quiet

who: drew and chloe
where: her asylum
when: 2 years ago

Chloe's bedroom in the new facility (for "high-risk-special-interest" patients, something that Chloe tended to think of as one long run on word) was better than the last one. It was prettier and best of all it wasn't padded. She had a picture on the wall that was apparently famous, of little girls in ballet outfits, painted in a funny blurry style. So she liked that. And she liked that her bed sheets were green with stars instead of white with stains. She also liked that there was a window and even though it didn't open, it didn't have bars. Instead it had yellow curtains that made the light soft and comforting. It was definitely better. But that didn't mean it was good. It wasn't home. It wasn't quiet. And she couldn't get out. But then again, what was new? She'd been here for a couple weeks now and because there were less patients it was easier not to have nightmares and migraines all the time. But still hard to sleep. Still the voices never really stopped.

Chloe had been told that today? Today she was getting a present. She didn't know why or what it was. It wasn't Christmas and it wasn't her birthday, and she couldn't focus out the thoughts of one doctor from the other - they always came to her in threes, probably for that very reason, and she was sure the tall Asian woman who spoke to her was thinking in her native tongue, so Chloe's head had been muddled between English and what was possibly Korean. She had just nodded, nod nod nod nod nod, they weren't making her do anything but wait in her room for this "present" to be given to her.

She figured that it did not bode too well. She didn't like surprises, especially not from her so-called Doctors. They sometimes involved needles. They made her never-ending headache so much worse. And today was one of the bad days, anyway. She was sitting on the bed in her room, her head pressed into her knees, trying to ignore the woman in the room next door who was wailing. Not out loud, because nobody had come to drug her up and keep her quiet, but inside? She was like a fog horn. She was crying and crying and crying, and from the odd thump Chloe could hear in the non brain-wave world? Probably hitting her head against the wall. Chloe moaned softly and wrapped her arms around her head, becoming a little curled up ball of red hair and white pyjama fabric. Trying to blot it out, but failing. It was too much, too much. She felt like she was going to explode.

Drew kept looking down at the little card he had. It had a name, an address and a room number. He had some stupid little identification card that looked about as non-informative as something meant to be projecting his identity could possibly be. Literally, it was like a laminated gray card with a strip on the back and a barcode on the front, his first two initials and last name printed in tiny letters beneath his name, and his technical job title. A. W. Shepherd / Analyst It was Their card, he'd had the same one since he'd joined up, so even the picture was a little out of date. Or getting out of date, anyhow. His hair was a little shaggier then, and he'd kind of needed a shave.

He'd been waved through the security check point in the asylum, and given a little 'you are here' map, which was terribly unhelpful. He felt a lot like he was playing silent hill again and he should really start marking off doors with red pen. He also was attempting not to listen too closely to the sounds of the place. He'd never really been in a proper asylum before. The closest he'd ever gotten was visiting his grandma in the nursing home, where a good eighty percent of the residents had dementia anyways...but this was different.

This was, he hated to admit, creepy. Yeah, he was going to go with creepy because he couldn't come up with a nicer word that still fit the description. There were people wandering around looking lost, there were people staring off into space and drooling on themselves, there was one girl who started giggling hysterically then she burst into tears as he walked past. Creepy. Definitely. Fucking. Creepy.

Finally, however, he managed to find his way to the room he was meant to be at, the girl he was 'mentoring'. Or, whatever the description was. He was meant to spend time with her. Spinner, Chloe. Age sixteen. he recalled from the file system in his head. There'd been a photograph of her, but it wasn't any more up to date than his ID badge's. The girl in the photograph was at school, it was a standardized public school photograph. So she was smiling, and dressed up nicely, but she was also only like thirteen or something, so it definitely wasn't current and he really needed to knock on the goddamn door here now and stop stalling. He looked up at the number on the door again, trying really hard not to listen to the thumping and wailing and shit he could hear from the next room. If you look neurotic, it's not going to help anything. he told himself. So, he rolled his eyes at his own lameness, and did finally knock. He concentrated on the face he could see in his mind, some little girl who definitely didn't look like she belonged someplace like here.

Chloe sniffed loudly and glanced upwards as she heard the knock. No-one knocked in this place. People in labcoats just barged in when they felt like it, and sometimes so did inmates if their nurses let them wander too far - but that kind of stopped happening when people realised Chloe would throw shit and scream herself hoarse if any crazy people came into her room. It was bad enough she had their thoughts invading her head every minute of the day, she didn't want to have to look at them, have them in her space. Still, mystery knocking. Perhaps it was a real present after all. With a postman and a shiny bow. Did they deliver post inside here? Chloe didn't know. No-one ever got letters. People forgot about you when you were rotting in the looney bin.

She swung her legs off the bed and moved slowly towards the door, one arm still coiled around her head, making her posture kind of weird and zombie like. "Shut up shut up shut up shut up" she whispered, hoping that if she repeated it enough times the woman in the next room would get a grip and stop brain-yelling.

