Dr. Martinez sat in the lobby of the hospital for a long time, waiting for someone to come out and tell her that her son was ready for visitors. But it wasn't going to happen soon, and she knew it.
Valencia sighed and stared straight ahead at the wall in front of her. She had been given the medical report from the previous hospital, and it pained her. Her son had been tortured, abused, and mutilated beyond repair. He would never again build bombs or pick locks (not one of his most law-abiding habits, but still); he would never again cook dinner for the family.
Thinking back, Valencia remembered the fireworks Iggy had created using only a few simple ingredients. Small fireworks, it was true, but fireworks nonetheless, that soared into the sky then exploded in a burst of colors. Dr. Martinez had loved Iggy's fireworks.
And his cooking! Oh, his cooking! Ten times better than any gourmet chef could ever do! Pancakes were his breakfast specialty; fluffy and light and so, so good. The kids often could eat them even without syrup, due to the fact that he added sugar to the mix. Valencia would often grab a couple in the mornings to snack on, on the way down to her office.
But he was skilled in a variety of other foods as well. He could make the best chicken-noodle soup, which he would whip up whenever Ella was down with a cold. It would really help her fight the illness, too… she never stayed sick for very long since Iggy started making the soup for her.
And his dinners! He could make steak and hamburgers, chicken and fish, and all in ways that attracted even Ella's picky palate. Valencia knew she would kill – or at least injure – for a helping of Iggy's adored hamburger and French-fries.
And the lock-picking wasn't too bad, either. Well, Valencia had to admit it was annoying when he would pick the lock to Max's room and sneak in to steal stuff… but once when they drove out of town to a big mall, Dr. Martinez had accidentally left her keys in the car. The only reason they hadn't had to have been towed was because Iggy had his lock-picks handy.
But no more.
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
Valencia hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep until she was woken up by a nurse.
"Um… ma'am? Ms. Martinez?"
Dr. Martinez's eyes snapped open and she jumped, startled, her purse falling off her lap.
"Oh! Sorry, excuse me, ma'am," the nurse stuttered, bending to retrieve the purse, handing it back.
"Ah, that's okay. Um, yes? What is it?"
The nurse nodded her head to her and began to speak in nervous breaths.
"Ms. Martinez, the doctors say your son can be visited now, but it might not be wise due to his mental condition…"
Valencia stood hurriedly, and was slightly surprised to find she was a few inches taller than the nurse, and rather intimidating the poor thing.
"I need to see him. Please take me to him."
"Um, yes ma'am, right this way…"
The nurse – whose nametag read 'Catherine' – turned and lead Dr. Martinez out of the lobby, through several long, depressing halls, and through a slightly open door into an office.
A tall woman with dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail turned around to greet her.
"How do you do, Dr. Martinez. I believe you are a well-known veterinarian down at the clinic, yes?"
Dr. Martinez nodded to the woman.
"Yes, but I have taken some time off after…" her face fell, and the woman looked sympathetic.
"Well, Dr. Martinez. My name is Jennifer Markowitz. I am a doctor at this hospital, and head of the psychiatric ward. I specialize in helping patients with multiple personalities, manic-depressive disorder, and psychopaths. I am happy to inform you that I am the top psychiatrist anyone could have assigned to your son's case."
Dr. Martinez smiled faintly, reaching out to shake Jennifer's hand.
"Thank you, Dr. Markowitz. I'm very happy."
Jennifer nodded, then reached back to her desk to retrieve a file of papers.
"Right then. The police chief, Sam Garner, has obliged me by sending in these files on the psychopath Henry Terry. I have read them over, as well as your son's medical files. We haven't been able to thoroughly study your son, but we believe it may help if you interacted with him a bit. Would that be okay?"
"Of course," Dr. Martinez answered immediately, eager to see Iggy.
"Right then. The room in which Iggy Martinez is being held has a two-way mirror over one wall. We will be able to observe your interactions with him, as well as his responses. Catherine?"
"Yes, Dr. Markowitz?" the nurse answered.
"Dr. Martinez, Catherine is my intern. She is currently majoring in psychology, and wishes to achieve a M.D. in this profession. Catherine, please lead Dr. Martinez to Iggy Martinez's room."
"Yes, Dr. Markowitz."
Valencia followed the young girl back into the hallway and down to almost the very end of the building, then through a door into a small room. Through a large glass window covering the opposite wall, Valencia could see her son.
"Why is he wearing a straightjacket?" she asked furiously, moving forward and pressing her hands against the wall.
The room Iggy was in was a sort of off-white, with a hospital bed in the center and walls that were padded. Iggy was in a straightjacket, sitting in a far corner of the room and looking at nothing in particular.
"Ma'am, we had no other alternative. After recovery and his move into this room, he repeatedly tried… to eat his arms."
Valencia winced, and looked again at her son. The metal stitching in his mouth had been carefully removed, his mouth cleaned, dressed, and disinfected, and new stitching sewn carefully in place. This stitching was with the kinds of thin, clear thread that dissolved as the wound healed. The cuts over his chest had been cleaned and disinfected also, as well as the horrible stab wound in his foot, and all had been stitched and freshly bandaged. His arms, too, had been taken care of, although they were now obscured by the straightjacket he was wearing.
"Ma'am, please go on in. Dr. Markowitz will be here in a moment. We need to study the reactions of your son."
"Yes," Dr. Martinez nodded. "Okay."
Catherine opened a door for her into Iggy's room, and Valencia walked carefully inside.
The moment her foot touched the floor, Iggy's head snapped up and his eyes focused in her direction. His face stretched into a maniacal grin that looked horrible with his mutilated mouth.
