Misunderstood Monsters

Chapter 32: Inner Demons

If I were Dr. Collingwood and I wanted to hide from everyone, where would I go?

John slowly walked towards where he instinctively knew she was - or at least, that was what he'd hoped. He'd had to backtrack countless times through the labyrinth of hallways that was the site. He and Billy had split up to cover more ground. All the while his mind was puzzling over what had happened today.

Why would Bloodfang do that? She didn't know that anomalies existed up until she joined the Foundation, so it can't be some slight from her like he keeps repeating ad infinitum. So what is it?

He'd lost focus on her location while thinking and would have walked right past her hiding spot had his keen ears not picked up a low, muffled murmur.

What was that?

He focused again and backtracked to a door. He cautiously reached out and pulled it open.

Dr. Collingwood was curled up into a little ball in the far corner of the room. She didn't seem to notice him, even as he inched closer and closer.

John slowly sat down next to her. "Dr. Collingwood?"

No response.

He raised his voice slightly, thinking he had been too quiet. "Dr. Collingwood?"

Still nothing.

He reached out to touch her shoulder. She flinched away.

"Go away," she whispered.

"Molly-"

"Go away!"

"Molly, please, I-"

She whirled around to face him, shaking uncontrollably. There were no tear marks on her face, but her eyes were red. He jumped when she raised her voice.

"Every year, it's the same. Every year on the eve of Mother's Day, everything, all my mistakes, my failures, my regrets come back to haunt me! The snake bite, Mom dying, the bullies, everything! Then when Mother's Day actually comes, all I can do is smile and pretend to be fine when I want to grab a knife and slit my throat with it, all in the name of 'professionalism'!" She practically spat the word out. John gulped and stepped back.

Her breath grew more and more uneven. "Then I go home and cry myself to sleep. It's been more than twenty years! Twenty! F*cking! Years! And I still can't get over it! And if that's not f*cking enough, Bloodfang was so kind as to etch a reminder of that day into my face!" She jabbed a finger at her scar. "It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault!"

A disturbing thought crossed John's mind. Dr. Collingwood couldn't be much older than 30. If her mom died over twenty years ago, she would've been a kid at the time. Edmund's death had destroyed him mentally and emotionally, and he was a fully-functioning adult at the time.

How badly has her mother's death damaged her? And how long has she been holding it all in?

Now she was shouting, still trying to force herself to not cry. She blubbered something more, but it was too incoherent to understand. Finally she stopped and turned away again, her body trembling from the effort of trying to hold it all in.

John hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached out and gently wrapped his arms around her. She resisted for a moment, before just burying her head in his chest.

John sighed. "Molly, it's not your fault. You had absolutely no control over Bloodfang's choices. And it's okay to grieve. In fact, it's necessary. Just let it all out." He gently rubbed her back.

Dr. Collingwood stopped trembling for a long moment. John held his breath, praying that she'd listened.

Then she burst into convulsive, gasping sobs. Her shoulders heaved and shook as she finally released years of pain and sorrow.

"B-Bullies... in high school..." she choked out. "Laughed... at me when.... I cried.  Said that... th-that I w-was a baby and should get over it..."

"It's okay, it's okay," he said assuringly. "I'm not going to make fun of you for being upset. I've gone through this sort of thing too. I understand."

She cried for what seemed like a whole hour, before finally beginning to quiet down. The two simply sat there, in that quiet, dark room. She turned her head and glanced up, just enough for John to be able to see her scarred eye. Tears were still streaming down her face.

"John?" she whispered. Her voice was hoarse.

"Hm?"

"I... I'm sorry for shouting at you like that."

"It's fine. You were upset and angry, and you have every right to be."

After a long while she calmed down enough to stop crying. John stood up and helped her to her feet, gently wiping away the tear stains on her face.

"John... I know I told you to leave me alone earlier, but now that you're here, I feel a lot better. Thanks for being here."

"No problem. Molly, just... if you ever feel alone, just remember that I'll always be here for you."