Krieger Institute

God I hate Mondays,
I thought as I rubbed the sun from my eyes and groaned. I rolled onto my side to see Damon curled up fast asleep in his own bed across the room. The room we shared here in the Krieger Institute was identical to all the other rooms- minimal, cold atmosphere for minimum effort from their interior designers. I missed the apartment we shared in college where we decorated the walls with paintings and drawings we made for each other over our short four years there. Here, what the room lacked in furniture or decorations made up for in white spackle. In our old place, we pushed our beds together to make one big full-sized bed there. Here the beds were bolted to the floor and Damon's had padded cuffs chained to each corner in case he became a danger to himself, me, or anyone else. Thankfully Damon managed to stay in control yesterday, so no bondage was needed. Frankly, I hate the idea of restraining Damon anyway.

This was my first day as a residential caretaker here at Krieger. If it wasn't for Damon, I wouldn't even be here. Too many dangerous outbursts from Canaan brought Damon back to this place and I'd be damned if I let Damon come back alone this time.

I swung my legs over the bed, stood on the cold tiled floor and stretched. As much as I'd like to spend the day alone with Damon, we had a full day ahead. Today was his reevaluation with the head doctor. I took the few short strides to Damon's bed and sat beside him, making the thin mattress sink a little. One of the rare times Damon looked at peace was when he was sleeping. With a smile, I leaned over and kissed him on the top of his head.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty." I whispered, "Time to get the day started."

((Thought I should get this thing rolling now that we have a few participants!))

As much as I love waking up to Garret's soothing voice, I groaned loudly and curled up tighter under the cover. This was my first week back at the Krieger Institute after they let me out into the real world like I was a trial run or guinea pig for their new fancy product. Apparently, after four years I failed their test and was brought back here to start all over. I'm just thankful Garret could come with me.

He stood up and threw the blanket off of me, leaving me shivering and looking up at that playful smirk of his. "Come on," his smile softened almost as if he was apologizing for his uncalled for actions. "Let's get moving."

"Can't we just stay here all day?" I whined, trying to give him my best doe-eyes.
"I wish." He stretched his hand out to me and after a moment of more grumbling, I let him help me up. I knew just as well as he what was in store for us today. This afternoon I was up for my re-evaluation. They may already have my diagnosis on file but supposedly after being absent four years, they needed to start over.
I shuffled my feet to the connected bathroom, undressed, and walked into the stand-in shower. I wonder how claustrophobics can clean themselves in these boxes? Scrubbing and washing my hair with the dispenser's shampoo, I cleaned all the sweat and stress from my long hair as I unbraided it. As soon as I stepped out to grab my towel, Garret had to step in for his own quick shower before the hot water could run out.
While he washed up, I towel dried my hair with one of the two towels given to each room, one for me and one for him. Shuffling back to our room, I threw on the clothes I wore yesterday, one of the only two outfits they gave the patients here. A black tank top and black sweatpants.
I'm sitting on my bed braiding my hair and Garret comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped low around his waist. I swear he must have it loose just to tempt me. He walks over to his closet where both our clothes are found along with our sketchbooks and my journals. Those soft curves of his hips and hard muscles are probably the greatest reasons for keeping me grounded. I watch as he grabs a pair of smock pants from one of the hangers and the towel drops to the floor. Without thinking, my legs carry me right behind him. He bends over to pull the pants on and with trembling hands, I reach for him.

One of Rowens big, almond shaped eyes cracked open stiffly, revealing the blood shot, pale green orb beneath the lid. Holy shit. was the first thought to flash in her mind. Her body ached, like every nerve was pinched and ablaze. Her head was throbbing and her brain felt like it had been purade. Her stomach was a sea of nausea, churning and splashing inside. She was trembling, her pale skin clammy and cold. Her mouth was horribly dry and tasted sour, her pillow, plump lips were chapped and peeling.
Rowen had been in places like this before and forced to detox, but it never really worked, just made her want to indulge in substance more and forget about the God awful experience. In previous institutions, she'd been able to use her charm and her ability to easily influence people to sneak drugs in for her. But, this was only her third day at Krieger, so she hadn't been able to weed out the weak links yet.

