2spooky: The All-Saints Pyschiatric Hospital

[bluezone]

Four cases of beer, a bet, and a dare. That was how it all started.

The beer had been Tecate and it'd been bought by someone's older brother, since not a one of them was older than seventeen. The bet had been that the Heat wouldn't win against OKC, and in fact would lose by at least fifteen points. The dare had been at the discretion of the winner. Aomine had had way too many of the beers, had claimed that Miami would win, and had scoffed at the idea that any dare would be too tough for him to see through.

A day later, while still nursing the worst kind of hangover, he was cursing himself, his asshole friends, and the fucking failure of the Heat defense for his current situation.

All-Saints Psychiatric Hospital hadn't been a hospital since the 50s; supposedly it'd just been records storage before finally being shuttered for good sometime in the 1980s. Now, it was a derelict ghost sitting on the edge of new suburban sprawl, it's crumbling facade obscured by trees, an overpass, a hill, and distance. Once you got past the high fence and heavy, bolted gate, you might as well have been in another world, one overrun with grass, weeds, twisted shrubs, and patchy trees. There'd been a cobblestone drive, once, now a river of potholes and ugly, standing water, and there'd been a grand entryway with stone steps and metal handrails, all of it twisted and crumbling now, reduced to crumbling concrete and rebar.

Inside, it's a fucking tomb. It's cracked tile and peeling wallpaper with long streaks of black mold; it's graffiti and broken glass, and rotted doors hanging off rusted hinges; it's a single, abandoned hospital bed, it's padding slashed open, laying on its side near a set of doors that says OFFICES. It's utter silence, except for a faraway dripping and Aomine's own pounding heart.

He just has to go to the second landing. The stairs off the main atrium were secure and sound, he'd been told, and there was an observation deck up top that looked down on the dusty, cracked reception desks. All he had to do was walk up, take a few selfies, make a video shot down the long, dark hallway toward the first ward, and then get the fuck out.

His hand tight around the smartphone in his pocket, Aomine hustled toward the grand, wide stairs littered with leaves and garbage, and pretended that he wasn't fucking terrified.

At the very least, it was still daylight outside; it was 10 AM on a balmy Saturday in Spring.

Comments

[bluezone]

This was...she...

He had...never--

Aomine's brain short-circuited a little bit then. Looking at girls on the internet was one thing; seeing a woman so close that he could feel her heat on his cheeks and his chin was something that was worlds different. His breath caught in his throat and he just...he stared. It was something he couldn't help, either. He stared, almost comically read, and then he panted out a pained, lustful noise, so wound up and so shocked that at first, that was the only answer he could give. He was lucky he could still breathe at all, though every time he did, a warm, saline scent filled his mouth and his nose.

Is this what a woman...

Aomine couldn't even see her as a ghost, right then, though he knew she had to be. She was just Lia and his lower lip trembled from just how much of her he was allowed to see.

For a moment, it almost looked like he wouldn't do it. But after what felt like a life's worth of hesitation, Aomine skipped the part where he answered yes, or nodded, or anything that might make him croak or whimper, and instead opened his mouth and, tentatively, drew his tongue up along the slick line of her cunt.

It's hot.

He swallowed again, his thoughts swimming, his heart going a million miles a heart.

It's so hot...

He licked again, and then again, testing, trying, humiliated by his uncertainty but unwilling to stop. With every slow swipe, his cock gave another hard throb, and by the fourth, he moaned quietly, stricken by lust and squirming in his restraints. He had to lift his head up, a crick pinching in his neck, but that didn't stop him, either, and, breathing in her scent, he dipped his tongue down into her folds, moisture sticking to his lips and pricking on his tastebuds.

There was, by then, a dark spot on the sheet where his cock, so stiff it hurt him, leaked a liberal amount of precome.

[psalmed]

Had she scared him? Perhaps. Lia was close to backing off, to calling the entire thing off, when she realized that he was staring not out of disgust or fear but simply because he didn't know. It humbled her, it made her feel a wave of guilt, but also a wave of pleasure because she was his first. She could be gentle with him. Could teach him more.

"You only..." But he licked then. Lia gasped. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she tugged just a bit, unable to help herself. He licked and it felt amazing. Her clit was swollen, the wetness of her sex flushed with blood and the little licks shouldn't have had her heart pounding but they did.

