My Silent Partner

Chapter Five: Spread the Word, Pass It On

JD knew he was crazy when he had stolen a scalpel from the supply closet while wheeling himself around the ICU for "fresh air". No one had really looked twice at him, and Dr. Taylor had even endorsed it, citing that he did need to get out of that room.

JD smirked to himself at that. Dr. Taylor was a self-important woman who had a lump three feet above her ass that she claimed was a head.

The metal thing in his hand felt ugly to him now though, and he stared hard at it, debating what he was thinking about doing. Hell, he hadn’t even done anything yet, and he already knew he wanted to. He closed his eyes a moment, remembering as he had dug nails into his palms; bitten his own lip until blood had filled his mouth.

That night, before his "evening stroll", he had pushed on the wound in his side until it screamed at him in howled indignation. JD had smiled as it had throbbed.

He smiled now in the darkness, metal flashing from a streetlight that refused to be shut out from his room. He held it gingerly, having held one so many times before in different situations.

And he was still debating when his door opened.

Perry gently pushed the door, hobbling on the single crutch he had been using to get around for his leg’s injury. His other hand wasn’t supporting a second one, and it also hadn’t responded well to maneuvering a wheelchair. It was just as well, as Perry would have walked without any assistance before he let himself be in a wheelchair.

He heard JD rustle in the bed, and then the clap of a drawer being closed.

"Newbie? You awake?"

JD gestured him in.

Perry shut the door behind him and hobbled over to the bed. He sat down on it with a huff of relieved ease. He then turned his gaze to the pale, slightly anxious face staring back at him.

"Why aren’t you talking to anyone?" Perry asked as he resisted the urge to touch the kid. It wasn’t enough to see him, wasn’t enough to look at him…it was never enough. "They’re only going to keep you longer."

JD kept his mouth shut stubbornly as he crossed his arms and glared at Perry angrily. He used his hand to knock against his head in a "duh" motion.

"You’re not going to talk to me either, are you?"

JD shook his head as he leaned back in the sheets, keeping his hands to himself as well. Perry had left him, not the other way around.

"Newbie…we’ve got to move past this somehow. We can’t keep going like this. And you know it."

JD shook his head stubbornly, trying to shove out the memories that his words were bringing back.

Perry didn’t seem to want to say anything more, and just sighed in the darkness.

JD sighed at him then, arms coming from his chest as he relaxed. He felt his hand bump against Perry’s, the relief washing over him just as hard as it ever did.

"Deciding to talk isn’t the same as accepting it and moving on."

Perry’s head jerked up at JD’s voice. "I am trying to move on," he pointed out.

JD snorted. "By cutting off everyone and thinking you can forget? Why’d you come here tonight, Perry?"

Perry didn’t answer, face shifting in the dim room and revealing exactly why. He'd come because he was tired of feeling sick and lonely in the cold hospital room, and exhausted from the emotions that he couldn't express anymore.

"That’s what I thought." JD thought of the scalpel in the drawer, and settled for using his free hand to twist at his side. "The more you yell at that doctor, the more she’s going to keep thinking you were barely a victim at all."

"I’m not a victim." Discomfort and anger ran through Perry at the term. He wouldn’t be a victim, never again. "Something happened to me, but that doesn’t mean I have to wallow in it forever and talk about my feelings over it."

JD looked at him tiredly. "You have to accept it."

"I don’t."

"So you want to yell at me because I don’t want to talk but you’re not willing to accept it yourself?" JD pointed out dully.

"It’s not the same thing," Perry muttered uncomfortably as he drifted his fingers over JD’s hand.

"It’s the exact same thing, and you know it," JD retorted. "I won't bitch at you about being a jack-ass if you don't yell at me about not speaking."

"So I'm a jack-ass and you're just "not speaking"?" Perry asked, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

JD shrugged. "It fit."

"I can't deal with this, Newbie," Perry finally muttered angrily. "I just can't."