The 22 year old was found stumbling around the city streets aimlessly, drugged out of her mind, yet again. The police had been called because she was causing trouble and pestering people, being a public nuisance. The local hospital, tired of seeing her in there so frequently for ODs and alcohol poisoning, sent her to the institution. It was a vicious cycle. Rowen would move somewhere, get in to trouble too many times, be sent to a clinic or detained at the station, then flee to the next city or state. Rinse and repeat.

Rowen groaned loudly, rolling on to her back in the narrow, starchy bed. The scratchy sheets felt like razors on her skin. She was wearing the black tank top, breasts un-braed beneath it, and black sweats that were given to her, her feet bare, and her bleached hair in a mess around her head. The skin around her bloodshot eyes was pink and puffy, pale purple bags hanging due to sleeplessness. Even if she wanted to get out of bed, she wasn't sure her body would perform the function. All she could think about was the sting of a needle poke in the crook of her elbow, how oh so satisfying it would feel.

I could feel Damon's presence closing in around me a mile away, so attuned to his cool, slender figure like a second skin. Unfortunately, I couldn't let him procrastinate today. As much as I wanted to stay in this room and tangle my fingers in his long, fiery hair and kiss every freckle on his face and shoulders, we had to get those tests taken care of. The sooner we can get him cured of his disorder- or at least get it under control- the sooner we could leave this disturbing place and move on with our lives. I couldn't wait to move us to the east coast where we can get some peace and quiet along the Carolina shores and their massive lighthouses. Nothing but the gulls and fishing boats to interrupt our time together.
In my poor attempt to stay focused on today's tasks, I threw my nurse's shirt on. It still felt strange getting used to such drab, starchy garb after having enough wardrobe for me and Damon. As Damon curled his hands around my waist, I regretfully pulled my scrub pants on and with that bending motion, he pulled me closer into a hug, his crotch directly against the curve of my ass. I could feel him the bump of his erection through my cotton hospital pants. I swerved around to face him and took his hands in mine.
He looked up at me with those sparkling, amber eyes of his and his lips parted in hopeful anticipation. In barely held restraint, I kissed each of his knuckles and hid my lips behind our laced fingers.
"Hold onto that thought for tonight," I promised, "let's get this day over with, yeah?"

With a sigh of resignation, the glimmer I caught in his eyes faded and his shoulders slumped. Just as he dropped his arms and sulked away towards the door, I grabbed his hand before he could go any farther. Bringing him closer, I kissed him just below his ear and sucked on his lower lobe, tracing my tongue along its edge. I could see the goosebumps rising on his skin and over every freckle.
"Just a taste for now, love."
I slowly released him and I suppose that was enough motivation for him since he was now about to rush out of the door without me. I stared at him, a smile curving the edges of my lips with the confidence I instilled in him.
"Then what are you waiting for? I'm starving." He said with renewed energy he rarely gets in the morning. It was his turned to take my hand and we left our room for the cafeteria.

Eventually, Rowen was hassled out of bed by an elderly woman in staff scrubs. She actually growled at the woman, which wasn't something she normally did - unless it was to provide amusement for herself, but right now all her feelings could be described as animalistic. Despite the not so friendly greeting, the elderly woman somehow managed to scrape Rowen out of her bed and into the shower.

Rowen sighed, "Oh fuck" in a sort of ecstasy as the warm water dribbled down her bare body. Her curvy, yet drug-skinny body was covered in old scars, and a few newer bruises that bloomed deep shades of purples and blues on her upper thigh, side, and lower back. Her knuckles on both hands were also bruised blue, some small scabs remaining. The warm water felt like a god sent on her clammy, shivering body, trailing down her scrulped face, the curve of her breasts, her flat stomach, and shapely legs, then off down the drain. She drenched her bleached hair, submerging her face into the water stream. Briefly, she wondered if it was possible to drown in a shower. Maybe if you put your mind to it.

