one shots (remington leith)

misunderstood

Warnings:
I mean nothing disrespectful to anyone with or know anyone with a mental disability. This is a creative idea based off the straight jacket Rem wears in "You'll be Fine." In no way am I glorifying mental health issues.
I actually am studying Psychology so this seemed intriguing.
Hope you like it- love you.
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I went to school for Psychology and today I was being put to the test. I was being taken to The Psychiatric Hospital in Michigan to study a short-term patient with Schizophrenia. He was a patient about the same age as me, and I wanted to study his particular case. My file read that when he was a child he had imaginary friends, but unlike his two brothers he never grew out of them, his teen years were submissive and hardly showed signs, but recently he had been "told" to do bad things, like hurt himself.

He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't know how to stop it, it was my job to help him, or at least try to.
I always dressed very causal as to not intimidate some of the more sensitive patients. I wore black high waisted jeans and a dark grey long sleeve shirt. My heels clicked on the floor as I walked with the administrator. "His name is Remington and he really is a good kid- sometimes he's a bit wild, don't let him intimidate you- besides a few demons, he's really normal." He said to me. I blinked hard at the word normal. I hated it.

He unlocked the door and I walked in, my clipboard in hand. "You have complete privacy, and we're right outside this door." He said to me, his dark blue eyes smiled at me.
The heavy-windowless door was shut behind me. I turned around and Remington was sat at the table- he wasn't looking at me- but at the table, his wild black hair contrasted with the white of his straight jacket.
The room was grey- everything. Two large windows on the opposite side of the wall I came in, outlooking the courtyard.

"Hi Remington, I'm Y/FN." I smiled at him and walked over to the table. His head shot up and he looked at me for a minute his mouth open slightly. He looked me up and down. I froze for a second- he was hot as fuck. He closed his mouth an arched an eyebrow at me. I sat across from him. "Did they send in the hottest one they could find? goddamn." He growled. I didn't let the begging blush rise to my face.

I ignored him. "How are you?." I put my elbow on the table and my hand under my chin. He looked at me- his deep eyes piercing mine. Oh man he was hot. "I've been here less than ten weeks and they've already got me pinned down." He shook his head. "Well, I've been here for less than ten minutes and I am planning on getting both of us out of here." I said. He looked up from under his eyebrows. A crazy grin on his face "What kind of game are you playing with me Y/F/N?"

"No game- I've read your file, I've studied you for a while- I think: you're just misunderstood Remington, you don't know how to handle what's going on up there- you're just scared. You're no real threat." I raised my eyebrow at him. He laughed a little. He sat back in his seat. "No real threat? Then tell me love: why am I tied down?" He smirked at me and wiggled his restrained arms. FUCK HE WAS HOT. No be professional.

"Like I said- you're scared, you didn't hurt anyone else- you tried to hurt yourself. You don't want to deal with this anymore." I pointed to my brain when I said 'this' he glowered at me. "I'm not scared of you." I stated. He laughed, "Do you know what schizophrenia is? My brain- it has no filter- I couldn't tell you what was real or what wasn't. I'm fuckin crazy darling." He said to me. He leaned in closer to me now.

"Aren't we all?" I asked him rhetorically. "Have you ever heard your thought tell you to hurt anyone besides yourself?" I asked him. He shook his head no. "Do you want to hurt me?" I asked him a little quieter. He looked at me- i didn't know what he was thinking exactly but I knew he wasn't going to. "I rest my case. You're here for your safety, not the safety of others." I pointed a manicured finger at him. "You just need some understanding." He looked down at the table, but then up at me. He stood up.

"I deserve to be here." He said, it was heartbreaking. He was so sad, he had began to accept it now. I stood up just like him now. I put my hands on the table. "You've been locked in here for almost - what- three months? with people who aren't like you- I have no doubt you're losing it- you don't deserve to be here." I told him.

"And how are you gonna get me out of here?" He dared me. "I have no where to go- the world sees me as crazy already." He looked down and my heart shattered. I walked around the table and over to him. I walked right up to him. "I have my ways Leith." I walked behind him and began to undo the straps that restricted his movements.

Five clasps and three straps later it fell from his body.
Smooth skin littered with tattoos. Bandaged wrists that made my heart sink. I was blown away. He turned around and looked at me in awe. "Are you allowed to do that?" He asked me. He stared at his hands. He rubbed them together feeling his skin. "I can do whatever I want. It all depends on what you let me do." I looked at him, he was ripped, muscles, abs and toned arms. I almost drooled on the floor. With the words I spoke I could see his shock. He smirked at me.

He put his hands out in front of him. Offering them to me.

"Please?" He asked me and I understood. I put my hands in his. It had been a while since he had touched anyone else. He held my hands gently, just admiring the feeling. "We really take contact for granted." He said. And it broke my heart even more. He wasn't crazy- maybe a little- but not enough to be dangerous, he was sweet but scared, and misunderstood, and hurt. I wanted nothing more than to help him. "We're gonna figure this out okay?" I said to him and he looked into my eyes. And I felt his whole presence there. No more facade, no more wall.

I opened my arms and he hugged me. I hugged him back. "Thankyou." He said to me. His skin was warm.

"You're just misunderstood,

but I understand."