"It doesn't mean you have to leave me alone to try and do this by myself." JD looked up at him, his eyes luminous and watered in the dark room. "I can't do this all on my own."

Perry sighed, eyes never leaving JD's gaze. There were things he wanted to say that he couldn't, and expressions that couldn't force themselves verbally past his dry lips. He suddenly grabbed JD's hand, holding onto it as if it were the only thing keeping him down to earth at all.

"I didn't do anything to you," Perry suddenly muttered fiercely.

JD nodded, the words stuck in his chest.

"I couldn't do that to you," the older man went on awkwardly. "Not like that, Newbie." He looked up, his face giving desperate askance for the confirmation he frantically needed. "I didn't, did I?"

JD felt something inside of him hurting so badly that he wanted to scream as he surveyed the awful look on Perry's face, and he squeezed Perry's fingers gently.

"No." JD picked at the sheets with his free hand. "Why'd you leave in the first place?"

"I can't do this on my own either, Newbie." Perry hated the way his voice was harsh and raspy, but he couldn't control the ache in his chest that threatened to pull him apart from the inside out. "Christ, I really want to though."

JD shrugged, words no longer important to him as he slowly tapped something to Perry's hand.

Perry stared at him, fear and confusion drifting across his face unconsciously as he stared at JD. After a moment more of silence and stillness, he also tapped a response.

JD didn't smile; smiling seemed awful for some reason. He did, however, keep his eye contact with the older man as he leaned back in the blankets.

JD would remember the next thing for a long time to come. Perry suddenly shifted in the chair, and maneuvered his form onto the bed, head dipping into JD's chest to listen in a quiet intensity of emotion that went lost on them both.

Perry slowly listened to the soft heartbeat beneath his ear. He'd heard enough heartbeats to last him a life time, but it was different now. The steady thumping grounded him once more, and he wasn't alone anymore in a dark room where no one understood.

He hated being this weak; the frustration and anger were enough to send him into a tailspin of rants. The moment he tried to voice them, however, they died upon his lips and made his mouth feel as if someone had shoved a beach ball into it.

Perry looked at JD again without something to say, but his mouth still hanging open as if he had meant to.

JD shrugged, mostly because he understood what it was that Perry wanted so desperately to say.

XXXXXXXXX

Dr. Kelso read over Dr. Taylor’s write-ups shiftily. He wasn’t sure he trusted the woman, though she had never steered wrong in the past. She was a decent psychologist at best, but never outstanding.

Still, she didn’t seem to have made any mistakes in her work-ups of both men.

Even so, Dr. Kelso put the two files down and looked up at her gruffly. "What makes you think so strongly that Perry had much to do with this?"

Dr. Taylor pulled out Thomas Alexander’s file. "The man they both claim was there hasn’t shown any prior acts of this much violence or terror. If both Dr. Dorian and Dr. Cox were telling the truth, that would make Thomas a very raging man. According to his history, he’s never shown signs of becoming quite that violent or sadistic."

"He did kill a nurse, Dr. Taylor. Or have you forgotten?"

"Who’s to say that he wasn’t provoked?" Dr. Taylor retorted simply. "And you know as well as I that even the meekest of men can become violent if properly triggered. You’ve known Dr. Cox for years, Bob, and you can’t tell me that he’s one of the more…gentler doctors around here when it comes to delicate mental cases."

"There’s still the evidence of abuse on both of them."

"I never said neither man wasn’t abused," Dr. Taylor replied defensively. "You’ll see that I marked it both on their files. However, I think the trauma of that may have sent Dr. Cox into a rather violent tailspin of his own. And we both know that he is prone to showing his displeasure of a situation by acting out physically." She raised an eyebrow. "Or are we just letting go of the fact that he’s destroyed at least five labs and a classroom?"

Dr. Kelso grunted a reluctant agreement. She had a point. "How is Dr. Dorian coming along then?"

"Since his brother left, I think he’s doing better," Dr. Taylor replied as she finally took a comfortable seat across from Dr. Kelso. "And that was another thing I wanted to bring up."

