Chapter 11

I think I used to have a purpose
Then again, that might have been a dream
I think I used to have a voice
Now I never make a sound
I just do what I’ve been told . . .
I’m still inside here
A little bit comes bleeding through
I just don’t know what else I can do
~ ‘Every Day is Exactly the Same’, by Nine Inch Nails

New York City liked to pretend that the coming of night was nothing more than a minor inconvenience; it could create its own false illusion of brightness through its thousands of lights, lit up signs, and car headlights that drowned out the starlight and replaced it with its own version in the form of the twinkling lights of its skyscrapers. The day did not end when the night fell; for some it was just beginning.
The noise and cars dwindled in the side streets and small neighborhoods, and the lights became less intense the further away from the heart of the city. Shadows deepened around the houses, alleyways, and apartment buildings, but the shadows looked the deepest as a lone car approached a quiet, empty high school located at the edge of one of the neighborhoods.
The car slowed at the curb, near a house that was silent and dark. The cars occupants climbed out and approached the high school quickly, voices hushed.
“Derek, I want you to stay outside and keep an eye out for cops,” Jason said, and added quickly when Derek opened his mouth, “and don’t bitch about it. Just do it.”
Derek sighed moodily and hefted up the book he was carrying under his arm. It looked absolutely ancient – and it smelled ancient, too. “Fine. At least I won’t have to carry this damn book around.”
Sheila cuffed him on the back of the neck. “‘That damn book’ helped give us the powers we have, idiot.”
“It doesn’t have to smell like ass, does it?”
“Knock it off,” Jason snapped. “Now wait here, and we can be in and out.” Derek huffed and sat down on the curb in front of the school, pointedly ignoring the other two and staring out into the empty street. Sheila and Jason continued to the school, veering off to the left towards the side entrance. At the entrance, Sheila hefted the book up and opened it to the page Kortez had instructed. “Try not to butcher the language while you’re reading it. That language is older than religion, and I’ll not have the three of you defiling the incantation.” He had recited it to them so they would get it right, and when he was satisfied, he sent them out.
Sheila started out slowly, feeling the foreign, exotic words roll off her tongue. She could feel the power thrumming through her with each word, and her anticipation built. Jason could feel it, too; his eyes positively gleamed in the darkness. The incantation would mask the two of them, rendering them nearly invisible so as not to trigger the alarm system or cameras set up in the school. When she finished the chant, a warmth spread up to her chest, making her feel light headed – and powerful.
She and Jason exchanged a grin, and with another few short words, Jason recited another chant Kortez had taught them. The lock on the door snapped open, and they let themselves in.
They headed straight for the main office at the front of the school, and unlocked that door, as well. Robyn had been a junior, so they entered the junior class’s dean’s office for her files. The metal file cabinets were off to one side of the room, and Jason reached them first.
“What was her last name again?” Sheila asked.
“McCarthy.” Jason barely had the patience to sift through the dozens of files until he found ‘M’ . . . and then he found ‘McCarthy, Robyn.’ “Here she is,” he said, a grin forming on his face. Sheila tried to snatch the folder, and he let out a low growl of protest and batted her hand away. “I’ve got it.” He flipped it open, and scanned each page until he found her place of residence. “New York Foundling Hospital. Got you, Red.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Who is Cye?”
Robyn’s eyes slid into focus and she looked at the man in front of her. “What?”
He gestured, slowly. Irritatingly. “Cye. You’ve spoken of him.”
She frowned. “No, I haven’t. How do you know about him?”
“In your dreams.” He shifted his large weight in his seat. “One of your nightmares. You spoke his name, called for him. He is someone . . . important, then?”
Robyn was inexplicitly angered at the thought of discussing her best friend with this man. Her memories were private, and her memories of Cye were precious – she didn’t want to talk about him with this therapist.
“Maybe.”
“Why would you call for this particular person in your nightmare?”
Because thinking about him makes me feel safe. “I don’t know.”
“Is he a boyfriend?”
Robyn snorted. “No.”
“Who-“
“Can we not talk about him?” Robyn snapped.