One hand slid to cup the back of his head, to help take the pressure off. She guided him a little higher, to the nub above, let him explore at his own pace but maybe with a few extra nudges....

She had reached backward to steady herself, fingers contacting with his erection and that made her tighten, made her entire body clench with need. Lia released the air in her lungs in a soft moan. Quiet and delicate, almost demure, except for the way she rubbed against his face for more sensation.

"S-sorry," She claimed after another moment, shaky and uncertain but certainly enjoying all of this, even with their audience.

[bluezone]

Sorry.

Later, maybe, he'd asked her if she was sorry that she was doing this to him, or if she was sorry that she had put him here. It was still her fault, all of it; it'd been her voice, and her touch, and her face that he'd followed here. Was she sorry for the hours he'd been strapped to this bed, screaming for help?

But Aomine couldn't ask about that. He'd forgotten it all. There was fire in his veins, a sluggish sensation like lava, and all he could bring himself to care about was how his tongue felt like it was melting and that dampness was collecting in the hollow under his chin. He didn't even consider the fact that his state could be attributed to anything other than the woman resting on his shoulders, or that the numbness in his brain might be a part of it; instead, he eagerly followed her guidance, his lips bumping against the stiff, hot little button of skin. He sucked in a breath, and then licked her there, too, and closed his lips around to suckle on it like he had suckled on her breasts, gentle at first but too eager and needful to control himself for very long.

Needless to say, her fingers made him jumped. He whimpered against her cunt, his hips twisting, and the drag of the sheet over his cockhead was almost torturous, a drag that titillated but provided no real relief at all. He'd forgotten as well that they were being watched and didn't realize what it must have looked like, all his pitiful squirming with his cock swaying under the blanket, but the need was crawling over him now, smothering him, and he sucked and lapped at her clit desperately, his bedframe rattling from how he pulled at it.

He wanted to hear her moan again. He wanted to touch her, but if he couldn't do that, he wanted to hear more of those sounds.

It wouldn't be enough, he knew that it wouldn't, but still--

[psalmed]

She hadn't meant to touch him that way, either. Hadn't meant to raise his hopes or make that any worse. But it was a normal reaction. A normal physical response even if some of the people who worked here would scold him for that. Or do worse.

Lia felt the frame of the bed rattle. Heard the metallic noise of the joints in it creaking. Aomine was young and strong and big and she wondered if he could rattle the whole thing loose.

It was an idle thought, however. She was too distracted by his lips. The harsher suck at her clit made her gasp, moan out in a low and ragged way, soft and breathy. The noises got more frequent as well. Little whines and quiet moans.

Like before, his efforts were clumsy but more than enough. It had been so long and the stimulation was so good. The situation was good, if she was brutally honest with herself. "Just...only a bit more. Daiki."

It would be a sin. Worse of a sin than this, getting that final pleasure from it, but she couldn't quite resist. That or reaching back and gripping his cock through the bedsheet.

[bluezone]

More. He could do more. God, he wanted to do more, so much--

"A-ahh, ah, I..."

His gasping was understandably muffled and his moan was low and wet. He gave up trying to reply at all almost immediately and instead redoubled his efforts, putting all his attention into her clit and all the different ways that he could curl his lips around it and run his tongue over it. There was the thought of using his fingers, too, of maybe reaching up and plunging them into her wet cunt, but despite how hard he yanked on his arms, that still remained impossible. He whined from the lack and looked downright pained, from that and from how sensation lanced across his nerves the moment she touched his dick.

"Aahh!!"

If he weren't such a young man, and if his blood wasn't so thick with drugs, it wouldn't have been possible for him to come from that alone. But he was young, and he was desperate, and he was stunned by the sudden pressure, so much so that white flashed in his eyes and it was all over much, much too quickly.

If nothing else, his cry vibrated right against her clit and his upward surge ground his face and his tongue against her mound, his tongue hot and heavy on her clit and his lips sucking and moving against her own.

[psalmed]

Lia moved, rubbing against him, lewdly pressing against his mouth to get more and more of that incredible feeling. It was wrong, all of this. Being in this room, letting him touch her, letting the orderly watch. But she had long ago lost control of the situation.

She felt his dick buck in her hand, the spill of wetness and that was it for her, really. The cry she gave was louder, too loud, and she shuddered against him as she peaked. Wetness coated his chin as she twitched and trembled, fingers tightening horribly on him.