She pressed her fingertips against the door, wondering if opening it was really the safe thing to do, but the knock came again. She turned the handle. Slowly slowly. Looking back on this moment later, the turning of that door handle would feel like it played in slow motion. The act of crossing the carpet took a thousand years, not 20 seconds. Swinging the door open with trepidation she didn't even really register the tall, slightly worried looking man standing in front of her. What she did register was the sudden wave of nothing. Like a punch in the gut, only good. Just this complete sensory blackout. A split second of pure silence No screaming in her head. No background whispers. Nothing. She let the arm that was framing her face drop and she simply stared at Drew. Her mouth gaping.

"What did you...they're...they're all mine. There's nothing else in there. They're all mine." She spoke like a drowning person, her words choked and unsteady, her voice quiet, unable to drag her gaze away from Drew. The realisation that the only thoughts she could hear were her own was so beautiful she didn't even know if she should be crying or laughing or collapsing in a heap.

Drew reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck, a sort of tic he had when he wasn't sure what to do. He knew she was a psychic of some sort. That was why he was there. He knew that he was meant to be helping her, or trying to, or something...his details were always really vague when it came to these assignments. He was sort of left to his own devices, and while he appreciated that a lot of the time, sometimes he was left with moments like these where he flat out didn't have a clue what to do.

What he couldn't do was stand there blankly saying nothing and looking at a loss, so he quirked a little crooked smile at her. "Um, hi, Chloe?" he asked, even if yes, this was the girl. Older, prettier than the picture he'd seen, but definitely her. "I'm Drew..." he introduced himself, and he held out his hand so she could shake it. "I'm uh...here to mentor you?" he said as if he were suggesting it as opposed to telling her what was going on.

Chloe blinked. She looked at his hand, back to face, and then back to his hand again. She wasn't sure what he meant by mentor. Was he like her? Was he going to teach her how to control what she heard? That...that was a bloody good present. She still didn't take the handshake though. There was still the possibility of things going wrong.

"Come out of the hallway. There's crazy people out there," was all she said, in a very matter-of-fact manner, and she beckoned him to come into her room. She stared at the wall where the thumping was coming from, looking very shellshocked, waiting for the wailing to start up again. She then turned to face Drew again, still blinking, "What do you mean mentor? How are you doing this?"

Since she didn't take his hand, he sort of half tucked it into his pocket, and he glanced around, then entered the room because she seemed to be pretty serious about the whole crazy people out there thing. In theory, there were crazy people in here, too, but he was reserving judgment there. He got inside, and he shut the door, to quiet the noise from out there, then turned back to her. "Mentor as in hang out...spend some time with you, teach you how to do...I dunno. Something you're interested in learning?" he suggested. "Consider me your new big brother?"

Then he tried to think about how to explain what it was he was doing. He never liked having to, because he wasn't actually doing anything. He didn't have any say whatsoever in the effect he had on people. It just happened. And he needed to quit spinning his wheels here and talk to the girl because she deserved answers. "Um," he started. Brilliant start, Shepherd. Really, you should write that one down. "I'm sort of just...I shut things down. Like...things people can do. I don't know how I do it, sorry. But they told me that you had some...issues, and so I'm here to help." he said. If he could do that. Sometimes it didn't work. Sometimes things go weird. Sometimes, he helped a lot and people were overjoyed to have met him. He didn't know what kind of a case she'd be. He just hoped it didn't involve tears, or her hitting him. "You okay?" he asked hesitantly, because she didn't exactly look it, and he was genuinely concerned.

Chloe just stared. She didn't really know to react. There was a cute older guy in her bedroom telling her he was going to help her and stop all the noise, like he was some kind of miracle, and she was staring like a slack jawed yokel, too freaked out to do anything cool like, y'know, saying coherent sentences. She was dangerously close to freaking out. She felt her hands shaking and she pulled them up to her hair, dragging the long curls out of her face, trying to breathe.

"Am I okay? No. I'm...really kind of not okay," she said, trying to keep cool, but her voice was full of tremors, "I...you just walk in and...it's quiet. You don't understand. There's no way you can understand. You say they told you I have issues? Issues is... an understatement." She paused, looking up at Drew, her face draining any colour it had left, tears beginning to form in her green eyes.

"I hear....screaming. All the time. Like all the anguish she's feeling? Next door? It's like a siren in my head and it won't stop. And then, there's like, this whispering - underneath it? And when they come in and drug her, or she falls asleep, or whatever? That comes through clearer. And it's this guy. And I can hear, everything. Like - stuff he doesn't even know he's thinking. From this dark twisted place, things... things he wants to do. Things he's done. Horrible, ugly thoughts. Real messed up nasty stuff. I guess he's in the room above this one, I don't know but... it's always been this way. I can't turn it off. I've never had peace before. And people... they tell me I'm schizophrenic or hysterical, that it's my imagination. Crazy fucking Chloe. Always, I've had this buzzing, other people's voices in my head, all their ugly, violent poison, I hear everything, exactly what they think - even the subconscious shit, and now...it's gone. It's never just been gone. It's...it's just me in here."

Tears were flowing freely down her face now. Perhaps it was an overreaction for 2 minutes of quiet - but after 10 years of non-stop noise? Undrownable chatter? Those 2 minutes were heaven. She was gasping, as if she was learning to breathe for the first time, learning to think for the first time. Her hands were pressed against her forehead and she was just staring at Drew with a dumbfounded disbelief.

