3am (Eminem / Slim Shady Fanfic)

22. Stan

This is more of a filler tbh, and it's also kind of dumb, but oh well...

Robyn's P.O.V.

It has been months now.

And I haven't seen neither Marshall nor Shady, not since they got taken by the cops and eventually locked up in an insane asylum.

So far, the psychological evaluation they have given him, has determined Marshall to be insane and unable to stand trial, so the death sentence that he was originally expected to receive for all his crimes is out of the question for him. He is confined to a mental institution for the criminally insane instead, where he is supposed to stay until he is rehabilitated and able to be properly persecuted in the eyes of the law and receive whatever punishment the system deems fit for him then. Once again, most likely a lethal injection...

In the meantime, Marshall has become somewhat of a celebrity, even if it's all about his infamy. The Slim Shady Killer has terrorized Detroit for a sizeable amount of time after all anyway, claiming lives of so many innocent people, and him finally getting caught has caused quite a stir here.

Every day, there's a whole mob of people lined up right in front of the insane asylum he is currently being held in. All holding signs. Some demanding Marshall Mathers executed immediately, some strangely fascinated by him.

And every day I'm in those crouds as well, but the only thing I want right now is to just see him. I just need to lay eyes on him and make sure he's alright. Well, as well as possible can be in his current predicament. It kills me knowing nothing about him, like I don't even know if he's even Marshall or Shady right now, even if I do have some ideas, based on what I've been hearing...

"You already know that we can't let you in, miss," the front lady receptionist says to me for like a hundredth time as I make my way in, demanding the same thing over and over again since I've started coming here, looking wearily side-to-side. "Marshall Mathers isn't allowed any visitors. For one thing, it is just way too dangerous for anybody to see him as he gets too violent at times. The nurses have to keep him heavily sedated 24/7 in a reinforced straight jacket. Besides, why would YOU want to visit him anyway, after what he's done to you?"

So, she has seen me on the news. I'm currently a bit recognizable as well, to some people. Just for being the pitiful girlfriend of The Slim Shady Killer who had no idea who he was. One of his future victims the cops had rescued from him. That's the official story anyway.

"I just want the answers as to why," I reply back, my face completely emotionless and my eyes probably empty and hollow. "I want to know WHY he would do those things," I lie. It seems a perfect explanation to me for why an ex-girlfriend of a serial killer would want to visit him at the nut house. To get closure by demanding answers from him and hoping that whatever he says would ease her internal guilt and convince her that no, nothing was wrong with her after all for ever being in a relationship with somebody like that in the first place and missing all the signs.

"Well honey," the receptionist softens up towars me somewhat. I think she feels bad for me. "Like I said, I am so sorry, but you just can't. Consider yourself lucky to have gotten away from him, though," she whispers. "That man is a monster."

How very unprofessional of her. Despite of what she thinks of him, Marshall is in fact a patient at this clinic, and yet, all of the staff here seems to hate him. And him being what he is, it somehow makes them think it's okay for them to break the patient confidentiality rule as well, see how she just told me about the doctors having to constantly sedate Marshall to keep him in check?

Not that it's that big of a secret anyway. It's been leaked to all the papers. The "scary" rumors about The Slim Shady Killer being freakishly strong. The fact that he's killed several staff at this facility already since being confined in here. The fact that he needs to be handled by multiple people at once whenever he goes into one of his violent outbursts. The shock treatments he is apparently being given.

Hearing about all that makes me so angry and I just want to get him out of there. I didn't even think any of that stuff they supposedly do to him in there was even legal, their methods of dealing with him seeming outdated, archaic. And yet, apparently, everybody turns a blind eye to it, since Marshall is a confessed serial killer.

Now, I walk out of the facility and roll my eyes at all of the damn protesters outside. None of them know him like I do, so fuck him.

I continue walking, keeping my head down and not wanting to be recognized either.

"Hey, wait!!" A voice calls behind me and I just keep right on walking because I do not want to be bothered, like I said.

"You!! Robyn!!" Whoever it is says my name, which only causes me to speed up the pace.

I seriously couldn't get to my car fast enough.

The keys jungling in my trembling hands, I quickly unlock the drivers door and get in.

"Wait, dammit, I said wait!!" Some guy is knocking on the driver's side window, urging me to roll it down.

No way in hell, dude.

"Get the fuck away from my car!!" I snap, noticing that he's wearing scrubs with the name of the facility Marshall is being held in printed on them and a blavk beany on top of his head. So, he works in this shit hole...

"I really need to speak to you," the guy states.

"Well, I have nothing to..." I start to say, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I know what the deal is with you and Shady," the guy says then, just as I'm about to roll up my window. He puts his hand on the glass to prevent me from doing so. "He talks in his sleep sometimes. When we tranquilize him," he calmly states, regarding me with a smug smirk. "I know you are not nearly as innocent in this whole thing as everybody thinks, girl. I know you've done some things too."

My facial expression must betray some level of panic then, despite of me trying to keep it completely neutral, because he then says:

"Don't worry though. I won't tell nobody. But just... Let me talk to you for one minute though. You might be interested in what I've got to say."

He makes his way around to the passenger side of the car, and I hesitate for a few seconds. Then pop the locks and allow him to get in.

"So hi, nice to meet you. My name is Stanley Mitchell. But you can call me Stan."

"Okay," I reply back, not really caring what his name is. I am a lot more interested in what his deal is and why does he want to speak to me so badly.

"Look Robyn, I really am a friend," Stan then says. "See," he pulls off his hat, revealing to me that his hair is bleached just like Marshall's is and cut short in the same exact fashion.

What the actual fuck?!

"You see, the thing is that I truly admire what Slim Shady does," Stan then says with a fanatical gleam in his eyes. "This whole world is shit, and Shady lit it on fire. He deals with motherfuckers and biyches and sluts exactly how they how they are supposed to be dealt with, and I admire that. And I ain't alone in that neither. There's plenty more of us just like myself, Robyn. And we will help you break him out. But we would only have one shot at it though. One opportunity."