The World Turned Upside Down ||.lams.||

1

John missed Thomas so much.  The only person who had ever cared about him.  Sure, thinking about the man sometimes caused him to scream and claw at himself to get away from the feeling of being used, but that's how it was normally.  That's what Thomas has told him.  And Thomas was always right, Thomas provided him with food and care and love.

It made John so angry to sit in a therapy session with a woman who didn't know Thomas or John at all and tell him that what he felt was wrong.  It made him so angry that no one stopped to ask how he felt, what he thought of Thomas. And in the rare occasion they, every word that came out of his mouth was apparently wrong.

Out of the 5 levels of the ward, John was on the 3rd level. The higher up you are, the worse off you are. The first floor was for the outpatients, the people who had appointments weekly, and the extremely mild people, like the mild disorders. The second floor was the people who have harmed themselves or others, but aren't nessecarily at risk of harming anyone again, such as former or recovering addicts, addicted to anything from self mutilation to drugs. The third floor is the people who wouldn't be able to function in society productively, and are harmful to both themselves and/or others.  Fourth and fifth floor are grouped into the patients who need complete watch and help with everything.  There's also the basement, but no one talks about that.

Right now, John was confined to the punishment room, which was a cliche white padded room, soundproofed.  John hated that room so much, yet he was sitting in the middle of it, having the beginnings of an anxiety attack creep into his mind.  Because being alone never had a positive outcome anymore.

When he was with Thomas, the man would leave him alone to go to work, so he would wait happily for the return of him.  Or Thomas would leave him alone if he was bad.  If he tried to say no to anything, if he fought back
against the man, John would be left alone.  Not given food.  And when he was rescued from his isolation, pain and punishment always followed.  Now, there wasn't pain, but thoughts of horrible things.  Of Thomas, or his parents, of being home and safe and comfortable.

What John hadn't planned for was for someone else to join him in the room.  A short man, although taller than him, was brought in.  The man seemed younger, not much older than John himself, who was 18.

He wasn't expecting his new guest to be yelling and twisting with an off look in his eyes.  He wasn't expecting for the man to look at him, freeze, then break away from the nurses and charge.  Before having any time to think, the newcomer was jumping on him.  He felt the sickeningly familiar feeling of hands around his neck, and the anxiety attack that had been circling hit him as well.

Memories of when Thomas wasn't caring for him rushed into his mind.  "No!!  Sir!  Please!"  It was an immediate reaction for John now, begging for the pain to stop, for the strong hands to leave him alone.  His consciousness was being stolen from him with every failed intake of oxygen. 

The newcomer above him morphed into a familiar face.  Dark eyes and skin, crazy curly hair that covered his whole vision.  The malicious look of a crazy man, yet a man that John loved.  Then he was being taken away, Thomas being pulled away from him, him being pulled away from Thomas.  And Thomas was gone, replaced by the newcomer, who had gone still.

The man's eyes were wide, the odd look leaving them, a blank look replacing them.  Then the wave of sadness, tears filling them, and then he was crying.  John stared at him, breathing heavily and gently touching his now rebruised neck.  He knew from the feeling he would be 'marked.'

"I'm sorry!"  The newcomer spoke, a deep, smooth voice.  "I didn't mean to.. I c-couldn't control it!"  He yelped nervously, trying to approach John, but being pushed away.

And he hadn't realised it until one of the nurses asked him to stop that he was mumbling to himself.  He couldn't stop, and he began to rock himself as the newcomer and the nurses watched him.

"I'm sorry sir.  I'm sorry sir.  Don't mark me again."  John kept saying.  Over and over and over and over.  He settled into it, as he used to.  And the newcomer watched as John's eyes glazed over, as his body trembled and rocked back and forth, repeating phrases to himself.  Then something happened that disgusted him.  John flushed, shuttered, and then relaxed, seeming to fall asleep.

"Alexander."  He heard a nurse say, and he looked at her.  "Be careful.  We'll have camera's watching in care either of you have an attack."

Alex nodded.

~~~

What have I done