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Before they got a chance to say what they were there for, the man working Eichen's front desk slid a clear bin across the desk expectantly. "Please empty your pockets into the container," he said with a blank face.
Standing to the left of Lydia, Darcy eyed him warily. As soon as she'd stepped foot inside the building, her hair had stood up on the back of her neck in warning. She looked over at Scott, who was giving the man at the desk a confused look.
He started to say, "We're here to see-" but was interrupted as the orderly repeated the same phrase from earlier.
Darcy read his name tag- Schrader - and made sure to remember it in case they met an untimely demise in the very near future and had to point the cops in his direction. She hesitated in handing over her things even if they were just her phone and a tube of chapstick, but once she saw the others complying, she relented. She placed her things in the bin with a sigh through her nose and was glad she didn't have a full purse to give like Lydia.
"Please remove your belt and place it into the container," Schrader said, looking at Kira. His voice- bored and uninterested- betrayed his face, which told them they mildly amused him. Darcy had no idea why since they hadn't even done anything.
"I kind of need the belt. I mean, it's crucial to the outfit," Kira said, almost shyly.
"Please remove your belt, which patients will attempt to take from you and use to strangle either themselves or others."
With a jump of her heart, Kira began to slide off her belt. "Right. Got it." She put it in the bin with the rest of their stuff. Darcy looked up from it to see the man's gaze directed at Lydia. She frowned, looking from him to the redhead. When she saw Lydia's eyes flit away and smelled the unease roll off of her, Darcy stepped between them. She crossed her arms against the man's revolting stare, and his eyes quickly darted away.
She stared defensively at him for a second longer before turning toward the sound of the opening door to their left. Dr. Conrad Fenris- a friend of Deaton's, according to Scott- stood in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him. Without a word, he turned and started down the stairs. The five of them didn't hesitate to follow.
It was silent until they made it down a flight of stairs, and then the doctor spoke up. "I'll remind you that I'm only doing this as a favor to Deaton. And I'm doing it against my better judgment."
Ignoring the jab, Stiles said, "Hey, what's the etiquette for talking to this guy? I mean, do you ever look at the other eye?"
"I wouldn't. In fact, while you're down here, try not to make eye contact with anyone or anything."
Darcy frowned. "That's comforting," she muttered.
Stiles looked at her and replied, "You're the one who wanted to come."
