Chapter 6

The next day, Nurse Richards took Ianto on her morning rounds and showed him the patients' rooms on the first floor - which were mostly deserted by this point. The patients had breakfast and gathered in the day room to begin their morning activities. Ianto noticed Evan going from room to room, tidying up the sparse accommodations.

"We have four bed-bound patients at the moment," Nurse Richards explained to Ianto as they walked down the corridor.

"In the first room, we have Winifred Philips. She has epilepsy with unpredictable bouts of seizures. We decided to keep her secure for the time being to prevent her from hurting herself or others. She's also delusional, believing she was kidnapped, and witches brought her into the future," she chuckled as she opened the door to let Ianto in.

"Hello, hello?" the woman asked, tugging at her shackles. "Please help me! I'm not supposed to be here. Please!"

"Be quiet, Mrs Philips, don't get yourself too worked up. You are at the Westwood Mental Asylum because of your epilepsy, isn't that so?" she asked her in a friendly tone.

Mrs Philips fell silent for a moment, thinking. "Yes, it was my sister who brought me here a few months ago." The woman's brows furrowed. "But this is all wrong! I'm not supposed to be here!"

The nurse rearranged her pillow and gave her two pills to swallow. "Just relax, Mrs Philips, and you will feel better." The woman sank back into her pillow and closed her eyes. They waited until she fell asleep.

"This is one of her better days. If she has a seizure, we sometimes have to tighten the restraints, or she rips the bindings and starts thrashing around."

Ianto simply nodded and looked at the woman intently. Was she a time traveller from the past, or was she hallucinating? Perhaps the time anomaly did not occur solely in 2008.

The next patient was recovering from a lobotomy. Ianto was shocked when he realised it was Wesley Bennett, the missing jogger from his own time. What made them decide to use such drastic methods on him?

The 1950s were very different from the twenty-first century. Science was still discovering itself. Sometimes new procedures were successful, but the results were often disastrous, resulting in suffering and death.

"When we took Mr Bennett in, he showed strong signs of hysteria," Nurse Richards explained. "He believed that aliens had abducted him and sent him here. He insisted they would return soon and take him away in a large spaceship."

With pity in her eyes, she looked at the man.

"I blame the recent science fiction nonsense in our cinemas for this increase in hysteria," she went on. "And there's not a week that goes by without a newspaper headline about one of these UDO sightings!" exclaimed the nurse.

"UFOs," Ianto corrected her automatically.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Unidentified Flying Objects," Ianto explained, slightly blushing. "I do like to go to the cinema."

"The youth of today," she muttered. "But at least you understand what I mean; no wonder people come up with crazy ideas."

Ianto dutifully nodded.

"At first, we tried to treat him with a higher dose of Thorazine, but his hallucinations were too strong. Doctor Winslow decided to perform a transorbital lobotomy on him earlier this week. The chances of healing look promising, but it will take a few days for him to be back on his feet."

Ianto shuddered as he looked at the man. Wesley Bennett was about his age but looked like death warmed over. His eyes were sunken in, and fading bruises cast dark shadows around them. He stared apathetically at the ceiling, oblivious to the people around him.

Ianto only hoped that when they returned to their own time, someone could help him - if they returned to their own time.

A middle-aged man was sleeping in the next room. He, like the others, was bound to his bed. Nurse Richards woke the man up rudely with an overly loud voice after they entered the room. "Good morning, Mr. Thomas!"

The man groaned and opened his eyes slowly. He yanked on his bindings instinctively. When he realised he was bound to the bed, he ripped more violently at the leather straps, howling in frustration.

"Oh, Mr Thomas, calm down. Remember, you brought this on yourself? We all agreed that you would behave. But you didn't, you just can't keep your hands still, can you? As a result, you'll be restrained for three days. Enough time to reflect and regret. Your sickness is a matter of will. You must understand and repent to be free of your sins."

The man collapsed into his sheets, exhausted. "I know ma'am, it's just so difficult to resist the urges. I promise to do better."

"If you don't show signs of improvement, we'll schedule another ECT, but for now, I'll leave you to think about your sins," she said as she motioned for Ianto to leave.

"His wife brought him in for masturbation," Nurse Richards said quietly to Ianto as she closed the door behind her. "So far, he's not responding very well to our treatment."

"These poor souls," Ianto said solemnly, trying not to roll his eyes. For masturbation? If this weren't so serious, he'd want to laugh. How could she call this treatment? Of course, he couldn't say anything. As far as he knew, this was standard procedure in the 1950s.

"The last room for this morning occupies our newest patient. It's a rather difficult case. He seems to be hard to control, so we need to always keep his dosage high," Nurse Richard explained as she led Ianto into the room.

Ianto hoped to know whom she was talking about and sobbed internally with relief when he looked at the man he was looking for. It was upsetting to see Jack bound to the bed like the other patients, leather straps around his arms and legs to keep him in place.

Ianto immediately noticed that he wasn't as sedated as the nurse had claimed. He lay on his bed, only wearing a nightgown, his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Ianto felt compelled to rush forward, comfort him, and assure him that everything would be alright. He couldn't do that because he needed to keep his cover intact. He stepped back into the shadows, allowing Nurse Richards to check on her patient.

When she noticed Jack's open and attentive eyes, she looked surprised.

"You should have been sleeping, the soporific drugs should have kept you sedated for hours," she said emphatically.

"Didn't Torchwood tell you I'm special," Jack said bitterly. "Simple sedation won't knock me out for very long."

"Nurse Jones? Please prepare two syringes with sedatives," Richards instructed Ianto, who was still standing in the back.

Ianto saw Jack's head turning to look for the addressed nurse. Jones was a common name in Wales, but Jack immediately seemed suspicious. For a moment, their eyes met, and Ianto motioned him to remain silent. Jack glanced at him before turning away and returning his gaze to the ceiling.

"Please don't, I promise to play nice."

"I'm sorry, Mr Harkness, but I've received orders to keep you sedated," she explained.

Ianto took a step forward and handed the syringes on a tray to Nurse Richards, but she declined.

"Oh, go ahead, Nurse Jones. This is an excellent opportunity for you to prove your abilities," she said encouragingly.

Ianto looked at her, then at Jack, who had raised his eyes and silently observed him. Ianto reached for the first syringe after a brief moment of hesitation. He felt for the vein, his light touch lingering a little longer on Jack's skin than necessary. He hoped the brief contact would supply the reassurance and strength his eyes couldn't. He carefully inserted the needle. After the injections were administered, Ianto watched with an aching heart as Jack's eyes gradually glazed over and lost focus.

Nurse Richards was pleased with his injection technique. She then told him about her plan to assign one of the nurses to Jack permanently so that he could be watched continuously throughout the day. When Ianto offered himself for the job, she turned him down. This delicate special mandate needed someone with more experience.