A/N: CTHWOODS: Grace is the owner of Esclava. However, her primary occupation is working as a psychiatrist.

Chapter 5

Christian POV

The next day

Early evening

The phone rang just as Christian turned on the ignition. A quick glance at the caller ID had him cursing under his breath. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone; it had been a long day, and he was looking forward to getting home.

He answered after the fifth ring with a gruff hello. His brows rose in surprise when the on-call nurse at the psychiatric hospital told him Ana was asking to speak with him.

"What's going on?"

"She's refusing to take her medications."

"Let me talk to her."

"What's going on, Anastasia?"

"Christian, they're giving me to take the wrong medication. Please speak to the nurse and explain. My nighttime med is supposed to be a white pill, not a green and white capsule," she sniffed, the anguish in her voice palpable, "they're not listening to me. Talk to them, please."

"That's not necessary."

"What?!"

"Anastasia, listen. Your medication comes both as pills and capsules. Just because it looks different doesn't mean it's not the same med."

"How do I know for sure it's the same med?"

"The nursing staff doesn't make mistakes; they follow the instructions on your chart to a T."

"Of course they make mistakes; everyone makes mistakes! Christian... I haven't slept in weeks... Please, help me!" she cried.

"Anastasia, did you hear what I said?"

"And did you hear what I said?" She shot back.

In the silence that followed, Christian's annoyance grew tenfold to the point of willingly disappointing his little sister.

"This is not working out... you promised to take your meds."

"It's the wrong med! Please call your mom and ask her!"

Christian rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly; he couldn't believe he was having this conversation. What on earth had he gotten himself into?

"Are you freaking kidding me? She's not on- call tonight. And even if she were, you're not in any condition to question doctor's orders...you are leaving me no choice but to terminate our contract."

Ana gasped. When she spoke again, her tone carried a tone of defeat.

"Please don't. I will do what I promised...I just wanted to be treated with dignity and respect. Do you know what it's like to have no rights over your own body?"

Christian thought of how Elena

had taken over every aspect of his life when he was only fifteen. And even though the woman had been later convicted by a court of law, he genuinely believed that Elena's actions had served him well in the long run.

He hoped that one day, Anastasia would understand she needed someone to take charge of her life. She'd taken a big tumble, and he, Christian Grey, had been called to save her. He was a big believer in destiny.

"Anastasia," he began as if talking to a small child. "Let's make one thing clear. You're in a psychiatric hospital; that means you're not in control. It's a paradox, I know, but the only way to get your life back is to do as you're told."

In the silence that followed, Christian ran his hand over his hair and imagined her face as the sobs overtook her slender body. Closing his eyes, he imagined her face as though she was right there with him. She was like a rose with sharp, hidden thorns. It struck him that the thorns were part of her package...so he couldn't blame her for having thorns, could he?

"There's a policeman," she wailed, and his eyes flew open. "He's standing over me. Don't touch me!"

"Anastasia, calm down!"

Don't touch me!" She cried over and over again.

Christian held his breath. Anastasia's over-the-top reaction meant only one thing. Once upon a time a rascal in uniform had inflicted physical or psychological wounds when restraining her. Fuck. This was definitely over his head.

"Okay, listen, put the phone on speaker, and let me talk to the head nurse."

The nurse explained to Christian the security guard was there to ensure compliance and assured him that he would not employ unreasonable use of force.

"Anastasia, am I on speaker?'

"Yes."

"I don't know what happened to you in the past. But here in the present, that man in uniform is not a cop. You're not in jail; you're at a hospital.

He's there to make sure you're safe."

"I don't want him to put his hands on me!

"Okay, he won't hold you down, I promise. Just let the nurses give you the shot on your arm, and he won't come near you."

"I...don't know..."

"Anastasia, listen. This will be over quickly. They're going to give you a quick injection. Just cradle the phone to your ear and hold out your arm. You can do it...come on."

Short silence.

"They're looking at me funny."

"Ignore them. When you're at my house tomorrow, their opinion of you won't matter..okay?"

"Okay..."

"Are you holding out your arm?"

"YES! I'm sitting on the floor with my head down. I don't want to look."

Christian imagined her crouching on the floor, hiding her face between her knees, and clutching the phone to her ear.

"Good. Now, stay still; it will be over in a second. Is it over?"

"It's over."

"Good, good," he smiled, "you did it."

"Everything okay now?" She mumbled. The raw vulnerability in her voice took his breath away. "When are you coming to get me?"

