PART ONE
𖦹 synopsis: patient reader doesn't know who she is, where she is or how she got there. she's monitored by scientist joel miller who knows much more than he'll tell her. how dedicated can joel stay to his cause when he falls in love with her?
𖦹 warnings: human experimentation, handcuffs, guards (implied and discussions of mistreatment by them), lack of privacy, surveillance, lots of crying, Stockholm syndrome, hallucinations, panic attacks, arguing, use of needles, suffering from withdrawal, extreme pain, yelling at animals, metaphors for struggling with addiction.
𖦹 taglist: @hauntedbymiller @sexiedeemedfreak @natanielkovack @saymony
no pressure tags: (interacted with my other posts so u might like this one !!) :> : @mcthsman @littledes1re @annastasia2055 @glittergrenade @foxispunk @moonlitsmile @bemyluvr @isabella-rose-trastamara @beardropascal @miss-celestial-being @ainhoetaaa @finco99
chapter one // chapter two.
𖦹 wc: 5.8k ( two part series )
FILE #365
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPTION]
- "This is Doctor code zero zero one, this is file three six five. Can you please state your name for the record?"
-
- "Can you please give a response for the record?"
- [incoherent]
- "Please raise your voice for the records."
- [pause] "I don't know my name."
- "This is patient code zero zero four version six five. Assessment begins at timestamp eighteen hours and one minute."
- "This assessment will be a series of non provoking questions to test your general knowledge and memory. Score to proceed?"
- [pause] "What?"
- "Score to proceed?"
- "Score?"
- "The subject's memory has seemingly decreased since the last assessment.
- "Score for the records. How would you rate your memory and mood before we proceed with the assessment? Ten is a perfect score, zero is the opposite. Score to proceed?"
- "How would you define perfect?"
- [pause] "I'm sorry?"
- "Is perfect a healthy memory or a lack of one?"
-
- "What are you testing for?"
[REMAINING AUDIO LOST]
File 365
Patient code 004 version 65
Doctor code 001
“Is perfect a healthy memory or a lack of one? what are you testing for?” you persisted.
He gathered back up his papers, dropping them down on the surface to straighten them out.
“That is your question to answer.” He was being dismissive, not wanting to sway you towards one answer more than another.
Maybe it was your question. What were you even here for? Maybe the test is to see what you think is happening?
“What’s my name?” you wanted to know everything you could, choosing to start off with the easier questions.
“Your patient code is zero zero four version-”
“My name. Not my code.”
He must've thought of you as stubborn. This version of you was much more curious and a lot less knowledgeable. Various commands were likely muttering through his ear piece, alternative phrases of how to further avoid the question.
“Like freya, daisy, mia. Real names.”
“What made you list those names?”
“Is one of them my name?”
“That is your qu-” “my question to answer, i know.”
He cleared his throat. You had never been this verbal before. You weren't afraid like you used to be and he didn't know how to handle it.
There was a new glint in your eye, a sense of hatred. It wasn't directed at him necessarily, maybe it was the machine recording the conversation that you hated. Maybe it was the security cameras or maybe it was the note paper.
You were convinced your name was written down somewhere. It was easier to try and steal the paper and find it than it was to pull it out of your subconscious.
“what about you?” you inquired.
“I'm assuming you don't mean my doctor code.”
“You know what I'm asking.”
He smirked at the passive aggression. This was also new. “If i tell you my name can you tell me yours?”
“But I don't know my name.”
“Lie.”
The machine’s whirring was a little louder. Maybe it was from the lack of noise you considered, but it felt different - like it wasn’t doing its job properly. You strained yourself to not look towards it, to not investigate. The session would end if you did and you had plenty more questions to ask.
“Lie? You mean I choose my name?”
“You can choose what I call you.”
“Are you going to tell me your real name?”
“If you like.”
The atmosphere had changed.
You felt as if you were going to gain an advantage which was a tell tale sign that you didn't actually have one. You were missing something, but you were far more curious about the information you were going to gain than try to get a proper read on the situation.
You stared in a request for him to do so, he gave you a small smile and a quick sigh.
“Joel.”
