He had no idea as to where Lydia was taking him. In all honesty, he thought of turning back and crawling back into bed. He was tired and wasn't really up to sneaking through the hospital, looking for god knows what. More than anything, he was worried about getting caught. But despite the fear of getting caught, Scott followed Lydia; a deep sense of curiosity lurked beneath his fear and it tempted him to follow Lydia.

Once they had snuck past the nurse on duty that lurked in the foyer, Lydia led him to the staircase and they climbed two sets of stairs before coming to a door that opened onto the third floor; the same floor where Scott has seen the suspiciously locked door. They passed by the locked door, Dr. Blake's and several other doctors' offices before coming to a door that read Records Room.
Scott watched with surprise as he watched Lydia pick the lock like she had done it a thousand times before. The room was small and narrow, it seemed almost claustrophobic. It seemed to Scott as though no one had been here in ages; it seemed rather dusty and untouched. The entire room was lined with shelves, all filled with manila folders, all alphabetized.

"Why did you bring me here," Scott asked, analyzing the wall of records.
"To show you something," she muttered, her attention focused on the shelves before her. "This room, besides holding patient records, also holds information on the employees here, including the doctors." Her fingers skimmed along the line of folders, pausing when she came near the end of the highest shelf. She pulled out a folder that was marked with a green sticker and handed it to him.
"The ones marked with green are the records on employees, but you won't find anything too important in there. There's no evidence to convict them," she stated.

She pulled out two more folders. "But you can connect the dots."
"The dots for what," he asked numbly.
"For exposing them," she sighed, exasperated, "Look through their resumes; I'm sure you'll notice it." He grabbed the other two folders from her hands and sat down on the ground, spreading them out before him. Scott flipped open the first folder which had Dr. Barrow's name written along the tab. The two other files belonged to Dr. Morrell and Dr. Harris.

At first he didn't see it, but as he skimmed over each of their resumes, he realized that all three had worked at the same place previously. A place called Riverton Psychiatric Facility, located somewhere in Wyoming.
They had all been hired within months of each other and had quit within days of each other. They had all worked on the locked ward, working with the most unmanageable of patients. It could be a coincidence, but Scott doubted it.

"What makes you think that I can help you," Scott demanded, his voice raising an octave. "What's so special about me?" Lydia stared at him, her expression stern.
"Because I believe you can make this stop," she said reassuringly. "There is something different about you. The voices tell me to trust you." Scott tilted his head in confusion and opened his mouth, about to ask exactly what voices she was referring to when he remembered that she was a schizophrenic.

This was a stupid idea, he thought suddenly. He shouldn't have blindly followed Lydia. She had after all escaped from the secureward; she was a Houdini that was mentally unstable. Scott didn't want to get picked up and carried away into her bizarre reality. Unfortunately, it was too late to backtrack on his decisions.
"How do I know that this is true?" He waved the folders that were in his hand. "What if this is all just a coincidence?"

"Do you hear what you're saying, Scott?" she asked, her eyes burning brightly. " The three of them just happened to work at the same places before they suddenly quit at the same time, and now, within months of each other, they get jobs here; I don't think it's a coincidence and neither do you." The muscles in her face relaxed and the fire in her eyes dulled. "You doubt yourself…I understand that."
"But how do I know that you're telling the truth?" he asked. The small subtle sign of kindness vanished from her face, replaced with an irritated look. Lydia shoved him up against the door, her fist tangled in his shirt.
"I am telling you the truth, but I need you to trust me," she growled, "So will you help me expose them or not?"

Through the windows that lined the hall, Scott could see that the sky had lightened significantly. The trip back to the ward somehow seemed quicker than the trip off the ward. Lydia guided him effortlessly through the hallways, managing to avoid being spotted by the night staff that meandered around, and soon enough, Scott found himself back at his room.