"Tomorrow after seven. Get some good rest tonight...and then take your meds in the morning. That's all you need to do."

"YES," she said, her tone sounding calmer and more settled, "Thank you, Christian. Thank you for giving me another chance."

Christian's ego received an instant ego boost. He was giving Anastasia a new lease on life, and he felt good about that. Ever since he'd been rescued as a small child, his life had been about paying it forward. That's why he sponsored public service campaigns to raise human trafficking awareness. His good deeds certainly made up for a multitude of sins.

"Just make it through tomorrow, and then you can thank me."

In the background, Christian heard the nurses talking to Ana.

"They're asking me for the phone back."

"Okay. Good night, Anastasia. Hang in there if counting sheep doesn't work. Tomorrow night, you will be resting in a comfy bed with no nurses bothering you all night to check your blood pressure."

"Good night", Ana replied. He heard the smile in her voice, which made him smile in return.


…...

The following evening

"Mr. Grey, she's been asking for you every five minutes," the nursing staff told him after handing him a stack of papers to sign.

Christian nodded while studying the papers, glad to hear she was ready.

"Wishing you the best of luck," one of the younger nurses said sarcastically, "you're gonna need it."

"Yeah," a matronly nurse agreed, "that girl is willful, the type that's clever enough to sneak in and carefully steal a diamond."

Christian raised a brow. Some call it willfulness, others call it self-determination; it was all in the eyes of the beholder.

"I was here the first day they brought her in," the younger nurse continued, " I thought she belonged in a residential facility. But, she's clever alright. Don't know how she did it, but somehow, she recruited the other patients in creating diversions...all so she wouldn't have to take her meds."

Christian handed over the papers to the head nurse. "Where is she?" Christian said in a way that clearly expressed low tolerance for gossip.

As if on cue, the door to Ana's room opened, and he caught her gaze. Her eyes were eager, but the eagerness looked fragile while she stood there like a porcelain doll frozen in time. And yet, there was an inner fight in her eyes, a sharp contrast to her appalling attire.

"Anastasia. I thought you were ready to go." He frowned, bridging the distance between them.

"I'm ready," she breathed, meeting his gaze, her hair pinned in a cute messy bun. She was clad in the same pair of worn-out tights from the other day and a top that had clearly seen better days.

His frown deepened. "Looks like you need time to change," he mumbled, staring at her socked feet. "Where are your shoes?"

Ana looked up at him in confusion. "I don't have anything else to wear..."

At once, Christian pinned the nurses with a glare. "What happened to her change of clothes?"

The nurses exchanged confused looks.

"My assistant brought a bag full of clothes a couple of days ago."

The matronly nurse rummaged through the drawers and shelves behind the nursing station.

"I found it," she announced, setting a large plastic bag on the counter.

"I don't understand. Why didn't anyone give it to Ms. Steele?"

"We don't allow clothing with zippers or strings."

"Or shoes of any kind," the younger nurse added.

Watching Ana grab the bag from the nurse and dash off to change, Christian shook his head.

This hospital operated more like a prison, he thought.

Ana returned a few minutes later wearing a pair of low-rise jeans that accentuated her curves in all the right places, brown ankle boots, and a laced rose-colored top.

Christian blinked hard in appreciation and looked away to hide it. Her transformation from a nearly anorexic child to a stunning young woman nearly floored him.

When he blinked again, he was surprised at the exchange between Ana and the nurses. They seemed to be playing a reverse tug of war with the bag of clothing.

"Ana, they're yours to keep."

Ana's eyes widened in disbelief.

"She's right, Anastasia...those clothes are yours; they're a gift from me."

Ana frowned, "for me? All of them?"

"Yes."

"That's very kind of you," Ana said, biting her lip.

Another staff appeared with another paper to sign. Ana came to stand beside him.

"Where's Mia?" She whispered.

"She's waiting for you at home," Christian whispered back, shuffling papers.

Ana nodded and smiled a genuine smile.

"Hi, I'm Christopher," a friendly older gentleman introduced himself to Christian as he rounded the corner. "We met briefly the other day."

Christian nodded. "Let me guess... there's another stack of papers waiting for me in your office."

Christopher chuckled. "Nope, I believe that's it. You may take Ana home now, Mr. Grey."

Ana blushed and looked away.

Don't forget to take her to the competency hearing in 4 weeks." He then turned to Ana. "You will be missed."

