AN: I'll add them after we start posting. That way they'll seem more related.
The next several days passed by in the same general manner. Kurt was still confined to his room for most of the day, and had taken to organizing and reorganizing all of his belongings to pass the time. He was so depraved of company that even the daily visits from that Sylvester lady made him more excited than he cared to admit. He really should have known who she was seeing as she was the "principal" of the "school" he would be attending. That was, if he ever left this room to attend it. If the pale brunet wasn't crazy when he first arrived, the maddeningly slow days were sure to push him off the edge of that mental precipice. He was starting to believe that the world was just going to forget about him, locked inside his too-small room; which was why he was pleasantly surprised when, on his third day there, the first lady to escort him around came to the door in the morning and invited him to eat breakfast with the rest of the staff in the dining hall.
The sun had barely begun to illuminate Kurt's room when he heard the telltale signs of someone about to open the door. He stopped combing his hair for the fourth time that morning and angled himself so he stood facing the door. It had opened slowly, cautiously, and Kurt knew instantly that it wasn't Ms. Sylvester at the door. She'd always slam the door open, nearly giving Kurt a heart-attack each time.
He waited patiently for the door to open all the way so he could see who his savior for this morning was. He was a bit startled when he recognized Mrs. Doherty at the door. She was wearing a bright yellow shirt and a pleated black skirt with a black headband resting on her soft auburn curls.
"Good morning, Kurt" she said softly, "Your transcripts arrived this morning. You've been scheduled for a mental evaluation today at two. As regulation demands, you're to be allowed some fresh air until then to clear your mind and prepare you."
Kurt shuddered at the nonchalance Mrs. Doherty expressed. He didn't really know what he had to prepare for, but it didn't sound pleasant. Suddenly, his room didn't seem like such a horrible option anymore. He nodded to her, not entirely sure he could speak without giving away how truly frightened he was, and moved to follow her as she stepped out of his doorway.
"After you're properly evaluated," she stated, walking down the hallway with Kurt following directly behind her, "the staff will provide you with a schedule and a dorm assignment. You are to follow both accordingly and without fail every day until you leave or are reassigned, understood?"
Kurt nodded again, but realized that it was a useless form of communicating since his escort was currently ahead of him and facing forward. He cleared his throat before giving a noncommittal "mmhmm," figuring it was safer than to actually voice his uncertainty.
Ms. Doherty stopped when she heard his response and turned around to face him. She gave him a scrutinizing look before softening her expression. She reached a hand out to pat his shoulder and Kurt barely stopped himself from flinching away from the kind gesture. Still, she seemed to notice his discomfort and lowered her hand before turning around and heading back down the hall towards the elevator.
Kurt found it strange that the building would have an elevator for only two floors. He figured that it was all part of the "equal rights for disabled" act that passed several years ago. Well, either that or catering to crazies all day just made the staff here that exhausted.
Kurt tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the elevator doors to open, but stopped when he noticed Mrs. Doherty doing the same thing. He opted for folding his arms across his chest and drumming his fingers against them. He never really enjoyed conforming to others or finding out that others have copied him. It felt like losing his individuality, and it was that individuality that made him special. He let a long gust of air out, which earned him a curious look from his escort, as he realized that giving up his individuality for a while.
Thankfully his train of thought was interrupted as the elevator doors 'dinged' open. The two stepped inside and Kurt leaned against the back while Mrs. Doherty reached forward to press the "down" button.
The slow ride down was silent. Silence seemed to have a way of making Kurt's skin itch. He always heard about people "lapsing into comfortable silence," but that never seemed to happen to Kurt outside of his family. Everyone would constantly try to fill the emptiness silence brings with inane gossip and idle chatter at his school. Even in class the students were talking. Not here. Here people seemed to revel in the uneasiness silence brought. It was a rather unpleasant thought.
Finally the elevator ride that seemed much too long for just one floor was over and the doors were opening to let him and Mrs. Doherty out. The first floor wasn't carpeted like the second one had been. This floor was shiny linoleum, the kind you would find in a hospital or a nursing home. Kurt recognized the front desk where his parents had checked him in and the waiting room he had waited in while his parents signed document after document restricting liability and promising monthly payments. He returned his gaze to the floor and wondered why his parents institutionalized him here. It was much farther away from his hometown in Lima –actually, it was pretty much in the middle of nowhere- and the fee was really steep, especially for their pay grade. Kurt didn't know for sure, but he suspected it had something to do with the "resort" quality the mental hospital held. At least this way his dad and Carole wouldn't feel as guilty about abandoning him here as they would if the buildings were made of steel and everything looked like a prison. What they didn't know, and what Kurt was slowly beginning to figure out, was no matter how soft this place looked and no matter how many smiling faces they threw at him, Kurt was as trapped here as he would be in the county jail.