She was beckoned out long after the water had turned cold, being scolded by the old lady for her actions. Her plump lips were blue and trembling, goosebumps erupting all over her ashen skin. "Why wouldnt you get out when the water turned cold?" The old lady screeched, reminding Rowen of some old crow. She didn't know why she'd stayed in so long.

"I want some Oxy." She demanded, after drying and dressing her bare body in the black sweats and tank top. She wasn't responded to as she was lead out into the halls and towards the cafeteria for breakfast and meds. "Oxy, lady! Some fucking codeine! Morphine?" The young, blonde woman continued shouting her demands for painkillers as she entered the cafeteria with the staff woman. Shit, her body felt like one giant bruise, she'd do just about anything to not feel it. Her body was still trembling, though the blue hue from her lips had faded.

Damon slowed as he and Garret reached the cafeteria side by side. His fingers curling around Garret's pulling him to a halt. There were people inside already, one screaming her impatient demands loud enough for the acoustics of the room to reach down the hallway. The last time he was in this institute, he was stuck in Dr. Krueger's isolation wing, a lab rat to his experiments. He never made any contact with the other patients, unless one of his altars managed to sneak out.
Garret gave his hand a squeeze and kissed him on the side of his head. "It'll be alright. I'm right here." He gave him the reminder Damon needed. One that he was sure Garret must be tired of giving him all the time.
He gulped a big breath of air and they walked inside. The large lunch room was cold and sterile, the smell of the eggs and bacon barely covering up that nostalgic antiseptic stench. They each grabbed their tray, plasticware, and napkins and made their way down the line. Garret picked up one of everything while Damon just wanted an apple. His stomach couldn't handle much food while he was anxious. He let Garret lead them to an empty table and nearly jumped off the bench when the plastic's cold radiated through his pants.
Was this place always so cold? he wondered.
"Try to eat some more," Garret insisted as he put some of his bacon on another plate he picked up for Damon just in case. "You'll need your strength later."
Damon stared at the bacon then back at Garret, "I'm not really hungry this morning."
He continued nibbling on his apple, his eyes taking in his surroundings. Two ladies in hair nets were in the back stirring up the oatmeal goop. A security guard stood in a corner monitoring everyone's movements, one hand resting on his aluminum baton itching for some action. His eyes drifted to the ladies at another table. An older woman with hospital smocks similar to Garret's was arguing with a girl with clothes nearly identical to Damon's. Her skin looked like a connect-the-dots painting that a child didn't finish with its faded blue and yellow bruises from injection marks. Taking another bite he wondered if any of those were fresh from the doctor and how many were old self-inflicted holes. Why would someone want to stick needles into themselves anyway?

Peaceful music. Steady hands. White lab coat stained with still warm blood. A calm expression on Dr. Krueger's face, humming with the rhythm of the melody. He simply watched the dead bruised body on the medical table and reached with his hands to remove the IV systems with a Biohazard sign on them "Such a promising specimen." he commented calmly, removing gently the wireless patches for monitoring the changes of his physical status. Then he removed the headset on his head, there was no brain activity anymore. "What a shame..." he made a very precise cut on the patient's medial cubital vein of the forearm and inserted a tube with which the doctor drained some of the blood in a crystal wine glass. He took off his disposable gloves and brought the glass to his nose, smelling the warm blood as he closed his eyes with satisfaction. "You will not go to waste, my dear." he spoke to the body and took a small sip just to taste it.

Simply amazing. Pure warm satisfaction with just the right amount of metallic taste.

This was the sweetest taste of all, naturally warm blood, directly from the source. Raziel smiled softly as he swallowed the red life force in his glass. Looking at the body, the man sighed. Not because he felt bad that the man died, Krueger felt no remorse or compassion. He was simply disappointed, because he had hopes for him. The doctor shook his head, but then remembered something - Damon. Oh, Damon, Damon, he was here once again.

So... there was hope after all.

Of course, there were new... additions, but Krieger and Damon shared such a beautiful, in the doctor's opinion, history together. And Damon lived. For so long. There was hope for Krueger's so called studies.

