bakerstreet | Asylum Meme

Entry tags:

Asylum Meme

Meme, Interrupted

"People ask, How did you get in there? What they really want to know is if they are likely to end up in there as well. I can't answer the real question. All I can tell them is, It's easy."

Well, you've really done it now. You're in a mental institution. Maybe it's a modern facility with a therapy garden, compassionate staff members, and a warm environment meant to help nurse people back to health, or maybe it's a glorified dungeon where the government shoves people they don't want to deal with and patients are abused by staff. Regardless of what it is, you're there, and it doesn't look like they're planning on letting you out any time soon.

Maybe you're actually not supposed to be there and you're trying to arrange for your release. Maybe you actually are meant to be there and you're struggling with your illness. Maybe you're not a patient at all and you're just there to visit or earn your paycheck. It's up to you.

Rules:

1. Post with your character's name, canon, and your preferences on the subject bar, and set up the situation.
2. Tag other people. Are you a visitor? A staff member? A fellow patient? A hallucination? It's your choice.
3. Have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Considering Masaomi's noncompliance, it's shocking that the asylum staff hadn't thought to bring in a certain girlfriend of his to try and convince him to behave. But perhaps there's a good reason for that decision. A reason that's about to make itself apparent.

"Masaomi..."

The voice in the corner of the room is hoarse and weak, as though the speaker had been yelling for hours. Or screaming, as it were. Unable to walk, she crawls into view, dragging herself pitifully across the floor with her forearms. Her injured leg trails behind her, bruised and broken at an impossible angle. Her face is pale, as if all the color has drained from it, and yet despite the tremendous trauma that has been inflicted on her person, the apparition of Saki Mikajima still manages a pained smile as she looks up at Masaomi from his feet.

"Masaomi," she implores yet again, brushing his leg with her hand. The heavy dosage of medication that he's kept on would make it difficult to tell if that touch is real or imagined.

"It hurts."

Edited 2013-07-21 12:14 (UTC)

Everything is always faint, distant. Everything around him, all his senses dulled - but that voice cuts through everything, has his eyes shoot wide open to look, to meet hers, instantly. It's as clear a sign as any that she's not really here, even apart from the obvious, but sometimes he thinks he's not really here either. She's still more real than anything has been for him in weeks - too real, the touch to his leg making him pull it back in towards himself instantly, because he can still move his legs. Somehow it makes that rejection of her touch twice as harsh, but he can't help it.

"No... No, you're not -..."

Isn't she, though? He swallows heavily and tries to retreat further, pulling his legs up against himself as far as they will go, but he's already quite literally got his back against the wall, and his arms are trapped in a straightjacket, making it nearly impossible to get to his feet.

Edited (I'll just leave out random words, shall I? All right then.) 2013-07-21 12:27 (UTC)

She continues to smile, though her expression becomes forlorn, as if made lonely by the rejection of her existence. Her hand is withdrawn, and she slowly pushes herself up into a seated position, supporting herself on shaking arms. Her breath comes and goes in short pants, every little movement that jostles her leg seemingly wracks her entire body with excruciating agony.

"...it hurts.." she repeats, sounding close to tears. Without looking away from him, she continues to fix him with a sad, empty stare.

"It really hurts, Masaomi...."

He can't bear to see her like this, but he can't look away either, his mouth moving silently for words that will not come. He knew, of course; he knew exactly what she would have looked like, what she would have sounded like. Only the scream was something he could never have imagined - but then, he didn't have to.

"Saki, please -..."

But what exactly would he be asking her for? That's the world upside down, isn't it? He knows exactly who owes who. But he'll never be able to settle that debt, to make it right. Never.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Saki would never ask him to apologize for that. The nature of her love is one of total acceptance: she loves him for everything he is, hero or not. But the broken mess in front of him is only a simulacrum: a reflection of Masaomi's darkest, guiltiest thoughts.

"So why didn't you make them stop...?"

Though it isn't a plea, her tone is close to that. Biting her lip to stifle any pained noises, she struggles to bring herself just a little closer to him, but muffling the sound of her suffering doesn't extinguish all of the traces of its existence: it's all there for him to see, in the beads of cold sweat trickling down her forehead and the ragged breaths she keeps drawing. She ought to be passed out unconscious from pain, but hallucinations aren't accurate depictions of reality. Cautiously resting her face against his leg, she closes her eyes and trembles for reasons that have nothing to do with the ambient temperature.

"Don't you care about me?"

"I do. I do - Saki, I -..." But he can't say it. How can he say it, after what he's done? This is all his fault, everything he sees; he's the one who did this to her, even if he didn't do it directly or on purpose.

