a waiting game

[Axelle F. Rhodes]

Axelle was a pro. She let the big, burly men grip her arms with enough force that they had white knuckles, and she would have deep bruises, a rainbow ring on her arm. She had no intention of fighting back at the moment, but the men had been told of how violent she was and how much of a fight she'd put up if given enough of a chance. But Axelle wasn't an idiot. New facility, new chances, even if she wasn't meant to be here in the first place. She had done her time, and coming to this run down shack in the middle of nowhere was like making her do it again. About 15 yards from the door, Axelle let her eyes water and tears slide down her cheeks. Sympathy. At the door, the sniffling started as she looked around, trying to find anyone who would take pity on a wounded kid who'd lost their freedom. She whined loudly at the guards as she past a large office with what looked like a lot of softhearted doctors.

They rounded a corner into an empty hallway, and soon, the crying girl was tossed into a padded room alone. The door shut with a loud metallic clang, and Axelle heard the click as she was locked into the room. With a sneer of disgust, she wiped the tears and snot from her face and onto one of the walls before walking around, surveying her new prison. There was light, she'd give the room that, but little else. She'd been here before. Not this exact location, but here in a lonely place with nothing but her mind to entertain her. It hadn't been enjoyable the first time, but Axelle was patient, and she was a survivor. How long would a mental health facility keep someone locked in isolation knowing the effects it could have? She would outlast them.

Having decided this, she took a seat in a corner facing the door and watched it, her fingernails fiddling, sharpening. It wouldn't be long now before her mind began to speak to her, urging her to get out any way she could. Several voices arguing over the best way to escape, many asking her to kill. They'd started in the first lonely place, and Axelle listened for months to them. For a long time they had gone away, and Axelle was on her own, but since her incarceration, they'd been back, louder and more forceful. She let them speak, they're whisperings giving her something to concentrate on when there was nothing else. For time, she counted her breaths, hours it had been, and the girl was tired. It had been a long trip, and the muscles in her shoulders burned from being dragged and her biceps from being gripped. But she held her eyes open watching and waiting, and she'd stay like this, catching quick catnaps when necessary, until someone came for her, just like before.

[Dr. A. Sherpard]

High risk patients... Lovely...Drew watched her be taken down the hall from his office and shot a look to his employees. As the role call went, this one was his until he decided that she needed a different doctor and a different way of treatment. She was crying and whining but not struggling. Unusual for a ASPD to do. The first watch was Drew's so when she was put into the room he made his way to the surveilance room and began a three hour watch, letting Laura take over from him.

He spent three hours watching her patients and doing work on other patients before he returned to take up his next shift. Axelle had been given a sandwich in the mean time and some water in a paper cup but by nightfall nothing had happened and so passed the 10 hours in Isolation. Laura came to take over from him again, and brought Axelle's dinner, some stew and rice with a plastic spoon and milk in a paper cup. He could put her to bed if he got what he needed from her from here on in so he shook his head denying Laura's take over of the shift and made his way into the room with the tray of dinner.

Laura followed and opened the door for Drew then handed him his clip board, slipping a sedative in his inner coat pocket. Drew heard the door click shut behind him and fixed his eyes on Axelle.
"Are you hungry Miss Rhodes? I have some dinner for you."
Drew offered and moved just a few paces from her, setting down her food before sitting down himself, with the notebook on his lap.

"I'm Dr. Shepard. Your new Doctor. You can call me Drew if you're more comfortable with that. "
His eyes swept across her arms where the bruises were and he gave a soft sigh.
"I'm sorry you were manhandled. I'll have a word."
Making sure the patient knew that they were being seen to was important... right? Why hadn't she acted out?

She was now drug free. That was what the surveilance room was for. To make sure that the drugs they were on were the ONES IN the file and nothing else.
"Miss Rhodes, Do you know why you're here? Can you tell me?"
Drew asked softly.
"Is it okay if I write while we talk? I'd like to make sure we don't miss anything while we get to know one another a little better. "
He informed her watching her carefully.

[Axelle F. Rhodes]

As the hours ticked by, Axelle was unaware that she was being watched. She had an idea that someone would be watching, since she'd done nothing to get herself locked in a prison cell here, but she didn't know for sure. And it wouldn't make much of a difference whether they were watching or not. She wasn't about to misbehave and ruin her chances. Eventually, a sandwich arrived with a paper cup of water, carried by a man who seemed terrified of coming near her. That made the girl smile a little, though her bored, patient look did not falter. Only her eyes gave some sign of her amusement. She picked at the sandwich slowly, and sipped at the water. Who knew whether this would be one of many, or the only meal she would receive.