The man took off his bloody coat and fold it gently, placing it on the table near the body. Then he adjusted his tie and the jacket of his suit. He took a final drink of his glass and placed it on the table. Dr. Krueger simply turned and left the room with the music still playing and a corpse staring lifelessly at the ceiling, as the nurses came to clean after him.

The elderly nurse arguing with Rowen finally gave up, tossing her hands up in the air irritatedly before walking away. The blonde girl smirked a little as she twisted herself around to face towards the table. Oh god, everything hurt. Her skin felt so sensitive, laying her bare arms on the chilly table tops felt like laying them across ice. And it sure didn't feel nice. She groaned loudly, dramatically, throwing herself down against the frigid surface and cradling her head in her crossed arms over the table. Damn, she needed to find a source real fast. Week one of detox was like a vacation in Hell, and Rowen didn't particularly remember purchasing that ticket. She suddenly felt herself boiling with bubbling hatred for the local health clinic that had sent her here. There was not a whole lot more she wanted right now than to be holed up in her dingy, hazy apartment, chain smoking cigarettes, getting high and watching some Real Housewives show or something equally dramatic and fake - she found it amusing. It was a simple life really, but a life that apparently was so looked down upon, it was enough to get her repeatedly sent to places like this. Man, she wasn't really hurting nobody, maybe aggravating people in public when she had to go out there, but not molesting god-damn kids or some shit. In Rowens eyes, with the horrors she's seen in life, she was a saint in comparison.

She rolled her head to the side, watching half the cafeteria room filling up with people, some looking not all there. The one upside places like this had, was that it contained Rowens favorite types of people: crazies and the elderly. While her eyes were swimming across the sea of faces, they landed upon some guy with a braid, who was looking back at her. At first, her pale green eyes narrowed a bit, not dropping the eye contact between the two. Then, she stuck out her tongue, teasingly, like a child.

I always seemed to have enough of an appetite for myself and Damon and today was no exception. While the stress he brought upon his body and mind often kept his hunger at bay, my stress made me want to eat, barely able to taste the food but needing the sustenance.Working as a nurse was such an unusual occupation for me as I'm used to having people back home waiting on me hand and foot, never mind the few years of college. It was there when I met Damon that I learned what it's like to be needed and take responsibility for something besides myself.
Just as I gave up trying to get him to eat more, I noticed he was already studying the people filter into the cafeteria one by one. Suddenly, his shoulders hunched over and he lowered his head to stare at his apple core. I turned my attention straight across to what could've caused the reaction. A woman thinner than Damon and covered in small bruises on her arms was making faces at him.
A small smile quirked at the corner of my lips. I rubbed his arm, hoping he'll take comfort in my warm hands and closeness.
"Do you want to go say hello?" I asked him. Watching Damon make a friend on his first day back to this place, let alone a girl, would be a huge step for him. If he wanted to get up and greet her, he knew I'd be right there with him. Even if I didn't have to go everywhere he did, I'd want to. I needed his company as much as he needed mine.

The bleached blonde woman in question was now making cartoonish kissy faces towards the man with the pretty braid, but was interrupted by a push to her shoulder, sending waves of searing pain through her nerves. A scowl took the place of batting her long lashes and pursing her plump lips together.

She slowly, lazily lifted her head from the chilly surface of the cafeteria table that reminded her sickeningly of high school lunches. Instead of the splash of venom she had been about to spit at who'd ever laid their hand on her tender shoulder, she grinned impishly, revealing surprisingly nice teeth for a junkie. Before her was a young, blonde bombshell, wearing Staff attire, causing Rowen to cock a thin, arched brow with devious intent. She watched with the same foxy grin as Alex introduced herself, then demanded coffee from the old, bar lady. "Well howdy there, Sugar Tits." Rowen greeted, a purr in her voice. "Ya know, I wasn't quite in the mood to munch, but now- " She looked Alex up and down quite obviously. "I'm feeling rather ravenous." She finished with a snap of her teeth in the air, sensual look flashing in her pale green, magnetic eyes. In fact, the pale woman was not feeling ravenous in the slightest, food was the furthest from her mind and from the sea of nausea thrashing inside her flat belly. A distraction was more of what she wanted, and this seemed to fit the bill, a beautiful distraction to chase away the throbbing inside Rowen's skull. It did little to stop the trembling in her clammy hands though, which she did nothing to hide, leaving them to quake on top of the table.