"What’s that, Carol?"

Dr. Taylor pulled open Dr. Cox’s file again. "Normally, I advocate the support of family members and friends when attempting to recover. I do, however, think Dr. Cox’s recovery might go more smoothly if he didn’t see his child quite so much. I also think that there might be a bit of damage being done to the child by exposing him to a man in Dr. Cox’s state."

Dr. Kelso once again found himself between a rock and a hard place. The woman had a point, though he doubted the boy was in that much danger.

"But it’s not so much his son that I’m worried about as I do his sister. Dr. Cox tends to become much more agitated and uncooperative when she’s visited."

Dr. Kelso didn’t pretend to know what Perry’s beef with his younger sister was, but it wasn’t something he cared to explore either.

"I’ll think about it," Dr. Kelso finally replied, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed one of the two doctors back; they were shorthanded as it was. He didn’t envy trying to find a temporary replacement, though from what he’d seen of Perry’s x-rays, there was a good chance that Perry wouldn’t be returning at all. "Do you have a time estimate for when either of them might be ready to return to work?"

Dr. Taylor gave him a horrified look. "You can’t already be thinking about that, can you? Dr. Dorian still isn’t speaking, and I wouldn’t put a patient within ten feet of Dr. Cox, even if they needed emergency attention."

Dr. Kelso shrugged. "Be that as it may, Dr. Dorian will be ready physically to go home soon. His final surgery for his ankle is this afternoon, and the GSW he took to the side is looking just fine without signs of infection."

"He’ll still need intensive therapy."

"Which you may offer to him once he’s left, but he’s not obligated to continue therapy under your watch," Dr. Kelso pointed out. "And neither is Dr. Cox."

Dr. Taylor grimaced. "I think for either of them to switch therapists right now would be a mistake."

"Why are you taking such an interest in this, Carol?" Dr. Kelso asked finally. He was tired of hearing from her that certain people shouldn’t be allowed to visit, and he’d already ended up switching one of his best nurses to pediatrics for reasons he wasn’t sure he believed.

Dr. Taylor looked up. "Bob, you must be joking." She stood. "This is the case of a life time, and you can’t fault me for that. Is it any small wonder that I want to keep a hold of this case at all costs?"

"Just be sure that you’re still keeping the patients in mind. Once in a life time case or no, be sure that you’re progressing with them as you would any trauma patient."

"Of course I’m keeping that in mind," Dr. Taylor replied irritably, and snatched all three files from Dr. Kelso’s desk. "I’ll speak with Dr. Dorian’s physical therapist so that he can knock out his mental recovery sessions on the same day as his physical recovery."

Dr. Kelso nodded approvingly at that. It was always best to schedule both types of therapy together, mostly because it put the patient at the best advantage to want to talk.

Dr. Taylor clutched the three files to her chest as she made her way back to her office. She had a session with Dr. Cox later today, and if the man was still being disagreeable, she was going to need a handful of aspirin and a couple of antacids.

All in all, Dr. Dorian was the one she preferred working it, if for no other reason that she saw him as the most victimized out of the three men. Dr. Cox was simply uncooperative and belligerent, though she knew she was being slightly biased.

Dr. Taylor dropped the files off and flipped open her drawer to pull out a big bottle of aspirin and a bottle of pink liquid.

XXXXXXXXX

Dan spluttered and coughed as he rose from the water. Damn it, he’d passed out again in the bathtub.

Sighing hard, Dan reached sluggishly for another beer. He frowned when he realized it was full of both bath water and backwash. He kept pushing around the water for an unopened can.

When he looked up again though, he realized he wasn’t alone. Dan jumped in the water as he surveyed Paige’s pale face.

Paige sat on the closed toilet, reading a book. Upon closer inspection, Dan could see that it was a bible.

"I don’t know how you can believe that stuff," Dan mumbled, voice hoarse and a bit thick. He cleared his throat and sat up a little more.

