Mental (Lams)

Chapter Two

John Pov
I put on my coat and started to head out the door.

"Jack! John! Laurens! Johnny boi!" Herc called.

"Yeeess?" I asked, leaning on the front door.

"Look, just be careful alright? That place is...it's nerve wracking, Alright? Just try to remember that the guy you're going to go give therapy to or whatever the fuck..he's insane, alright?"
Herc said, looking at me with almost scared urgency.

I smirked.

"I'll be fine, okay? I ain't a pussy like you and Laf." I said, walking outside.

"..forgetting something?" He asked.

What? I have
wallet,
phone,
keys-

Wait.
Keys.

He held my keys out and smirked. "Thanks." I said, swiping them from Herc and heading to my car.

On the drive there, that's when my anxiety grew.

What if they don't put a guard near by, and he kills me? I mean, I read his file and what I got from it, he's manipulative as fuck.

Five fucking therapists in two months. Two.
Months.

They all quit because he scared them to the point of leaving and wrapped them around his finger, then just really slammed them with words.

Sherlock Holmes,
but scary.

Umm, bitch what?

Sherlock Holmes plus scary would equal, like Moriarty.

But why wouldn't she just say Moriarty then?

Does that mean he's beyond that level of...
of madness?

Alexander Hamilton,
patient number 239.

That's what the file said.
I've learned that he's extremely intelligent and master of manipulation. So could he be a sociopath?

That wouldn't make sense because sociopaths act impulsively..
but no he knows what he's doing.

What he did, do anyway.

He kills for a reason, not out of impulse.

But how?
What gave him that ability to get inside peoples heads?

Maybe I'm overthinking it.
Maybe the file over exaggerated and he's not as manipulative as he may seem.

I pulled onto a thin road.

The building had big metal fences on the outside. I stopped the fence entrance.

"Who are you?" The guard asked.

"John Laurens..I was hired to give therapy to Alexander Hamilt- erm...patient 239? I-I have this card thing.." I muttered, pulling my ID from my pocket.

The guard looked it over then handed it back.

"Ms.Schyuler told me about you. You may enter." He said, opening the gates.

"Thanks." I said, driving past.

I parked and walked into the highly secured building. I was stopped a few times and showed my ID.

A guard,
named Aaron Burr, he told me at least his name in our awkward small talk, led me to a small room, for the therapy session.

"Look be careful with this one Alright? He can read people like a god damn book, so I'm telling you now, beware." He said.

I nodded and sat down at the desk. I pulled the file out of my bag and sat it on the table.

I read it over and over like the words would change.

Newsflash,
they didn't.

"Mr.Laurens? Are you ready to see him?" Burr asked.

I closed the file and cleared my throat.

"Yup.
Yeah.
Yes.
Yes, I'm ready to see him." I confirmed.

The door opened and my god I did not expect what I saw. I expected some big and bad shit but nope.

The man was about 5'5,
auburn hair tied back,
and he had really narrow shoulders.

Not necessarily feminine, but he had a small figure overall.

He wore an all white jumpsuit with his hands behind him, most likely handcuffed.

His face was emotionless.

The guard walked him forward to his chair and asked,
"Do you want him to be uncuffed or keep his handcuffs on sir?"

"Uh..off? Yeah. Take them off." I said.

The guard did as he was told and left the room. I saw through the small window on the door that he stayed right outside.

"So..Alexander. Tell me about yourself." I said, fiddling with my pen.

I honestly really wanted to know what he'd say.
How often is it you meet a real life Sherlock Holmes?
But scarier.

He doesn't look scary.
Wait.
Oh shit that's what makes him scary, isn't it?

He doesn't look intimidating but once he gets you...
holy damn it makes sense now.

He locked eyes with me.

He started to look me up and down, not in a superior way, he looked almost..
curious.

He made his way back to my eyes, and his lips curled into a smile.

"Oh, Mr.Laurens I think we'll have fun." He said playfully.

Oh my god.
This is actually terrifying.

"What would you mean by that?" I asked, chewing on my pen.

He didn't answer.

He looked down at his lap then back at me. He looked me up and down again, less curious more studying.

"..Alexander?" I asked.
"Yes sir?" He hummed.

I decided to ditch asking him to elaborate on what he said and repeated my first statement,
"Tell me about yourself."

"Left handed." He said.
"What?" I asked.

"You're left handed, aren't you?"
He asked, staring into my eyes.

"Yes?.." I muttered.

He gave me a slight nod.

"You read the file about a hundred times, haven't you?
Oh who am I kidding?
Of course you did.
Not only is the paper in a put away cleaned style, which only proves my point of you having to just had put it away,
you've glanced at it three times in the past,
I don't know,
heh..
yeah I do..
a hundred eighty seven seconds that I've been in here." He said, quickly.

Alright.
Holy shit.
So far, not manipulative...
only mind blowing deduction.

He stared at me for a good thirty seconds.

"Born and raised in South Carolina. You left for...
College in...Arizona?
Wait.
No.
You don't have the..
tan line.
Have you been to Arizona?
Obviously not, but damn it's hot there. Anyway, back on track, you went to college in New York, got your psychology degree and came back to South Carolina to work at this barn full of crazies and...
your motive was...
to get above the fold in the papers.
Am I right?" He rambled on, stopping at the question.

I didn't say anything.
I didn't know what to say.

"Who am I kidding, of course I'm right." He muttered.

Real life Sherlock Holmes.
Holy shit.
I'm scared and it has barely even started.