B a B y

Mama

A/N: Let's do this. AdrixTheMCRFan sorry it's late I've been dying all day.

Martha's (Washington) P.O.V

I opened the door to the room of the patient 666. He's a bit of hand full and absolutely insane, but I treat him as my son and he seems to listen better that way. 

"Mama?" I heard him say.

"Yes, John, I'm here," I said and took a seat in the chair, he turned around and faced me. 

"Mama, we all go to hell," he mumbled

I stared at the freckled boy confused.

"Mama, we all go to hell!" he shouted, I was taken back he never shouted at me before. Something has really gotten him upset.

"I'm writing this letter and wishing you well."

And I look up from him to see his crayons broken into pieces and writing on the wall. I really couldn't make out the words since he wrote so neatly, in cursive and small.

"MAMA, WE ALL GO TO HELL!" 

"John, sweetheart calm down, remember to breathe. C-" I was cut off by him.

"Oh well now, Mama, we're all gonna die...Mama, we're all gonna die," he said.

"John, what are saying? Where a-" 

"Stop asking me these questions, I'd hate to see you cry." 

"Mama, we're all gonna die." He stood up and walked over to me. He sat down beside my chair and rested his head on my leg. I looked down at him worried than usual.

"And...when we go don't blame us, yeah? We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah?" I ran my hands through his curly hair, that usually calmed him. "You made us oh so famous! We'll never let you go," he snuggled my leg. 

"And...when you go don't return to me, my love." 

He sighed, "Mama, we're all full of lies. Mama, we're meant for the flies." I stared at him wondering what he meant by that, and I was mentally keeping track of his wording so I can alarm George on this.

"And right now they're building a coffin your size." He looked up at me with the creepiest smile, it made my skin crawl. He looked back down. "Mama, we're full of lies."

"Well, mother what the war did to my legs and to my tongue." I looked at him confused, bitch you were never in the war. 
"You should have raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son" 

"John, sweety you're a great kid. I wouldn't ask for a better one." I reminded.

"If you could coddle the infection, they can amputate at once. You should've been I could have been a better son" I sighed.

"And...when we go don't blame us, yeah? We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah?" I took out my notepad from my pocket and began scribbling down what he was saying. "You made us oh so famous! We'll never let you go," he snuggled my leg more.

"She said you ain't no son of mine. For what you've done they're gonna find a place for you. And just you mind your manners when you go" He must be referring to his real mother now.

"Hun, are you talking about Mama Mama?" I asked softly but he ignored me.

"And when you go don't return to me, my love. That's right," he murmured. 

"Mama, we all go to hell! Mama, we all go to hell! It's really quite pleasant except for the smell. Mama, we all go to hell."

"Mama! mama! mama! Mama! mama! mama!"

"John, I'm going to get Papa okay?" I said standing up he shook his head violently hitting it against the wall a couple of times, laughing. "And if you would call me your sweetheart! I'd maybe then sing you a song," he whispered the last part.

"But there's shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun! You would cry out your eyes all along!" He shouted and managed to get out of his straightjacket. 

He began scratching his arms vigorously eventually letting blood draw. I stood there terrified, "We're damned after all! Through fortune and fame, we fall and if you can stay then I'll show you the way" he purred stepping forward.

"To return from the ashes you call"

"Wait, what?! John what the hell are you saying?!" I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him a bit. 

"We all carry on. When our brothers in arms are gone. So raise your glass high for tomorrow we die." He said with a smile.

"And return from the ashes you call" I watched as his eyes rolled back and he fell down with a thud, spazzing out on the floor, white foam escaping his mouth.

I sprinted out of the room screaming for help.