Damon panicked as the audacious girl flirted with him, boldly touching his chest. He hated women. They often reminded him of his mother and her relentless contempt for him. He reached under the table and squeezed Garret's hand for assurance. When Garret squeezed back, letting him know he'd protect him, he made a poor attempt at easing his posture. He never did well with new people and he could tell this girl was used to getting her way with men.

Before he could excuse himself to return to his conversation with Garret, she yanked him away from his friend and caretaker and brought him back to the cafeteria's food line. The greasy, nauseating smell of bacon and fatty sausage wafted into his nostrils making him withhold a gag reflex. He was a vegetarian and was very careful of what he ate. Years of food poisoning from his father then being fed the questionable meals here taught him to always check his food first.
Damon pulled his hand away and wrapped his arms around his side. He looked back at Garret, hoping he'd rescue him from this strange girl. Garret simply shrugged his shoulders and gestured a push his way, encouraging him to engage with the others here.
Gulping in a nervous breath, he looked at his shoes then down at the petite brunette. Her childlike grin seemed to keep him off guard. Although he was just below six feet, he still was taller than most the girls here.

"M-my name's Damon." He added, finally making eye contact, "What's yours?"

Back in college, the girls always seemed to flock around me, whether it was because of my money or eyes or confidence. I was glad that it was Damon this time the ladies were interested in. First the girl at the next table who was making funny faces at him, then this brunette who decided to take some initiative with him. I wasn't sure how much time he spent with the patients last time he was in this institution but I knew he could really some socialization. The guy was like a whipped puppy, always hiding behind me for some security.

While she talked with Damon, I decided to give him a moment of independence and got up to introduce myself to one of the other nurse. A young blonde about my age was sitting with her pale patient. She had her head in her hands while her subordinate curled up on the bench with no food in sight.
I walked past Damon, giving him a quick, reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, swiped an apple from the counter and chipped off a small carving on its side. I sat across from the two ladies and offered the girl in sweatpants the apple, showing her the smiley face he made on it.

"Hospital food," I started with a shake of the head, "What can you do but force it down? At least they provide us with sustenance with a smile."

I reached my hand across the table to the nurse cradling her coffee.

"Name's Garret. I'm here with Damon over there," I pointed a thumb over my shoulder back at Damon, praying he was doing fine. "What brought you to this place?"

Scotty enjoyed the mornings most days, waking up in his comfortable bed beside his therapy dog Lila had its perks, a warm force, constant breathing giving his a reason to roll over and a fan to give him that breath of brisk air across his face. Of course at this place that wasn't his reality, here it was barren walls painted with ancient plaster and dead bug tracks. Here the air was old and stale. Here the floors were cold and unwelcoming. Scotty's eyes opened slowly, he was fully expecting to be back in his warm bed, not the chilly room of the room he was in. He took a deep breath and sighed closing his eyes once again. Before rocketing up and throwing the covers off with a harsh yell, cursing at the world.

"Fuck This!" His voice was loud and resonated in the small vacant room, similar to an opera house.

The nurse on the other side of the room fell out of the bed at the sound, and they landed with a loud thud on the concrete floor. The cover was still wrapped around their body, limbs tangled in the fabric. They looked displeased with the action and tried to untangle their body from the clinging fabric.They occasionally glared at Scotty, who was in all sense of the word enjoying himself for the first time since being brought to the place. When the nurse finally extricated themselves from the mess of blankets, they openly glowered at him.

"I just had to get stuck with the Psycho. Didn't I? " They spoke more to themselves but Scotty wasn't having any of their sass, he wasn't in the mood.He stood and walked over to the door leading to the shared bathroom, looking down at the nurse he spoke in a clipped tone.