Paige didn’t look up. "I don’t know how you’ve managed to sit in a bathtub for over three days when your brother needs you."

"The stupid psychologist won’t let me back in his room. She says he becomes "irritable" when I’m there," Dan muttered mournfully. "Even that stupid woman knows that Johnny doesn’t need me right now. He’s never needed me."

"And you say that I believe stupid things," Paige replied regretfully. She closed her bible and looked up. "Look, Johnny’s probably going to be getting out of the hospital soon. He’ll need someone to help him out and look after him. He’s only got you."

"He’s got Carla and Chris," Dan pointed out. He swished around the water and finally closed his wrinkled fingers over a closed can of beer. "Finally…" He pulled the can up and popped the top open.

Paige rolled her eyes. "Drinking’s not going to make this go away. Your brother is sick and he’ll need you."

Dan stared at her. "I can’t do this, Paige. You don’t understand."

"I don’t understand?" Paige asked incredulously. "You think that I can’t possibly understand how much easier it must be to just ignore everything that’s happened to both of them in lieu of pretending to care and help?"

"You don’t know what kind of family Johnny and I came from. Johnny can take care of himself; he always has."

"Perry can take care of himself just as much. It doesn’t mean I’m going to leave him alone."

"Why are you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your brother?"

Paige just stared at him. "I’m here because I’m trying to help you understand that you have to care too."

Dan snorted and sipped from his beer can. "I’ll promise to give a half-assed attempted at caring if you give a half-assed attempt at keeping your nose out of this."

Paige shrugged. "That’s how I thought you’d react." She stood and glared down at him. "If I were you, though, I’d pick my sorry ass up out of that stupid bathtub and quit feeling sorry for myself. This isn’t about you; it’s about your brother. I’ll promise to leave you alone if you promise to quit being an idiot." She slammed the door behind her.

Dan jumped as the door slammed and relaxed in the tub once more. He shut his eyes tightly and pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. This was just too much, and there wasn’t enough of him left to care anymore.

Sighing, Dan still knew she was right to some capacity. He sipped from the beer can again, even as his stomach rolled warningly that he’d drank entirely too much in the past three days.

Right or not, that didn’t make it any easier for him to simply stand up and give a damn.

XXXXXXXXX

Jordan woke slowly the next morning, mostly because Jack was pulling insistently on the sheets, and saying something in a plaintive voice that made him sound like his father.

"I’m hungry," Jack whined, and jerked the sheets again. He struggled to pull them down, but he just wasn’t big enough. Shoving a piece of his longish hair from his eyes, Jack fisted his hands on his hips. "Wake up." A nudge of fear had him yanking on the sheets again; Mommy wasn’t sick again, was she?

"I’m up, Jacky," Jordan replied groggily, still struggling to pull her mind to consciousness. Without thinking, she made to swing her legs off the bed, and frowned when not much happened as a result.

The week’s events came crashing on her again and she sighed hard as she rubbed a hand over her face.

Elliot woke beside of her with a mumble. "I’ll get him some breakfast."

"I can do it, Stick. Butt out; he’s my kid." Jordan sat up again, and this time, she picked her legs up herself and dragged them off the edge of the bed. She glared hard at them; the bruises that had danced over the skin had begun to fade. Jordan turned back to Jack. "Just let Mommy go to the bathroom first."

Jack nodded and padded over to Elliot’s side.

Jordan picked up an umbrella that she’d been keeping beside of the bed, and used the handle to pull her wheelchair forward. She hated the wheelchair, and hated even more the helplessness that came along with it.

Elliot sat up, and rubbed a hand affectionately over Jack’s head. "Maybe we’ll go see Daddy today. How’d you like that?"

When Jordan wheeled herself into the kitchen, Jack was snacking happily on waffles, and Paige and Elliot were quietly discussing going to see Perry later that morning.

"I have to work until ten tonight," Elliot concluded. "I think Dr. Cox would love to see Jack today."