He'd give anything to undo what he did to her - he tried! Far too late, far too uselessly, but he tried. That's why he's in here now, why he's never left to wander around completely free, and drugs are necessary to keep him remote in line. It's all because of this - and he still can't get away from it.

He can't take this; he can't breathe. He's been desperate to feel her touch like that again, impossible as it is, but now she's like that, and it's too much to handle. Why couldn't they have taken him instead of her?

Why couldn't he give them himself, instead of her?

"I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry."

Nuzzling her cheek against his leg, she seems to accept the apology, though her words are no less pointed and unforgiving.

"Mm, you say that, but truthfully you wish I wasn't here, don't you, Masaomi."

It's stated matter-of-factly, rather than in accusation. The dismissal of his affection rolls easily off her tongue, like poison dissolving in water. Her thin smile only highlights how twisted this little interaction taking place in his head is. If the asylum staff have noticed Masaomi talking to himself, they haven't made it apparent yet.

"Would you like it if I left? I can't walk so it might take me a while, but if it was to make you happy, I could do anything. Anything for you, Masaomi."

Even if you can't do the same, she leaves unstated between the lines.

Edited 2013-07-21 17:10 (UTC)

Is that what he wants? Is that really what he wants? It's hard to think, but no, even now, he doesn't want her to go. He just wants her to be safe, and healthy, and -... And none of that is possible anymore, is it?

"Don't go. I -..." He's not sure he can go through that again, as much as this hurts. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, his eyes stinging with tears, but with the initial shock worn off, he has to use this chance to get through to her. He may never get another chance again.

"If I could do it over... I would do it right. I would make them let you go; I would take your place. Please, Saki, you have to believe me."

Edited (What is English when it's 30+ degrees Celsius?) 2013-07-21 20:22 (UTC)

It's difficult to tell from her expression if she believes his words, but what is clear is the fact that despite how poor her condition is, no matter how precarious her grip on consciousness ought to be, she still has room to feel concerned about him.

"Don't-... "

She feebly raises her arms, weak and unsteady, to hold onto the ends of his straitjacket. Her intentions make themselves apparent when she makes the impossible and ridiculous effort to raise herself off the floor to stand up, injured or not. She's only able to make it up a few centimeters.

A sudden eruption of pain floods her body with the violence of a high voltage electric shock that rips right through her insides the second she tries to put any weight on the broken bone. She can't suppress a sharp cry that dies down into soft whimpering as she slides back down to the ground. Her quest to wipe the tears from his eyes is forcibly abandoned.

"Don't cry.. don't cry.." she says laboredly over and over. "I won't ever forgive you if you do."

The tears don't fall just yet, glistening in his eyes, making it hard to see. His self-control - never his strongest suit - is close to breaking altogether, and he can't help the sob that escapes him as she cries out. So much pain. So much pain that was never meant to be hers.

And still, somehow, she manages to be concerned about him.

He breathes a soft laugh, completely out of place, and squeezes his eyes shut briefly, tries to will the tears away. It only brings them closer to falling, though, so he opens his eyes again, tries to blink them out of existence. He's not sure he wants to stop looking at Saki anyway, now that he's able to.

"If it's Saki, how can I stop caring?"

It’s Saki’s turn to laugh now. The giggles are strained, and a curious note of cruelty has woven itself into its usually sweet timbre. She rubs his foot with tenderness meant to sting and soothe in equal parts. All too soon, however, her laughter turns into gasps for air and she has to stop in order to breathe properly.

“You didn’t care when you left me there…” she points out with nonchalant pragmatism once she catches her breath again. “I could have died, you know?”

This comment about her possible death is made with detached amusement that’s entirely inappropriate for the situation. Unable to faint, Saki only slides deeper and deeper into a state of delirium. “But even if I died, it would have been okay because you wouldn’t have to worry about the fighting anymore.”

Her nails dig a little into his ankle - not hard enough to leave marks but hard enough to be slightly uncomfortable - as she continues.

“You can’t do anything like that for me, though… so maybe you don’t care about me, in the end. Maybe the only one Masaomi really cares about is Masaomi. Not his friends, not me, not anybody but himself.”

She sighs resignedly, closing her eyes as she drops a kiss on knee. ”That’s why you shouldn’t cry. Monsters don’t cry.”

The words hurt more than anything up to now, robbing him of the last thing he had to hold on to: her love. But doesn't that just prove that she's right? If he cares more about getting her love than he does about her well-being, isn't she simply telling the truth?

The nails digging into his ankle are ignored. He feels them, but the pain isn't his anymore; he feels nothing, everything detached from him. Even his tears seem to dry up as he stares blindly at Saki's mangled legs, numb and unable to respond. What can he even say anymore? She's right. She's right...