“Joel?”
“Yes.”
It felt harmless. You could tell he was somewhat embarrassed, a pinkish tint in his cheeks that wasn't there before. He clearly hadn't expected to like hearing you say his name as much as he did.
“And your name?” he questioned, making the deal you had even.
“Can you choose?” he shook his head in response, but it wasn't enough for you to give up. “But I want you to.”
“I can't do that.”
“Well, why not?”
“It is for you to tell me.”
He saw a glint of anger in your eyes, maybe it was just vague irritation and he was reading too far into it, he thought.
“I'm your lab rat but you won't give me a name.” or maybe he thought wrong.
He wasn't supposed to upset you. He had rules to limit the information you had and received which unfortunately came before your happiness. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate him, but he had a role to fulfill.
“I don't know which would be worse, if you called me a rat or a bunch of meaningless numbers.”
The resentment was building up. It was overwhelming even for you, the quick snaps between emotions but the consistent confusion, the consistent lack of information you had.
“What would you like me to call you?” he interrupted your spiralling train of thoughts.
“My name.”
He smiled in answer, fueling your upset further. It was a single piece of information and he couldn't even give you that. Did he enjoy your confusion that much?
“I’d have to think about it.”
The tension faded out, relaxing the furrowing of your eyebrows from a small sense of hope.
He saw your change in emotion, boosting his own enjoyment in the process. That was until he heard the static of the machine. The small red light was flickering unevenly, clearly no longer fulfilling its purpose. He hadn't noticed it the whole time.
Joel looked towards you to notice a hint of uneasiness, you knew the session was going to have to end before he even processed it himself. A frown formed on his face.
“Session end time at eighteen hours-”
“Stop!” you interrupted.
“I have to end the session for today.”
“That's not fair, I'm not done! I still don't know anything!”
“You know my name.”
“Thats not enough, i have more questions!”
He arose from his seat, you wanted to mimic his action until you felt the tug of handcuffs attached to your wrists. You hadn't even noticed that you were tied to the metal bars poking out from the middle of the table. Your emotions once again were rapidly switching.
“Session end time at eighteen hours and twenty six minutes. Abrupt ending due to technical malfunction.”
Joel made a note of it and you pictured a team of people listening in from a viewing window doing the same. He gathered all belongings and tucked his chair in.
The guards stormed into the room abruptly, heading directly towards you to remove handcuffs and pull you out of the room so that Joel could follow along after you.
He felt more guilty than he usually did. You typically didn't convey fear of anger, now you showed every emotion possible. You even wanted to keep talking, so did Joel.
The last thing you remembered of that day was calling out his name as you were dragged out, his attempted emotionless demeanor faltering as a guilty frown settled on his face.
File 366
Patient code 004 version 66
“How are you feeling today?”
There was obvious tension in the room, your glare gave Joel a twisted sense of pride. You'd wanted him to stay last session but he couldn't; you’d genuinely missed him. He shouldn't have felt happy with himself the way he did, but he held back a grin regardless.
“You want a score?” your passive aggressiveness shone through your words vividly. He nodded in response. “I still don't understand what I'm scoring.”
“Your mood, your memory. Everything overall.”
You watched the corner of his mouth twitch, gleeful with anticipation. The machine was whirring, working to full capacity unlike yesterday. His grip on his pen was slightly tighter, he was a little happier but much more tense. Was he nervous?
“Can I read your notes?”
“Can I have a score?”
You cocked your head a little to the side and let out a quick laugh. “Are you sassing me now?”
“I just asked a question.”
You lunged for the papers. ‘Patient code 004 version 65’ - last session. ‘Patient shows elevated signs of anger, confusion and memory loss. Persistent requests for personal information-’ He gripped it back off you.
“I wasn't done reading.”
“I am aware.”
You fiddled with the cuffs, a little tighter today than you remember them being.
It was probably your apparent ‘heightened emotions’ that caused them to take extra precautions. It sucked to be tied to a stupid table altogether, it felt demoralising. The whole thing did, and you still didn't understand a single thing that was happening.