"Are you... are you going to fix me? You're going to shut it off? Forever?" the hope in her voice was unmissable, even behind the tears. That was the clearest she'd ever spilled out her problems, to someone who was essentially a stranger. He probably thought she was a nutjob now, but the promise of silence - that was too much. She was overwhelmed. She kind of thought she might pass out.

Note to self. Get the guy upstairs moved. Drew thought in the middle of all of that. He flailed a little because of the tears, and he always wanted to comfort people when the cried. He'd also spent tons of time with females, so that was sort of par for the course, sometimes girls got teary. He was actually usually fairly good at dealing with them. It just usually involved hugs and a shoulder that got a little wet and possibly snotty, but still. Only he didn't know where the lines were here, and he didn't feel like he could just walk over and give her a hug even if she looked like she needed one. He got a little closer, sort of testing it out.

"First of all, I'm not here to 'fix' you, there's nothing wrong with you." he told her, because he really didn't believe there was, and he didn't want her running around with that belief either. "And I can't shut it off forever, I'm really sorry." he said, stressing that, meaning it. He wished he could sometimes. This kind of thing could really destroy a person's life. He'd seen it. "But I'll be by to see you, and...maybe people can help you more with it that would know how to better." Since he sure as heck couldn't. She was right when she'd said that he couldn't understand, not really. He'd never had voices in his head, especially not crazy ass voices, like she'd be dealing with. Maybe he could get her moved to a different ward, or someplace more private or something. Hm. He was going to have to figure something out for her. He didn't want to leave and just have all the badness rush back in.

"....so this isn't permanent." it wasn't a question. It was a small, resigned statement that sounded about as close to heartbreak as you could in four words. Nothing wrong with her, right. Perfectly normal to have other people's thoughts in your head. She rubbed her hands down over her face in an attempt to remove the tears, and looked at Drew again. He did sound sorry, really sorry, not Doctor-sorry, so maybe that was something. He seemed nice. But he was still one of them, wasn't he? They always said they would help, and they never did. He'd probably show up once every couple of months and ask some pointless questions and do weird stuff with charts and electrodes, and play at being all sweet and cool, and that would be it. The only thing that helped was this. The silence. And if that wasn't something she could ever have? It just seemed cruel to dangle it in front of her like that.

She also noticed the way he had sort of started edging closer to her in that kind of nervous way - yeah, okay, she'd definitely given off the nutjob vibe then. Awesome.

"And I'm not going to bite," she snapped, hating that she was snapping but not really being able to get a reign on her emotions just yet. She was unpredictable at the best of times, and he'd pretty much just made her all her dreams come true and then taken them away in again in the space of a minute. You could forgive a girl a little crankiness, "If you have to come and examine me or whatever then just do it. I'm used to it by now."

Drew winced and made a face. "Sorry." he said. "And I'm not a doctor, I'm not here to 'examine' anything. You just looked like you needed a hug, but some people aren't cool with hugs from people they don't know so I wasn't sure and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or be standing there like 'what the hell is this guy doing hugging me' and so I just...er...do you want a hug?" he asked, cutting into his own ramble. He had a tendency towards it when he got going. Not all the time, or anything, but it was known to happen. His nerves got the better of him and then wheee! He was off on some tangent or other. Usually when he did that he wound up way off the reservation with topic, though this time he'd managed to stay on point.

Chloe made confused-face. Hugs were not part of her vocabulary. She didn't know if she wanted a hug. Right now she veering more towards 'not' but she wouldn't rule it out completely. Part of the whole relieving quiet thing, Chloe realised, was that she had no way of telling if Drew meant what he was saying. She had no way inside his head other than her own instincts. That was straight up odd.

"I... people don't ask me that. You... you work for these big scary people and you're not big and scary and it's kind of weird for me. Okay?" her tone was still pretty high on the pissy scale, but she had relaxed slightly. She was giving in to Drew's obvious awkwardness. She could kind of relate to awkward.

"I work for big scary people?" he questioned. "They're not scary. And I'm just kind of interning with them I guess. I'm an analyst? Technically, anyways, that's what it says on my ID card." he offered. Which it did! Huzzah for truth. Not that Drew was a good liar, he wasn't. In fact, if anyone ever asked him to lie he flat out told them he was terrible at it and they should really get someone else to do it, or just not involve him because he'd fuck it up. He was that kid that got everyone else in trouble because he'd look guilty at the first mention of things... "But okay, weird, I understand." he gave her. "Um, what can I do to sort of help the weird be not-weird?" he asked. "Do you want to go for a walk or something? Or...er..ask me questions or...?" he trailed off, not sure what else to suggest.

"My Doctors are big scary people. They stick electrodes to my head and ask me weird questions and treat me like robogirl. But okay. Maybe that's just the way they are with the crazy people, not their employees. Fine. They sent me you, I guess, that's kind of cool of them"
She tried to smile, and sound nice, rather than impatient and huffy and teenager-y. It was easier without crazy screaming voices in her head - that she could appreciate. She didn't want him to leave her just yet, anyway, that was for sure. She wasn't ready for the quiet to stop. She sighed, and sat on the edge of her bed, her socked feet tracing circles on the itchy green carpet - the kind you only got in Asylums and airports.

