Schizoid

:.Neurotic.:

Start the song in the media. It's Please Be Naked by The 1975. This is my favorite chapter in the story so far. Schizoid is only 14 chapters long, 16 if you count the Introduction and Epilogue. The end is nigh. Enjoy!

Jenna grips the wheel tightly as she turns it to make a left at Belle Reve's entrance. She eyes Mark for a fleeting second as he obliviously slides off his glasses, pulling his lens cleaner out of his pocket before rubbing them over the prescription plastic. Her breathing is calculated: in through the nose, out through the mouth. She parts her perfectly pink lips to allow the carbon dioxide to pass. She watches Mark out of her peripherals as he puts his square-framed spectacles back on, fitting them perfectly to rest on the bridge of his nose.

"Why are you so nervous?" The man asks, breaking the silence.

Jenna rolls her eyes. "You're a psychologist, not a behavioral analyst."

"I don't need some fancy degree to know when you're nervous," Mark points out. "It's like sometimes you forget that I actually know you."

"I don't forget," Jenna disagrees, "I just don't talk about it. Aren't you the one that told me to stop taking things personally?"

Mark laughs as Jenna pulls up to a security window, flashing her credentials before the officer raises the barrier. "Why are you so nervous?" he repeats.

"I don't know," Jenna sighs. "It's just like... I made a lot of progress with him yesterday. What if he totally shuts down after I bring you in here?"

"Do you think he will?"

"I don't know. He's still all weird around me, don't you think that bringing in a guy that's older than him will... I don't know, make him uncomfortable?" She throws the car in a parking space expertly, turning it off and resting her head on her hands, which are still clutching the wheel.

"Hey," Mark says comfortingly, patting her on the back, "we'll see what happens. Everything will be okay."

Jenna nods before perking up, running her fingers through her hair and clapping her hands together. She opens her door and steps out, which incites Mark to do the same. Once in Belle Reve, Mark keeps straight toward Central Containment.

"Mark," Jenna calls, stopping and cocking her head. "This is our turn. The East wing is this way."

"We're not going there," the doctor answers, continuing to walk. Jenna runs to catch up with him, making a sound of frustration. "I didn't bring any of my equipment. We're going to the asylum."

"What?" Jenna screeches. "No, Mark, that place is scary. You're gonna freak him out!"

"What else do you expect me to do? I have some tests to run and I need the monitors from the asylum." He looks down at Jenna's worried eyes. "It'll be okay, it's not that bad."

"Maybe not for you," the blonde mumbles.

"Jenna!" Mark calls out in irritation.

"Okay, okay," the woman replies, throwing her hands up as a sign of surrender. The duo walks in silence through the establishment. It grows darker and more musty as the trek toward Central Containment continues. The thud of Jenna's trademark ankle boots echos off the grey walls, making the scene all the more eerie. Mark scratches at the back of his neck as he approaches the clearance door. Jenna follows after him; he clearly knows his way around the facility. She wonders if that has something to do will the offer he'd received to work at the asylum, but chooses not to ask. Mark presses a button, which causes a buzz loud enough to make Jenna jump in surprise. Next is a click, followed by a muffled voice saying something that Jenna can't understand. Obviously, though, Mark was able to distinguish the language. He answers by stating his last name clearly. Immediately after, there's another click, and then the door finally is unlocked.