She was about halfway through the sandwich when a man, different than the one before, came back into the room. Quickly, Axelle rose from her seat in the corner, not because she was planning anything, but because this man, and the woman at the door looked like he had power. She needed to play this guy right. She listened to him, his words temporarily quieting the urges to lunge, while she glanced over what he had. If he had read anything about her, as her doctor likely would have, he likely had a sedative needle on him. And he had at least one pen. And a bowl of when smelled like beef stew. It wasn't steaming so burns were unlikely, but the spoon... had no one here ever made a shiv from a plastic spoon?

He mentioned her manhandling and briefly, her gaze flickered to her upper arm where the blood was pooling into a ring of bruising. She'd had worse, but if he was so concerned, she let her eyes soften and she rubbed the area lightly. With the arm she wasn't using to rub, she reached out and grabbed the bowl of dinner, refusing to back into the corner again. He started asking questions, prompting what was as close to an eyeroll as Axelle was willing to give to a man prodding for answers. What made him think she didn't know why she was here? She was well aware of what doctors and prison guards and the dead couple thought was wrong with her. They weren't all correct, but the girl did know what she was like.

She shrugged in response to the writing question. What did she care if his questions were written down with "silence" following them. It would only make the pen easier to get.

[Dr. A. Sherpard]

Drew noticed her eyes softening and he smirked then shook his head. Either she was misdiagnosed with the mental disorder she had or she murdered in self defense or maybe she was a really good actor. He would get nothing out of her if she didn't talk so Drew simply watched as she rubbed at her bruises then he lowered his eyes when she took the bowl before scribbling something down in her file. She spoke. He'd heard her whine earlier. The whole wing has had heard her speak.

Drew chewed on his lower lip for a moment watching her with her bowl of stew.
"I was told you killed your guardians... or well your file told me. That's why you're here. People who are here have a sickness in their minds. Like having a flu. Only yours has turned into pnemonia and such... it's fatal if left untreated. I can't cure the illness if you don't tell me what the symptoms are. I'm not a miracle worker. I'm just a man."
Drew expected no response.

Drew saw a puzzle but it was fairly blank and the pieces... were all similar looking. He needed her to open up to him! To HIM. Not to Yates. To him. Drew let out a soft sigh and glanced from the bowl to her.
"I heard you cry out earlier. I know you can talk and if I have to put you under Hypnosis to talk to me, I'm willing to do that. I need you to drop about two risks as my patient and I sure as hell and quite detemined to get you better. You understand that right? I'm not going anywhere and neither are you."

Drew capped the pen and slipped it into his back pocket then did the same with the clip board, slipping it under him so he was seated on it. Then he watched, waited for her to talk to him. He counted in his head. If she didn't respond by the time he reached two hundred he would find something else to say. Something somewhere would unlock her voice. He would NOT turn to violence because that was the only language she understood right now.

[Axelle F. Rhodes]

To claim that Axelle's murders being in self defense changed her diagnosis, and meant she wasn't such a good actor was almost insulting. Sure, the couple had tried to kill her more than once under the guise of "therapy" but they'd been sleeping when she'd shot them. Hardly a threat at all. And Axelle felt no guilt. She hadn't, and wouldn't discuss other murders she'd been involved in either, and no therapist or shrink or victim or anything else would know anything about it. After all, in a way, that would be ratting her father out, and as little as she cared about just about everything, he was her father. It was as close of a relationship as she ever planned to have; she wasn't going to rat him out.

No, Axelle had good control of her muscles, and three years in the psych ward in juvie had really only enhanced it. Shit psychologists trying to shove empathy down her throat. Make her a nice person. She'd learned, but she hadn't changed. Axelle glanced at him as he once again began to speak, words and meaning she already knew of course, and a smile twitched briefly on the corners of her mouth before the took a rather large bite of the stew. It wasn't great, but it was better than what she was used to expecting in a place like this. Definitely an improvement from prison food.

The girl shifted and curled over the bowl of food as the man went on about how sick in the head she was. It wasn't new but it wasn't something Axelle particularly enjoyed hearing. Especially after the grief it kept giving her. The "guardians" he spoke of, not that they were very good at that job, thought that and tried to fix it. People really seemed interested in fixing her, and if they had to kill her to do it, they'd go right ahead. And Axelle was not one to give up without a fight to the death. But this man was right about a few things. First, he was only a man. And men were mortal. Second, she had a fatal disease. It just wasn't Axelle who was in danger of that fatality.