He held up his hands in defeat. “All right. We’ll have it your way. Shall we talk about your parents instead?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He took off his glasses, wiped them with a small white rag he kept in his pocket, and placed them back on his nose. “How about school? How was the past school year for you?”
Robyn shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “It was school. It sucked.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
She shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t all bad. I did okay in my classes.”
“Yes, mostly B’s, and some A’s. Impressive, considering most of the past year you were living with a classmate instead of at your foster home.”
“It was better that way.” Until about a month ago, she thought.
“And why is that?”
Could you stop saying that? “The McCarthy’s didn’t like me very much. And I didn’t really like them, so I left.”
“What did they do to make you feel that way?”
Completely ignore me. Forget that maybe I needed to eat lunch since breakfast until dinner at nine o clock wasn’t going to cut it. Make me take care of their little spawn child while they went out at night. Forget that I was coming home late from Jason’s place and lock me out of the house. Did I mention the ‘no food’ thing for most of the day?
“All kinds of things. Living . . . somewhere else was better.” She wanted to say ‘living with Sheila’, but thinking about Sheila was not a good road to go down at the moment.
“Yes. And you got a part time job, at a local grocery store, received your drivers license. Why could you do none of those things with the McCarthy’s?”
“Because they were gone a lot and I had to watch their sp – their son.”
“So you had a great deal more freedom living with a friend.”
“Wow, yeah!” Robyn made her eyes go wide. “You hit it right on the money. You’re the best therapist *ever*.”
He didn’t find it as funny as she did.
“In your files, you were reported saying that you couldn’t go back there after the attack. Why couldn’t you go back to your friend’s house to retrieve your things?” When Robyn didn’t readily respond, he continued. “Was she a friend of your boyfriend’s?” Robyn nodded. “I see. Did you have any other friends you could have gone to?”
She squirmed in her seat. “Not really.”
“Was Sheila the only friend you had?”
Wasn’t therapy supposed to make you feel better? Robyn was growing uncomfortable and embarrassed with his probing, especially since the only answer she could think of to that question was ‘pretty much,’ if she didn’t count Derek and Jason. And since those three were out of the question, she really didn’t have any friends now. She didn’t have anyone missing her outside of this hospital. If something happened to her in here, no one would really care.
She kind of hated this therapist.
“I do have one friend.”
“Oh? And who is that?”
Robyn sat up in her seat. “Her name is Regan Mendola. She’s a patient here. Is she a patient of yours?”
He stared at her for a long time, and Robyn was positive he knew a lot about this particular person. He seemed to be gauging what to say to her.
“No, she is not a patient of mine.”
“Oh?” Robyn imitated. “Who is she a patient of?”
“I can’t tell you that, Ms. McCarthy.” He paused briefly, fidgeting with his pen holder, before clearing his throat and continuing. “How well do you know Ms. Mendola?”
“We’ve been talking.”
“Is that so?” She was making him uncomfortable and thoroughly enjoying it. “What do the two of you talk about?”
“All kinds of things. Why is she here?”
“She is not my patient, Ms. McCarthy, I couldn’t tell you.”
Liar. “When is she being released?”
He looked away from her and sat up in his own seat. “As I said before, she is not my patient. I am not sure when she will be released.”
How about never, if you doctors had it your way? “Aren’t you glad I made a friend?”
He cleared his throat again. “Yes, of course. I’m not entirely certain she’s the right kind of friend. She’s not a very stable young woman –“
“How would you know? She’s not your patient.”
Now she was irritating him. He glared at her, and before he could continue, Robyn added, “She’s just lonely, and I’ve been keeping her company. I just wanted to know why she’s by herself so much. How is she ever going to get better that way?” Robyn wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw guilt cross his face before he looked down at the open notebook sitting on his desk.
“That’s enough of that, Ms. McCarthy. Let’s talk about school again, shall we?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Regan couldn’t see anything. She was well aware that she was standing in the middle of a room, and that she was not alone. This was a fairly new exercise, and one she didn’t particularly care for. Maybe it was because of the blindfold.