In contrast, Joel stared at you expectantly, but it softened your guard just a little. The idea of being some kind of special gave you a sick kind of warm feeling, he found you interesting. He was curious. You wanted to feed into that.
“Can I ask you questions?”
“You may but I can't guarantee the answers you want.” he answered carefully and cautiously.
“Can you guarantee the truth?”
“I cannot.”
You bit your lip a little in thought before continuing. “Can you at least take these off me?”
You pulled up your hands, the rattle of the handcuffs against the table’s metal bar sent Joel's attention to them, probably waiting for an answer in his ear piece you guessed, as he scanned your eyes to figure out your aim.
The door opened abruptly, a guard walked through hurriedly. He looked exhausted, irritated. You sat yourself on the edge of your chair as much as you could, with full fear and heavy breathing you feared the worst. You yelled at him to stop, that you weren't done with the session. You felt a different hand on your shoulder.
“It's okay.” he whispered, standing over you.
You turned your head towards him, watching Joel give you a small smile and watched as he placed the separated handcuffs that must've been handed to him, onto the table.
You felt kind of pathetic, misreading the situation. Joel's hand didn't move, he wouldn't until he was sure your emotions were stable.
“Thought he was gonna take me.” you mumbled, sniffing and looking away from Joel, almost zoning out as you looked to the corner of the room.
“The session isn't over yet.”
“Well, it wasn't last time as that didn't stop you.”
He moved his hand, leaving a colder feeling than you started with. He sat himself back down, across from you and staring. You mindlessly stared, your words felt harsh but they weren't untrue.
“Do you dislike when the sessions end?”
Your mind brought you back to every time a guard had walked into a room, the dragging and pushing into walls, the yelling. The way they threw you around. More aggressive than they would be with even a science rat. They treated you worse than an animal.
Joel’s words were calming, sometimes irritable but there was still a lack of malice. He showed you different values than everyone else did.
You could only nod at him, the full extent of truth to the statement couldn't be expressed in a simple answer, especially when you'd just learnt that they were always listening in.
Joel arose from his seat once again, a hint of anger or determination in his eyes. He somewhat marched to the door and unlocked it. You had to turn in your seat to look towards him.
“Come with me.” he gestured towards the hallway.
“Am i in trouble?”
He shook his head.
The corridor felt a little different now that you weren't as terrified. However, the cracks in the aging ceiling didn't help to maintain your calm.
“The walls are blue.”
Realising he hadnt responded, you turned around to see him as usual staring blankly and confused.
“You didn't know?”
“I don't really get time to appreciate the scenery when I'm being dragged.”
Joel hummed quietly, more to himself. “Where would you like to go?”
You whipped your head around quickly in shock. “I can pick?”
“You may.”
You peered down either side of the hallway, no obvious indicators on what led to where. You were still too confused to revel in the new opportunity. Weren't you supposed to be monitored? Isn't that exactly why the session had ended last time - because they weren't able to monitor you properly? You couldn't verbalise this confusion.
While it was doubtful he had forgotten they needed to have a record of the conversation, you weren't going to point out an error in case it once again would put a halt to the session.
You stepped a little closer, using your tiptoes to reach and whisper into one of his ears that you noticed didn't have an earpiece, shielding your mouth as you did.
“Are they listening?”
He hesitated but nodded.
“Where?”
He opened the door to a room you could barely call a door with how it blended into the walls.
By the look of everyone's faces, this had not been approved. The looks of horror, confusion and intimidation. For once you weren't the one scared.
“Introduce yourselves.” Joel commanded the various workers.
There were computers, lots of headphones and obnoxiously large ear pieces that they'd begun taking out slowly as the conversation it played was now right in front of them.
You looked to the window on the left wall, showing the meeting room that you and Joel had just been in. you knew they could hear but you weren’t sure if they could see it all. The uneasiness refused to settle in your stomach.
Joel shot everyone a glare at their hesitancy, choosing to take initiative and introduce everyone to you himself.
Doctor White had white hair, Anderson was the only woman, and clearly the eldest in the room. Jones stared too much for comfort, causing you to lean into Joel and he held you closer in acknowledgement. He sensed your overwhelm after the one sided conversation, walking you back out of the room.