"Psycho isn't the half of it babe." He continued his trek into the bathroom and slammed the door closed on the nurse.

After a very unsatisfying and cold shower, Scotty left with the nurse traveling the vast, white hallways.Every now and then they would pass a blank door although with the way everything looked they could have been passing the same door over and over again. When they finally reached the doors to the cafeteria, he smiled. It was time to be sociable. Stepping into the room, he almost gagged and lost his mask of happiness. The smell of breakfast was overwhelming and revolting at once. He stayed on the wall for a moment before pushing himself to an upright position and getting his food. 'M-my name's Damon, What's yours?' Oh the poor boy, the redhead was clearly uncomfortable with the brunette flirting with him. Slipping behind the girl he grabbed a few apples, dropping one purposefully it rolled between the girl's legs hitting the redheads foot. Reaching around the girl he picked it up and polished it on his shirt sleeve.

"Apple a day keeps the doctor away. Clearly, the docs here missed the memo." Placing the apple in his mouth he extended a clean one to each of them.

Out of all of the patients, few were as dangerous or unpredictable as Colin. When he woke and when he slept we're the only consistent things about him, the scruffy man spending most of his time trying to escape. It took at least four orderlies to keep him restrained, and he would get visibly uncomfortable anytime anyone stood behind him. But he was still there, still a hazard. As he always did, he woke up at exactly four thirty in the morning, checking his cell frantically for something or another. After that, he spent much of the day either writing in his journal or exercising, only leaving to eat or drink. Much of the danger came from interrupting him or trying to sneak up on him.

The cafeteria was where he was most likely to flare up or terrify the other patients. The cafeteria was where he stood, as he took a fruit, dropped it on the floor intentionally, and started eating it, his back to a wall.

Slowly, Rowen raked her eyes away from the cute blonde to... another cute blonde. A dude this time, offering her an apple and sympathy. The latter tasted like copper and made her sneer. A lightly menacing glimmer hung in her blood shot eyes as she stared at Garret, but that ebbed as her gaze dropped to the face of the apple. She reached for it while Garret struck up an introduction with Alex.

For a moment, she scowled down at the apple in her quivering palm, who was beaming a smile back up at her from it's bright red and shiny face. It looked disgustingly pleasant. With the bend of a pointy, bony elbow, she brought the apple to her chapped, fat lips and sunk her teeth into it. A large chunk was bitten off, consisting entirely of the apple's carved out smiley face.

"Thanks," Rowen said through crunching, apple juice running from her smirk and down her chin. "Just what I needed." The now faceless apple was dropped from her fist, plunking to the table top and rolling to the edge, then disappeared over it and landing with a hollow sounding thunk on the cafeteria floor. Rowen then decided to steal the conversation Garret was trying to conjure with the hot Russian.

"Hey Garret, I'm Rowen. This is Al," Rowen stated, nodding her head to the nurse and bestowing a nickname upon Alexandra. "She followed me here from the last clinic, where we met." Rowen turned a dopey, shit eating grin to Alex while still talking to Garret. "Could you believe this bomb shell was locked up like a true crazy too? But, she flipped the tables real snappy when I was put in this joint." She wheezed a dreamy sigh. "We just can't stand to be apart."

While she was bullshitting and snuggling in closer to Alex, her predator eyes caught the shuffling of two new crazy cards to the deck in the cafeteria, two men, both seeming to just mind their own business. Lame. Rowen always hoped for a show, a circus act of insanity.

Damon was planning his escape back to the protection of his friend and caretaker Garret when an apple rolled toward him and the girl, stopped by her foot. She still hasn't offered her name and yet another person had to join them. The man reached down through her legs to pick up the apple.

Is he that perverted or do people here have no sense of personal space?

At least he was generous enough to present a tasty offering. Garret was saying he needed to eat more. Damon took the juicy red fruit in good faith.

"Thanks. And you are...?" He said, studying him closely. The young man looked close to Damon's age with pale skin easily contrasting his raven hair. It made his strong jawline and piercing blue eyes appear even sharper. Those eyes had an unusual twinkle to them, making him an enigma. The fact he wasn't sure what the man was thinking made him harder to trust than the brunette. Damon wanted to peek around the man's shoulders to see if Garret had gotten up yet but didn't want to let down his guard.

