little angel ☼ kit walker

ix. mother dearest

     1962

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TWO HANDS gripped each other tightly, yet in a loving manner. Gemma Martin and Kit Walker were hauled up to Sister Jude's office, their shirts begin tugged and pulled at because they weren't walking 'fast enough'. Once they came upon Sister Jude's office, the couple was thrown into the chairs, Gemma's mother casting her a questioning look while the the guard, Benjamin, filled her in on the situation.

"I should've know this would happen." Sister Jude sighed, sitting down at her desk, her hands rubbing together. "You two are getting too familiar with each other to be 'doctor' and 'patient'." The nun paused, her eyes lingering to long on Kit's hand on Gemma's. "I don't want you socializing. Staring, touching or even glancing in each other's direction. You understand?"

"You can't do that!" Kit argued back at the nun.

Sister Jude frowned in Gemma's direction, "And, you, Dr. Martin, have nothing to say to that?" Her daughter didn't met her eye, her eyes gazed on the man's beside her. The blonde girl's expression faltered, once filled with nervousness and sadness was now changed with anger. "You're his doctor. Not his friend, his girlfriend or his sex partner. You're his doctor, and if I see you two even in a meter distance from each other – you'll both be back up here again."

Kit shuddered with anger, his arms were now being pulled up by the guard, "Put him in solitary for a day." Sister Jude demanded, Gemma turned to face Kit, a lonely tear falling down her cheek. Kit fought back with anger, only to have him slammed into the door before it busted open and shut closed with a loud 'bang'. Gemma wiped her cheek, sniffling quietly, Sister Jude stood from her chair. "I thought you were better than this, Gem. I'm truly disappointed. But, you will no longer be treating Kit. Dr. Martin, you have one last chance."

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Gemma Martin strolled through the hallways, her tired eyes never leaving the path in front of her. Her black heels dragged across the floor, while the length of her pencil skirt limited her to slow strides. The halls were quiet, even while she walked through the women's ward. Even the odd 'hello' was said in her direction, but she never repeated the kind action to the patients. She just continued her walk.

When she exited the ward, she eventually find herself back in the hall of her office. Dr. Threadson waiting outside her door, knocking his first on the wooden door; not taking the hint that she wasn't in there. "Dr. Threadson, do you require my assistance?" Gemma's voice asked, trying her hardest to conceal the excitement in her voice.

He turned to look at her, "Yes, Dr. Martin, I do." Oliver offered a smile as he guided her to his office further down the hall. "I heard about the incident with Mister Walker. I'm sorry to hear about your fate." He paused, entering his office and ushering her to sit in the opposite chairs from him. "But, you see, I must determine your 'state of mind' as Sister Jude worded."

Gemma's eyebrows furrowed, confusion twisting in her features. Her throat became dry, as she tried to spit out her words. "W-What? What fate?" As if poison was in her mouth, Gemma's stomach sink, unable to process the words in her mind.

Oliver Threadson sighed, leaning over his desk to grab paper and a pen. It felt so out of place for Gemma. She was normally in the place of Dr. Threadson, she was normally writing everything down. Asking the questions, recording them and trying to put the pieces together. Yet, Gemma sat in the opposite chair. Scared and unwillingly trying to come up with logical explanations to her being in this chair. "Miss. Martin, if you are willing to 'associate' yourself, with a person like Mister Kit Walker – there is truly something wrong with your sanity. I'm sure you know all of the questions, so if you could please comply, Miss. Martin, this process will go a lot smoother."

Gemma didn't answer, fidgeting around in the chair uncomfortably. She was on the verge of tears, the familiar feeling in her eyes burned, unable to stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Sniffling, she wiped her nose, "Dr. Threadson, why would my sanity be lost for my indiscretions? I do not understand."

Oliver folded his hands, setting them done on the desk in front of them. "Miss. Martin, you must understand, that Kit Walker has killed many women. His own wife, for that matter. What makes you think he wouldn't kill again?" The tone in his voice made Gemma shiver in her spot. The same feeling of uncertainty filling her body, just like the night Kit tried to escape. "You're not that special, Gemma. A man like Kit Walker could never love, a woman like yourself." Upon hearing those words, Gemma almost had to do a double take at Dr. Threadson.

Those aren't his words, she thought, those are your mothers.

"Dr. Threadson, you don't understand. Kit Walker didn't murder those women. He couldn't have! I ask him to describe the murders, to tell me what each lady looked like. He didn't know, he couldn't answer any question I asked him! He is innocent, and everyone knows it." Gemma formulated, her hands gripping the sides of the chair.

Dr. Threadson huffed, standing up from his chair he maneuvered towards the door. "Then, you're just as crazy as he is." He spewed, opening the door and motioning for two guards to walk in. "Take Miss. Martin to the initiation room. She is being checked in here for, compulsive lying and acute insanity." The doctor lied, as the guards gripped both of her arms roughly.

Tears flooded from her green eyes, as anger washed over her body. Her figure fought back against them, trying to pull herself out of their grasp as they tugged her like a rag doll. "This is an outrage! I'm not crazy! I'm not! He is! Doctor Threadson is a liar! A bloody liar!" She screeched, her arms wailing across her head.

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