"I dunno. What do you normally do to make stuff not-weird? I bet you meet a lot of crazy head-voice girls, huh?"

"I don't work for the hospital." Drew said. "I'm not affiliated with them at all." he continued. "I guess I work with a group that's more...specialized and works with people like you. Special sorts." he attempted to explain. He leaned back against the wall, and quirked a little awkward half smile. "No, I don't." he told her. "I mean, I've met a few psychics before and all, but everything's different. Everyone's different. But hey, you're not coming at me with a pen and trying to jam it into my chest, so I'm calling it good right now." he said with a light touch of humor, and a tone that suggested that had happened at some point. "If you're crazy, you don't even hit my charts for it."

Those were kind of the magic words for Chloe, that he didn't work with the hospital. Although it was a mixed bag. The knowledge that there were actually other people like her was kind of comforting - the suggestion that they usually tried to stab him in the chest wasn't so great, and made her think maybe everyone with brain mojo went loopy. But okay, you couldn't win them all.

"So you work for like, uh, that bald guy? In the wheelchair?" it was an attempt at a joke, but Chloe's pop-culture referencing skills were pretty weak, and she couldn't remember if they were X-Men or some other letter, and she didn't want to sound like a loser. Although she'd probably already failed on that count. "And your thing is uh, making other people's stuff not work? That sucks. It's better than mine, a lot better, but it still kind of sucks. What else can people do? That you've met?"

Drew was, at heart, a geek, and he lit up at the comic book reference, and he grinned at her. "I wish. Then there'd be the sweet mansion, I'd probably have a better health plan, and be surrounded by cool people all day." he said. Then he paused and laughed a little, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Er...they'd only be cool til yeah, what you said. Til I made their stuff not work. It's...something I honestly didn't even know I had, honestly. So I'm sort of just normal, and I happen to have a weirdness that happens around me." He paused for a moment before answering her last question. "All sorts of things. There was one guy I had to go try and calm down...criminal sort and he kept levitating objects around the room and throwing them at anyone who came in." he explained.

"Normal'd be nice," said Chloe wistfully, "or even floating stuff. Then you could just...not float stuff, and it would be okay. Unless everything started floating like crazy when you came into a room and like, flying at you, and you couldn't switch it off, and you'd be being beaten up by your own furniture and stuff. That would suck. I can see how that would make you angry." She took a breath, and paused for a moment, playing with her hair fidgeting with all her anxious energy.

"I could hear the kids in playschool, you know," she blurted, changing track massively, her voice getting softer as if she was talking more to herself than to Drew. Trying to justify her own anger, as well as that of the hypothetical floating-stuff guy, "When I was just small. They were um, they were scared of me. Even the teachers were scared of me. And I was just a little girl. It wasn't like I was going to hurt them. I just... I didn't understand why they thought those mean things."

He listened, eyes on her, and he nodded, a little. "Wasn't fair." he assessed, getting that. He wouldn't have liked it. And he had read her case file cover to cover, and with his memory, he recalled it all. All the little notes in there that had come from teachers. How her second grade one had even used the word 'unnerving'. It was a whole lot of unfair, and really it was because the world didn't believe in people like her. Not really. It was fine for the movies and tv and everything, but when faced with actual psychics, most people scoffed and waited for the punchline. But it meant people like her didn't get what they needed, and for that he was sorry. And why he was going to work hard to be there for her. He didn't even mind her tone, when it slipped towards the angry, and he could tell she was trying to hold back some of that too, even if he wouldn't have minded if she did want to rail and scream for a little while, just to get it out.

She liked that he was just listening and not saying much. Somehow it was very easy to talk to him. Maybe it was because she couldn't hear any of what was going on in his skull - it was hard to talk to someone when they were calling you a lunatic inside, no matter how nice they seemed on the surface. She could sort out her own thoughts better, too. Easier to converse when you didn't accidentally blurt out some thought that wasn't your own just because it was buzzing around in there.

"How... how often are you going to come? Just to like, hang out, or whatever? Only um, it's kind of really awesome that I can't hear what you're thinking. Or what anyone is thinking. You know? It's like... my head works. For the first time ever. I guess you probably don't have a lot of time, huh?"

That actually made him smile at her. "I've got time." he told her. And Drew was a good listener. It was pretty much his best trait, most of the people in his life said so. He had a rare ability to not be a typical guy and listen, and not try to fix everything, which was another thing some candid females in his life had told him. He listened, and kept that in mind. "I'm in the area? So I can probably come around pretty often. I can give you my number, and if you ever need anything..." he trailed off, not wanting to pressure her or anything, but definitely wanting her to have his number if she did need anything. With her specific situation, he knew he'd have a rough time just leaving her here in crazyland in the first place, so he'd feel better too, if he knew she could call if she was having a rough time.

Chloe raised her eyebrows and looked up at Drew through her curtain of hair. He was smiling at her. That was - unusual. She wasn't used to unpatronizing regular person smiles. Or having someone to call. She had called her parents a couple times, but mostly it was weird, and she was pretty sure they screened her calls. It wasn't like they were all doting and came to visit every weekend.