He smiled and took a bite out of the apple in his mouth. It was surprisingly juicy. The cool fluid ran over his back teeth causing him to wince for a moment. But he quickly corrected himself. 'Thanks. And you are...?' The boy, Damon, looked at him expectantly. Scotty could see the look in his eyes, not quite fear but a want to escape. He wasn't getting that anytime soon.

"Names Scotty, but everyone calls me Socks." He smiled crinkling the sides of his eyes like he had learned, to make the smile seem genuine, and took another bite of the apple. "And you're Damon, right? Pretty busy around here for a mental hospital, oh I am sorry 'Clinic'." He made air quotes and rolled his eyes, smile fading. Like he was getting out of here.

He flicked his eyes to the brunette and smirked. "And who might you be lass?" His accent fell through causing a vein in his neck twitch. Scotty didn't like for people to know he was Scottish. They would make fun of the Scottish boy named Scotty.

A childish giggle subconsciously escaped Damon's lips at the thought of Scotty's nickname. He quickly covered his mouth in hopes that would tamper a transition to Mikah. He noticed the light on his wrist brace was flashing a slow yellow, signifying a transition could happen. The little boy loved being the center of attention, thinking he can make friends with everyone. This was Damon's first day back in this stuffy clinic. Surely he's grown stronger over the past few years, able to withstand the pulls of his alters. But no, if that were the case, he wouldn't be back here.

Taking a calming breath, he cleared his throat. If Garret thought he could handle a conversation without him, then he had to believe the same.
The girl next to Damon and Scotty was standing there with pursed lips, probably enjoying how awkward Damon looked. He tucked his left hand with the brace under his right arm and lowered his gaze momentarily.

"Sorry." Trying to cover up his impulsive reflex, he took a bite of the apple. It tasted about as crisp and juicy as last time, so he knew at least the raw food here was safe.
"Socks. Okay. Where did that nickname come from?" He asked, still recovering and watching for Garret out of the corner of his eye.

Scotty stopped with the apple halfway to his mouth ready to take another bite.His gaze went out of focus and he closed his mouth, the vein in his neck twitching again.

He was 17 then. The room was cold, too cold for the summer. Scotty was on something hard and gritty. He opened his eyes slowly, used to his brothers putting him in the closet and leaving him there. But this time the soft jackets and shirts where nowhere to be found. Just a concrete floor, a few boxes, and the pipe his leg was chained to. This isn't normal they would never take it this far... would they. The family was meant to go to the lake this weekend, had they left yet. He yelled out. "MOM! DAD!" Listen. "ANYONE!" They were gone. They had left him chained in the basement to a pipe with nothing. Like an animal, like a neglected pet. Alone and scared is the state he stayed in for 3 days. When they finally returned he was almost dead, his ankle torn to shreds, and his body weak. When he finally woke up in the hospital a days later he learned that his brothers told his parents that he was staying at a friends house instead of going to the lake with them. When they returned home his siblings where nowhere to be found, come to find out they had been charged as adults for kidnapping, child endangerment, a heap of other charges, and were thrown in prison never to come out and see him ever again.

Scotty blinked a few times and shook his head as if to clear his mind of the memory. He leaned down and raised his pants leg at the knee to reveal the 3-inch wide scar that wrapped around his ankle. He smiled and looked up at Damons face to gauge his reaction at the old wound.

"Looks like the top of a sock doesn't it?" He laughed a bit.

Colin noticed Scotty's scar and stepped forwards, breathing slowly as he looked at the scar, nodding.
"That your first?" He asked, "here's mine," he said, pointing somewhere on the mass of scars and burns that was his face. He leaned in and stared at Scotty.
"Remember this always and forever, son. Remember who did that and how. Never forgive them, ever. If you can see them die, do so. And remember... that's just the first of many, son. Get used to pain, because you'll never be free. Always and forever, son," he said softly.