pay more attention to College Sweatshirt, though. That's the one that's been plaguing my mind.