At one point he did think he heard the baying of dogs. But as faint as they came, they faded away.
The next day he was worse. When he realized he was unable to get up from his post below the pine, a cold horror pervaded his senses. Maybe he would die?
He had wanted that before hadn’t he? Maybe this would be best? His own terms here more or less. He wished he wasn't still in a straight jacket though.
The night came again and he found himself shaking, from the med withdrawals or the cold or both, he wasn’t sure. His moments of lucidity were fewer and farther between.
At one point he realized he didnt know what day it was. He had no idea how long he had been out here, could have been any amount of time and he’d believe it.
Fever set in in earnest on the third day however. From there all he could hear were the dogs. Now baying in his memories as he watched them from behind the institutional glass as they went after other poor escapees.
—
A man was yelling.
“He’s here! I’ve got him.”
Alfie’s foggy eyes opened and he started like an animal to see so many of them. Men everywhere, some with guns, one holding the leather leash of a hound barking.
“Fuck still has the jacket on too.”
The one who yelled stepped closer and Fie jerked himself back with his final energy reserve. Days beyond clarity, he scrambled away from the man with pitiful coordination. Not aware enough to realize it was futile.
“It’s okay, buddy, we’ve got you, you’re safe.”
The man reached out and Fie cried out in animalistic fear trying to shrink further into himself.
They were going to take him back. No no no nonononono-
“Let’s get some help over here!”
Suddenly there were more hands grabbing at him. He lashed out with his legs trying to kick and screamed bloody murder.
“Shit, he’s gone off the deep end- I thought they said he was harmless!”
“Shhh– come on, you’re coming with us. We’re gonna take you home-” Someone whispered to him like a wounded feral animal while hands pinned his ankles for someone to shackle them.
His breathing intensified, ragged and desperate.
“We’re gonna need that needle for him. Can’t get him back like this-”
“You’re safe now-” The gravelly voice started again.
“Nh- nhhh!” He shrieked, now feebly struggling as the last burst of energy waned and his body began to fail him again.
“You’re sick huh? We might not need it on second thought- I think he’s fading fast-”
Fie choked on his own spit struggling, coughing pitifully.
“Slow down there, bud. We’re just taking you home. Gonna get you a good meal, a bath and fresh clothes. Sounds nice right? You want to go home, it’s nice there. You’re safe there. They will take care of you.”
This man- those words- “home”. Alfie struggled to focus enough to find him with his gaze. Why was he so tender but so cruel? He didn’t mean to be, Fie processed with his last moments in reality.
Hi I’m back :) and this one’s LONG and I’m proud of it. Yay happy holidays
***
“Merry Christmas, Alfie,”
His head had just been shaved again, lice were making their way through the wards. It made his cheeks look so hollow despite the paper crown that had been clumsily placed on his head by a nurse.
Words didn’t come right away to Fie so he nodded back to Sean. He was aware today though, Sean could tell.
Turkey and mashed potatoes were unceremoniously still strewn across his tin tray. So much for a holiday meal. Sean wished he would eat it though.
“Th- that’s why I’m wearing this?” A wry smile snuck in as Fie nodded to his flimsy holiday accessory.
Sean felt an instant warmth that made his heart swell and he laughed a bit too loudly, “Yes it's what they call it holiday cheer, although I think Eddie took the square of chocolate you got with it.”
The wry twist of Fie’s mouth remained a bit longer signifying what would be a strong response these days.
Sean had read the charts this morning, Harris’s crony, Capshaw, hadn’t given up on the hydrotherapy yet. He had been scheduled in for it nearly every day this week.
He was surprised Fie was okay enough to even be in the cafeteria considering his typical response to the treatment.
“Hey how about you eat a few more bites of the Christmas feast for me, eh?”
Fie’s eyes trailed down at the sloppily served bits of meat in tepid gravy and potato. But despite his hesitation, he didn’t disobey, he lifted his fork and got to work. It twisted something in Sean to see how easily he followed requests... when everyone else in the institution ignored this and acted like he was feral, immediately going for force before bothering to request.