He absent-mindedly shut it harshly, leaning down to stare directly at you.
“See? You don't have anything to worry about. There’s no robots or aliens, we aren't here to hurt you.”
You couldn't respond, overstimulation creeping in.
“We monitor you. You know what that means? We look out for you, yeah? We take care of you.”
You shook your head, mental images of all the pain flicking through your head.
“No you don't. You leave. That's what you do. You care as much as you have to and then you leave.”
He reached his hand towards your face in an attempt to caress and comfort but you smacked his hand away.
“It's like I don't matter when I'm not talking to you. I feel like-”
“A rat?”
You nodded, tears brimming your waterline. He reached his hand back to wipe your tears, this time you let him.
“Do you want to see them?”
“See who?” you sniffed.
“The rats.”
They looked far more innocent, and much less free. Walking back and forth between their limited walls just as you had, until today. Pale white and loud as they squeaked in harmony with each other. One of them peered up at you, as if it could read your mind and feel your emotions.
Joel reached towards its cage as he stood behind you, unlocking the hatch and pulling it out.
You watched him stroke the rat, it showed no fear or hatred, it wasn't afraid of him either.
“Hold out your hand,” he instructed.
You followed his command, slightly shocked at the unfamiliar texture of its fur.
“You've met this one before.”
“I have?” you didn't look away from the animal, entranced by its movements from the palm of your hands and up the length of your arm.
“A long time ago. We did different types of sessions then.”
“What types are there?”
“That guy was involved in the sensory sessions. Various new objects each time to see how you responded and-”
“He's not an object.” your eyes squinted from his slight insult. Joel chuckled at your defensiveness.
“You're right, I should’ve rephrased.”
You nodded to acknowledge his apology.
“Would you like to keep him?”
You nodded profusely, finally a genuine wide grin on your face that Joel reciprocated.
“Our session does have to end-”
“No!” you halted, bringing the rat closer to you as if he had attempted to snatch it away. You stepped further away from Joel also.
“It has to-”
“No! This is exactly what i said! You leave me! Thats all you do!”
“Listen to me.” he put his hands out to his side in an attempt to ask for forgiveness. “It's not permanent. It's never permanent. If i always leave i always come back right?”
“You don't understand.” you choked a sob. “They hurt me, Joel. When they take me away from you, they hurt me-”
“I understand. I know-”
You scoffed, staring with complete disgust.
“You know? You let them do it-”
“No, but I'm not going to let it happen again.”
You tried desperately to blink away your tears before they fell.
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Please don't lie to me-” you let out a harsh sob, reaching your free hand to your mouth in an attempt to hold back the noise. You fell to the floor, kneeling as you cried rivers.
The rat was somehow unfazed, only looking up at you to see the source of the noise. Eventually it crawled out your hands, walking slowly across the tile floors as you continued sobbing.
Joel crouched down to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder and reach your arms behind his neck.
He held you close, letting you sob against him as he tried to calm his anger at the events that had unfolded in his lack of constant surveillance.
Once you settled down a little more, you rested gently against him. He retrieved the rat back and handed it to you, letting you continue admiring it while your final tears fell.
“I'm not going to lie to you anymore. I truly promise you that.”
File 367
Patient code 004 version 67
A hand startled you awake.
You pushed the shadowy figure away, scrambling around to push off the heels of your toes to reach the corner where your bed and the wall met. You braced yourself - forearms shielding your face and cradling yourself in the fetal position.
The silence was loud. no second contact or voices, just the sound of your own heartbeat.
You flattened your palms over your face, slowly turning to face the other side of the room blindly. you cautiously parted your fingers and peaked through the gaps. the same blank walls you'd been left with the night before.
nothing had moved or changed; unless you counted the sinking feeling in your stomach.
you tried to pull the covers tight around yourself. swallowing down the frog in your throat as you tried to maintain your calm despite the frustrating uncooperative behaviour of the material.
you pulled it out from under your limbs where it was stuck, beginning to rush your movements without being entirely sure why.
the abrupt sounds froze you in fear.
it repeated again, two knocks on your wooden door. do you open it? do you hide? do you-
he pushed it open and stared blankly at you.
