Part 14
Tag NSFW/18+ Female masturbation, LSD, questionable medical practices, post-traumatic stress disorder, and obsessive-compulsive disorder
You spend a restless night where the present blends with the past. You see Eddie playing D&D with the boys. You see your mother walking you to school, with your perfect clothes, your perfect life. Your perfect grades. You see Brenner again, his haute couture suits. His icy, manipulative gaze. But above all, you see Henry Creel again. You see every nuance of him. His eyes. His hair. His perfect suits, his hands that you want on your body. His full mouth that you want in every part of you in dirty ways you've only read about in your forbidden books. You wake up hot in the middle of the night with your panties soaked with your desire for that man who is your teacher. The only one who understood you. The only one who accepted you. Forbidden. Sinful. You know he'll never want you. Not like this. You know that if that happened, he'd lose his career and his reputation. But now, in the cell Brenner has chosen for you, that doesn't matter in the slightest. You pull down your pajama pants along with your panties. Then you slip two fingers inside yourself and start masturbating. You started last year thinking about some actor who now means nothing to you. More of an unsatisfied physiological need than true desire... but with Creel... it's different.
You imagine him there, in that narrow cot with you, naked, intent on kissing your neck, then your breasts. Then your belly. Your thoughts are abstract, incomplete. Pages of forbidden books. Unripe desire mixed with inexperience. Your parents did everything to keep you under their strict control, even when it came to the opposite sex. Fewer complications. Less chance of you making mistakes. Less chance of a scandal over a pregnant daughter. This too has always been controlled. Princess dresses. Girlish hair. Surfers didn't want you. You were too good a girl. Nerds were scared of your family and couldn't stand the comparison with who you were. Unapproachable, perfect. But it was all a lie. You pump your fingers into your lustful pussy, starting to moan and move against your soaking hand, and those words, those forbidden, sinful words, come out of your panting mouth. "Please, Henry, yes, like that, please... please, continue!" You moan, then come. You relax, still half-naked, on the narrow bed, catching your breath, your hair disheveled and sweaty. "I love you, Henry," you say to nothing, like a silly little girl. You slowly fall asleep, lulled by a forbidden fantasy. By an unspeakable game that will never leave those white walls. Do you love him? You don't know. Do you desire him? Yes, you desire him. You desire him from the first moment you saw him. Now you admit it to yourself. You like that man. He makes you feel a physical desire you've never truly felt. It doesn't matter that it's just a fantasy. You don't know that Brenner saw everything through the hidden camera.
Disturbing music wakes you up. A sort of alarm clock. You stretch in bed, confused, then sit up in disbelief when a recorded voice, feminine but neutral, announces a happy day to everyone in the hospital. You've never experienced anything like this before. Usually, nurses knock on the door. But not here. You get up, wash yourself in the small shower next to your room, and go get dressed. Nervously, you opt for a simple candy pink tracksuit. You feel ridiculous, but you don't want to dress like a hooligan or the good girl you used to be. Then you tie your hair in a braid, regretting the dye you'd done just out of rebellion. It's too bright, too intense. Too... red. But you can't help it. You leave the room and find a man dressed in black waiting for you. "Good morning, Y/N. I'm Thomas, and I'm your date," he says neutrally. You study him carefully. After all, a date sounds like a jailer. He has a military look and that black suit doesn't convince you at all. "I... okay," you say. The man looks at you. "Of course it's fine. Brenner's orders. There's no arguing here. Breakfast then meet in room B11." He says dryly. You understand that's not an option. You follow the man in silence, studying the environment. You notice nurses dressed in white rushing somewhere but you don't notice any other patients. Strange. Usually in other hospitals the corridors were full. You arrive in a huge white canteen. But no one is there. You sit down uncomfortably. "And now?" The man gives you a look. "Wait here," he says and then comes back with a tray containing a load of sticky porridge and... that's it. "You look at that disgusting thing in disbelief. "This... is breakfast?!" you ask angrily. You were used to much better and your stomach is hungry after the sushi stunt. You doubt that mush will fill you up. "We all eat this stuff here. Hurry up. Brenner is not a patient man. He should have arrived by now. "He times everything with that damned... watch of his" Thomas says scornfully "So he doesn't live here?" The man looks at you curiously "Of course not, girl. Hurry up. I don't have all day" With a grimace you start eatingAs soon as you're finished, Thomas hands the tray to a cook.
