REAL Old Fashioned: a BMW & GMW Spanking Story

Ch. 7/P. 2: No One Gets Me.

"Shawn, calm down. They are just trying to help you." John sat on the hospital bed next to Shawn as he tried to pin his arms to his sides to keep him from fighting the nurses.

"F*CK OFF. I want out of here. NOW. I. Am. Fine." Shawn tried kicking at the nurse who was coming at him with a shot of Haldol to relax him.

John shoved his finger in Shawn's face. "SHAWN. I am warning you, RIGHT now. Quit it."

The sweet, young nurse backed off. "It's alright. Perhaps I can come back later."

"No. It's okay. Shawn will behave. Right?" John glared at him to cooperate.

Shawn closed his eyes tight and winced as the nurse cautiously inserted the needle into his arm. "See? It wasn't that bad, was it?" She said with a smile. Shawn ignored her.

"Thanks, Nurse...Natalie." John sent her a smile that said "I can look at you all day."

She returned the favor.

"Oh, just knock it off already. Why do you always have to embarrass me by flirting with any female that walks on two legs?" Shawn huffed.

"Sorry for Shawn here. He's just not used to hospitals."

"Well, no one comes here to party," Natalie offered.

John let out a chuckle. "I bet not...Hey, maybe if we get out of here by the end of your shift, we could thank you by taking you out some place nice."

Shawn gagged at the thought.

"That's real sweet of you, but I'll have to pass. When I wear my badge, I have to keep my professional boundaries."

"Do you wear a badge all the time? 'Caus if not...I mean..."

"I suppose I don't...You just don't give up, do you?"

"Eh, I'm just observant is all."

"Well...even if I said yes, I'm afraid the doctor may want to keep you here overnight for observation, then possibly transfer you to the juvenile mental institution down the street."

Shawn jolted up in bed, interrupting their mini rendezvous. "Nope. There is NO way I am going to some loony bin. I will leave. You can't hold me against my will."

"Shawn, if the doctor says you have to stay here or go somewhere to get help, that's what you'll have to do. No arguing," John explained. Shawn challenged him with a glare as he began to get up. He yanked the IV line out of his hand, allowing blood to leak out onto the floor. He was about to leave, but John grabbed his wrist before he could get too far. "NO YOU DON'T."

"Come on! It's not fair! It was just one accident."

Turning toward the nurse while keeping a hold of Shawn, John said, "I'm sorry, Natalie. What should we do?"

"Um...I'll call the doctor to see what he recommends." Natalie attempted to wrap Shawn's hand with some gauze and tape, but he shook her off. Flustered, she left the room.

"Shawn, what was THAT? That was not cool. This isn't you...Maybe you SHOULD be getting some extra help. Come here." John pulled Shawn toward the bed and felt his forehead.

"Stop with the forehead thing. I'm fine, John. Please, just let me go. I can't take this suffocation anymore."

"What do you mean...suffocation? Aren't I fair to you?"

"You don't know when to back off, man. Sometimes I just need my space."

"Hey, if I gave you more space, who knows if you'd even be alive right now. I shouldn't have taken my eye off of you in the classroom either, or else none of this would've happened. I guess I sort of failed you, haven't I?"

"That's not what I was saying...I was just saying that I'm the kind of guy who needs to be by himself when stuff happens."

"But I gave you a month or more to do your own thing after Chet died. Eventually, you just have to live again. Why won't you let anyone get close to you? Not Cory, not me...No girls have come around. It's just not like you."

"I don't know, okay? I just don't know."

Shawn and John sat in silence for a while until the doctor came in. He wore the traditional garb of a white lab coat and slacks, as well as a serious expression on his face while he peered down over his glasses at his chart. "It looks like we might have to keep you here for a bit."

"Why? Why can't I just leave?" Shawn whined.

"Because your dad here informed us of your actions, how you tried harming yourself. According to him, your friend overheard you saying you want to kill yourself. Is this true?"

"Well, I didn't mean it. I was just...It was just a scratch. A moment of weakness."

The doctor pointed at Shawn's arms. "Those are more than scratches, bud. You see how many stitches you have? That's 23, and those cuts were deep. I'm shocked we didn't have to give you blood...I'm sorry, but I think you need a mental health evaluation and closer monitoring before we can send you home. You may possibly need a week or two in Jenner's Juvenile Mental Facility down the street as well."

"This is bullsh*t. Can't a guy make his own decisions around here?" John shot Shawn a warning look, but Shawn ignored it.

"Because you are a minor and under your dad's care, plus a danger to yourself, you are deemed unfit to make wise decisions regarding your healthcare...I can sense you are angry and probably nervous, so, tell me about your hesitation revolving around going to a mental facility."

"What's there to tell? It's where the whack jobs live. I'm NOT crazy. I'm just...sad sometimes, I guess."

"Mental illness is not something to be ashamed about. It can affect anyone at any time. In your case, feeling depressed might be quite normal since you're grieving a recent loss."

"I didn't say I was depressed."

"It's not weird to have depression. It's not your fault," the doctor offered.

"So, you figured me out, huh? Well, woop-dee-do. The guy thinks he can make me all better...I don't care. I'm not going."

The doctor sighed and exchanged glances with John. John shrugged in response. Realizing the doctor needed his help, John piped up. "Oh, I guess it's my turn now...Shawn, you don't have a choice here. You are going. We are done discussing this. That's final."

Shawn looked up at the ceiling and crossed his arms, trying to fight back tears.

"Don't worry. It won't be for very long... IF you allow us to help you. Can you do that? Can you help us help you?" The doctor asked.

Shawn paused. "Maybe, but what do I get out of the deal? Is my life gonna just magically change when I go back home or what?"

"There is nothing magical about the medical profession. You simply have chemicals in your brain that need to be adjusted with medication. It's an imbalance."

"Oh, so the medication is gonna fix me? Like I can't be normal on my own. I guess I am a freak then."

"If you take the medication as we tell you to, the medication should work. If it doesn't, we will try other kinds of medication until something does work. A therapist can help you learn coping methods as well."

"Sweet...My life just keeps getting better and better..."