When Thora quieted down, Robyn grabbed one last tissue and wiped the tears off of her face, using maternal instincts she wasn’t aware that she had. “Your food’s getting cold. Come on and eat some.” Thora nodded, and scooted herself back on her bed while Robyn got her food. She ate slowly, and Robyn filled the unnatural quiet of the room with her own chatter. Every time she paused, the silence filled the room again. Robyn found herself missing the old Thora desperately.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The world was unfocused and hazy when Regan opened her eyes again. The room wasn’t bright, but dark. And she was alone. Regan felt an unconscious tightening in her chest, and wondered why. She blinked slowly to bring everything in focus.
When had she slept?
Brow furrowed, she desperately tried to remember. What had she been doing? She reached up and clutched her head with her hands. God, if she could just think straight. Think. But it was so hard. Every time she pulled in one thought, it would slip away, and she was left wondering why the room was dark and what she’d done this time to have to come here.
She laid there for a good fifteen minutes, working her mind through the haze and back into reality. It was difficult, but she managed to hold on to her thoughts for longer than a couple of seconds and remember.
Bright red hair. Robyn.
Regan felt her heart lift a little at the mental image of the girl, in a way it hadn’t lifted in almost nine months. She talked - a lot. But she cared. Regan didn’t need to feel for the emotions, but rather, they had come to her.
She’d been curious when Robyn first came in to visit. She didn’t know she’d caught this girl’s attention, but Robyn was as equally fascinated with her. And the girl talked - and talked and talked. And Regan listened, fascinated. Robyn’s emotions rose and fell with her stories, but there were a few constants - bitterness when she spoke of her foster homes, longing when she spoke of Cye, this childhood friend that she seemed to revere above all else. But underneath it all was a constant fear of something, a dread. When she spoke of the thing that happened to her that no one would believe, Regan knew that was it. If it landed her in this hellish place, it had to be a big deal.
She sat up slowly and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. She hated this room. Hated maximum security. Now she remembered why her chest felt tight. No other place on earth made her feel as claustrophobic as this room did, and she swore they knew it. Every time she tried to escape, they’d put her in here for longer. Last time it was over a week, and she dreaded to find out how long they would keep her here this time.
Regan’s thoughts stopped. Someone was coming towards her room. Two people. She contemplated lying back down and pretending to be asleep, but before she made up her mind, the door opened, and light poured in.
The man and woman in the doorway paused at its threshold, staring apprehensively. She recognized the woman as one of the doctor’s nurses, but she couldn’t remember her name. The man, however, she knew; Dr. Rothchild, Dr. Corbett’s assistant. And they obviously hadn’t expected her to be awake. The fact that they were uneasy and a little afraid gave Regan a small amount of pleasure.
“Regan,” the woman spoke. “We need to take you down to the lab.”
She fought the urge to bare her teeth at the woman. “I don’t want to.”
“Dr. Corbett has promised you’ll be able to return to your room sooner.”
Dr. Corbett was a liar. So she told the woman so.
“It’s a small test, Regan,” Dr. Rothchild put in. “And then you can go back to sleep.”
“I’ve been sleeping all day.”
“Miss Mendola.” The doctor’s voice took on an edge, and Regan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re in maximum security, and in no position to negotiate. If you perform these tests, we won’t give you anymore Thorazine for the night. You’re free to roam this room all night if you wish.”
Her instantaneous anger at this man had her blurting out without thinking, “I’m not doing a damn thing until I can go back to my room.”
The two in the doorway were silent. With no other comment, Dr. Rothchild and the nurse stepped back into the hallway and shut the door. Instead of feeling like she’d accomplished something with them, she felt a little ill and deflated. She had a feeling she didn’t do herself any favors by snapping at the doctor.
She used to be able to tell herself that they couldn’t possibly do anything to make her start talking about her empathic abilities and using Psychokinesis, but Jesus, had they proven her wrong. There was plenty they could do, had done.
She finally gave in four months ago because it hurt not to. Not just what they were doing. She didn’t think that alone would have done it, although what they were starting to threaten frightened her. She could handle not being allowed outside, stuck in the room they decorated and placed her in for weeks. She could handle sitting in the same room in front of a metal bowl, being coaxed by the doctors on the other side of the two-way glass to move it, do something with it. They hadn’t appreciated her moving it around with her hands. So they sat her in that room for hours, occasionally turning the heat up or down to persuade her, but Regan could be just as patient. She had gotten very good as a child at allowing her mind to wander for as long as she needed.