“you okay?”
Joel was carrying a tray of various breakfast foods, stood awkwardly, letting the door shut itself. he placed everything down on the floor by your bed, movements slow as if you were a spooked animal.
his confusion turned to concern. your unresponsive wide blinking eyes held his as he sat beside you.
your chest rose with your deepening breaths, desperate to ask questions but an inability to do so. Joel didnt push, eyes gentle and patient.
you parted your lips to speak but its as if you had swallowed them, forcing only a choked sob out. pressing your lips together and gripping Joels shirt sleeve, you tried to regain control.
your blood ran hot. infection running through your veins like acid, melting you down and killing you in a split moment.
he placed his palm gently against your cheek, the same hand you were gripping the wrist of.
you punched at your own chest.
nothings working. fix it. please fix it. fix it.
Joel grabbed your other hand, protecting you from yourself.
his mouth moved but you couldnt hear him. you choked on your own breaths.
Joels chest rose in exaggerated movements, eyes focused solely on you as he tried to encourage you.
he shifted your hand onto his chest. very subtle but nonetheless there, you felt his heartbeat. you subconsciously mimicked his breathing.
“you're okay,” you finally heard him. and it broke you.
tears streamed down your face as you mumbled your way through an explanation.
“someone was here” you cried out. “he grabbed me- he grabbed me-”
Joel cradled your face in his palm, catching your tears with his thumb.
“No one was here, i promise.”
“I felt it.”
He tilted your head to look at him. “You’re safe. No one was here, okay? Its just me. Its just me.”
“I didnt see him but i- i felt it- i dont wanna feel it-”
He pulled you close to him to cradle you, to held onto him tightly. Joel was a little shaky, a hint of guilt in his grasp.
“I thought we had time- i thought it was working.” he whispered out.
Your body froze. Now feeling entirely claustrophobic as opposed to protected.
You pushed at his chest - just enough to separate yourself.
“Its your fault.”
Joels eyes widened in fear, occasionally darting to view the door. He hadn't locked it.
“Im helping you. Im protecting you.”
Everything moved fast. Your grip on the tray of food Joel had discarded on the bed and losing it happened in a second.
“Its not working!” you yelled out as everything dropped to the floor. Food and drink mixing as it ran down the surface, fitting into all the creases.
Your hands locked in the shape of claws. As if you were holding something, or about to scratch or fight.
“It will, it will-” he tried to reassure you.
You stared shell shocked at the mess you made, the way it went closer and closer to the door; leaving the room. It left the room. You didnt realise you were following it until you felt him grab the back of your neck.
A sharp prick before you fell to your knees, into his arms, his control.
“What did you do-”
“I had to.”
“No.” you slurred your words, vision sparkling as Joel tried to calm you, gently holding your face.
“Its too early, i didnt want to.”
“What.. what a-are you,” you sobbed once again. “Whats happening to me?” tears followed their routinely path. Joel stuck to his self proclaimed role of catching them.
“Im gonna get rid of them, okay?”
You could only shake your head. He was a liar. He had to be.
“I promise.”
“W-why?” opening your eyes was too painful, beginning to feel them swell in your skull.
“They said it wouldnt work. I-i knew it would. They said to leave you a-and i couldnt.” Joel began swallowing down his own sobs. A man melting from guilt as you layed feeling like you were dying because of him.
You mouthed the movements a few times before sound escaped you. “F-fix it. Fix m-me.”
**DIV
File 370
Patient code 005 version 01
“Can you state your name?”
The lights were too bright, burning an imprint in eyelids. You stared at the tiles. You couldnt really think of what else to do.
You heard buzzing. Maybe that was the light too. Or maybe it was the machine.
“Do you know your name?”
You looked at the table. It looked rusted, the metal bars you were usually cuffed to were gone. So was the machine.
You finally met his eyes. You mustve looked dead, body tilted in the chair as if you were fully willing to fall from it. Joel hadnt shaved, eyes red from exhaustion and fear. He was still scared.