“I want you to focus, Regan.” She didn’t let on that she heard him, but Dr. Corbett continued speaking through the intercom, on the other side of the glass Regan knew was there, but couldn’t see. “Open your mind to him. You have done something similar to this without the blindfold, but now I want to test your mind’s ability alone.”
He had done this before. Pitted her against another guard to see if she could anticipate his movements before he made them based on how he felt. Regan didn’t know the technical terms for it or how to properly explain it, but people gave off energy through emotion, and she learned years ago that it was fairly simple to read.
“Begin.”
Regan took a deep breath. She didn’t like not being able to see. Her entire world had gone black, and she could hear nothing from the other man. Nerves were starting to build up in her stomach, and she tried to ignore them as she cautiously opened her mind to her opponent.
He was nervous, as well. Confident in his ability to defend himself, but uncertain about what Regan would do. Well, he didn’t need to worry about that, because she didn’t know what she was going to do, either. For a moment, she thought she was going to flounder at this – and then Dr. Corbett would get mad and retract his promise to let her go back to her room if she did this. I don’t know if I can do this.
Yes, you can. Just relax. Regan took in another breath, and focused on where the man’s feelings and energy was coming from. Her head slowly tilted to the left. There. He wasn’t very far. Less than ten feet. Regan took a few steps forward, and she turned her head sharply as she sensed him – he was tense – move a few steps to the right.
She didn’t want to approach him. Regan knew some self defense from when she was a child – having a father in the military had its perks – but she stopped learning through circumstance. Since she came here, they brought someone in to teach her more self defense and some martial arts. Regan didn’t mind learning, but it bothered her as to why they would want her to know.
He was coming towards her, fairly quickly – the energy he was giving off loomed closer, a pressure on her chest, his determination clear in her mind, and Regan fought the urge to take a step back. The inky blackness in front of her eyes was daunting, and once again she fought off the claustrophobic urge to rip off the blindfold. Closer, closer, his resolve building, and when it peaked –
Regan thrust her arm out and blocked his hand, feeling her wrist make contact with the flesh of the back of his hand. She groped for his fingers, and grabbed on to two before twisting them back, bringing his arm down and into a lock. She felt his burst of pain, and gritted her teeth as it made her stomach lurch. Normally, if she had her shields up, she wouldn’t have felt it, but she was completely open to this man, so she felt the twinge almost as if it had been her.
In reaction, Regan pulled up her shields, and the pain faded to a dull ache. She could just barely feel his emotions, and he still gave off energy that she could pick up, although not as strongly. Regan didn’t pick up on the fact that his other arm was swinging towards her until it was nearly too late, however – even then, it grazed her temple. The next ten minutes were Regan barely moving out of the way of his hands and feet as she felt him rush at her, and retaliating with her own blocks and attacks, which came quicker as she grew more used to fighting without sight and relying on her ability to read him. He, on the other hand, was growing more aggressive, and she could feel bruises forming, a particularly nasty one on her shoulder.
Enough of this.
Regan felt for where he was again – just to her right, and as she felt the energy rushing at her again, Regan built up her own energy – built it until it thrummed through her, aching to get out. She *pushed* hard in his direction, feeling the force leave her and collide with him.
She heard him give a cry of surprise, and was fairly certain he might have gone airborne at some point. She heard him hit the back wall, and would have felt guilty about it if she hadn’t felt such relief at getting the energy out.
“Good,” came Dr. Corbett’s disembodied voice. “I’m pleased with your cooperation, Regan. Tomorrow we will consider moving you back to your room. Thompson, you may take her back to maximum security.”
*What?* Regan fought to quell her rising anger and irritation. What about today? She reached up and pulled off the blindfold. Bright light made her squeeze her eyes shut in pain, and she reached up and rubbed them. She wanted to go back to her room today. Better yet, she wanted out of here. More than anything. The more she thought about Dr. Corbett and these endless tests and experiments of his, the more pissed off she felt. If she could ever get her hands on that bastard doctor –
The guard grabbed her arm, and she turned to glare at him. He had something in his hand, and before she could discern what it was, his other hand touched high on her arm and she felt a small prick. Regan pulled away from him and stared incredulously. He shrugged and replied, “Doctor’s orders.”