"Iggy," Valencia started, moving forward carefully. Any sudden movements could frighten him. "Iggy, it's me. It's Dr. Martinez. Max's mom. Your flock is waiting for you back up at the house, with Ella, and Total. They really want to see you, Iggy."
Iggy cocked his head, still smiling. Valencia could see where some of his teeth were missing, leaving angry red spaces in his gums.
Dr. Martinez held out her arms imploringly, though she knew Iggy wouldn't be able to see them.
"Please, Iggy. Come back to us."
"Where'd my dad go?"
Valencia froze, drawing her hands back to her chest. Did Iggy really think that man had been his father?
"Iggy, that wasn't your dad. He's not your dad."
"He hurt me a lot."
"Yes, I know," Valencia continued, trying to reach some fragment of the boy that was still Iggy. "But he's not going to hurt you ever again. I promise."
Iggy's smile grew broader, until Dr. Martinez was afraid his stitches might burst. Then he asked a question.
"There's a gun pointed at your head. Do you pull the trigger?"
Valencia stared at the boy in incredulity. What was he saying?
"I… I don't know, Iggy, I…"
He continued to smile.
"Pull the trigger. Watch the blood fly everywhere. So red… so warm…"
Then he started giggling madly, and Valencia became frightened. Was this what her son had become?
"Iggy, stop. You don't know what you're saying. Do you remember what you used to be? Please, go back to that. Iggy, go back to that…"
"Iggy who? There's no Iggy here. Iggy's dead." More insane laughing. "He died a long time ago. Put the gun to his head, pulled the trigger… watched the blood fly everywhere…"
Iggy continued to laugh, and giggle, his grin staying wide and frightening. Then, quite suddenly, blood burst through the bandages on his chest and began to seep through, dripping down onto his lap. His expression changed in an instant to confusion.
"Max..?" And his eyes were normal. Sane. Iggy.
The door behind Valencia banged open, and Catherine rushed through.
"He's burst his stitches!" she gasped, placing her hand against his throat and feeling for his pulse. Iggy frowned at her and bared his teeth. That sudden moment of sanity was gone.
"Put him on the gurney. Fix his stitches. Try it first with him conscious. If that doesn't work…"
Catherine nodded and struggled to lift Iggy onto his feet – Valencia winced as he put all his weight onto his injured foot, but he didn't seem to notice a thing – and Catherine led him to the bed in the center of the room, sitting him on it, and rushing back into the small room for a medical kit. When she rushed back to Iggy, she threw a fleeting glance to Dr. Martinez.
"Ma'am! I need you to please retreat into the office with Dr. Markowitz. I need room here."
Valencia turned and ran back into the small room where she found Jennifer Markowitz looking on at the situation with a pondering expression.
Catherine first carefully undid the straightjacket confining his arms and removed it, revealing for Dr. Martinez to see the gruesome dismemberment. She winced and bile rose in her throat at the sight of Iggy's arms ending just after his elbows. It was awful.
"What are you doing?" Iggy asked, that horrible smile back.
"Fixing your wound. Please hold still."
Catherine then unwrapped the bandages from around Iggy's torso – Valencia noticed he was desperately thin – and revealed the wound with the stitches that had burst. It was just under his breast.
The woman then lifted a long, thin needle form her medical kit and threaded it with stitching.
Iggy turned his head towards the wall.
"Shut it. She's just 'fixing my wound'," he told… nothing. Nothing at all.
Then, the needle pierced his skin.
"SHUT UP!" Iggy shouted, kicking the ground, hard, so that the table rolled back and away from Catherine. "DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Catherine stood there, shocked, the needle still clutched in her fingers. She threw a glance to the one-way mirror, as if asking Jennifer for advice. Dr. Markowitz leaned forward to a small microphone, and pressed a button to speak into it.
"Go ahead and sedate him," she said, a sigh in her voice. Iggy was dripping blood all over the ground, breathing heavily, his expression crazed, and there was that terrifying grin again…
"Why didn't you want to sedate him?" Valencia asked Dr. Markowitz, while keeping her eyes trained on her son. Jennifer sighed and rubbed her temples.
"Henry Terry had been using sedatives to keep your son asleep while he was held in captivity. His body became addicted. We are trying to get him off the drugs, but that just won't work if we have to sedate him every time we try to help him. He's been doing this when we try to change his bandages, too…"
Catherine had crept forward, brandishing a needle, and finally inserted it into Iggy's neck with a sympathetic expression. Within moments, Iggy had slumped, asleep, onto the gurney.
Valencia put her hand nervously to her chest as she watched as Catherine gently stitched Iggy's wound back up and wrapped clean, fresh bandages around his torso. Then she moved to the ones around his foot and changed those as well.
"Your son is troubled. He obviously has posttraumatic stress disorder, and maybe dementia." Her eyes flicked to Dr. Martinez and softened. "Do not worry. We will try as best we can."
Catherine had moved to Iggy's arms, and as she began to unwrap the bandages to change as well, Valencia had to turn away.
Then she looked back at Jennifer.
"Do you think my kids could see him?"
Dr. Markowitz looked alarmed for a moment, then a look of dawning understanding.
"These wouldn't be the kids that rescued your son in the first place? And incapacitated Henry Terry?"
"They would be."
The two doctors both turned back to look at Iggy. His arms were now freshly bandaged, and Catherine was putting the straightjacket back in place.
"Okay. They are like this one, correct?"
Dr. Martinez turned to Jennifer in confusion, raising an eyebrow.
"Like Iggy..?"
"They have wings?"
"Ah. Yes. Yes, they have wings."