"I'm not allowed to have a phone in my room any more. I uh. Threw the last one. At an orderly," she sounded pretty embarrassed about that fact - but he'd been a jerk and trying to stick her full of tranquillizer and thinking really gross stuff about her, she she'd spazzed out and threw the closest thing to hand, "but yeah - that would be neat. Don't you have like... a wife and kids and stuff? I won't be bothering you?"

He chuckled a little bit. "I'm not married." he admitted. "I don't even have a girlfriend." And hadn't, in ages. But that was a little personal to be telling a teenage girl. "So trust me, I've got free time and you wouldn't be bothering me. I'm pretty sure I could use giving Halo a break anyways, so..." he shrugged. "Just call, don't worry about it. They've got phones downstairs, right? You can use those. I don't think they can actually stop you from using them, and if they say anything, I'll talk to them. Maybe I'll just say something about it on my way out, just to be sure." he said, hitting that stream of consciousness ramble again as he went through his thoughts. "Yeah, that'll work best. Then just...you can call." he said, realizing that was really just redundant of him to say.

Chloe blushed - and felt herself blush, and hid behind her hair again, and felt like a dumbass. She didn't know what Halo was either, but it sounded like it was probably some cool super-power secret-society thing and she didn't want to reveal her ignorance. "I can't hear thoughts over the phone. I doubt I could hear yours anyway, just in case you were worried, because of your mojo. So you can think I'm a dork all you like and I won't know," she smiled weakly, "And we don't have to stay here, right? You've got a pass so I can go off grounds? I can like... do normal stuff? Like. Movies. Or whatever."

"That was the plan." Drew told her. "I don't really think a whole lot can be done sitting in a place like this." he said, looking around. "It's too stuffy in here, there's all that moaning going on, all the orderlies look at me like I don't belong here...it's uncomfortable. Besides. You're sixteen. You need to go to the movies far more often than you do." he told her, giving her a warm smile. "You need to get ice cream, and go shopping every once in a while...maybe walk around a park from time to time. I'm sure there are birds of some description that need feeding." He paused, and just shrugged a shoulder. "Whatever you want to do." he told her.

Chloe felt herself starting to cry again. That sounded... really good. Like someone had just described her ideal life. "I can't even remember what the last movie I saw was. I think it involved muppets." and then she choked, and the sobs really came, gross, snotty crying, because she realised it would be no good. She didn't even really know where to begin being normal. Her points of reference were pretty much non-existent. So, okay, Drew was meant to teach her how to be regular - but it was still no good, because if he wasn't around she'd just be crazy and full of voices all over again. Asylum girl.

This time when she started to cry, he walked over and sat down next to her, and put his arm behind her shoulders. He didn't say anything, not at the moment, he just figured if she was bursting into hysterical tears, then she probably needed to do that for a few, and he had a shoulder. It was free and everything. He just hated seeing a girl her age this screwed over by everything and she seemed sweet. So, he was definitely going to be trying to help. To give her a little piece of normal here and there, if he could swing it. If she'd let him, which would be the real kicker.

Chloe didn't really like being touched, as a rule, but for once she didn't flinch or lash out. She hadn't just been held for ... well... she didn't know how long. Which kind of made the crying worse. But it was almost relieved crying. She turned and buried her face into Drew's chest and wrapped her shaky little arms around his neck and just cried. A tiny little part of her felt kind of bad about getting his shirt all covered in face-fluid, but mostly she just wanted to cry.

After a good 5 or 10 minutes, Chloe finally felt her hysteria passing. The quiet had something to do with it. She'd just been able to cry, with her thoughts full of nothing but how much she was crying - and for once her headache had come from something other than crazy people invading her head. It was self inflicted. Which was kind of awesome, in a really weird way. She sniffed, and hiccoughed, and kind of awkwardly untangled herself from her big mentor... guy - who now probably thought the she was gross. She wiped her arm across her eyes and gasped a little as she spoke, "Okay so. Sorry. I'm kind of a mess sometimes. All the time. Uhh. Yeah," Smooth Chloe. Really smooth, "Thanks, I guess?"

Drew just was as there as he could be, and he let her cry. He rubbed the back of her shoulder a little bit trying to be comforting, and he didn't try to cut it off at any point. He gave her her time. It was her time after all. This was what he was here for. "Don't worry about it." he told her honestly. "Everyone's a mess sometimes." he promised. It was also true. No one had their shit together one hundred percent of the time. It just wasn't at all how it worked. The real world was full of broken people, or cracked ones, and absolutely no one had a perfect existence where they never ever just lost it. And sure, she was in an asylum. And she thought she was messed up and the like, but he was planning on trying to get her farther away from that idea. "...you're welcome." He reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, and gave her a little smile.

She smiled back, wetly, her eyes flickering and kind of trying to avoid his gaze. Chloe was naturally very shy and crying all over a stranger wouldn't usually be her style. But she was in a very unnatural situation, and had been for a pretty long time. "I don't want you to go," she whispered, "I know you'll have to eventually, but... will the voices come back right away or uh, will there be a lag?"