When her words earlier were brought up, the psychopath, for that was another term that had been used to describe Axelle, stiffened, her eyes growing colder. She could speak, yes, and she had spoken, but it wasn't something she just gave up. Not about anything important anyway. Words were for lies and tricks and to win over people who could do something for her. They were not used to speak her mind. No, speaking her mind might let things she was not about to let loose out. Her voice and the voices she could hear when there was nothing else were not different, and she wouldn't let her urges rule her, destroy her plans.

Sharp eyes darted to the door and then to the man as he threatened her. She wasn't going anywhere. Perhaps it wasn't meant to threaten, but Axelle was going to take it that way. Perhaps it was an excuse. She had finished about three quarters of her stew and rice before she pulled out the spoon, stuck it in her mouth, and tossed the bowl aside. Luke warm contents spilled onto the covers of the small cot and the wall and perhaps splashed onto the man looking for his answers. Licking the spoon clean carefully, almost seductively, Axelle watched the blond man. The spoon dropped then, hitting the floor and bouncing a few times until her foot crashed onto it, breaking off the smooth plastic end and leaving shards as well as a sharp, jagged edge.

Her expression didn't change.

[Dr. A. Sherpard]

It took a long time for the girl to snap and as she snapped it seemed like slow motion was set into action. Drew watched as her muscles strained under her skin, as something in her eyes changed and then as she tossed her bowl of stew away, Drew snapped his eyes shut for a second. Great... She'd just turned violent. Now he'd have to retrace his steps and find out what he'd said and maybe if she was restrained to a bed in a couple of days, perfectly subdued, he could try the same sequence of words on her again to see which sentence or word had bothered her so much.

Drew watched her calmly crush the plastic spoon which she would most likely try and thrust into his neck if it wasn't for the mountain of security gathering out the door already. With high risk patients everyone was jumpy when a doctor decided to go in solo like Drew had and Drew did it all too often. He'd been punched, stabbed and sedated himself a couple of times already. No, it was never safe to go in with a high risk because they were the violent unpredictable sort.

But Drew believed that everyone still had an ounce of humanity in them, even murderers so Drew took his chances and hoped for the best. As expected, the doors snapped open but his eyes fixed on the girl and he held up his hand staying exactly where he was in front of her, willing her silently not to make a bad first impression that would leave her chained to a bed peeing in a bag for the rest of the week. He slowly shook his head knowing that behind him stood a man aiming a taser gun, one aiming a dart gun and two more with rods to beat the girl if she dared attack Drew.

They had already filtered into the room, armed, dangerous to his patient. He'd so prayed it would not come to this.
"What are you doing, Miss Rhodes? I want you to take a deep breath and raise your hands. Please don't do this. Don't make your own life hard. "
This could be heaven or hell for her depending on what she did from here on in. He didn't want her confined to her room...

But if she attacked him for just saying something she'd be in restraints and either spoon fed by her orderly or drip fed by the doctors until Drew could get her to be more reasonable and more responsive.

[Axelle F. Rhodes]

Axelle was the observant type, and she was watching thee therapist near the door. She had not looked at the destroyed utensil under her foot, nor had she reached for the would-be weapon. She sneered at the man as the guards rushed in, threatening much less subtly than the shrink had with their weapons. How tossing some soup at a wall and dropping a spoon was at all violent was well beyond Axelle's understanding. Clearly these men would taze and shoot a toddler given the chance. Actually, Axelle would love to watch that...

Instead she watched the goons and the tip of the tazer, keeping perfectly still. This place was definitely jumpier than the juvie hospital was, and it amused Axelle that they were clearly scared of what she might do. Once again, the doctor spoke in that irritatingly calm voice and Axelle turned her eyes to him. The temptation was dying in the eyes of the weapons, but she'd be damned before she put her hands up. Instead, she snorted rather indignantly at the blond man. Anyway, she wasn't making her life hard, was she? She was making his life hard and probably the other staff members' lives hard, just as they had made hers hard by dragged her here.

Finally, the tension in hr body relaxed and thee girl batted her eyes at Drew innocently. If he thought this was violent for her, and was going to have the staff coming running to his defense every time a pencil dropped or person sneezed, they'd never watch anyone else. Or perhaps they would be too busy doing that to the other patients as well. 24/7 watch wasn't possible to have on everyone, was it? Axelle's arms stayed at her waist and her foot stayed firmly on the spoon handle as she looked up at Drew silently.