I'll Help You Hide From Them

Insanity

I'm escorted into the psychiatric ward until they reach an empty room. I stare at the sturdy metal door and the stripped down bed with padded leather straps.

All that's missing is the straightjacket.

"The second we hear news of your therapist's return, we'll turn you over to his care. Does that sound fair detective?" One of the nurses ask me.

"Yes it does." I murmur politely.

"Good, we found that you've been prescribed sleeping pills by your therapist. We've got them here for you so you can rest as normally as you can." The nurse explains.

"How's my partner?" I ask them, still not making eye contact.

I can hear them hesitate. "Ralph passed away, his brother Kier is recovering from his attack surprisingly well. You'll be able to speak with him when you pass your psyche evaluation." They try to be optimistic at the end.

"If, not when." I correct them. "Probably not going to happen at all at this rate."

The nurse holds out a small tray with a cup of water and the familiar pills next to it. I reach out with my right hand to collect the pills while my left goes for the cup. I down both of them quickly, mechanically doing what I'm told without getting annoyed when they ask me to open my mouth to prove that I've swallowed them.

They lie me on the bed, strapping me down with the padded leather straps.

I guess they must believe Laurence in that I was responsible for the whole ordeal.

The thought doesn't bother me all that much, probably due to the sleeping pills taking effect.

-

I wake up to a figure holding a strong scent under my nose.

"Brother." Jake's voice whispers.

"I'm dreaming, you're not really here." I murmur tiredly.

"Think what you will. I'm here to tell you to stay in the psychiatric ward for as long as possible. The shooter is probably preparing something for when you get out. You've been through enough brother. This is the perfect opportunity to surrender." He tells me.

"Need to find Ralph." I weakly admit.

He gives me a sorry look as he rests his hand on my forehead. "You're not feeling well Drew. You can't expect to be able to fight a war with the shooter and the police who will think you did it like this." He points out.

"I'll be okay, I just need to find our real mother and father and I'll have all the help and support I need." I reply.

He's not convinced. "Drew, they wanted us out of their life for a reason. You don't even know their names!" He argues.

"Their names would be blacked out in case files and no one will tell me anything!" I snap at him.

"Drew, please, give up. You can't keep going as it is. You're not making a difference." He warns.

"I HAVE TO TRY!" I shriek.

He goes quiet to listen to hear if we'll be having company, sighing in relief when he can hear another patient screaming about a beast on the ceiling elsewhere in the psychiatric ward.

"I d-don't want to live or die l-like that..." I feel my eyes watering up.

"I heard a few rumours underground. The cannibal of yours is hiding out in an abandoned garage. How do you want me to give you the address?" He asks, clearly doubting my mental state.

"How are you here?" I weakly ask.

"You can infiltrate anywhere when you put your mind to it." He tells me.

"Tell me the address." I try to sound like I normally do.

He nods, giving me an address. He notices that my focus isn't what it should be so he explains. "Brother, I trust your memory but here you're taking meds which affect your memory and thought processing. Try to avoid thinking too much about it." He offers. "You're safe here."

"It's your fault they think I'm crazy!" I growl at him, remembering all the times his name was dropped as Leonardo's men had me.

"The shooter has driven you to this mental state. I have only done what I think works out best for all of us. The fact that even with the information I had given them, you would've been able to outsmart them shows that you're not at one hundred percent." He points out.

"I'll get my reputation back and catch you." I growl at him.

His eyes light up playfully. "I can't wait brother, get well first though." He suggests before letting me go back to sleep.

-

That all feels like a dream the next day, when I'm given a breakfast tray by some nurses.

I eat what I'm given, surprised when a doctor enters the room, sitting and watching me for a while.

"Who are you?" I ask bluntly.

"I'm Dr Anthony, one of the leading doctors on psychiatric disorders this facility has to offer." He cockily reports.

"And you're here to diagnose me." I work out.

He nods. "I've honestly had a professional interest in you detective for a while." He adds. "It's not often we get a celebrity of some kind be a patient of ours."

"Since those articles." I murmur.

He nods. "Even now there's more coming out. You've become a topic of interest for the public, a real life Crime drama as it were." He points out. "How do you feel about that?"

"Violated and trapped." I admit.

He smirks a little at hearing me say this, suddenly making it very tough for me to even consider opening up to him.

Could this be the shooter? Someone who would spy on me from a distance and set things up to meet me?

No, that's something Shane would probably do if he wasn't working for the shooter. My brother must be right, the shooter is enjoying sending me around in circles.

"Have you heard any news on the whereabouts of Dr. Illingworth?" I ask upfront.

"He's still unreachable." He answers before countering with another question. "Do you feel overall safe in your daily routine?"

"I don't have a daily routine, I've been under security to be safe. I'm sure you understand how that affects how safe I'll actually feel." I snarl at him. "I need to speak with Kier right now."

"Your friend is injured and needs rest." He tries.

"I need to talk to him!" I tell him sternly.

"You're prone to aggression, aren't you Detective Woolnough?" He smirks.

"I told you, let me see my partner." I warn.

I'm frightened when a needle appears in my arm, finding that one of the nurses put it in.

"Good job nurse, he needs to be sedated before he hurts himself or others." Dr Anthony smiles at her.

"Son of a..." I hiss as the needle is pushing the sedative into my system.