It made her furious. Regan stared at the one-way mirror in the room, knowing he was behind it. Her anger manifested itself in a hairline crack through the glass that grew larger as it arched down. The intercom turned on. “Don’t be foolish, Regan. No tantrums. If you cooperate, you will get something in return. If you do not, then we up your dosage and maximum security becomes your permanent home.”
Helpless anger and frustration filled Regan, but she fought it back and stopped. The guard took her arm again and, not knowing what else to do, she let him lead her through the hallways. When they approach maximum security, she felt her chest tighten up again at the sight of the thick glass, chicken wire, and the rows of doors that housed girls even more unstable than she was. When she was back in her closet of a room and she heard the door slam shut and lock behind her, Regan resisted the urge to cry.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Regan woke up a few hours later, sprawled out on the bed with the sheet pooled down at her waist. Her arm was asleep and she couldn’t remember getting in the bed. She sat up, still feeling groggy from the dose of drugs.
She left the bed, stood up, and stretched. She felt a few bruised muscles twinge. She ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to get the tangles out, and instead of returning to the bed, Regan leaned against the wall and slowly slid down into a sitting position. She pulled one knee up to rest an elbow on and proceeded to try and forget the disappointment from earlier and the pressure building on the back of her skull from keeping her shields up for so long.
She really wished Robyn would visit. It had been almost two weeks since they put her in here, and Robyn had visited her every other day, sometimes a few days in a row, and Regan was getting spoiled by it. She liked it when Robyn sat and talked with her, and every time she left, the room was that much more dismal and depressing. It amazed Regan that despite Robyn’s own circumstances, she still managed to put a smile on her face and chat with Regan as if they were not in a mental hospital, but someplace where time could be idled away through conversation. She got the feeling from Robyn that she did not expect to be here all that long – and the thought of Robyn leaving and never visiting again was quite unbearable. Regan had forgotten how nice having a friend was.
She really wished she could get out of here.
Regan sighed, already beginning to feel defeated with this line of thought. She’d gone over this in her mind thousands of times. They would snatch her right back up, just as they had before, and she would be even worse off. She knew Dr. Corbett would make good on his threat to turn her into a vegetable except when he needed her.
Stop it. Stop thinking about it. Think about something else. But it was hard not to. She knew she didn’t belong here – hadn’t she screamed it when she first got here? She’d been in such a constant state of pissed off that it had been draining. She had refused to cooperate, to eat, to sleep. It had only made her frustrated, sick with hunger, exhausted, and half crazy with being around the real mentally ill people with their feelings hovering just above her own.
But you could get out of here if you really wanted to. Regan looked at the hand she’d clasped on her knee, turning white at the knuckles where she squeezed. If she was really honest with herself, then . . . yes. She could gather up all the energy and power trapped inside her, and unleash it on every doctor and nurse in here. She could really hurt people besides what she’d already done – she knew with this ability she was capable of doing much more damage – but every time she thought of doing it, had come so *close* to doing it . . . she couldn’t. No matter how much she thought of making Dr. Corbett hurt as bad as she hurt. She didn’t want to harm anyone, but after so long – God, how did so many months go by? – she could think of no other option.
I thought the point of this thinking exercise was to make myself feel better. She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself. She’d already thrown herself so many pity parties it was disgusting. When did you become such a pathetic, weak-willed person, Regan? When did you become your mother?
She squeezed her eyes shut. Was it just the drugs, or was she really going crazy? Or was that the truth and she couldn’t face it?
There you go again, sunshine. Think of something else.
“Like what?” she said aloud. And then she sighed.
She was so caught up in her own head that she wasn’t aware of people walking towards her door. She only turned her head when the lock clicked and the door opened.
When Regan saw the flaming red hair and baggy clothes on a slight frame, her mood immediately lifted. Regan felt . . . better when Robyn was around. Her thoughts were less jumbled, and she felt calmer; a little more in control. Something about this girl . . . she couldn’t pin it down.