Paige blew a strand of hair from her eyes irritably. "I don’t guess you’d happen to have any advice on dealing with the older of the Dorian brothers, would you?"

Elliot drank from her cup of juice. "Is he sitting in a bathtub again?" At Paige’s nod, Elliot snorted. "Sounds like Dan. Just give him a few days."

"He’s already been in for four. I’m worried that the water might be disintegrating what few brain cells he may have left. That or the beer."

At Paige’s vague vehemence, Elliot looked up with interest. "The last time he did this, Dr. Cox was the one who got him out."

"Fat chance of that happening," Jordan commented, watching in slight amusement as both women jumped. "Blondie, I said I’d get Jack’s breakfast."

"You were busy," Paige replied before Elliot could comment. "So I did it."

Elliot slowly stood, wanting to edge out of the room before Jordan could tear into her. "I’ve got to shower and get to work." She fairly sprinted out of the room.

Jordan glared at Paige. "I can take care of him to some extent. Don’t rob me of the few things I can still do for him."

"There’s no need for you to be so defensive." Paige scooped up her plate and Elliot’s. "I’m just helping out, and you should take it where you can get it."

Jordan rubbed her hand over her face again, struggling to think of a way to communicate the helplessness she felt, and the frustrated anger that was currently streaming through her.

Paige pulled a chair up, keeping half an eye on Jack. "I can’t understand how it feels to be stuck in that chair. But I do understand how frustrating it must be."

Ah, there it was, and Jordan shut down almost visibly. "I’m fine." She wheeled over to Jack before Paige could reach her. "Morning, Jacky. How’s your waffles?"

Paige sighed and leaned back in her chair. She didn’t pray for strength, or even the power to deal with all of this as it came to her. She did, however, pray for the patience to not wring the neck of the next person who ticked her off.

XXXXXXXX

JD wasn’t sure what made him wake in the terrified manner that he did, but he understood he sure as hell wished he hadn’t a moment later. He wasn’t surprised that Perry was gone; it was only intelligent with people like Dr. Taylor running around.

What did shock him were the restraints that had kept his limbs to the sheets again. His first instinct had him jerking at the padded cuffs on his wrists, knowing that if he yanked with his legs, he could possibly damage his ankle further.

"What were you doing with this, Dr. Dorian?"

JD jumped at the smooth, female voice, and turned his head to Dr. Taylor. She held the scalpel in her hand with an accusatory look on her face.

"I know that Dr. Cox was in here last night," she went on in an almost conversational tone. "And you know that it goes against my orders for your recovery."

JD didn’t answer her, his face furious and red.

"And we can’t release you if you’re a danger to yourself," Dr. Taylor concluded, placing the scalpel on the bedside table. "Dr. Dorian, why won’t you speak to me? I’m only trying to help."

JD still didn’t respond, and glared dejectedly out the window. He wished he had the black hoodie back to throw over his face. She’d turned the lights on in his room, and they were hurting his eyes and making his stomach feel nauseous.

He wished even harder that Perry could be in the room too.

"I don’t want to restrict your visitations so much that your brother can’t eventually come back, but you’re making it difficult for me to believe you want to get better. Your lack of response is worrying."

JD lifted his hand then and very calmly flipped her off.

Dr. Taylor raised an eyebrow. "That’s somewhat of a response more than usual." She stood, and for the first time JD could remember, her face seemed to change and slip into something a bit more sinister then he’d ever seen. "And I’m telling you this now. I can’t release you from your restraints unless you can find it in yourself to comply with your treatment. I know what happened to you, and I know that Dr. Cox wasn’t just a victim in this. You’re free, of course, to try and combat that all you want to, but the signs point elsewhere."

Dr. Taylor leaned over to him, noting in her mind how he shrank away in sudden fear. "And I’ll just have to give you some time being restrained again until you can come to understand and accept what’s happened." She stood again.

JD squirmed under her gaze, discomfort and sickness washing over his face and fingers as he tapped furiously against the blankets. He watched as she left, taking the scalpel with her.