"What does Saki want me to do?" He means it very literally, even if his voice has lost all emotion. It's not that he's trying to earn her forgiveness; he doesn't deserve that, anyway. But he'd still like to try to repay the debt he owes her. Should he break his own legs? Easier said than done, but that's the least he owes her, right?

Is that even enough?

He'd risk a lot more - maybe jump off the roof and see how many bones that might break, leave it up to fate whether it costs him more - but those things are hard, in institutions like this.

He would try, though. For her, he would try anything.

"You don't have to do anything, silly," she replies quietly, letting her grip on his ankle relax as she smiles up at him yet again - a genuinely happy smile.

"I can learn to love someone who can't love me back, even if it means I have to hurt like this all the time... that's just"how you show your love, isn't it? I'll heal so you can break me again - yes, I can definitely do that for Masaomi. "

With her free hand, she gently brushes her own leg, barely touching the skin with her fingertips, as if willing the trabecular meshwork of her bones to repair themselves faster. Quietly, she starts humming the refrains of a lullaby under her breath, trying to lead them both away from their pain-filled reality through the escape that sleep provides.

"I don't want to break you. Saki, I never wanted to break you."

Between the emotional backlash and that lullaby, he's getting very tired indeed, but he doesn't want to fall asleep. He's terrified that, if he closes his eyes, he'll lose her again. He can't do that. No matter what she says, no matter what would be better for her, he simply - selfishly - can't do that.

She was right, after all. She's always right; he doesn't care about her enough.

"Untie my arms. Please? I want -..." He swallows and tries to find a nicer way to ask her, but he's so tired, and he doesn't care anymore. "I really want to hold you. Just -... Just once more. Please."

It's an impossible request for the non-entity wearing Saki's face to fulfill; hallucinations can't free people from straitjackets, but they can appear sympathetic. They can trick a person into thinking they're not alone.

"Mm, you just want to hurt people again, don't you?"

A barbed little comment, striking him from a different angle.

"You deserve to be tied up like this, Masaomi. It isn't safe otherwise. Look at what happens when people get close to you." She dissolves into giggles here like she's told the punchline of a funny joke. With an almost expectant look, she glances up at him - as though waiting for him to laugh with her.

"I -..."

He wants to deny her accusations, but how can he? She's right; she's always right. And he knows why she's always right - where she gets her information - but that's the last thing he wants to think about right now.

"I'm sorry." It's nothing he hasn't said before, but he means it, and he wants to get through to her. How can he possibly get through to her? He can't, can he? She already knows all there is to know. But if she knows, she should stay away from him. She needs to stay away from him.

"You should go. I -... You're right. I don't want to hurt you again."

Even if watching her leave will be horrible, he has to try not to be selfish. He has to admit to what he is, and make sure everyone stays away from him. He has to.

When it becomes clear that no laughter is forthcoming, she sighs in disappointment and resumes stroking his leg.

"That's so unappreciative, Masaomi. I told you I don't mind being hurt by you and that I'd be happy to stay by your side, but you're still sending me away?"

Smiling a broken little smile as she speaks, she nonetheless appears to be considering obliging his request by glancing at the door to judge the distance she would have to crawl in order to reach it.

"You're really breaking my heart.... I guess I'm not surprised, though. I knew you wanted me gone all along. You're just that kind of terrible monster, after all. Not even Izaya-san would ask me to walk on a broken leg."

Edited (i am so sorry for these edits, I keep catching errors WAY later too, orz) 2013-07-29 04:23 (UTC)

He can't do anything right - but then, that's the whole point, isn't it? That's why Saki is the way she is now; that's why he's locked up in this place. But it still hurts, and it's frustrating as hell. He doesn't know what to do; he never knows what to do. That's why he wants her to tell him, to point him in the right direction - even though, deep down, he knows that is impossible, too.

It hurts; it's supposed to hurt. He can deal with that. But he can't deal with her bringing up that guy, frustration finally rising to a boiling point.

"Then what -... What do you want?! Tell me what you want!"

She's already told him, of course, but it's not really about that. If anything, his frustration is caused by his desperate wish to undo the past, to make things right - and he can't.

But he'll never be able to accept the way things are, and that's why he'll never get better; that's why he'll never find his way back, why he's shouting in frustration at the one person he loves most of all.

He can never make this right. He deserves to be locked up here.

She flinches when he yells, recoiling a little like he is physically lashing out at her. Abuse often followed shouting in her experience, and even though Masaomi's upper body has been immobilized, he could still kick her. But she'd promised him that she was okay with anything he does to her, so she doesn't move away. She kisses his leg instead.

"Mm, I can't tell you that. Because I want what Masaomi wants. So why don't you tell me, what do you want? Do you know?"