“‘m not supposed to, arent i?”
Empty. You felt empty, and drained. Joels expectant eyes didnt fill you with betrayal anymore. You didnt care. You just wanted it all to end.
“What? You want a fucking score?” you spit out. He barely gave you a reaction when you wanted one. “no cuffs this time either?”
the muscles in his face twitched, clearly trying to hide any hint of emotion but doing the exact opposite. he didnt answer.
you shifted around to rest your head in the crook of your elbow, peering up at Joel.
You felt desperate to talk Joel's ear off rather than spend time in that dark room you knew you'd be left with.
he'd tried to remain stoic, following the idea of repetition to avoid spoiling the process. it was hard to maintain that idea when youd stopped staring directly through him.
“what file is this then?”
Joel hadn't done his usual robotic talking to the machine; ‘code blah blah blah’. he gave you full control of the conversation - which was frustratingly boring.
“file 370.”
you hummed in response. again, boring.
“can i.. see your notes?”
Surprising, he pushed them over to you instantly. plain. you searched across the files and the pages of his notebook but there was purely nothing. he'd taken precautions this time.
you met his eyes once again. practically shaking in his seat, eyes darting across various places in the room and table to avoid yours. had he always been this emotive?
“what is your problem?”
he refused to respond.
“what's going on?”
he took a deep breath, leaning forward in his chair causing you to jolt back in vague defense.
“how much do you remember?”
“I remember you fucking stabbed me with a needle and i-”
“you're not supposed..” his voice faded out seeing your expression shift again.
“what?” you pushed him to continue.
“You're not supposed to remember anything.”
File 372
Patient code N/A
You woke up to burning.
Eyes, limbs and blood. Malfunctioning as if you were a machine.
You crawled off the bed, sheets triggering every nerve on your body. The tiles were the only thing that provided comfort - a complete contrast from the acid layer you were supposed to wear as skin.
It was a humiliating need to press yourself so far into the floor, tears running down your face from the agony. Your hands clawed at the material.
It seemed to shift under your touch. Feeling like marble one second and wood the next. Regardless, it was cold. It was helping.
At least for the moment. Your body’s heat built up once again, limbs tightening, skull closing in on itself.
You yelled out in pain - as if exhausting yourself would lessen its power.
A faint squeaking was sharply poking at your eardreams, straining the pain in your head further.
You turned, eyes blurry.
The rat was yelling out at you, scratching slightly at the walls of its enclosure. Its noises were practically screeches, begging for help when you were the one dying out on the floor.
“Shut up.”
It was supposed to sound clear. A direct order, yet your voice failed you. Coming out as a mumble and slight drool leaving your mouth from the lack of feeling in your face.
The rat persisted - so you did too.
“Shut up! Stop!”
It was almost as if it got louder, to the point you needed to clamp your hands over your ears. The only thing you could do now was cry. Wail loudly like it would be of any physical help. You were still trapped in this stupid room.
It felt bigger now, more hollow but spoiled, dirty. Nothing like how it felt before.
The walls shifted. Cold, clean and close to you but now ruined, stained and distant. You pressed the heel of your palm into your eyes, forcing darkness and for your brain to make up its mind on where you were.
Footsteps creaked, light practically raced its way to your head in order to increase the pressure when he opened the door.
You rolled onto your side, facing away but still calling his name out. Even if you had to turn to the person keeping you here for help, it was help. Surely he could do something.
“Joel?” you sniffled, only now processing your running nose.
The moment you felt him begin to cradle you into his lap was when you wiped your running face, staring down at your hand and noticing the blood.
You sat up to face him, watching his worry practically triple from the look in your eyes.
He cradled your face. “It's okay, it's okay.”
You shook your head in refusal. “‘m bleeding, ‘m not - not okay.”
Your skull still felt like it was exploding, leaning down to rest on Joel's chest as you tried to mentally accept your fate.
“Bleeding? Hey -” he lifted you, interrupting you as if it was merely a sulk to have to face him. “Where are you bleeding?”
“My face, l-look.” you tilted your head up a little, thinking maybe that would make it clearer for him to see.