Robyn stood in the doorway after the door shut. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
“Why are you sitting on the floor?”
“Can’t rest my back against the bed.”
Robyn smiled a little and sat down on the bed. She tucked a few stray red strands behind her ears and looked at Regan with the brightest green eyes she’d ever seen. Robyn spotted the growing bruise near Regan’s collarbone, and immediately concerned, asked, “What happened?”
“Experiment of Corbett’s.”
“Your doctor?”
Regan nodded. Robyn was getting angry, so Regan changed the subject. “What’s it look like outside?”
She didn’t want to talk about. Robyn let out a breath. “It’s sunny out. Angelina told me it was hot out, too.” The sunlight was so bright; it even forced Thora out of bed, who was still feeling the effects of her depressive episode. That alone had been wearing on Robyn for a while now, and she missed the old Thora terribly. She knew Thora was tired of feeling the way she did. Robyn didn’t want to think about that anymore, so she switched to the little question game they’d been playing for the past two weeks. The girls learned a lot about each other through the silly little questions they asked each other to pass the time. Robyn learned that Regan’s favorite color was purple, that her favorite food was Mexican, and that her only other talent was that she could draw and paint surprisingly well. And Regan learned that Robyn’s favorite color was blue, that her favorite food was any kind of sandwich, and that the only other talent she could think of was the ability to roll her tongue. Both of their favorite room in the house was the kitchen; their love for food was mutual.
Robyn moved to the floor, and they swapped questions back and forth, never really touching on their current situation but hitting everything else. The mundane questions were making Regan feel better and taking her mind off of everything else. She wasn’t sure Robyn knew how much this meant to her.
Robyn on the other hand, was gearing up to ask another question, and she hoped that Regan would respond to it this time. The brunette was looking at her quite calmly; Robyn was never sure if that was from the drugs or her natural disposition. She had one knee drawn up and was resting on arm on it, hand dangling limply from her kneecap.
“Can I ask you something?” Robyn finally blurted. Regan nodded. “I’ve just been thinking . . .” She rubbed the back of her shoulder uncomfortably. “You have this gift, and it seems like you can do so much more with it. How . . .?”
She didn’t want to say it. So Regan said it for her. “How is it that I’m still here?” Robyn nodded. “Outside of the hospital, I’m legally dead.”
“Get *out*,” Robyn exclaimed, eyes wide.
Regan pulled up her other knee and rested her chin on them. “Tranquilizer dart.” Robyn winced. “They set it up like I had died.” Regan smiled to herself. “I even have a tombstone.” With ‘Regan Mendola’ legally dead, that meant no birth certificate, no social security – no identity. It was going to be hard to get Regan out of here. But not impossible. Getting away from Nago wasn’t impossible. If she could do that, she wasn’t going to let a bunch of government types intimidate her. She wasn’t even technically American.
Regan was staring at her peculiarly, and Robyn pushed that feeling aside. “You know, it’s creepy when you do that.”
“Which part?” Robyn smiled a little weakly at that. “I can dull it if you’d like,” Regan offered. “But I can’t really ignore it. You’re sitting too close.” Robyn scooted back, and Regan smiled –a real smile that lit up her face, chasing away the solemn look she’d been carrying since Robyn met her, and making her look like what she was – an eighteen year old girl.
“It’s just a little weird,” Robyn admitted. “As long as you don’t let me know that you know when I’m feeling . . . stuff, I’m cool with it.”
“Just the important ‘stuff’.” They smiled at each other. She added, “Just because I have an idea doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear you say it.”
That was better. Robyn smiled brightly. “So, what will it take to get us both out of here?”
Regan stared at her, startled. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Regan shook her head slowly. “It won’t work. Do you know how many times I’ve tried?” She felt frustration well up in her yet again. It was like constantly hitting her head against a brick wall. She took in a slow, deep breath. “I’ve made it out of the hospital before.” That caught Robyn’s interest. “There’s a small town at the bottom of the hills.” She had gone careening down those hills, as fast as she could, after she’d thrown two orderlies to the ground and rendered them and a nurse unconscious. She knew the moment they went under, and she had darted towards where she was positive was an exit – short circuiting every camera along the way, and after running as fast as her legs would go down countless hallways and taking out a few more guards, she finally hit the door that led outside.