She even handled it when they brought her to the sensory-deprivation tank. She had no idea what the hell it was when she first saw it - a large gray tank with steps leading up to a hatch on one side, inside a gray room with gray carpet and gray doors. They explained to her that there was water in there, and that she would float - for hours - to work on her empathic abilities and shields.
That hadn’t been so bad. It had even been relaxing. And in a way, it had even helped her.
But she still refused to move things, and that was what they really wanted. Regan became truly afraid of these people for the first time when one of the doctors had sat her down and told her they could keep her constantly drugged on Thorazine - constantly unaware of where she was, disoriented, indifferent; almost vegetable-like. She would’ve rather died. And then they mentioned something called ‘aversion therapy’ devices. She had no idea what that was until Dr. Corbett showed her.
Shock therapy.
So she gave in. But not just for their sake. Not only because they had the power to render her a step above mentally disabled with their drugs. But because she was curious.
The doctors had spent so much time the first four months ensuring that she could use her ability without harming herself - or inadvertently others - by building up shields and the like . . . and then she became curious as to what she could do with her shields in place.
It wasn’t just that, either, if she was honest with herself. She’d gotten restless. She loathed this place, sitting in rooms, not doing anything - but another part of her loathed it even more. Her mind felt useless and restless. She’d never gone so long without doing the slightest bit with her ability, and it was wearing on her. Not using her mind was starting to hurt.
The moment she had done something, had used all that pent-up energy, she felt such relief that it nearly frightened her.
As it had frightened the doctors. They had placed that metal bowl in front of her, a camera on the other side of the mirror, and Dr. Corbett had smiled the smile that made her want to eviscerate him with anything handy, and told her he would stay in the room.
She had told him differently. “I think you’d better leave. I can’t promise something won’t happen.” The light went out in the man’s eyes and he had left the room rather quickly.
She remembered staring at that bowl, feeling the unused energy gathering up in her, and it almost physically hurt to keep it all in. She hadn’t just pushed at the bowl - she shoved at it.
It had exploded off the table, cracking in half and hurling towards the opposite wall, where it hit with such force that both halves were embedded deep in the steel.
They were afraid of her after that. No one could really look her in the face, let alone touch her anymore. But Dr. Corbett and Dr. Rothchild had been so elated, had just gushed about it, and they demanded more immediately.
Now it was a control issue. ‘You do this and we’ll give you this’, ‘I’ll only move that if you let me do this.’ She hated it.
Almost as much as she hated this damn room. Regan swung her legs over to the floor, hissing at the freezing tiles under her bare feet. She stood up and stretched, her body still feeling lethargic from the medicine. Maybe if she walked this off she’d be more alert.
So Regan paced the small room. She already knew how many of her footsteps it would take to get from one end to the other. If she walked normally, it took her eight steps to go the length of the room, and five steps to go the width. If she went heel to toe, it was twelve steps by nine steps. She couldn’t pace for very long, though. The lack of space was starting to drive her crazy, like it always did. And she wanted some light.
Regan paused by her bed and looked up at the unlit fluorescent lights. She felt the slight rush go through her body, hum down into her hands. Reaching, feeling, she found the spark it would take to turn them on, and gave a very gentle push.
Light flooded the room, and Regan continued her pace, although much slower and letting her thoughts drift away from this stupid, small room that drove her slowly crazy.
She wanted to talk to Robyn. She wanted the girl’s company.
Regan paused, surprised at herself. This was new. She hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone in almost a year. It had never occurred to her to try and be friendly with the girls on her floor that she rarely got to see, anyway. It had hurt too badly to even try - those girls weren’t here permanently and she, it seemed, was. Why make friends with people she’d eventually lose? But now, she surprised herself by really wanting to be friends with this girl. Robyn made her realize how lonely she was.
She felt a rush of gratitude for Robyn. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had simply talked to her because they wanted to. It was nice, and she wanted more of it. She wished Robyn would come visit her sometime soon. Having her in this room made it a lot more bearable, and the emotions coming off in waves from the girl were confusing and refreshing.
Regan sat down, unaware of the small smile forming.
And Robyn had hugged her.