She doesn't wait for an answer, and supplies one for them with her next breath. Perhaps it's because Masaomi reacts so poorly to Orihara Izaya that she adopts even more of his demeanor: the slick tone of voice, the smirk of a snake, and of course, the air that everything she says is absolute unshakable truth.

"Of course you don't. You're a mess of chaotic instincts beating its head against the walls of its new home. Pitiful, really."

Of course it's the truth. He knows it, and that's why it hurts, just as everything Izaya has ever told him hurts because it's true. The truth - reality as a whole - has always been Masaomi's number one enemy, and the older he gets, the more he messes up, the worse his reality becomes.

"Stop. Stop it! Just -..."

He wants to cover his ears, but he can't, so he screws his eyes shut instead, as if that will block out sound too, if he just tries hard enough. But he still hears her; he still feels her. Even with his eyes shut, he swears he still sees her, as she was and as she is all at once.

"Please stop, please. Stop it, stop it, stop it..."

"Ah, you don't really mean that. If I stopped, then you'd be all alone with no-one to keep you company."

Her voice, strained but sweet, now sounds more like taunting, like there's shadows of echoing laughter growing louder and louder between the lines.

"Don't you know how horrible loneliness is, Masaomi? You should be thanking me for talking to you, but it's just like you not to recognize a good thing when it's right there in front of you... And maybe - maybe that's why you'll always keep me waiting. Why you'll always be disappointing."

Little by little, her hands reach up again, climbing up his body as she tries to stand one more time. The effort this takes her is herculean, and her face contorts with the effort of trying not to scream when she, again, tries to move her legs.

Because this is only in Masaomi's head the apparition succeeds this time. Her broken leg wobbles madly, unable to bear any weight whatsoever, but before she crumples to the floor, she throws her arms around his neck to try and keep upright long enough to press one desperate, hungry kiss to his lips.

Edited 2013-07-31 10:13 (UTC)

Would loneliness be better? Wouldn't it be better? He can't decide; he can't think. He knows how wrong he is for her, and if she sees it too, why doesn't she go? Why doesn't she just -...

Apparently going is the last thing on her mind, however. Uncertain at the feeling of her hands moving up his body, he opens his eyes, only to close them again just in time for that kiss. It's tainted by the sight of her, in that split second he had his eyes open, her face contorted in pain.

But it's still what he wants. Stupidly, selfishly, it's still what he needs, and he kisses back as well as he's able, arms pulling uselessly on the straitjacket in an effort to hold her. He thought he'd gotten rid of his tears, but there's at least one that hasn't evaporated yet, escaping his eye to slide slowly down his cheek.

In spite of everything, this is still all he's ever wanted.

His arms don't have to encircle her body for her to know how much he wants to have the freedom to act that way. She can taste it in the heat of their kiss. That knowledge doesn't even begin to cancel out the agony she's in, but it does make her happy despite it. She only pulls away when she absolutely has to, taking quick breaths to quell the need for oxygen.

When she sees it, she kisses the lone tear from his face, claiming it and his sadness, for her own. But her next few words form a dark promise, tailored to destroy whatever happiness Masaomi still has left inside him to feel.

"One day, I won't be so broken and then I'll finally be able to leave you too, just like everyone else has left you. I won't need you anymore, and I won't even be temped to want your love again. It really seems like such an impossible thing when I think about how much I love you, but it's definitely going to happen. You know how I know, Masaomi?"

Of course, he does. But she brings her lips closer to his ear to whisper the phrase he doesn't want to hear.

"Because - because Izaya-san said so."

He can't feel much of anything anymore. The kiss seemed like closure, like something of a happy ending - but of course it isn't. He doesn't get those; he doesn't deserve them. Ever since he got that phone call, his heart's been broken so often, falling into a million pieces and awkwardly glued together the wrong way around, only to shatter again with the next blow, that he really can't feel much anymore.

So why does it still hurt?

He wants her to leave him. For her sake, he really does. He wants her to be happy, and that's not something he can offer her. But he wants her to leave him because she wants to. He doesn't want her to follow that guy into his next evil scheme, to be used and broken all over again.

Maybe that's how he can still hurt. For her.

He's failed her already, and he can't keep her from falling further and further still. It's his responsibility to save her - no one else will - but he can't. He can't even try; there's no point.

He doesn't try to convince her not to listen to Izaya. He's tried that before, and look where it got them. Nowhere, nothing, nothing at all. So he merely sits there, eyes squeezed shut again, and feels his heart being torn into useless pieces all over again, leaving him empty inside, a big ball of nothingness with a thin layer of failure and pain on the outside, just barely keeping the emptiness inside together.

He just wants it to stop. He wants to pierce that surface so he can explode, or implode - anything at all, as long as he disappears.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Asylum Meme

I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not sure that I am.

Never be sorry.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject