Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Lana Winters.

American Horror Story: Asylum

A Residual Haunting

Chapter Six

From the hall, Lana peered in through the doorway of her cell as Oliver was guided out by the men in white that had been so conveniently absent when she need them most. Of course now that their tyrant of a leader was here, conveniance was a thing of the past. Oliver didn't even put up a fight after the orderlies arrived and just let himself be pulled him out from underneath the bed with a somber expression.

Once to his feet, he was escorted out of her cell. Lana's cold brown eyes remained locked with Oliver's and he gave her a hardened stare in return. He stood directly before her, calm and stoic with his arms held tightly by the orderlies at his side while his tall figure was chained and cuffed from the ankles to his wrists. They spoke not a word and held each other's gaze, one filled with hatred, the other filled an underlying longing.

Before the last wrist cuff was secured, Oliver suddenly jerked forward in Lana's direction and the security guard on standby rushed up, his nightstick withdrawn and struck Oliver across the face. Immediately he let out a deep bellow, his voice bouncing across the emptiness of the long hallway of cells. Lana watched with numb, unforgiving eyes as a small gush of blood rushed from his nose and he dropped to his knees, crumpling over to clutch his face. The orderlies pulled him up to a sitting position by his arms and he looked up at Lana, his face twisted with the blinding pain shooting through his nostrils.

"You're becoming quite the problem child around here, Oliver." Sister Eunice said nonchalantly, her green eyes giving the cell a last once over as she strolled out and up to Oliver, peering down into his dark eyes. "Forcing yourself on Miss. Winters… I guess losing your first baby to the system wasn't enough of a cautionary tale for you. And if you've created another, it will suffer that same fate you know so well, especially after the way you had Kit Walker's child ripped away from its mother's arms… Babies will not be raised here and will be given to St. Ursula's home for lost children. No exceptions."

"No! Sister…" Oliver huffed out and sat back on his haunches. Shaking his head with his eyes scrunched tight, he forced himself to once again erase the memories he was still trying so hard to suppress all this time.

When he received the news via letter from the asylum that Lana had given birth while he sat behind a set of bars and a sheet of glass on the outskirts of town, the resentment and profound sadness he felt made him wretch knowing that the baby was immediately sent to an orphanage. It was an inevitable turn of fate and no matter what, he would never hold him in his arms, he didn't even know his name…. As Oliver waited all those unbearable months for his trial to end, he longed for the awaited punishment he would receive and often it took all of his will not to just hang himself from the dingy bed sheets of his bed with each reminder that his only child was forced to relive his tormented life because he couldn't provide the better one he had in the making.

Oliver looked up from the red smear of his own blood coating his fingers to meet Lana's eyes, "You wouldn't really want to give him away, would you?"

When she didn't respond and just shook her head, his one free arm reached out for her suddenly and she quickly backed up out of his reach. Oliver's face switched from desperate to disheartened the moment she deprived him of any comfort and he gave her a confused expression. They'd just spent the entire night together, him curled up against her with his head on her chest as he listened to her heartbeat the same way an infant would be comforted by its mother's presence.

"Lana?" he breathed out, his long fingers grasping at the air for her as the orderlies struggled to pull him back.

The distance she was giving him was nothing short of a frustrating reminder of what occurred just an hour ago in her cell. When he let her free of his grasp before sliding under his appointed hiding space beneath her bed before sunrise, he immediately felt the return of his lingering loneliness. Bereft, he watched with regret as Lana scrambled into her bed and curled into a ball, turning her back to him in such a way he could practically feel the coldness on his skin.

Oliver felt a burning at the back of his throat like the bitterest stomach acid that she would dismiss him so easily now. He reached out for her again, but the only comfort Oliver received was the faintest brush of his fingers along her arm when pain suddenly shot through the back of his head. His dark eyes widened, reflecting only emptiness as the small reporter in front of him disappeared into darkness.

"Son of a bitch just doesn't know when to quit does he?" said the security guard under his breath after striking him down.

"You must be new around here. He is Bloody Face after all… What did you expect?" Sister Eunice stated flatly.

The guard gave the nun a look of surprise. Lana saw Oliver's large form fall to the floor at her feet, his hands outstretched to just a few inches near her feet. She watched with a breath she didn't realize she was holding as his long fingers curled into his palms as unconsciousness arrived to claim him.

Exhaling heavily, her eyes closed in much needed relief. He was out cold, probably would be for a few hours. A rather large orderly that she'd never seen before stepped up and plucked Oliver from the floor, hoisting his tall frame over his shoulder easily like a sack of flour in the kitchen.

"Put him in solitary." Sister Eunice muttered, the irritation in her voice more than apparent. "Make sure he's somewhat comfortable, I suppose. He's going to be there for a while."

The security guard and the small handful of orderlies then headed down the hall, but Lana couldn't tear her eyes away from Oliver's unconscious form, his limp arms dangling down the orderly's back and his short dark hair hanging towards the floor.

"Your people let that monster in here..." Lana said, and turned to Sister Eunice with anger flashing in her eyes and yet her weak, trembling voice paved the way for tears to stream freely. "They didn't even check to see if he was still in his bed! You should hope I don't find a way out of here because every bit of this will go to the police."

With a surprisingly soft expression on her face, Mary forced a small comforting smile and clasped her hands in front of her. "Miss. Winters, you've been through a traumatic ordeal… I get that. And I'll be dealing with the night staff personally as this is something we do not tolerate. But I assure you, it won't happen again."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Lana said coldly.

"Well, that's up to you…. Do with it what you will." Sister Eunice said and moved closer to usher her back to her cell. "But I will guarantee one thing, if I get wind of any of your self proclaimed heroic nonsense leaking to the public, you won't like the consequences..."

Lana swallowed.

"I'm sure you've heard this story before." Sister Eunice continued, her tall black figure standing straight as a board. "But like everyone else who's tried to become a martyr around here, you won't enjoy the way your story ends."

Deciding to button her lip, Lana settled with a silent glare.

"Now… Let's get you back into your cell to wait for the nurse on duty to evaluate you and get you cleaned up." the nun finished and reached to slide the cell door open wide.

Lana frowned at the implication that her body would once again be exposed, poked, and prodded by unwanted hands. As the nun guided her in the direction of her cell, Lana stopped and slid out of the nun's grasp. For a moment, she stared blankly into the cell and her body began to tremble all on its own. The light bulb hanging over her bed was flickering, flashing the small room from light to dark. Even though she knew that Oliver was nowhere in sight, the short flashes of darkness she saw left her terrified and frozen to the spot at the thought that he could be in there as he was before, lurking around in the shadows. Waiting.

She winced as the sticky remnants of Oliver's seed still clinging to the sensitive skin between her thighs made itself known. Lana quickly shook her head, her face twisting into an empty sob and she turned to Sister Eunice.

"Please don't make me go back in there..." she whispered in a small voice as tear threatened to spill over her lashes.

Mary sighed and finally nodded. "Alright, let's walk you down to the infirmary then… But remember, you'll have to come back here to face your demons eventually."

The feeling of lost time seemed to fade in and out for Oliver as he sat alone in solitary, surrounded by darkness and silence and what he thought would be the comfort of his thoughts to push him through the long days. Being alone had never been a challenge for him to face, but the memories of his experiences from that night with Lana in her cell tormented him with an almost uncontrollable pining. The need to have her pressed up against him again was maddening like ants crawling under his skin, constantly in search of a way out that didn't exist.

It began with a the lack of sleep which eventually led to the inability to dream in hopes of reliving those lost moments all over again. Eventually the most basic of needs such as eating the food in the tray that was slid under the door became forfeit and instead he spent his time in the empty room, lounging around the floor thinking of how he would so readily give away his soul to at least have his old skin mask for comfort. Even if he could, it now paled in comparison to the only woman's flesh that could satisfy his craving and yet it had always been there for him when no one else was.

With each day that passed, the orderlies then began to forget about removing the strait jacket he wore from time to time. And so he spent his days curled up in a ball or flat on his back in a corner, staring up at the ceiling with an almost vacant expression while his mind was constantly at play to recapture those memories with her that were steadily slipping away.

As Lana sat in the common room, puffing anxiously at the cigarette pressed between her lips, she gazed down at the game of solitaire she'd laid out for herself across the table in front of her. Laying another card down atop the row of cards she had been building with a soft plap, she glanced up at the common room doors. She wasn't sure how long it's been since Oliver was placed in solitary confinement seeing as keeping track of the passage of time was no longer a necessity. There wasn't a day that went by that the facility wasn't stealing it from her so why continue trying to hold onto something she no longer possessed? And even though Oliver's presence was thankfully absent, as always he was never far from stalking her mind.

Her fingers moved the cards around the table quickly, calculating, her eyes moving over the numbers with precision until she'd assembled them all numerical order as the game required. It had taken days of pleading and begging to finally get a phone call to the outside, but thankfully the orderly, Carl, was still on her side. She was getting antsy now, her leg beginning shake with the mind drilling anticipation. Setting another card down, she glanced in the direction of the double doors again for a second then returned to her game. She was supposed to have been here twenty minutes ago….

Suddenly the double doors swung open and Lana looked up, a flood of relief washing through her mind as the almost forgotten face of her colleague from the cooking column timidly walked inside. Lana couldn't help looking the woman's outside attire up and down, the stylish blonde updo of her hair, the long white coat and gloves, and black stockings and heels to match. For the first time in what seemed like an unaccounted for amount of stolen years, she felt what was once a part of her life that was lost become found. Setting the cards down, Lana rushed across the room.