She wrinkled her nose and sniffed, glad that she'd got all the crying out of her system. She felt a lot calmer. She was also starting to wonder things, like, how they knew about her? These people Drew worked for? She guessed the hospital had told them but she couldn't be sure - and more importantly, were they going to take her away? Out of the hospital, if they knew she wasn't crazy? Would they help her learn how to control what she could hear, or was that simply impossible? But she didn't want to annoy him or scare him off by hammering at him with questions. If he really came back like he said he would, there'd be time to ask those questions.

"It's immediate, I'm sorry." Drew said, being up front about it. "I have I guess what they call a sphere of influence. It's just like...a ways around me. It's actually kind of a wide range? But not all encompassing, and it doesn't have any effect but my vicinity. So, even if you were at one end of the hall and I was at the other, it wouldn't work." he informed her. Which meant the girl was stuck being in range, which at least covered a room, though.

Chloe nodded, and pulled her knees up under her chin, hugging her legs close to her body. She still felt kind of surreal, and was adjusting to the new, organised silence in her head. That would go away soon, but still - might as well try to enjoy it while it was there? "I think this is the clearest my head has felt, um, ever? So it kind of sucks that it's going to just....stop," she paused, and wondered what it would feel like. When the voices had stopped it had felt like a sort of vortex, a suction-y feeling. Just...whoosh. Normal. When they started again it would probably be like a sledgehammer to the brain. Awesome, "Do you really, really promise you'll come back? I think I can handle it better, you know, if I know you'll be here again. That you won't just forget about me."

"I won't forget about you, and I promise I'll be back." he told her truthfully. He gave her a light smile too. "Not sure when exactly, but I'll make it soon. And like I said, I'm in the area, and you'll have my phone number." he continued, really planning on leaving that for her so she could call him if she had an emergency, or whatever. He'd also be seeing what he couldn't do to get her room a little less crowded in on all sides. He could just do a little hacking, right? No one would notice, per se. But he could move some things around...yeah, he'd be doing that. Maybe it'd be better for her if she just didn't have neighbors. It could be quieter then, too, even if he wasn't there. The security for a place like this wouldn't be to hard to crack. Naw, he could hit that with little issue. ...he needed to concentrate on the here and now again.

Chloe felt very uncertain about a lot things, the girl had some fairly large issues when it came to trust, and yet she found herself instinctively trusting Drew. It was nice, to be able to use her instincts, and not just hear if someone was trustworthy or not.

"I believe you," she said quietly and quite earnestly, "Just don't vanish on me okay? That'd be a whole world of lame. You seem kind of okay. I don't get that. Most people are all... rwar."

She smiled half-heartedly and twirled the tendril of hair he'd tucked behind her ear around a finger, slipping it into her mouth and chewing on it slightly. With hair as long as hers, and with as much anxious energy she had built up, it was a miracle she hadn't developed dreadlocks the amount she twirled and chewed and twisted. But somehow there was no beating those curls.

"So um, do you like your job? Babysitting crazy freak people? I bet when you were a kid you wanted to be a fireman or something, huh? Something less weird? Or did you already know you were gonna do this - I mean, how do you find out you've got like. Whatever it is you've got? Reverse Shining."

The Shining was one of the few movies Chloe had actually seen, she'd watched it on TV during a period she'd been at home rather than in hospital, and 3 days later they had sectioned her again. It had been a coincidence, but the movie had stuck with her none the less. It was pretty messed up.

"I won't vanish." Drew promised, having no intention of it whatsoever, so it was an easy thing for him to do. "And a fireman? Naw. I was never...I mean, that's for like, big tough guys and everything, I wasn't exactly a football player, y'know? I more wanted to design video games. Though I'd wanted to be a crime scene investigator and everything. I tend to remember things well." Which was understating it, but still. "Never happened, though." Obviously.

He paused, eyeing her for a moment before continuing. "I'm not babysitting, and you're still not a crazy freak, nor are the other people I've seen." he said. "I'm never going to agree with you, you might as well start turning your thinking around to my way. It'll just be easier for you." he told her with a light smile. "Yes, I like my job. Most of the time. It's not all this. And I found out...it was kinda...traumatic." he admitted, not really willing to make up a shiny happy story. He liked truth. Plus he was a shit liar.

"Oh, I don't really know much about video games. I've never played one. Crime scene stuff though, that's cool. I... I could probably be a really good police officer, you know? If I wasn't all loopy bananas. People can't hide anything from me. Except you could, I guess," she looked at him warily, her tone betraying her reservations, "It's cool you don't say I'm crazy, though. Everyone else does. Even I think that, sometimes, I mean... if I wasn't cracked before I probably am now, you know? Whatever." she trailed off, not wanting to talk more about herself and her freaky broken brain. She wanted to know more about him, because he was all mysterious and junk.

She raised her eyebrows when he said traumatic. Drew seemed like he had his stuff pretty together to Chloe. Traumatic experiences didn't usually equal that - but maybe he was just really calm and awesome at not being crazy-flail man. That was a skill she'd like. "Traumatic how? What happened?"