“Also Sophie says hello by the way,”
His patient paused mid attempt to skewer some meat with a confused expression.
“My wife, I think I’ve mentioned her, she and I got married a few months ago, yeah?” That had been during the no contact stage.
This did seem to jog his memory, he nodded but still seemed surprised. Sean spoke about him outside of work?
As if he read his mind, Sean continued, “Yeah, I tell her about you, especially your paintings. She’s an art history professor you know… Anyway, she asked me to wish you a merry Christmas.”
Alfie paused completely, clearly half here-half somewhere else, lost in thought, “...What year is it?”
“It’s 1957 'bout to be 1958, buddy.” Sean didn’t like thinking what that entailed for his friend, nearly four years in here now. Where had the time gone?
He was four years older than Delano now.
“Merry Christmas, Alfred.”
Both young men jumped slightly at the arrival of Dr. Harris, how long had he been close by?
Alfie just stared back at him frozen, some of that old fear was returning as well.
Harris smiled, “I am glad the nurses are spreading some cheer,” and gestured to Alfie’s ridiculous hat, “And I am glad to hear that you’ve been trying harder to tolerate the hydrotherapy Alfred. That is brave of you as we all know how much it has frightened you in the past.”
Fie looked down at his plate ashamed. He remembered that. Over and over. A room full of people- him bare and being forced into water by so many hands. Harris watching…
“Dr. Harris, I hope that you’ve had a pleasant holiday?” Sean politely responded after a few beats of silence and an awkward cough.
“Thank you, Sean, yes. In fact I will be off soon, the wife and children are expecting me for Christmas dinner. Just like to stop in today every year. The holiday can set many of our patients off, I like to be assured that everything is under control.”
Sean agreed with that, many patients preemptively were given extra sedation today. It made him a bit sad but then he remembered the alternative- them suffering unnecessarily- missing family, memories, some even waiting for a visit from Santa Claus that would never come… It was cruel to them. Such a happy happy day turned cruel.
Dr. Harris gave Sean what was probably meant to be a polite smile, “Sean, would you give Alfie and I a minute? I’ll call you back over if you’re needed.”
An alarm bell went off in his head but he could only say, “Sure, Doctor,” And then glance to Alfie, who was still looking at his plate and walk to the perimeter of the room to join a few of the other orderlies.
“Alfred, please be polite and put your fork down and look at me.”
Fie dropped his fork almost robotically and wrapped his hand in the other in his lap.
“What else did I ask?”
He dragged his eyes up to the doctor standing up above him. He was wearing a red and green tie.
“You have children?” It came out before he even realized it, surprising both of them.
Harris smiled in amusement, “Yes, I generally keep my personal life separate, part of the profession I am afraid. Two boys and a girl. The eldest is sixteen.”
Harris could see the cogs turning in his patient’s head, new information about a man he knew surprisingly nothing about. He prided himself in being strictly a doctor to his patients, nothing else, no extraneous details. It was all about the patients after all.
He loved how painfully clear some of Alfie’s thoughts could be. And this was such a nice little Christmas gift dropped into his lap, especially since his initial plan was just to discuss water therapy again.
“I can tell you are surprised, what are you thinking about right now?”
“And stop picking at your hands.” He added with a touch of sterness.
Alfie’s worrying hands stilled instantly. His eyes looked bigger when they clumsily shaved his head like this. It was a shame they didn’t do a better job, he could have been a handsome young man. Even still.
“It’s just that you’re always here- I didn’t think- I didn’t know-” That he had children of his own? That he was someone's father…
It was natural that Alfred would see him as a father figure, it happened with a lot of patients, it was difficult to avoid.
“I know you see me as a father, Alfred. I’ve helped you and taken care of you, it’s natural.”
Then Fie looked surprised again.
“This is why you still need so much more therapy, you’re a clever boy but you’re not making the most simple connections related to your psyche.”
Fie wilted a bit and after a brief moment nodded back to Harris. Sean had told him to agree when he could, he said it would help.
“Now Dr. Capshaw will restart hydrotherapy again today- only one day off. If you cooperate in our next session when I return tomorrow maybe we can consider reducing those sessions.”