Perry was restrained similarly in his own bed, though he wasn’t surprised. After all, it had been his own fault for falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion in JD’s room again. He jerked uselessly at one, but gave up almost immediately after.

He had leaned his head back in an effort to get some sleep when a terrified, frustrated scream sounded down the hallway.

Perry jerked his head to the door with a frown. Maybe he was just imagining things again.

XXXXXXXXX

"Are you crazy? He needs to see his kid; his kid’s the only reason he started talking again in the first place!" Paige snapped angrily.

Dr. Taylor stood her ground firmly. "And he’s also less cooperative after he’s visited either of you. I’m going to have to ask you to either leave or find another patient to visit."

"He’s my brother; I’ve got a given right to see him!"

"No, you don’t," Dr. Taylor replied simply. "I think you’re hindering his recovery."

"And I think you’re full of it!" Paige retorted, and hitched Jack on her hip. "That’s his father; how much do you think you’re hurting Jack?"

"I think Jack is in more danger by being around him than not," Dr. Taylor pointed out. "Now, I haven’t barred you from his room yet, but I’m afraid I’ll have to if you insist upon going in there while acting like this."

"I’m not one of your patients, you jerk," Paige snapped at her. "And if I was, I think I’d have killed myself a long time ago."

The same frustrated scream that Perry had heard was now what Paige and Dr. Taylor heard.

Paige sidled an even, dangerous glare at the woman. "So how is Johnny doing?"

Dr. Taylor rolled her eyes. "It’s always easy to get worse before better. I’ll ask you again to leave before I have you escorted off the premises. Excuse me." Dr. Taylor left her standing there, and headed for JD’s room.

Jack frowned at the angry voices, and stared at Paige. "Going to see Daddy?" he asked hopefully.

Paige sighed. "Not today, Jack. Come on; I’ll get you some ice cream."

Ice cream usually made anything in a small child’s mind disappear, and Jack was no exception.

JD looked up after he’d screamed, almost immediately sorry that he’d done it. He was even more sorry when Dr. Taylor entered the room, fingers knocking against a needle to even the sedative out.

"No, I don’t want another damn sedative!" JD snapped, his voice angry and hoarse as he glared at Dr. Taylor.

"Good to see you still have the use of your vocal chords," Dr. Taylor replied calmly, and reached for his IV.

JD yanked away from her, wanting desperately to not have her touch him. "Don’t touch me!" he tried. "I don’t want you touching me!"

Dr. Taylor backed away at the jerked arm, and then firmly held his wrist down to inject the sedative. JD howled at her indignantly, and watched with furious terror as she injected the clear liquid into his IV.

"Just leave me alone; I want Perry in here now."

"I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dr. Dorian. He’s the reason you’re in here in the first place."

JD stared at her, dazedly grabbing a hold of her gaze. He suddenly frowned at her, and for the first time, noted her blue eyes.

"You’re nuts," he finally gasped, and proceeded to pass out under the heavy drug.

Dr. Taylor threw the syringe away, and followed up with her latex gloves. She sighed wearily at Dr. Dorian, who had finally stopped jerking around in the bed. Suspecting that Dr. Cox might be next, she headed to his room to check on him.

Perry was lying still in the bed, but looked up when she came in. "Piss him off again, did you?"

Dr. Taylor crossed her arms. "You don’t fool me, Dr. Cox. I don’t buy your half of the story at all."

Perry rolled his eyes. "Well, I always did say that anyone could be a psychologist if they thought they had half a brain. How’s JD doing underneath your care though?"

"I don’t know what you did to harm that poor boy so badly," Dr. Taylor replied as frustration finally wore through her usual calm tone. "But either way, you have damaged him so badly that he is still asking for you."

Perry didn’t reply to that as guilt and shame socked him hard in the chest. He had hurt JD. He had hurt him as badly as Thomas had hurt either of them, and Dr. Taylor had that point in her corner.

