The next morning, Dandy and Violet had breakfast together. It was another delicious meal prepared by Roy: Florentine omelets and hashbrowns, with pulpy orange juice on the side. After months of low-budget asylum food, the burst of flavors was overstimulating to Violet. She couldn't finish her generous portions, though she very much wanted to.

"My appetite isn't what it used to be," she apologized.

He smiled. "I felt the same way when I got out," he lied. He had been ravenous when he escaped. "I'm sure you'll recover in time."

"I'm sure," she agreed.

He lifted his glass of juice and swirled it thoughtfully. "You know," he said. "You don't have to go back. Not if you don't want to. I could have Dr. Thredson release you."

Violet checked her reaction, keeping her expression as smooth as she would if they were playing poker. His mood was odd that morning. She couldn't afford to blindly trust what he said, or how he might react to any reply she might make. And there was Tate to think of.

"Release me? But what about my job?"

He reached over and grabbed her nearest hand in a passionate display. "If we were to marry, you wouldn't need a job. I could take care of you here. Like this. Forever."

The proclamation made Violet's heart skip a beat, though not because she shared his fervor. "Married?" His expression darkened and she quickly added: "Isn't it customary to have a, uh, ring if you're proposing?"

His expression cleared into a sunny smile, and he gave her hand a squeeze. "Of course! How silly of me. I just got excited. I promise you: I will get a ring and give you the most romantic proposal ever."

He kissed the back of her hand then, his dark eyes locked on hers.

...

Ben slammed the telephone down. He was in a foul mood. It had started with his finding out that his daughter had not only been shifted to work release but spent the night at Dandy's home — both without his permission. Then when he tried to reach out to local police about the madman in charge, his concerns were dismissed. Things were rapidly spiraling out of control. He suspected Dandy had paid off the police somehow, but he had no way to prove it.

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. Despite his discouragement, he wasn't about to give up. He just needed a different plan. If the police wouldn't listen to him, perhaps someone else would.

—

It took virtually no time for Ben to get a reporter to agree to come to the asylum for a tell-all interview. Ever since Tyler Hunter's college buddy George had disappeared in the place while doing some gonzo journalism to investigate his aunt's death, he was suspicious of the place. But as a fledgling reporter for the local paper, Tyler didn't have the clout to go dirt-digging. Being extended an invitation was a golden opportunity for him. He snapped up the chance and agreed to meet that very afternoon, bringing with him a photographer to help document everything.

Dr. Harmon sat for a brief preliminary interview with Hunter in his cramped Children's Ward office. He explained the deplorable conditions of asylum under Dandy's supervision and the man's own history as an escaped mental patient. But nothing he said could prepare the young men for the truly awful state of the place when he took them on a tour of the hospital wings and grounds.

Patients wandered aimlessly in the halls and sprawled beside walls, many asleep or unconscious. Several were naked. At least one looked dead. All were showing signs of neglect and malnutrition. Rooms made for individual patients were crammed with seven or eight. There wer patients whose teeth had been removed for "treatments" by Dr. Haddonfield. The smell in the wards was so bad, the reporter felt compelled at several points to cover his nose. The photographer wasn't so lucky as both of his hands were occupied with operating the camera.

Hunter tried to interview some of the patients, but most were too far gone or too drugged up to provide any answers. Those that could speak clearly were most insistent about the abuse they suffered at the hands of the guards Briarcliff had hired from the prison.

By the end of their tour, the reporting team had more than enough to write a damning article. When he left, Hunter promised Ben that it would be published that same week. Dr. Harmon went to escort the young men back to the entry when Billie Dean hurried up to them. She, like many patients, was wearing the same clothes she'd been wearing for the past couple of weeks, and it showed.

"Dr. Harmon," she said breathlessly. She was on edge because of the risk she was about to take. "I saw what you all are doing and... I have some notes I've been taking. And some that John took before they—they lobotomized him. Would—can I give them to the reporter?"

She hiked her skirt without inhibition and pulled a wad of notes and a small, battered notebook from the waistband of her dingy underpants. Though her method of delivery was surprising, Ben nodded. Tyler gingerly accepted the clutch of papers.

"Thank you, miss," he said gravely. Though he was put off by how she had been carrying them, he also understood the need. "I'll be sure to look through everything."

Billie Dean beamed in gratitude. Then her expression went serious. "Please. Do. There's... a lot there."

The group then took their leave of her. She watched as they left, fully expecting Dr. Harmon to escort them all the way out. However, when they reached the nurse's station where they should have been let out, only the reporters were allowed to proceed. Dr. Harmon was intercepted by Dr. Thredson. They were too far away for Billie Dean to overhear what was being said, but whatever it was, it upset Dr. Harmon.

The visitors were already gone when Thredson summoned the nearest orderlies. They grabbed Ben by the arms and physically wrestled him down the hall. Toward the worst of the solitary confinement cells.

"YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS!" Dr. Harmon bellowed loud enough for Billie Dean to hear.

Then he was gone.

Billie Dean hugged her middle and turned away quickly before Dr. Thredson noticed her. A sick feeling gnawed her stomach. Her only hope now rested in the hands of the reporter. She prayed that he and the photographer would make it out of the building.

...

Caring for Tate that day was difficult for Violet, especially after lunch. The sedative Thredson forced on her slowed her thoughts and instilled a false sense of well-being that defied the situation she knew she was facing. She wanted to think through what Dandy had said that morning, but it was next to impossible to split her attention between that and working with Tate.