A soft throat-clearing behind him startled Kurt out of his thoughts. He looked up from the floor. Mrs. Doherty was standing right in front of two large doors with her hand resting on one of the door handles. She was looking at Kurt with a mix of concern and irritation, the combination a ghastly sight, and gestured towards the door. Kurt mumbled a brief apology before walking ahead. His escort pushed the door open for him and he couldn't help but imagine himself a prince being allowed a royal entrance. He smirked at the absurd thought
The flimsy illusion was soon shattered when Mrs. Doherty grabbed his elbow and steered him over to the line for food. The room was inoffensive enough; it was an off-white with brown booths along the walls and wooden tables in the middle. The room looked a little shabby, but maybe that was just Kurt's imagination. Anything painted off-white looked shabby to him without the proper accents and accessories. Directly across from where they had entered was a salad bar followed by a buffet that looked incredible and much out of place in the dingy room.
Kurt was quick to grab a small tray of fruit and a cup of coffee, assuming this would probably be the last time he was allowed such delicacies before the processed and prepackaged meals were introduced. He perked up as soon as the delicious scent of coffee wafted over his senses; well, he was as perky as he could be with the looming evaluation in his future, proceeded by months (if not, years) of imprisonment he had to look forward to. His momentary happiness was soon crushed when he and Mrs. Doherty neared the end of the line.
There was a cashier, and Kurt didn't have any money. He was anxiously debating whether or not to just return his food when they approached to cashier. He nervously opened his mouth to ask if Mrs. Doherty would let him borrow some money when she shook her head at him and simply punched in a five-digit code on the keypad.
Kurt looked at her in confusion. "It's your meal number," she explained. "Every time you want to get food in the cafeteria, you put in your code. It will be at the top of your schedule when you receive it tomorrow. The food here is paid off by your parents' monthly payments."
Kurt was a little ashamed again by how much his dad and Carole were paying to send him here, but he nodded anyway. "Why is it done like that?" he asked. "I mean if everything's free, for us at least, why do we have to have a specific code we need to give every time we eat?"
"It helps keep track of who's eating, or not eating, what. It's partially for people with eating disorders or food diseases. But it also lets the staff know how much food to get and if anyone is smuggling extras." She gave him a pointed look that Kurt mostly ignored. Please, like he'd do anything to harm his figure. Instead he simply nodded. I wonder how many people are here because of eating disorders. Why would someone want to stop eating anyway? He shuddered at the thought of damaging his metabolism. Well I guess I have no right to talk. I didn't eat much when I was on the Cheerios. And I'm pretty screwed in the head too... He sighed, earning yet another strange look from Mrs. Doherty. At least we're all freak shows here. I won't get judged too much…hopefully.
Kurt continued down this train of thought for a while. He ate his food slowly, not really paying attention to it. He looked around at the staff. Why do they work here, of all places? He thought. Do they like having to spend time with head cases? Or maybe they just like working here. I wonder what they think of some of the crazies who come through here. Do they have favorites? Kurt took a bite of his fruit and took in the few people around him. There weren't many people sitting down and enjoying a late breakfast. Quickly scanning the room, Kurt noted that there was only one other person in the far corner booth eating. The other five people were merely sitting down inside the cafeteria. A young girl who kept biting her nails sat a couple tables away from Kurt and Mrs. Doherty with what appeared to be a chaperon of her own. She had shoulder-length brown hair with several hot pink streaks running through it. Her earlobes were stretched as if she had worn gages, but was recently forced to remove them. Kurt figured that she must have been a fellow newcomer like himself. The lady sitting with her seemed to be trying to get her attention, but she was avidly ignoring the attempts; opting to rather stare past the lady's head. She turned her head slightly and caught Kurt staring at her. Kurt quickly averted his gaze, flushing with embarrassment. Could he be any more obvious?
Kurt flicked his eyes up, but the girl was still watching him. He shifted slightly so his back was to her and continued his people-watching. There were hardly more interesting people. The man in the corner seemed to have finished his food as was walking his tray to the trash. A pair of employees were chatting amicably amongst themselves at a table near the middle of the room. The closest person to Kurt was another young man. He was dressed plainly in a blue T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. He had a small smile on his face and his arms were folded over each other, resting on the table. What was weird to Kurt, besides him smiling of course, was his lack of "adult supervision." Kurt looked around the cafeteria to see if he may have just missed an additional employee somewhere, but there was no one new in the room.
He sighed again, thinking of what would happen to him while he was there. He grew apprehensive, worrying about his psych eval. Kurt felt like crying. I really don't want to do this. Why me? Why do I have to do this? Why? Kurt just kept asking himself 'why' over and over again, until the word lost its meaning and was simply a mantra to keep from breaking down; even then he kept repeating it in his head.
"If it isn't the Cowardly Lion and my dear Porcelain." That snapped Kurt from his mental mantra. He looked up to see Sue Sylvester standing over their table. Over the past few days, Sue had given Kurt the option of choosing his own nickname of Gelfling, Porcelain, and Tickle-Me-Doughface. He had obviously chosen 'Porcelain.' "I'll take it from here, Cowardly Lion," she said, referring to Mrs. Doherty. "Porcelain." She pointed to Kurt and then turned around abruptly, walking away. Kurt could only assume that this meant 'follow me' in Sue terms.