Alfie looked back to him and nodded in understanding. He really would like that. He was getting better at hydrotherapy but afterwards he still cried every time. And really anything to see less of Capshaw.
“That’s a good boy. Now behave the rest of today, the nurses have enough to deal with, and you don't want to be sedated- or worse get a lump of coal, on Christmas do you?” He said with a smile and bent over and ruffled his hat partially crumpling it where it sat on his head.
“Merry Christmas Alfred, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harris beamed in his good cheer and turned on his heels to leave the hospital for what Alfie imagined was a roasted goose with all of the trimmings and three smiling children.
Maybe he was a good father? Maybe he played catch in the backyard and read stories alloud by the fire?
A shiver went through him as he was lost in this thought, only to jump again when he felt a hand on his back.
“Just me, bud,” Sean’s voice rumbled kindly.
Alfie deflated a little in his seat, “He said I have to have treatment today.”
Sean’s eyebrows were creased as he came into his vision, rounding the table, “On Christmas? What do they say? No rest for the wicked?”
“Is that me or them that's the Wicked?” Alfie replied dryly but lacking the smirk a joke would require.
Sean elected to ignore the dour comment and move forward, “I was watching you though, you did a good job, I saw you nodding- agreeing- just like we talked about. I know it isn’t easy.”
“You said that before- at one point… I used to fight it?”
It was Sean’s turn to smirk, “Like a tomcat, a force of nature,” He replied with a tone of distinctive pride, “You really stuck it to them.”
“Sometimes I feel like I still want to…”
Sean paused, sensing the dangerous territory, “Fie, listen, that’s not a bad thing but-”
“But then they’d erase me again… I know. So I won’t.”
He sighed, “It’s just not fair, Fie. You should be able to fight and I should help you-”
“But it isn’t fair no matter what and if you’re gone...”
Fie was frankly amazingly lucid today. It was reminding Sean of how painful it could be when he was.... as opposed to the other special kind of torture of when he was out of it- this way he was aware of the injustice, the cruelty.
“You’re right,” Sean breathed out, feeling decidedly un-cheery.
As if reading his mind in turn Alfie responded with a wry smile that didn’t match his eyes, “Merry Christmas to us then.”
Sean then smiled bigger than he should have, “I do have one thing that might tip the balances of today…”
Alfie actually looked mildly curious.
“If you’ll do me the honor of escorting me back to your quarters, there may or may not be a surprise waiting there…”
Fie tried to suppress a small smile and nodded. He almost got up but then looked apprehensively at his tray, reflexively ready to be told to eat more.
“Clean plate club as far as I’m concerned.” Sean shooed him up gently with a smile.
Fie wobbled a bit and wasn’t fast by any stretch of the imagination but when they made it back to his cell Sean gestured inside like a prize show girl.
Fie raised his eyebrows when with a cursory look nothing was visible.
“You think I’d let the nurses take it home for themselves? Look a little closer-”
Alfie stepped inside as he had hundreds of times before. The only thing in the white cell was an iron bed with white sheets and a gray scratchy wool blanket.
He looked back at Sean, now really confused.
“Check the sheets” Sean smiled.
So Alfie did, tucked right within was a small bundle…
Alfie immediately sat on his bed with the green wrapped bundle on his lap and then just stopped, staring at it.
“You can open it anytime,” Sean reminded him in a teasing voice.
Fie looked up at him, almost surprised again that he was there, already so distracted by this new object.
But he nodded minutely and looked back down to the parcel.
It was wrapped with a thin red and white twine bow that he gingerly pulled loose. Before it fell away he rubbed it with his fingers, savoring the touch.
Gingerly, so gingerly he began on the paper. There was no tape so at his little tug it easily came away. First visible was a card.
“Merry Christmas! From the Cyril’s” read in cheery red script around a green snow covered tree with little yellow lights dotting it. Fie’s finger brushed slowly over the pressed inks. After a long moment, he opened up the card and something fluttered out.
Sean jumped over to retrieve it and embarrassedly spluttered as he handed it back, “Sophie wanted to give you a card but each one has our snapshot in it for family and friends out of town- it’s corny, i know...” his cheeks were red.