“I made it into a neighborhood. There were people already waiting for me.” When she woke up after getting taken out with another tranquilizer, she had been back in a hospital bed with Dr. Corbett shaking his head at her as if he was disappointed. “You’re too much for the outside world to handle anymore, Regan,” he had said. “We can take care of you here like no one else can. We – you - can put your abilities to better use than knocking guards unconscious.”
Regan hated talking about how fruitless her attempts at leaving were because it made her feel all the more useless and hopeless.
Robyn was shaking her head at her. The redhead still felt hopeful, and that dumbfounded Regan. Hope had left her a long time ago, and she didn’t know how many other ways she could spell out the futileness of the situation for Robyn.
“There’s got to be a way,” Robyn insisted. “I got out of – I’ve gotten out of a bad situation before, it’s not impossible. I know the government’s powerful and all, but they can’t be *everywhere*.”
Regan didn’t want what Robyn was saying to give her hope. It always, always got crushed somehow or another. That little flare of hope became painful and trampled so easily. “What put you in here?” she asked pointedly. “Since you seem adamant on speaking of uncomfortable topics, what was the bad situation you got out of?”
Robyn froze, and her fear spiked. She looked down at her hands. She’d been hoping the attention wouldn’t focus back on her. Regan kept her voice soft. “Someone hurt you?”
“Not in the way you think,” Robyn said quietly. She knew it was only fair to let Regan know, since she had shown Robyn so much already.
“Don’t feel obligated to tell me, Robyn.”
“We talked about this ‘not letting me know’ thing.”
“This checks under ‘important stuff’.” Robyn cracked a smile. There was still a part of her that thought Regan would scoff at the idea of demons and bizarre rituals, like a normal person would do, but if she really thought about it, why would she? She was just as supernatural. But in a good way.
“Are you – are you religious?”
Regan wasn’t expecting that question. “I used to be.”
“You – oh.” Robyn bit her lip. “Well, do you believe in things like heaven and hell? Demons, angels, that kind of thing?”
“To an extent.”
“I’ve met a demon.”
Robyn’s voice was small, and at first Regan didn’t think she heard her correctly. Waves of fear and shame came off of Robyn. Robyn truly believed that she had met one. Regan felt a curious dread fill her as she watched Robyn fight for control over the fear even mentioning it brought up. Her head was bowed, and her hands were curled into fists. Regan did the only thing that felt right; she reached over and lifted Robyn’s chin up with two fingers. Dark green met light green.
“Where?”
“New York City.”
“That’s a large ‘where’.”
“I – it was in a warehouse. I think it was in or near Brooklyn. I’d never been there before.” Robyn clutched her hands together in her lap until the knuckles were white.
“My – that was the wrong place to start.”
Regan had never felt Robyn so jumbled and lost. It was disconcerting, and it bothered her more than she cared to admit. She kept quiet, though. Robyn needed to say this out loud, and Regan was truly curious as to where this was going.
Slowly, Robyn told her about Jason, Derek, and Sheila. Meeting them, hearing about Nago – all the way up to the ceremony. It got harder to talk about – a painful tightening in her chest. Robyn kept her eyes to the ground for most of it, occasionally darting a glance up at Regan. Whenever she saw her gazing calmly back, she felt a little better, and was able to continue. By the time she was done, though, she realized that she was rocking slightly back and forth, and her cheeks felt wet. She wiped them with the back of her hand and, embarrassed, kept her head down.
If Robyn hadn’t been so horrified and scared while she told her story, Regan would have assumed she had hallucinated the whole thing. But Robyn was crying, and the emotions she was giving off were making Regan sick to her stomach. She wanted to reach out and hug Robyn, but she didn’t know if she should, and she wasn’t used to the whole touching thing anyways. But it looked like Robyn needed it, so she just needed to suck it up and try to make her new friend feel better.
