Storm- Stiles Stilinski

Chapter Two

My eyes fluttered open and were met with the sight of cream padded walls and floors dimly lit by a white-washed light. I was disorientated as my body came off the drugs before the memories came flooding back in a whirlwind of emotions.

What did the voices mean? Their riddles messed with my head causing me to doubt myself and everyone around me. And those lights, what did they mean? That was a new development in the whole 'I'm losing my mind' downspiral and was even more confusing. And how, the minute I locked eyes with him, the voices faded, it was almost as if he brought me back.

The door swung open and the woman I punched in the stomach stood with her hands on her hips, a don't-cross-me expression on her face.

"I'm here to escort you to your group therapy session." she stated coldly whilst pulling me to my feet with a grip that wasn't the least bit friendly.

She dragged me through corridors that looked exactly the same until we emerged into the courtyard. I breathed in the fresh air and sighed in relief. The woman huffed and pulled me across the courtyard to the porch area where the group usually met. I could see Morelle, the woman who took the session and a scattering of Eichan regulars but there was a new addition. The boys hazel eyes widened as he took in my wrecked appearance. The orderly pushed me in the chair and Morelle offered me one of her knowing smiles.

"I want to go back to the topic of guilt today. It might suprise you to hear me say that guilt is a good thing," Morelle started without a beat of hesitation.

"It's a rather mature emotion." She finished and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair aware that the orderlys were watching me closely.

"Lucinda," Morelles voice rang out and I looked up into her wise eyes.

"You said something about guilt the other day, said that it come with a visceral reaction." she said making me sound way smarter than I actually was.

"I said it made me feel sick to my stomach." I deadpanned. I was not in the mood for a therapy session, knowing that I was being assessed on every single thing I said kind of took away that 'you can tell me anything' crap.

"Guilt often becomes physical, you feel it in your gut." Morelle continued but her eyes were on the boy who now had my attention too. He was hunched over in his seat, nervously biting his nails.

"It's not just psychological." He was now looking at an orderly who was talking to another orderly. His eyes held fear and something else that I couldn't place.

"How does guilt make you feel, Stiles?" Morelle asked and the boy looked up. Stiles, his name was stiles. It fitted him.

"I'm sorry, what?" he was flustered and distracted but I couldn't work out why.

"Guilt, what does it make you feel?" she asked again her voice smooth.

"Nervous." he said rubbing his hands together repetitively.

"Like a sense of urgency?" Morelle asked her voice less smooth now.

"You feel an urgent need to make up for something that you've done," It was more of a statement than a question that Morelle said.

"To apologise." She finished. Stiles' body was tense and his fingers rubbed circles onto his thighs.

These are healthy responses." Morelle continued but I wasn't listening, I was watchin Stiles' start to tremble, his face ashen grey.

"Does anyone know what we call someone who doesn't experience guilt?" Morelle asked and Oliver raised his hand.

"A sociopath?" he offered and Morelle smiled.