"So what do you want me to do," Scott asked, lingering in the doorway.
"Like I said, I need you to expose them. It doesn't matter how you expose them, but you need to do it soon. Those three are twisted bastards, trust me."
"How do you know," he asked, "About them being "twisted bastards", I mean?" Lydia came to an abrupt halt and turned to stare at him, her head tilted.
"You should ask your friends that."

"What Stiles and Isaac?"
"Not Stiles," she replied. "Isaac and Derek." Turning sharply on her heel, Lydia made her way down the hall, effortlessly quiet, leaving Scott standing in the door to his room, dumbfounded. Isaac and Derek; did they know something? And even if they did know something about the doctors, getting them to talk about it would be like pulling teeth. Stepping back into the room, closing the door quietly behind him, Scott looked over at Isaac's sleeping figure. The conversation with Erica suddenly came to mind. Whatever had "broke" Isaac, as Erica had put it, Dr. Barrow had caused. The question was what had Barrow done that could mentally damage a teenager's mind.

"And you actually believe her," Stiles demanded. He dropped his fork onto his plate and leaned in closer. "Are you sure that you don't have brain damage that has somehow been overlooked?"
"I'm not saying I believe her, I'm just taking it to thought," Scott stated. "What if what she said is true?"
"What exactly did she tell you," Stiles demanded.

"She said that the three of them-Barrow, Morrell and Harris- were "twisted bastards" and they needed to be exposed soon. When I asked her what I should do, she told me ask…." Scott glanced over at Isaac, who more or less was listening, but his eyes were focused on his plate. "She told me to ask Isaac and Derek." Startled by hearing his name, Isaac went rigid and slowly glanced up at Scott.

"Ask me about what," Isaac demanded tensely. He stared at Scott, his blue eyes sharp. Although the question had been pressing at the back of his mind lately, Scott didn't want to ask it. He didn't know how Isaac would react to it. But if what Lydia said was true, Scott needed help to expose the three of them, and fast.
"The other day, Erica told us that you used to be Dr. Barrow's patient. She told us that there was nothing wrong with you when you came here. What did Barrow do to change that?" At the mention of his name, Isaac's hand clenched into fists. He directed his gaze back to the table and sighed heavily. Scott could see the tension in his shoulders spread up his neck to his jaw.
"That's none of your business, Scott," he hissed.

"Isaac, I don't want to upset you…It's just it might help put Barrow in the limelight, to kick him out of here." Isaac shook his head, his lips pursing tightly together.
"Why are you asking me this?"
"You were Barrow's patient. Lydia said you would know about how twisted the guy was."
"And you're going to believe what Lydia says!" he demanded, his voice growing louder. "She's a freaking schizophrenic, Scott. Why don't you use your brain before you leap into things."

"Look, I'm sorry, it's just that-" Scott stuttered, stumbling over his words. He hadn't intended to upset Isaac; he didn't know that the discussing Barrow would be an overly sensitive subject.
"Maybe you should stop talking," Stiles muttered lowly. Ignoring Stiles' words, Scott reached out for Isaac. As soon as his hand made contact with Isaac's shoulder, Isaac jolted up into a standing position, sending the chair squealing against the floor.
Several orderlies jumped to alertness as they saw Isaac suddenly rise from the table. He glared at Scott, his bright eyes burning with anger.

"You have no right to ask me about that," he said, his voice wavering. He stomped away, slowing only to pass the orderlies before storming out of the cafeteria. Stiles looked at him, a mixture of resignation and repulsion.
"Way to go, Scott," he muttered.

"I didn't know that he'd react like that." Stiles shook his head, a smug smile appearing on his face.
"Well you should have thought about it before hand." Stiles' gaze drifted to the cafeteria doors where Isaac had disappeared. "Well, since Isaac is a locked safe, you know what that means, right?" Scott sighed, hanging his head. He knew exactly what it meant; it meant he'd have to ask Derek. From the very little Scott knew about Derek, he definitely didn't want to get on his bad side. And if he reacted anything like Isaac did, he'd have a problem on his hands.

A/N: Sorry this chapter is was so slow. Hope you enjoy it! Comments and reviews are appreciated and welcomed.