He caressed your cheek but just stared into your eyes with hesitant concern.
“Theres no blood, you're not bleeding.” His voice was soft, spoken at a low level like it was a secret. Or a lie.
“I am.” you whined, not happy he was keeping up with his usual antics of making you feel crazy.
He started ruffling through a bag you’d barely noticed he had brought with him.
He pulled out tissues, covering your nose a little too quickly, you jolted back from shock. You settled as he cleaned your face.
“See.” you commented. Joel cleaning your face while denying the presence of blood felt plain stupid.
He pulled back when he was done, presenting the tissue to you.
“I don' t wan’ that.” you mumbled, nose blocked up making it sound sickly.
“Look at it.”
It was damp from snot and tears. It took a second to process what he was showing you.
“You’re not bleeding.”
“I was. I was. There was lots i-i i’m not a liar, i’m-”
You closed in on yourself - body shrinking from expecting pain, covering your face so you weren’t witness to it.
Joel sympathetically pulled you to his chest, feeling your body shake as you cried heavily. Maybe even crying more when you felt him comfort you. It was unfamiliar. A physical embrace, one that didn't come with a punishment.
“You hurting?”
You nodded against his chest, clawing at his shirt. Noticing now that it was a thin material instead of his usual suits.
“It won’t be long. I promise.”
“Why?” you sobbed out, feeling your nose begin to run again with a liquid more runny than usual. Out of embarrassment, you pulled back.
He quickly placed a new tissue to your face, not questioning the state of you. It eased your insecurity a little.
“Can’t explain.”
“Why?” you repeated, tone more irritated.
You blinked heavily, the pain still persistent.
Joel's jaw clenched, eyes holding yours. “Don’t want you to hate me.”
Your throat tightened. You weren't sure if you already did. You also weren't sure if saying that to him would help or make the situation worse.
“Please?” you pleaded, watching as his chest rose deeply in fear of the words on the tip of his tongue.
For some reason, Joel’s body language was less hesitant, less cautious of you. You let him do it. Part of it was comforting but most of it was out of necessity. You needed answers. Being hostile had left you suffering clueless over everything that was happening to you.
Joel sat up to look directly into your eyes. You didn't bark or bite, you just held it. Like you weren't praying for the second you could leave him. He caressed your cheek with his thumb.
“Your memory,” he whispered delicately. “It's my fault.”
All your body let you do was shake your head. You knew there was more going on.
“I'm trying to help you. That's all I'm doing.”
“Why does it have to hurt?” a sharp sob escaped you, no longer able to filter out the pain.
You sobbed, hands holding over Joel's as he held your face. You forced a somewhat tight grip, you felt as if your only way out was to squeeze your skull - break the bones - to die at his hands.
“It hurts ‘cause I stopped it. I stopped it all.”
Guilt formed a lump in his throat as he couldn't look away from the red tint in the edge of your eyes. You were so truly suffering and he couldn't do anything to help you now. Not yet.
“Make it stop. Please.” you murmured.
“I want to - so bad.” he shook his head, eyes now watering. “I have to wait. It's the medication i-i have to let it flush out. You have to be clean of it all and then I can help you again. I've been working on new meds, I promise, it's not long.”
“I just want the pain to stop!” you cried out, feeling tears run down your neck.
“You have to stay clean.”
“Idontcare-idontcare I want it gone. Make it stop.”
“I-”
“I was happy before, right? Not always, but sometimes.” you sniffled, barely able to stay conscious, let alone care about your appearance. “I don't care if it doesn't work. I don't care that it won't fix me. I just want this - this pain to stop.”
“Listen to me.”
“No.”
“Listen.”
You shook your head, leaning down to place yourself against his chest. No longer able to hold yourself up, you gave Joel the role of keeping you together.
“I made you a promise when I took you here. I said I wasn't gonna be like everyone else. I was going to help you. I wasn't gonna give up - I'm not.”
He rocked you back and forth gently, hoping to ease you into sleep.
“You were happy. You were happy with me, you trusted me.” he sniffled, choking down sobs or failing to, you couldn't tell. “You loved me.”
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