So Regan leaned over and wrapped her arms around Robyn in a hug, who was more than happy to return it. She squeezed Regan tighter than the brunette had ever been hugged, and Regan was surprised that hugging Robyn actually made her feel a little better, too.
“Why do you feel ashamed?” Regan asked. Her chin still rested on the soft material of Robyn’s sweater.
“They told me things,” Robyn said, her voice muffled in Regan’s hair. “Even though I wasn’t willing, Kortez basically said there was something wrong with me. Something dark. That I was tainted. Born to be in that ritual.” Robyn shuddered. “And I just – I never expected my friends to turn on me like that. And I never expected everyone else would think I was crazy and send me to a mental hospital. I hate this place. I don’t know why life has to suck so bad – I mean, I couldn’t just fail a few classes or break up with my boyfriend, like a normal person. No, I have to get suckered into a demonic ritual and then get sent to the nuthouse.”
They pulled away, and Robyn scrubbed furiously at the wetness on her face, embarrassed for crying. “And they’re still looking for me. I know it. Kortez wants this ritual so badly, and they need me to finish it. I’m afraid that if I’m even in the same state, they’ll find me and make me go through with it. I can’t stay here and risk that.” Robyn sniffed and looked at Regan. “Do you believe me?”
Regan looked pensive. “I believe what you’re feeling. I don’t think the doctors are lying when they say you have post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“I’m not –“
“It doesn’t mean you’re crazy, Robyn, it means you’re trying to cope with a traumatic event. I can’t think of anything more traumatic.” Regan wasn’t sure – an ancient demon? Demonic rituals? There was still a small part of her that thought that maybe Robyn got another traumatic event confused with an imagined one, but another part of her was certain Robyn wasn’t lying. Regan wasn’t completely ignorant that there were things in this world that were different; unusual. People that she’d passed by on the street when she was younger, some of them had *felt* different – some of them had felt tainted, evil – and some felt more pure than anyone she’d ever encountered. Whether those individuals had been something more than what they seemed, she was never sure. Stop being a skeptic, she thought. You know there are strange things out there. You’re one of them. She’s terrified of whoever this Nago is. Robyn doesn’t feel like the sort of person to make something up. If Regan was honest with herself, the thought of truly believing Robyn meant that she would have to own up to the fact that there were demons out there – and that was a very unsettling thought. People were bad enough.
“You don’t believe me.” Regan had been quiet for far too long for Robyn not to catch that.
“I never said that.”
“I know it’s far-fetched, but it *happened*,” she stressed, gesturing with her hands. “I remember what it felt like. Just trust me. I wouldn’t lie.”
“I know you’re not lying.” Regan tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. It was a lot to digest. People who went by the title of ‘Lord’ and ancient demons that took souls. Regan suppressed a shudder. She still wasn’t sure, but she certainly felt Robyn’s terror, and *that* she believed.
The small room was quiet for a long minute before Regan broke it. “See what happens when we give in to peer pressure?”
Robyn laughed, leaned back, and hit her head against the bed.
“Ow!”
To Robyn's surprise, Regan snorted out laughter and hid her face in her hand, shoulders shaking.
Robyn rubbed the sore spot in the back of her head, irritated by her own clumsiness and pleased that she had made Regan laugh. "I'm glad you find my pain so amusing."
Robyn caught a flash of white teeth before Regan settled down. "I have never met anyone like you."
"Of course you haven't. You're living in a mental hospital. I'm not so special outside of this place," Robyn denied and shook her head.
Regan thought she was wrong. Robyn was shortchanging herself. If she had any idea what she was doing just by sitting with Regan and talking with her, she would know how special she was. Robyn, apparently, wasn't willing to give up on 'getting out of here' and was determined to take Regan with her, which staggered the brunette. Robyn genuinely wanted to get her out of here, too, because for some reason, she thought Regan was worth saving. She'd never met anyone willing to do that for her, and somehow, Regan wanted to show Robyn how much that meant to her.