"You're stressed and you've had to deal with a whole lot. That doesn't make you crazy." Drew said, not really willing to give up on that score. And if he had to repeat himself til he was hoarse, he'd do that. He might've commented more about how she might do in law enforcement, but he wound up not when she asked the final question. He reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck, looking at the floor for a second, then up at the windows, then the wall, then back to her. "There was a car accident. A friend of mine got...hurt." he said, though the inflection in his voice was clear. 'Hurt' was a massive understatement.

Chloe nudged Drew with her shoulder in a friendly 'cheer up' kind of way, but scooted away again fairly quickly in an awkward display of nerves. She could tell he was upset, even though she wasn't that good at reading people's little signals - it was never something she had to worry about - Drew wasn't exactly being Mr. Subtle with the tone of his voice and shifty eyes act.

"How could a car crash be because of your wiggy thing you can do, though? Unless you zapped the car and stopped it working? Can you do that? It doesn't matter though - even if you can do that, I don't think you'd ever hurt anyone on purpose. You're nice." her voice was soft and kind, genuinely worried about him - after all he had let her cry all over him and be a schitz without getting weird, she could at least repay the favour.

"It wasn't my fault." Drew said. It hadn't been. That was one part of the equation that he'd never had trouble assessing. "A drunk driver pulled out in front of us, so it was just...something that happens. But my friend, Vicky, she got hurt. Very hurt, really. Like...kinda a lot of brain damage hurt. And it did something to her. It...well she became kind of the opposite of me? Like she could make people's abilities better. But I guess when someone like me and someone like that gets anywhere near each other it does something really weird. I've heard it called the Flicker Effect. It was just weird, hard to explain. But that was how I found out anything about myself or what I did. Just because I happened to cause that with her." He made a bit of a face and tried a smile for her. "I know it's convoluted and hard to explain." he said. "Sorry if I'm not doing a very good job."

Chloe frowned and tugged on her hair, not meeting Drew's gaze when he smiled at her. She was thinking about how much she hated this, that it was possible for people's heads to do things like that. To break each other. "Life's totally not fair, is it? Like, how come good people have to have stupid microwave brains that don't do stuff right? It just sucks. And if it happens all the time, like people floating stuff, and people like you and your friend, how comes no-one believes it? Y'know, like those guys with tinfoil hats who think there's people reading their minds and junk? It could be true. That could be me one day. Tin-foil wouldn't even help, probably."

"...no, life isn't really fair." he said, because he wasn't going to spin some tale about how it was. "But it isn't all bad, either. She got better, and she's doing something she believes in too. We still can see each other, it's just...kind of got to be specialized circumstances." Which meant meeting someplace where they wouldn't be around anyone else. "It'll get better for you. I'm going to try my hardest to make sure of that." he said. "Deal?"

Finally meeting Drew's eyes with some trepidation, Chloe sniffed and made a face. She wasn't sure about making deals or putting her faith completely in him, not yet. He was sweet, sure, and her gut told her that she liked him, that she wanted to trust him so badly, but she just... couldn't place her finger on why she couldn't. Even though her head felt clear, and there was no way you could fake that, it was all about baby steps.

"I thought you said you didn't have a girlfriend?" was the response Chloe came up with after a long pause, sounding more accusatory than she meant to. It wasn't a proper answer, and it was kind of a lame thing to say, but she felt like if she was able to fish out even the tiniest of lies then she'd have more justification in her paranoia.

Drew blinked a moment, not catching what she meant initially. It was mostly because as a guy who had mainly female friends in his life and very few girlfriends, it didn't even occur to him straight away that saying he could still see Vicky now and then would be construed as something one would say about a girlfriend and not a friend. To him, it was something he said about a friend. "...I don't?" he suggested. "I...she's just a friend. We never dated." he said. He quirked an unsure type of smile at her. "I meant see her like...have lunch or watch a bad movie?"

"Oh. Well. Okay then," Chloe paused, feeling (and still sounding) annoyed but not really knowing why. What, did he collect messed up girls? She knew it wasn't a feeling that was coming from any place rational, but when it came to Chloe's brain there wasn't a whole bunch of rational left, "I guess we can see how it goes."

She didn't really know what to say. She knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that the word 'deal' suggested she had to give him something in return. She knew that she liked him even though he'd probably end up either being a decent guy who got freaked out by her and didn't come back, or an evil jerk who was just really awesome at hiding the fact. She knew she was being paranoid, too, and she hated the uncertainty.

"...if it's okay why do you sound annoyed with me then?" Drew asked. "What did I do?" Since he really didn't know, and he didn't even want to start fathoming it. It could be anything, he supposed, to normal girl-type things to issues brought on by living in and out of an asylum her whole life. And, he supposed, it might be weird for her because she couldn't read him. That could lead to trust issues, right? And now you're overthinking, Shepherd.

Chloe glowered, and jumped to her feet, stalking across the room away from him. "I don't know! Because it's all a waste of time! It doesn't matter what you say, I know how it'll turn out, one way or another you'll end up not being here any more, and that sucks because you're all cool and stuff, and make me feel better, even though I'm like. Straight jacket material. And don't say I'm not crazy, just don't, because that makes everything worse, okay? And see, now I'm yelling for like no reason and...UGH! Nothing makes sense, and I cried on you and that was really...freaking....gross. And weird."