Fie just silently took the thick glossy cutout back and stared at it. It was Sean, that he recognized, but bizarrely out of uniform, in a knit button-up leisure shirt. And a woman beaming at the camera in his arms below him. She was so happy- beaming wasn’t enough of a word to describe it. Her hair was done stylishly in medium curls that swept off her face and her dress, even in the black and white, was obviously colorful and jubilant.
They were beautiful.
He looked at the writing in the card, “Dear Alfred, Merry Christmas from us. Good tidings and continued wishes for your improving health. With cheers and fond wishes, Soph and Sean.”
The script was decidedly ugly which unexpectedly made Fie laugh, scrawled with sharp points and careless dots and crossed t’s, somehow even that was amusing and warm.
“Oh her writing? I know!! Apparently the nuns used to use a ruler on her hands in grade school for it- she thinks she’s talented for it!” Sean laughed warmly.
Fie closed the card and smiled at Sean, “Thank you, Sean.” He couldn’t believe they would give him this, it was almost too kind.
“Well thats just the card! Look at the rest!” Sean replied giddily.
And sure enough, to his surprise, (as he had forgotten about the lumpiness of the parcel) there was more. First was a little pie, the size of a hand and absolutely delicious looking, then… a tiny notebook, again no larger than a hand with a little pencil fit into the spine.
Fie picked up the notebook, dumbfounded. Green leather bound with tissue thin pages turned over and over in his hands.
“Mostly for drawing…. If you ever felt like it when i can’t take you to the art room but also I don’t know...” Sean rubbed the back of his neck, “For remembering things you don’t wanna forget- important things-”
Fie shifted the contents of his lap beside him to jump up and hug Sean but clumsily more fell into him than anything.
“Thank you-” He mumbled into the warm winter uniform sweater, “Thank you.”
Sean held him securely, “Merry Christmas bud, you probably deserve a helluva lot more than this.”
Just reread your Alfie story and wow it’s so good! I love the way you write the slow decline of his mental state and I really hope he ends up ok 😭
Why does Dr. Harris obsessed over him? Is he like that with all his patients or just Alfie?
Thank you!!
Yes.. so young Alfred is evidently special... even Dr. Harris can't say for sure exactly what it is that appeals to him but it's some combination of his terrible past... his innate intelligence, his isolation (no more loved ones)... but most of all, his intrinsic kindness after all that happened to him.
Dr. Harris is just fascinated by him and he is the perfect possession because he knows Alfred can never leave.
Fie is back! I actually found a bunch of writing I never posted so even though my energy is down I think I'll be able to post a good amount over the holidays! Also unclear exactly when this is set.... I figured since it's unclear to Fie, it might as well be unclear to us. Is it a past event or recent? who knows??
In the arts and crafts room of Woodford Asylum sat a young man who did not know who he was. He didn’t know how long he had been there. But he knew he was bad. The doctors had told him he was bad. That he had done bad things and that he deserved to be here.
But he had been good enough to deserve this. So he clutched the paintbrush and sat in familiar silence as he worked on what he couldn’t get out of his head.
There was also a doctor in the room, standing by the door, carefully observing. The young man did not know this. After about twenty minutes, he put his hands in his white coat pockets and approached.
“Hello Alfred,” The older man greeted gently.
He was met with a raised head and a lost look as the patient tried to comprehend the new stimulus.
“How’s the painting going? I can tell you’ve been quite focused.”
It was painful to watch, that adrift look on patients’ faces when they struggled to grasp what was happening through their necessary sedatives. Remarkable though that he was still able to paint…
“May I see what you are working on?” He smiled and spoke slowly, hoping to be understood.
Alfie stared at him for a moment, sorting through the words before nodding.
The doctor smiled again and circled him to get a proper view.
His stomach plummeted at what he saw… There was a figure of a young man lying in a bed of flowers, little yellow ones- it could have looked like a bucolic late-impressionist scene in its tranquility… all except-
-The blood, dreadful stains of red covered the young man’s chest, and his hands and dripping out of his mouth hung ajar.
