Sarcasm- an AHS/Hiasobi crossover fic

Part One

Oh no, he started another story.

-det

"Can you tell me why you're here, Mr. Walker?"

The doctor looks over his glasses at me, a bored expression lining his wrinkled face. He sits poised, a notebook in his lap and a pen held carefully in his hand, which he taps on the paper rhythmically. I squirm in the chair- leather, of the squeaky variety. I don't answer his question. He knows damn well what I'm doing here, he just wants to hear me say it. Admit it. Prove that I'm crazy.

Therapy.

  After a few minutes of tense silence, the doctor sighs and writes something down on the paper in his spidery handwriting. One hand goes up to rub his balding head. I twitch, uncomfortable. I'm mentally mapping out the quickest way to escape this office if the moment calls for it. My eyes shift, taking careful note of each window, heavy items that could be used as a weapon.

The doctor watches me in my jittery form. After a while, he seems to come to a conclusion.

  "Mr. Walker, you know that nobody here is going to hurt you. You're here to get help. You're safe."

He speaks slowly, determined to make me believe him. To trust in him. I'm skeptical.

"Your case says that you believe that you can control the elements at will. Correct? That the burning of that man at the bar wasn't on purpose, but of your own anger at his actions, that you didn't mean to kill him or set him on fire, but it was merely a manifestation of your anger. Am I correct?"

I feel the anger burning up in me, the fire inside struggling to get out. I swallow hard.

  "I didn't mean to kill him. I didn't even mean to let the fire out. It just happened-- I couldn't control it." I say, agitated. The man had been harassing some women at the bar, ignoring their attempts to get him to stop. I got angry. The fire though- that was new. I first discovered my power over the elements at a young age. Only recently has it been that I can feel it clawing at me on the inside to get out when I'm angry or upset.

He levels his eyes at me, unconvinced. Of course. None of them believe me. It sounds crazy. Controlling the elements using only my mind? If it wasn't me, I wouldn't believe it either. Never thought it'd make me end up in an insane asylum.

The doctor stands, closes his notebook.

  "That's all the time we have for today, Mr. Walker. We'll continue this time next week."

I stand up and shove my hands in my hoodie pockets, slouching at the door. Before I open it, I turn around. "Den. My names Den. Not 'Mr. Walker'" I say. I slam the door on my way out.

Not sure of where to go, I end up in the main room with the other inmates. Cringing at the sight of crazy people around me, I slouch over to a couch and sit down on it, eyes cast downwards. I avoid the other inmates eye contact. Don't want anybody getting too friendly with me. I'm not one of these people.

I lean my head back, feeling ridiculously out of character. Usually, I'm a fairly light-hearted person. But, upon arriving at this hellhole a little over a week ago, It seems all the happiness has been sucked out of me and replaced with anger and sarcasm.

  The couch dips down as someone sits down next to me. I turn to the offender and growl.

 "Get out of here you fucking psycho," No need to be polite when everyone around you is certifiably insane.

The offender in question looks to be about my age. He wears the same Asylum-issue grey shirt and bottoms. He sports a septum ring and a mop of shaggy strawberry-blonde hair. His most shocking feature, however, is the loss of his left arm, which ends at the elbow.

  "Oh, get off your fuckin' high horse, would you? You're not the only sane person in this pit." He says, voice calm with a dangerous undertone to it. I examine him again. His golden eyes have a sort of steeled look to them. He's not on any medication. Doesn't seem like the others in this place. Still, I'm suspicious.

  "Okay, look you don't have to say anything. Just keep your head down and listen. If they figure out that we're having a somewhat normal conversation, we'll be separated. I know you're not crazy. We've been watching you. The others are in the co-ed room. Dunno if you've been down there yet, but we actually can mix with the girls in this joint. But, anyway, my point is--You and I? We're not the only sane people here. Not even close. I don't know your story, but I'm willing to bet something happened to you, right? Something unexplainable."

I narrow my eyes, staring straight ahead. Processing this new information.

  "How do you know this?" I murmur. He leans on the couch's arm.

  "Because, that's me. And a helluva lot of the people here too. Something happens? They bring us here, lock us up safe and away from the public eye so we can't cause trouble." The guy sounds bitter. He clenches his fist.

  "Look, you can choose to wallow here on your own. But, if you want to meet other people like us, come to the co-ed room. 12:00 tonight."

  I furrow my brow, worrying one of my lip piercings with my tongue. "Not possible, they lock the cells at night. I've already tried to pick the lock,"

The guy lets out a low chuckle. In another situation, I would have found it attractive and probably tried to hit on him, but something tells me this isn't the place to be flaunting my bisexuality.

  "Leave that one to us. Oh, and by the way; Names Kira Hoshino. Nice to meet you," Kira says wryly. I nod curtly, deciding against shaking his hand. No need to draw in unnecessary attention to us.

  "Den Walker. Nice to meet you,"

Kira nods and stands up. He shakes his bangs out of his eyes.

"See you later, Den," He whispers, offering me a small smile before turning and leaving the room briskly. I watch his back as he leaves, noting how the guard at the door nods at him. This guy is respected here-- That much I can see. He'll be a powerful ally to help me get out of here.

  Well then, Kira. Lets see what you have to offer.