Chloe was standing on the opposite end of the room now, her arms folded, looking at the floor and seething. Jesus, how many stupid mood swings can I have in one day? she thought, scuffing her feet and feeling like an idiot.

Drew looked at her for a moment. "...no, straight jacket material is the guy who I had to go shut down because he was using his abilities to make people believe they'd done horrible things. He never actually killed anyone, he just...found people who would break the easiest, and he put into their heads what would crack them fastest. I think he was up to like six people who'd killed themselves over what he did to them. Straight jacket material is this woman who could...bend reality around herself, and she was a twisted, twisted person for it. Because after a while she could do anything she wanted and she got bored. Started fancying herself a god. That was ugly, and that wracked up it's own death toll too. Straight jacket material is a whole lot of things you've probably never considered, Chloe, but I've definitely seen, so you can stop trying to convince me." he said, tone light. Even, highly non-confrontational. "As for crying on me, it wouldn't be the first time, and I don't mind. Nothing making sense...well, that's kind of most people's world, honestly. I don't know anyone who's completely got their shit together who knows everything and has no questions. It'll get better."

She still didn't look up at him, she just let what he was saying sink in. It was horrible. All of it was just... horrible. "No. I wouldn't do anything like that. I don't want to hurt anyone. Not ever," her voice was quieter, more calm. It had that effect, the ability to just have his words and her thoughts, no background noise, "People think that I would though. My Mom... my own Mom thought I was a dangerous lunatic. She's the one who first brought me to the psychiatrist, y'know? And she thought that I was going to hurt someone. She didn't believe in me. So how am I supposed to trust anyone else? Even you."

"Well, I trust you." Drew said. "I don't think you'd hurt anyone either. And I don't expect you to trust me right away either, you probably don't have a lot of reason to. But...if you can think of anything I can do that'll help that, I'll do it. Plus, maybe just give me time?" he suggested. "I'm okay with the idea of building trust. It'd be kind of strange for you to just automatically do it without any experience with me or anything, right? So..." He smiled.

"Okay," said Chloe, sounding more resigned this time. Meaning it. "I'll try. I'll try and trust you. Really hard," she looked up now slowly, her expression still troubled but less fiery. She meant it. She would try - she wanted this to be as good as it sounded. Finally she looked Drew square in the eye, "Can we go to a movie, then? Next time you come? Something that doesn't have Muppets in it? I don't know what any are called so uh, you can chose."

"We can go to a movie." Drew said, grinning. "And I'll print off a list of descriptions of everything playing before we go, so you can pick." he promised. He figured that was the best idea, plus, he wanted to help her start feeling more in control of her own life. And even if it was just something little like choosing a film? He was happy to do it. Little things added up.

Chloe nodded. She'd like that. Then he wouldn't do something like take her to a horror movie. She did not need another Shining in her life. She took a couple tentative steps forward towards him, rubbing her arms and chewing on her bottom lip.

"Um, can I... ask one more favour? When you go...can I... walk out with you? Just so I can be at the front gate when the mojo switches off, and then one of the orderlies can walk me back and...you know. It won't be so sudden?"

Drew nodded, standing up. "Yeah, sure thing." he said. "I have to talk to a few people before I go and everything, but you can stay near enough. I don't mind. Just paperwork and stuff I need to sign or whatever, and then we can walk out. Take your time with it, okay? I know it might be jarring, so don't rush yourself." he advised.

Pulling an oversized green hoodie over her pyjamas, Chloe nodded and smiled weakly. "Okay then. Let's go sign some paperwork. It'll almost be fun to walk around this place without the voices. Almost." She gave a funny squint grin, and walked over to Drew, and then taking a deep breath and holding it, she hooked her arm into his. It felt weird, holding him like that. Her arm was really tense and she half-expected him to pull away, but whatever. She meant what she said. She was going to try.

Drew grinned at her, and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, not pulling away. "We're off then." he said, leading towards the door, fine with her having his arm. He saw it for what it was. A step in the right direction. Now, if he just could keep up with that, he thought one day, she'd be fine. Or, as fine as she could get, but she'd be better. And hopefully out of a place like this.

She flinched very slightly when he went for her hair again, but didn't move away or let go. She liked him doing that - even though the hair would be back over her face and being chewed again pretty quick sharp - it was a caring gesture and she didn't come into contact with many of those. She kicked her slippers on as they walked through her bedroom door and tried her hardest not to do the crazy-person shuffle - head down, heels dragging - although she really didn't want to meet anyone's eyes. The nurses freaked her out, not to mention the other inmates, especially as she knew a lot of their dark hideous thoughts. The quiet was... bizarre. But it made it a lot easier to walk alongside Drew, and she pulled herself tighter and closer to him almost subconsciously.

Drew smiled a bit as she did that, thinking to himself that this would work out. He'd get things better for her in little ways, get her room more isolated, so it could be quieter for her even when he wasn't around. He'd get her out, get her believing in herself a little more...yeah, this could work out just fine.