She led Kurt out of the cafeteria area and down a few halls until they reached a door that said 'EXIT' in bright, green letters. She pushed the door open, leaving it to slam in front of Kurt. He barely caught it in enough time to save his precious face and stomped out with a furious scowl. Sue gave him a condescending glance before continuing on. Kurt meandered behind her. She was walking towards the dormitories, but he still wasn't entirely sure where they were heading.
"Keep up Porcelain. Your legs are long enough that you'll actually have to try to fall behind." Sue Sylvester shouted.
Kurt groaned in frustration. "Where are we even going?" He called back. He wasn't in the mood to play follow the leader around the property.
She pointed out to the garden in between the dorms."Oh…" Kurt said, quietly. He quickened his pace so that he was walking to her right, but a step or two behind her. He huffed at her impatience and looked at his surroundings. Everything looked so much bigger than when he was looking at driving up. The factory (or whatever it was) still loomed, tall and menacing, behind the two dorms. It looked a little more than creepy, especially when compared to the decent esque buildings right in front of it. The two dormitories were practically mirror images. They were both angled into a slight 'V' with the factory building at the tip and the garden in the middle. The roofs were shingled with black tiles and slanted. The windows were still barred, but Kurt didn't expect anything different. There were a few people puttering around outside. Mostly staff, but Kurt caught the occasional blue and red uniform here and there; some teenagers were even wearing the "physical attire" that Kurt himself would be given.
The garden that Kurt and Sue were walking through was actually quite pretty; but so were most of the things there. There was a fountain in the middle and small statues spaced out between bushes of roses. He noticed a replica of the armless statue, Venus de Milo as Kurt recalled, and multiple baby Cupids with their heart-shaped bow and arrows. There were a plethora of trees with small white flowers budding on them. Benches littered the courtyard; all surrounded by statues of people- a lot of whom were naked- and drinking fountains. Bushes intermingled with the trees on the perimeter of the garden. It actually reminded Kurt a lot of the garden in Hercules. Kurt grimaced at relating Disney to this place.
Kurt wanted to ask Sue if she knew what would happen to him, but he didn't particularly feel comfortable with opening himself up that much to someone he just met. He almost laughed at the irony that he was going to do just that to someone he knew even less. The situation did not seem predominantly appropriate for laughing, though.
As if Sue sensed his unease, she slowed her walk and looked at Kurt. "Loosen up, Porcelain," she said. As if that were possible with her looking at him. "You're starting to resemble the Cowardly Lion that escorted you here." She said as she tilter her head back towards the building they came from.
Kurt was slightly offended, but he figured that was the closest thing to comforting he would get from this lady. "Thanks," he mumbled. Sue ignored him.
They walked around the grounds—or "campus," as most of the staff referred to it as—for another few hours, Kurt observing what his new…home would be like. It was silent for the most part, other than their shoes against the concrete. Though the silence made him a bit uneasy, Kurt knew Sue wasn't one for small talk; and he didn't feel too inclined to start a deep conversation with the lady. She still intimidated him a bit.
It was about half-passed one when Sue started walking Kurt to the boy's dorm. Kurt's pulse sped as he, once again, thought of what he was about to do. Oh how he wanted a razor, or a knife, or something to make it all go away. His palms started sweating slightly and he rubbed them on his pant legs. He took a deep breath as Sue walked in before him, not bothering to hold the door open for him as Mrs. Doherty had done.
The inside of the dorm reminded him of a hospital (like everything else in that place) with its impeccably white walls, linoleum floors, and sterile scent. He shivered at the almost ominous feel it had.
"Come on Porcelain," Sue called. Kurt didn't realize that his feet had been dragging in his reluctance.
"Sorry," he called and hurried to catch up to her.
They walked down a few halls in more silence, the clicking of their shoes even more prominent in there than it was in the courtyard. The halls looked similar to those in the Visitor's Center. The only difference was in the amount of people. The Visitor's Center was decidedly lacking in the amount of uniformed boys walking around, and there were many more staff members here. Kurt kept his eyes glued to the floor as he walked past all the people.
They finally stopped at a door with a little gold plaque reading 'Dr. S. Taylor.' Kurt swallowed and looked at Sue. She seemed to hesitate before reaching into a pocket of her jumpsuit and pulling out a small pack of tissues. Sue handed them to him wordlessly and Kurt reached for the small package of Kleenex tentatively, afraid that they may be poisoned or something equally as cynical. He quickly shoved them into the back pocket of his jeans, where he planned to leave them.
"Well, Porcelain, this is where I leave you." She gestured to the door he was to enter, "I'd say good luck, but I have less boring things to occupy myself with." She walked away. Kurt had gotten used to that, so he just shook his head, turned back to the door, and knocked.