Dr. Grant put his hands on the young man’s shoulders and breathed out a sigh, “Oh, Alfred.”
Alfred flinched from the touch at first but didn’t move away.
“Can you tell me what this is?” He, at last, asked gently, so so very gently.
“My dream.”
Grant knew who this was of course- he had seen the crime scene photos. Stabbed and left on the kitchen floor. But the flowers- well… those weren’t a part of it. Did the boy even understand what he had painted?
“This is a dream? Do you know who it is?”
“Someone important- I th-think.” He whispered back.
Harris had been recording that Alfie no longer remembered Del, or what he had done…
“What happened to him?”
The young man’s lip trembled, “I don’t know.”
Grant moved to pull another chair up so he could sit next to the boy, “How often do you dream this?”
Alfie dropped his eyes, “Almost- almost every night.”
“That must be very painful.” This man didn’t relish the sentence like Harris would.
Alfie looked back up at him in quiet confusion, surprised by the sympathetic tone. It was painful. The worst part is that he didn’t know why- the pain had no beginning and no end, a swirling ball of unspeakable darkness because none of it had any explanation. Only that Alfie was bad, that surely it was happening only because he deserved it.
“Alfred, I think you should be done with painting today.” Grant held his hand out for the young man to hand him the brush, he did so obediently without a thought, used to being ordered.
Grant didn’t want Harris walking in and seeing what was coming from Alfred’s mind. He would say he was reliving his crime, maybe even reveling in it. Even if he had done it… which Grant wasn’t so convinced of- knowing Alfie the last few years, it was never something he would have meant to do. So there was no need to confuse him further.
He was so turned around he couldn't even remember the most traumatic moment of his life. Was that good or bad? Grant wasn't even sure...
"I'll make sure you get to paint tomorrow but for now, why don't you come to my office for a little bit?"
Alfie wilted a little at the word office. Terrifying conversations and forced sedation came swirling through his mind at the word.
"Don't worry, you don't even need to speak, we'll just have some tea. I can show you some of the paintings I have on the walls."
The boy swallowed and nodded in consent, even though somewhere far away he knew that he didn't have a choice. If someone asked him to do something, it was never a choice.
So he followed the kind man and hoped it wouldn't end in needles.
Do you plan to write the scenes of Alfie in hydrotherapy when he was put into the cold water and/or afterwards? I’d also love to see him with the feeding tube in too!
Masterlist
Set earlier right after the first hydrotherapy installment :)
Alfie’s eyes were closed, trying to keep the sweat on his forehead from dripping into them. He didn’t know how long he had been in the painfully warm tub but his head was getting cloudy and beginning to hurt with the pressure of the heat building. Just when he thought he wouldn't be able to bear it any longer, miraculously, the canvas started being pulled off. He looked up at the nurse and now two orderlies above him and found himself grateful when the two men reached down to lift him out. He wasn’t sure if he could do it himself now.
But their grips were too strong and in a pitiful jolt of fear Alfie realized they weren’t done- they were dragging him to a new tub.
“No-no-no-no, nhhh please,” Alfie tried to steady himself by grounding his feet to the tile floor.
“Don’t fight this, Alfred, it is a part of your treatment, it’s good for you.” The nurse intoned flatly.
The orderlies were now struggling to pull him forward, their strong grips slipping on his wet arms. If Alfie were less frantic he would have felt more ashamed at being manhandled while so bare and exposed. As it were however, the only thing he could think of was not getting into the next tub.
But while Alfie was desperate, the men were stronger and suddenly he felt his heart stop as he was plunged into ice water. The cold knocked the air out of him and dulled his thoughts like he had taken a hit to the head and stomach simultaneously. The staff took this chance to quickly pull the new canvas over him while he was still stunned by the cold. As the world came back to him he watched the nurse finish tying the last section of the canvas to keep him submerged.
“Please- don’t make me stay in here,” He was close to tears as it felt like his chest was caving in from the cold.
“This is for your own good, Alfred. We’ll be back for you later.”