"And I’m going to do my best to make sure you have to pay for everything you’ve done to him and for your poor treatment of a mental patient of Thomas’s condition. You’re a doctor; you should’ve known better then provoke him. That’s what you did, isn’t it?"

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," Perry muttered. "Why don’t you go out and buy yourself a medical degree? Somehow, I think it’d be worth more then the one you actually went to school for."

Dr. Taylor only glared at him and swept out of the room angrily, slamming the door shut behind her.

Perry leaned back in bed, and glared out the window. The angry stare slipped off his face slowly, and he squeezed his eyes shut. A line of wetness trailed down his cheek, and he reached up in reflex to make himself stop crying.

But his hand stopped short with the restraint, and he tugged at it uselessly again. Another tear fell, and as he buried his face into the pillow, he struggled to tell himself that it was because his wrist and shin hurt.

It had nothing at all to do with the fact that real fear had dropped again in his body that Dr. Taylor not only had the power to take JD away from him, but she was obviously going to.

Perry struggled to make his mind work to his advantage, and tried to figure out why Dr. Taylor was doing this, why her misinterpretations were so far off base. Still, nothing came up in his mind, and he shut his eyes against the light.

JD woke some time later, and stared blearily around his darkened room. The sun had gone down when he pulled his head off the pillow, and he tugged at the restraints.

For lack of anything better, the fury and irritation finally combined to make him shake in the bed, even with blankets over him.

JD dug his nails into his palms again, and thumped his head dully against the pillow. When it came down to it, however, he only closed his eyes again and thought of Perry.

XXXXXXXX

Thomas tugged his baseball cap lower over his eyes as he entered the hospital. He had a job to finish, even if it wasn’t going to be tonight that he did so. Still, it paid to know his surroundings and quick exits.

As he entered the clean and brightly lit hospital, Thomas felt a sneer curve at his lips. It shouldn’t be this easy, some part of his mind pointed out. Another disjointed voice begged him to go back to the hospital in Arizona, where he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

Thomas shoved the voice down. The two boys weren’t supposed to live. They hadn’t lived when it had been him, and they weren’t going to live this time around either.

He’d see to it.

Thomas stepped off the elevator of the ICU, and began peering into windows until he found the patient that he wanted. He stopped, fingers tapping rhythmically on the glass.

Perry stirred at the sound of tapping on his door, and his gut twisted at the familiar rhythm. It couldn’t be; he had to be hallucinating again. Squirming on the bed in the dark room, Perry steadfastly shut his eyes, hoping that whoever it was would go away.

But then the door slowly opened with a metallic drop, and Perry struggled to sit up in bed as a figure entered his room, shutting the door behind him. The lights flipped on, and Perry felt his voice stick in his throat.

"Why, Peter Pumpkin Eater…you don’t look happy at all to see me," Thomas said amicably as he pulled up a chair.

"Get out or I’ll scream."

Thomas leaned forward, dragging a finger gently over Perry’s face. "Would you scream for me like you did before?" He looked at the bandaged arms. "Have you played with your cuts yet or are you covering them because they’re true?" He tapped Perry’s nose in an almost playful fashion. "But where’s Tom Thumb? I bet you want Tommy back in here."

"If you don’t get out, I’ll scream and then they’ll lock you back up in the hospital," Perry snapped.

Thomas blew that off too though, his composure calm and collected as he backed away. "Please. I’ve seen the woman that takes care of you, you know. I’ll just play exactly what she wants me to in her own diseased little mind." Then he leaned forward again, mouth a bare centimeter away from Perry’s ear. "We’re all sick, Peter Pumpkin Eater. It’s just a matter of how much each individual lets it show."

The lights flipped out again and Perry heard the door shut. His face white with terror and sweat dripping over his forehead, Perry leaned back in the bed. His stomach was swirling madly and his heart was pounding.

He couldn’t hear much over the roar of blood in his ears, but knew that he suddenly felt more alone then he’d ever felt in his entire life.

Continues with Chapter 6