You want to report him. At least the food was good at the other clinics. Either Brenner is a cheapskate or a health nut. You fear both. You follow Thomas cautiously to Brenner's office. The man knocks three times, then after a "come on," you're let in. Brenner is there, behind his desk, and you notice a strange clock nearby. So it's true. Brenner times everything. Maybe he suffers from OCD. You sit down cautiously. Brenner smiles. "Good morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?" His tone, for some reason, oozes mockery. Thinking back to your lustful fingers fucking your pussy, you turn red as fire. "Yes, everything's fine," you cut him short. Does he know? No, he doesn't know. How does he know? Brenner studies you. "A tracksuit. Excellent choice. You understood the right spirit of this place. Comfort and practicality above all. Comfort dresses, but not the crap you were wearing. But... I would opt for a neutral color. White or gray." You look at him nervously, wanting to run away. "Grey is fine," you say, thinking back to those horrible tracksuits from the gym at your old school. "Well, now we can start. But first, some orange juice," Brenner says, moving a glass towards you. You look at him cautiously. The only time you accepted a drink didn't end well. "I..." you stammer, but Brenner smiles. "It's just some fruit! I don't have any complimentary sweets, and the kitchen is a bit... rigid. I want to make you feel at ease. Drink, girl," he says harshly. An order. You decide to obey rather than stay there. You empty the glass, which smells strangely of plastic. "Good girl. You know how to be obedient. You'll need it here with me. I have no patience with rebels, and the more you hinder your medical journey, the worse it is. Now we can begin," he says.
Brenner pulls out a series of images from under some documents. You suppress a grimace. You already know that test. "The papers of Rorschach... really?" Brenner looks at you coldly. "No comments, Y/N. Now what do you see?" You respond quickly to each spot of color. You've done it so many times you've lost count. As you answer, Brenner takes careful notes. You notice that his handwriting is neat but very small. Strange. Doctors usually write terribly. Your head is starting to feel heavy, though. Maybe it's the lack of food. Maybe it's that stupid test. Brenner looks at you smiling. "You did really well, Y/N. Now another test. Come to the other room." You follow him out of his office until you reach a white room where there's a hospital bed. A nurse leads you up, and as he does so, you tear up the paper. "Now relax, Y/N. We're going to do an EEG to monitor your brain activity," Brenner says calmly. It's a procedure you're familiar with. Boring and painless. After all, your head has suffered damage. You let them put on the cap with the electrodes and wait for the usual commands. You breathe. You look at the lights. But none of this happens. You feel more and more confused, more and more sleepy. When Brenner starts his random questions, you're practically in a trance.
Brenner watches you as your gaze becomes increasingly confused due to the LSD in the glass. It's a psychedelic drug that always gets great results. It doesn't matter that it's about to be outlawed. He's done wonders with Henry Creel and his case of PTSD and psychosis. He'll do wonders with you too. Brenner starts with simple questions: "What's your favorite flower, Y/N?"
"The rose," you reply dreamily. "What do you think of when you think of the color red?" he asks you in a low, hypnotic voice. "The sunset in Miami. But also the belt Kali was wearing the other day." Brenner continues methodically with other questions. You talk about memories of school, of home. Even your grandmother or TV series. Eddie's name is often mentioned. But soon Henry's name comes up. "What do you associate the word glasses with?" You look at him, smiling wildly. "Henry." Here Brenner becomes attentive. He knows perfectly well what you've been up to in the solitude of your little room. He knows you're attracted to that man. How could you not? He's objectively very handsome. He takes after his mother." And tell me what feeling you associate with him?" You smile again. "Warmth. Protection." Interesting. Brenner hopes it won't become a problem but an opportunity. But his projects are different. "And with colored lights? What do you associate with colored lights?" Here you stiffen and lose your smile. "Strawberry milkshake," you whisper, scared. That's when everything descends into chaos.
Brenner is always the same👿
The proposed test is a psychological test where you have to guess shapes from spots of color. There is no right answer.
Yes, I admit it! I got the alarm clock with the creepy music from Squid Game😆 I couldn't resist
In season four, it's clear that Brenner has a sort of chronometer. Both in the crossword puzzle scene and in the scene where Henry gets his tattoo. Furthermore, in TFS, he has many traits of obsessive-compulsive disorder (or so the actor who played him said). Perhaps that's where Henry's obsession with the clock comes from, as well as for Captain Midnight? After all, I think Brenner structured Henry's life in the lab as a sort of prison with rigid temporal rules. It would explain Henry's aversion to time, which has remained inexplicable.
@nocasdatsgay @cinnamongirldances88