Then they were gone and he was alone. The initial pain of the shock eased through him and permeated into a bone chilling frigidness like none other he had ever felt. And he thought he had become an expert in the cold, after so many bleak winters with threadbare hand-me-down coats, drafty bedrooms and dorms, and mornings up before dawn to work. His teeth began to chatter and his muscle started to spasm without respite from the overwhelming daggers of cold.
Time passed but they didn’t come back for him. He became completely numb and could no longer feel the ice cubes floating in the water around him. He started to wonder if he wasn’t experiencing time correctly as the shadows grew longer in the room but no one returned. After what had felt like hours, his vision became foggy and then dark, he vaguely recognized that he was losing consciousness and felt relieved. At least he wouldn’t have to be awake to bare it any longer...
---
“Alfred, Alfred, can you hear me?”
A voice rang against his head, it hurt. He opened his eyes and a familiar face was looking down at him, close and concerned.
“Get him out of this, now!”
The man was untying something. Canvas, he was still in the tub.
There were hands and he felt himself being lifted but didn’t feel anyone touching him.
“Go, get some towels. He needs to get dry.”
The man’s tone was urgent, ordering the blurry others around him into action. He was on the tile floor now, teeth chattering and his whole body shaking as someone was wrapping a towel around his shoulders while someone else was using one on his legs.
“Who left him in there for so long? He’s on the brink of hypothermia for christsakes.” Now the man seemed angry and Alfie half aware curled back afraid, he must be in trouble.
The man’s lined face softened instantly as he saw, “It’s okay Alfred, I’m Dr. Grant, do you remember me?”
The kind one, the one whose wife liked the Northern Renaissance.
Alfie managed a nod.
“Good, good. We’re going to get you warm. I’m sorry that you were left in there for so long, that shouldn’t have happened.”
The man looked away at someone above him, “Get him dressed into a bed with heating pads and extra blankets. He’s completely blue. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have lasting effects because of this.”
The man stood up and the orderlies were back, grabbing him and for a moment Alfie tried to fight them, visceral fear reminding him what they had done the last time they were picking him up.
Instantly the doctor was back in his vision, “Alfred, you’re alright. I’m going to make sure that you get warm. But you need to let them help you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He nodded yes again, he trusted Grant, he was kind.
“I’ll come check on you later but you have to behave and let them help you, yes?”
He nodded again, he needed to comply. So he went limp as the men lifted him up onto a gurney wrapped in towels and wheeled him out. In and out of clarity they dried and then dressed him in warm, dry pajamas that began to ease the pain that had reappeared all over his body as the numbness subsided. At last he was helped into a bed and told to get some sleep.
---
When he woke there were more angry voices.
“How did this happen?? They put a patient in serious danger, he was in there for hours, Harris, we’re lucky he’s in the condition he is.”
“I don’t think you’re in the position to question my methods, might I remind you that he is my patient as well as it is commonly accepted practice to use longer term hydrotherapy.”
“Longer term? You and I both know that can only be done with lukewarm temperatures, not with fucking ice in the tub.”
The second arched voice changed slightly, “Yes, I agree, my nurse clearly made a mistake but that is my problem to address with my staff, you had no right to interfere.”
The first thundering voice quieted in response so that it was almost imperceptible, “How long do you think he would have stayed in there then? I was doing my fucking job. I’ll let this slide, but if you endanger a patient like this again, I won’t hesitate to take you to the director. Your staff is your responsibility and what happened today makes me sick.”
More words were exchanged in harsh but low voices and then one pair of footsteps stalked off down the hall as Alfie could hear the reverberating of fine leather soled shoes. It then took another thirty seconds or so for his door to be opened.
Relief flooded through him as it wasn’t Harris as he feared but rather Grant.
“Hey Alfred, how are you feeling?” The man’s face was the opposite of his usual doctor’s, laugh lines etched in with wise and gentle eyes.
Alfie gauged him uncertainty though, it seemed like he had been so angry just seconds ago.
Grant clearly noticed his concern, “Oh, did you overhear some of that?”
He nodded wide eyed.