In response, Ana leaned closer to Christian, her shoulder against his, as if to say, I'm with him now.

The gesture boosted Christian's ego. Perhaps his actions last night had earned him her

trust. Something about her reminded him of Leila, his latest submissive. The two women had more in common than merely a physical resemblance.

Christian offered his arm, and Ana was relieved to take it as they exited through the high-security doors and made their way to the elevators.

Keeping her gaze down, she stopped moving as the sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated their path.

"What's the matter?"

Squinting, she swept the floor with her eyes.

"Hey?!" He cupped her chin, and she averted her eyes against the light.

"It's okay," He murmured. For a minute there, it was as if Ana was Helen Keller, and he was playing the role of the Miracle Worker, spelling words into her hand, interpreting the world for her. "Your eyes will adjust to the light, give it time."

At last, she put one foot in front of the other. Once again, they locked arms as they walked.

"Up ahead, we're going to be stepping off the curve. See the black car? we're getting in the back seat, to the right."

"Okay," she mumbled.

"Anastasia, this is my PPO, Taylor. He's driving us home."

"Pleased to meet you," Taylor answered politely.

Christian opened the door for Ana and climbed beside her in the back seat.

"Driving home?" Taylor asked, making eye contact with Christian through the rearview mirror.

Christian hesitated, looking at Ana. The wind had blown away long strands of her messy bun, which reminded him of Grace's idea of taking Ana to Escala for a haircut and style.

"Anastasia, my mother arranged for you to get a haircut at her salon. Would you like to go now or at another time?"

Ana's eyes met Christian's questioningly.

"It's okay either way. I got some work to do on my computer, I can do it while I wait for you."

Ana opened her mouth and closed it again, and her lips wavered as if unable to form any words.

"I don't know," she murmured at last.

Christian frowned. It looked as though he would need to make the decision for her.

"Let's go home then," he said, "I'll drop you off and then head back to the office," he added absentmindedly, as though making a note to himself.

Next thing he knew, his phone beeped, announcing a text message from Leila.

Shit! She wanted to have dinner tomorrow night, and he panicked, suspecting she'd changed her mind about the abortion.

I'm not ready to be a father.

Not now.

Or ever.

He typed up a quick response. His mind became distracted by the warmth of her leg against his.

"Hey," he murmured softly, "how are you feeling? The light is blinding you still?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Is this normal?" She asked, worried. "Is there something wrong with my eyes?"

"It will be okay," he reassured her, even though he truly had no idea what was going on with her vision.


….

Once they arrived at the parking garage,

Ana relaxed, welcoming the absence of natural light.

"Are we at a mall?" She asked, and Christian let out a merry laugh.

"No, this is a building...a parking garage. An elevator will take us to my penthouse... can you see okay, now?"

Ana nodded.

"You're not secretly a vampire, are you?" He whispered with feigned concern.

"No. But, if I ever become one, you will be the first to know."

"I appreciate your honesty, Anastasia," Christian gallantly opened the door for Ana once they arrived. "I think, for now, I will keep my distance."

On their way to the elevator, Christian made the point to walk behind Ana. Their interaction had been borderline flirty, he realized. It hadn't been intentional; nevertheless, he'd enjoyed watching her reaction. Clearly, she didn't know what to make of it, and it was positively delightful.

"Ana!" Mia shrieked, enveloping Ana in a bear hug the minute she and Christian stepped off the elevator.

The scene touched him to the point of making his insides involuntarily soften

. He didn't worry about it; it was basic human instinct, the same instinct compels most people to pick up a baby someone abandoned on a sidewalk.

Christian held his breath as he realized that the word 'baby' was suddenly stuck in his brain

like an obnoxious song that threatened to lower your IQ by forty points.

Exhaling loudly, Christian thought of Leila.

This was no accident...she didn't forget her shot. She tricked me.

While Mia gave a smiling Ana a detailed tour of the penthouse, Christian decided to forgo his trip to the office. Instead, he headed to his home office and opened his laptop. It was nearly ten at night, but that didn't matter. Work was his go-to activity whenever he had any free time.

Sometime later, Ana pushed Mia's wheelchair into the room, poking their heads through the door.

"Christian...Ana wants her things back from her parents' house. She's asking for the phone to contact them."

"Tonight? Let's wait until morning," Christian tilted his head, "she didn't like the clothes in her room?"

"It's not that...she's grateful for the clothes...but she would prefer her own clothing."