"Abigail!" she called out, a huge smile spreading over her face.

Abigail looked up, her expression clearly uncomfortable by the ill-fitting surroundings and dazed faces of the inmates stumbling throughout the common room as usual.

"Lana! My God, look at you…." she said, a hint of pity in her voice to see her old friend in such a place and immediately wrapped her arms around Lana's shoulders in a tight hug.

It had been so long since she'd last felt the true warmth and comfort of someone on the outside and Lana couldn't help herself but to fall into the hug, letting her frustrations melt between this woman's arms. "Are you alright?" she heard her say.

Pulling away, Lana averted her gaze for a moment then grabbed Abigail's hand and led her over to sit in a more secluded sofa in a corner. Of course she knew that Abigail was well aware of the court case and the events prior that led up to now, there wasn't a person in this town that didn't, but she couldn't bring herself to mention any of it again.

"I know that lunatic is in here with you…" she commented softly and held Lana's hand in her own and suddenly as realization struck her, she quickly scooted closer to Lana, looking around the common room with wide eyes. "He isn't here… with us… is he?"

"No, he's in solitary… For now." Lana said comfortingly as she knew exactly the type of fear her friend was experiencing all too well, the type of fear that clung deep inside you to the bone like the coldest winter chill.

"He hasn't done anything to you, has he?" Abigail probed, catching Lana's weary brown eyes and watched them become glassy after a long moment of silence until they spilled down her cheeks.

Lana didn't respond right away and wiped the buildup of tears streaming steadily down with her fingers.

"Oh, Lana…" Abigail whispered and quickly reached into her black handbag for a napkin, handing it to her to wipe her eyes. "I want to get you out of here, but I don't know what to do."

"You can't. Others have already tried, time and time again." Lana responded wistfully as her mind drifted to Kit who she had eventually told to just to move on with his life instead of coming back here to rehash these terribly haunting old memories. "But… there is one thing you can do."

The blonde watched quietly as Lana dug into the pockets of her brown sweater feverishly until she pulled out several folded up pieces of paper. Grabbing Abigail's purse, she stuffed them into it quickly and handed it back to her.

"Take these to the column, research them, and collect as much information you can on the facility and it's past with the information written here." Lana whispered then grabbed Abigail's hands in her own tightly, looking into her eyes with a determined expression.

Abigail gave her a strangely curious flash in her eyes, unsure of whatever plan her friend was concocting. To her dismay, she couldn't stop the thoughts of just how slightly unhinged she looked with her almost wild brown hair and wide eyes. Surely what Lana had in mind wasn't something that she would be able to pull off on her own, not with what could be possibly stolen documents from someone who was technically considered a mental patient.

"Lana… I don't thi-"

"You have to do this. You're on the inside at the column and you're the only one I can trust. If this place gets shut down, the truth will be divulged and I'll finally be free. But I can't do that from in here…" Lana interrupted, her face filled with desperation. "You're all I have left in hopes of ever getting out of here and since you'll have access to the appropriate resources, we can make-"

Lana paused as an orderly passed them by and she looked to the floor, waiting patiently as the man in white looked both of them over with a suspicious glare until he disappeared across the room.

"We can make this happen." Lana finished. "I'm still trying to work out how, but I plan to find my way into the administration office to go through the patient files. I know mine is there…."

Hesitant, Abigail sighed, "What if you get caught?"

Shaking her head, Lana reached across from them for her cigarette that she'd left in the ashtray atop the table with her playing cards. Taking a long drag, she exhaled a heavy cloud of white smoke and glanced around the room. "There isn't anything they can do to me that hasn't already been done. Now, I want you to meet me back here next week, same time, same day. I'll have more information to give to you by then."

Clutching her purse tightly to her chest by a hand, Abigail reached out and cupped Lana's cheek, her face softening further. "I promise I'll be back."

Another tear slid down Lana's cheek as she nodded, feeling the warmth of Abigail's hand slide away from her face as she got up and headed towards the common room doors. The blonde gave her one last regretful look before disappearing out of sight. Moving back to her original spot, Lana slid back into her chair to resume her almost forgotten game of solitaire. Picking up the cards, a small smile spread over her face. Abigail may not be able to get her out, but with her help she could at least get this place shut down which in turn should grant her freedom. Except there was only one problem… Oliver would be moved to a better, suitable facility mental facility when in truth, she wanted him to rot in hell here.

Unless she found a way to kill him first.

====To Be Continued====

A/N: Thank you again to everyone who is following this story and I'm glad you're still here! Sorry if this was terrible. I know some of you have been wondering since the beginning what happened to the baby so I decided to include something here in terms of progression simply because in truth, Johnny wouldn't have a place here sadly as Briarcliff would never allow Oliver to keep him and we all know that Lana wouldn't even if she could. So, it has been done.

*crumples over with Johnny feels*