“I’m sorry, no one is mad at you. I’m just sorry what happened to you, that shouldn’t have happened Alfred and the hospital is dealing with it to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Thank you… for, for helping me,” Alfie responded uncertainly.
“It is my job, treatments can be uncomfortable sometimes to do their job but they should never be like that, what happened to you was downright barbaric.”
Alfie screwed his features slightly in confusion, no one had ever described what was happening to him as barbaric, he thought everyone here was complicit. They all seemed to think that his suffering was an unfortunate but necessary side effect.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“Um, yes, thanks.” He did, covered in blankets as he was.
But Grant was still watching him carefully as so many had before and he hesitated a moment before speaking again, “Alfred… has anything like this happened before? A different treatment gone too far perhaps?”
“What do you mean?” He was nervous, Grant seemed nice but he remembered that he had spoken to Harris about him before… and then Harris had been so angry.
“I mean, have you ever… well have you ever felt uncomfortable or scared like this before?”
Surely it was a trick question, he would tell Harris everything. But even if it wasn’t, Alfie already knew there was nothing he could do, he wasn’t Grant’s patient.
Either way, the truth would do nothing.
“No, only because I was scared, but I shouldn’t have been,” Alfie deflated slightly before he finished, “I just-- I just get confused.”
“Are you sure?” Maybe he was making it up but the doctor almost looked sad.
A lump caught in his throat so Alfie just nodded.
“Okay, well if you ever need anything, you can ask for me. You know that right?”
Alfie nodded again, inexplicably feeling worse than he had just a few moments before.
Grant stood and straightened out his white coat and knocked to be buzzed out of the room. To Alfie’s surprise he stopped once more at the door, holding it open before he left, “I know that this is all hard and confusing but you don’t need to stay here forever, Alfred, I think you can get better.”
He then turned and the door locked behind him leaving the patient to wait for Harris’s visit surely close behind.
This is set closer to the beginning of his time in the hospital. Hope you enjoy!
-
“Take your clothes off.”
Alfie paled slightly, “Um, I’m sorry. What?”
“You heard her. Do as she asks.”
He scanned the small tiled room that he, the nurse and the orderly had entered. What kind of treatment involved him removing his clothing?
“Mr. Finch, do you need help?” The nurse standing in front of him appeared clinical to the core, no nonsense and certainly no tenderness with her charges. She made him nervous, a lingering sense of unease with her stern and unfeeling expression.
His eyes flickered back to the orderly, trying to get a grasp on the situation, but his expression was of empty annoyance.
“Um, no. No thank you, I can manage.”
He had to strip for them every time he went to the showers (or lately, had been showered) so he should be used to it, he reasoned.
But cold dread filled him every time as he had to remove his only protective barriers in front of strangers. His last shreds of dignity, unceremoniously handed over to the hard faced nurse.
“Good boy. Okay, bring him on in.” The nurse glanced at her coworker and he took Alfie by the arm towards the other door in the room.
Any fight he might’ve had before he took off his clothes was now gone. He followed the man through the doorway silently with dread. On the other side, they entered a large room with a series of porcelain institutional bathtubs. Only one was filled.
“Okay, Alfred. This is hydrotherapy. You will lie in a warm bath for 30 minutes before being transferred to a cold one. The bath may feel warmer than you are used to but you’ll be just fine.” Her tone was flat and rote, an uninspired speech she had performed a few too many times.
The orderly pulled him over and guided him into the tub roughly.
The shock of the heat made him involuntarily try to jump out but the orderly was waiting to press him back splashing into the water. A moment later his favorite nurse was pulling canvas up and over the top of the top. Before he could comprehend what was happening the heavy canvas was being tied into place so that the only part of him left unexposed was his head, the rest of him hidden away and unable to move in the painfully warm water.
“Don’t fight it, just let the water calm you. Dr. Harris thinks you are overactive and prescribed this because you need to be soothed.”
His whole body tingled painfully as the temperature set into him. He looked up at the woman in utter desperation ready to beg to be let out. But the words never left his mouth as he registered her unnerving expression. Her face said it all and Alfie realized he was not going anywhere.
At least not until the ice bath in thirty minutes.