Christian peered at Ana, standing shyly behind Mia.

"Thank you, Christian, for everything; I love the clothes," Ana sighed, "but they're not mine... they're not me. Besides, I need my things: my books, my phone."

There was something that fascinated him about Anastasia, something that made her one of a kind. Time and time again, he tried putting his finger on it.

At last, it all became crystal clear as he peered into the transparency behind her eyes. She possessed a certain candidness devoid of the cynicism promoted in our Western society. Doesn't she realize, he wondered, that in order to survive in this broken world, we need a certain level of suspicion and self-protection?

No doubt, human nature was so enmeshed with the world's brokenness that it couldn't overcome its propensity for evil.

"Of course, I understand." He then retrieved a cordless phone from a drawer. "Tell your mother Taylor will be by her house tomorrow morning to pick up your things."

Careful to avoid his touch, Ana took the phone and dialed her mother. While she spoke, Christian studied her with interest.

Ana's tone became increasingly tense and flustered.

Exasperated, she put the phone on mute and addressed Christian.

"My mother says she wants me to go in person to pick up my things."

"That's not necessary," Christian said.

"Mom...no...Yes, I'm eating and sleeping fine. Listen, I have a new job now. My friend Mia helped... What? No, I'm fine. No, I'm not going over there."

Ana furrowed her brow, staring at the receiver in disbelief.

"That's not how it is. Hey, no. Are you listening to me? I already told you. I have a job, and I don't need your help. My boss says he will send someone to pick up my things."

In the short silence that followed, Christian heard Ana gasp. What?"

She held the receiver against her chest, her expression bewildered. "My mother says she will only release my things to me and not to some stranger."

"She's being irrational. Tell her that's unacceptable and that she needs to accept your wishes."

"You don't know my mother; it's either her way or the highway."

"Mom, this is what I want. Mom!? What I need more than anything is time apart from you and Dad."

Christian and Mia watched as Ana listened for what appeared to be a long monologue.

"Wh-what? You can't do that!" Ana suddenly gasped, anger and confusion filling her eyes. "Okay...you know what...do it! I don't fucking care!"

In the next moment, Ana slammed the cordless phone back into its cradle.

Both Christian and Mia looked up from their electronic devices, startled.

"She...she's absolutely impossible!" Ana stammered.

"What happened?" Mia asked after giving Ana a moment to calm down.

When Ana spoke again, she looked more embarrassed than angry.

"She's threatening to throw all my things in the trash if I don't pick them up in person."

"And you told her to throw them in the trash?" Christian said with a critical brow.

"I know...it was stupid, but she makes me so angry I can't see straight."

"Well, they say no one can push your buttons better than your own family," Christian replied.

"I'm sorry you both had to witness that. I overreacted...I'm disappointed in myself for letting my mother get the best of me."

"I would get emotional too if someone threatened to throw my possessions away," Mia interjected.

"Anastasia," Christian said, "'I'm sending Taylor to pick up your things. I can ask him to call law enforcement if your folks refuse to comply," he paused, "if that's okay with you, of course."

"Absolutely...I'm tired of playing nice... I'm tired of doing right while the rest of the world does as it goddamn pleases."

Realizing she needed to amend her statement, Ana's cheeks flushed with an adrenaline rush.

"Actually, what I just said only applies to my own family. It's all about setting appropriate boundaries and telling people the truth whether they like it or not."

"We understand," Mia said, exchanging a look with Christian.

"I get that you were angry when you told your mother to go ahead and throw your stuff in the trash," Christian cocked his head curiously, "is this part of your new commitment to speak your truth?"

Ana smiled ruefully. "I don't think she will dare; she was trying to manipulate me. But...back to your question. Do you know why I ended up at a psychiatric hospital?"

"Are you answering my question with a question, Anastasia?"

"One day," Ana smiled ruefully, " I realized I had been playing the role of peacemaker all my life. I've made excuses for people and looked the other way. But I was a fool. I thought I had things under control...but I can't be responsible for what other people say and do. The only person I can be in control of is me. So, I told my family what I really thought of them. They couldn't stand to hear the truth... and they turned against me. My own family. It's hard to believe, I know."

"I cannot even imagine what it must be like," Mia said. "How do you even begin to heal a relationship like that?"

"There's no healing possible," Ana said with a steely gaze. "I don't want to see them again for as long as I live."

A/N: I appreciate your kind comments, keep them coming! Thanks.