Tate wasn't helping things, either. He could sense she was distracted and that bothered him. He wanted her to praise the mask he was working on, like she had been the day before. She barely seemed to notice what he was doing. He didn't understand the change in her attitude and the drugs he was on dulled his intellect to the point that he couldn't think about what was going on in her life. He could only focus on what was right in front of him. He also couldn't sort out how to act to make her want to pay full attention to him.

"I don't want to do this anymore," he said at last. He tossed aside the half-finished papier mâché mask.

The action surprised Violet. She had been steadily pasting strips of wet newsprint onto her mask, but she paused at his grumpy outburst. She wiped her fingers on a wet rag.

"All right," she said agreeably. "What do you want to do?"

The response bothered Tate more. "You're the nurse. You pick."

"Not a nurse," Violet said. She was trying to joke, but Tate's mood was strange to her. Almost as difficult to navigate as Dandy's had been that morning. "I'm just a candy-striper. Do you want to... to read?"

"No."

"We could draw some birds..."

"No."

Violet sat back and watched him. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the piece of newspaper he was idly shredding into confetti.

"Tate. What's the matter?"

He didn't like the direct question, so for a few long seconds he didn't answer. Then: "I hate it here. I want to go outside."

She gave a soft sigh. "I wish I could let you. I don't have the key to your cuffs."

Noise from outside reached them through the barred window, prompting both of them to get up and go over. Tate's chain wasn't long enough to reach, though, so he had to rely on Violet to tell him what she saw.

"There's something... something going on," she told him. "Looks like a bunch of reporters. And there's Dandy. I can't make out what they're saying."

She tried opening the window, but they were too far down below to hear clearly. It all sounded like nonsense to her.

"Probably just another dig at the conditions," she speculated and shut the window again.

When she turned back to Tate, he was seated in the center of the room, hugging his knees.

"Tate..?"

"I haven't seen my mother," he said without looking at her. "Not since she said... she said Dr. Thredson was my dad now. I think maybe she left me here."

None of that made sense to Violet. She suspected the drugs had something to do with it. She went to him and knelt beside him. "I'm sure she didn't leave you here."

"Then where is she?"

"I...I can ask Doctor Thredson," she ventured. Then: "She told you he was your father?"

Tate shrugged his shoulder. "She said we were a family now. I think maybe they got married." He anxiously chewed at the dead skin around his thumbnail.

Married. The word brought back Violet's discomfort from that morning. "Maybe you're just remembering wrong. The doctor's had you on a lot of shit—"

"I know what she said!" he flared. Yelling at her only made him feel worse, though, so he scooted around and put his back to her so he wouldn't have to see her reaction.

"Tate..." Violet tried. She didn't know what to follow it with that might reach him. She wasn't a therapist. Finally, she sighed and said: "Let me see if I can find Doctor Thredson."

She got to her feet and headed for the door, half-expecting Tate to call her back.

He didn't.

—

Finding Thredson proved a much longer task than Violet had expected. He was downstairs when she finally caught up to him, engaged in a serious discussion with Dandy. Neither looked happy. Yet when she approached them, they broke off their conversation. It was suspicious to say the least.

"Doctor Thredson?" she said, trying to be polite. She felt like she was walking on thin ice with both men staring at her. She again cursed the sedative that was messing with her mind, wishing she could think fast and clearly. "Uh. The patient is...he wants to, um. Go outside. For some yard time."

"I'm afraid that isn't one of his privileges currently," Thredson dismissed stiffly.

Violet hadn't expected to be shot down so easily. "Right. Okay. He was, uh. Also asking about his mother."

She could tell by the look on his face that Thredson didn't appreciate her pestering him. But when he spoke, his tone was unchanged. Formal. "He has scheduled visitation times. Today is not one of those times."

She glanced at Dandy, hoping for some positive sign. His expression was impossible to read.

"Okay," she said, feeling very much like her thoughts were chugging through cold oatmeal. "Um. What was that, er, the people on the stairs? Outside? Looked like...reporters."

"Nothing for you to worry about, my dear," Dandy swept in. His smile was tolerant, patronizing. "Just some people from the papers trying to drum up more bad press about Briarcliff. I handled them."

"Return to your assignment, Violet," Thredson instructed. "Unless there's anything else?"

There was a lot she wanted to say, but his tone let her know he wasn't interested. So, she gave a nod. Then, to Dandy: "See you later."

He smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Of course, darling."

Violet left them and headed back upstairs to break the news to Tate. Even the sedative couldn't completely kill the general sense of dread she felt. Something bad was happening and she was being kept out of the loop.

...

Author's Note:

Most of the episodes in this Season had 6 chapters, with some going to seven. This one might take eight. Possibly more. We've still got a bit of ground to cover, but I don't want to start a new episode. I guess we'll see how things roll out.

The chapter title Strange Days is shared by a James Cameron film of the same name. The plot of the film centers around virtual reality discs that allow people to experience events from other people's lives. It becomes a lot like a disorienting drug for many. Disturbing but fun flick that stars Angela Bassett (who later appeared in American Horror Story: Coven) and Ralph Fiennes (Voldemort), brother to Joseph Fiennes, who played Monsignor Timothy Howard in AHS: Asylum. Small world.

Next time: The storm Violet's sensing comes to a head.