There was quiet in the room after. Only her panted breaths with Aomine's and she carefully shifted backwards, flushed and sweating, body still buzzing with the sensations. "That was..." A lot of things. Amazing. Wonderful. But also something that shouldn't have happened.

The orderly had his cock out, pleasuring himself. Lia looked away quickly, started to reach to pull her panties back up. "I should...I should clean you up."

[bluezone]

"I..."

It took him some time to come back from that. He felt sluggish still - the drip still going - and awash with afterglow. It'd been good, so good that he was left wondering what had happened, and the orderly was well on his way to orgasm before Aomine actually began to remember where he was and, subsequently, what they had just done.

He was sticky. Hot. Wet. There was a spreading, cooling, uncomfortable dampness, and he realized that he was strapped to a bed in a hospital room. Abortively, he tried to raise a hand to wipe his face, remembered that he couldn't, and then felt shame clutch in his chest. He looked at her, stunned anew by hew nakedness, and then saw the orderly, and then abruptly yanked his head to the side, overcome, humiliated, his chest getting tighter and tighter. He stared at the window and tried, desperately, to not hear the orderly's short, harsh breaths.

What did I just...what...

No -

"Why..."

His voice was hoarse and strange. He tasted her when he moved his tongue.

"Why did you..."

[psalmed]

Lia looked for a moment like she might cry. The rush of feeling gone, the blinders off. She looked at him with an exquisitely sad expression as she took a cloth and dampened it with water.

"Do not talk about it with anyone else, understand?" Her first thought is to how much he might be punished, then to herself and how she will lose everything. There is shame and guilt and that is why she is trying so very hard to ignore the orderly.

She wiped his face with utmost tenderness, offered him a sip of water before she moved to clean off his stomach and his cock. There was nothing to do for the sheet and she sighed lightly. "If I undo your ankles...will you promise not to kick? Then I can get you under the covers more properly."

Lia was totally ignoring the issue at hand. Bustling around him like distraction could make this better. "I will keep you safe, Daiki. Please trust me."

[bluezone]

The more time that passed, the more distressed Aomine became. There was something wrong with him; there was something wrong with all of this. His expression changed from exhausted and satisfied to alert and terrified, and he began to twist on the bed again, shame and denial in every line of his body, and more so when he was exposed to the air.

Naked, still. Trapped, still. And he had -

"No. No no no, let me go, what the fuck--"

The panic was coming back. All the fear. He was most certainly going to kick if she undid his restraints, already tense, already heaving against the straps, yelling.

"Let me--"

His ears popped.

"--go!!"

He heaved, rolled, and crashed to the floor, dust and dried leaves flying up against his body. A rat skittered away from him, out of sight, and the afternoon sunlight streamed in through dirty windows. His clothes were back on, though the familiar weight of his phone was still gone.

Around him, the ruins of the hospital were silent.

[psalmed]

" Do not..." Lia began to protest. He was going to hurt himself. He was going to bring other staff running. She yanked her dress up, fingers flew over the buttons. "Please. You have to stop...."

Her voice grew fainter and then it was gone entirely. Aomine was alone. In the same room, but without the trappings. Nothing but a rusted metal frame. No orderly and no Lia.

It was quiet. Nice and nearly peaceful except for the hum of insects outside.

Of course when Aomine made it to the hall it would change. The way Aomine had come down the hall was blocked, barricaded by rubble that hadn't been there before. Somewhere down the hall, a woman was crying.

An image of a blond would periodically appear down the hall, collapsed on the floor with hands over her face. Broken, but disappearing whenever Aomine got too close.

"Watch out." Another warning, whispered as he found rotted floor boards.

[bluezone]

There wasn't really time to think. Aomine was a simple guy; he didn't have to ponder things over. He saw what was right in front of his face and acted, mainly on gut and instinct.

His instinct told him to run.

The rubble shocked him, but he saw it, accepted it, and spun around. The woman was worse; he didn't want to see her. The first time he spotted her, he immediately turned around and rushed down a different hallway, the sound of his shoes pounding on the floor and the noise of his own harsh breathing far too loud in the silent space. The next time he saw her, he took the opposite time and when he heard her whisper, he stopped and ran back, back and back until he'd found another path, and a downward staircase.

He had to get out. He had to get out.

Going as fast as he was, and recklessly as he was, it was inevitable that he would trip. He didn't heed those warning whispers when they came to him, instead running faster and lashing out with his arm.

"Get off, get off-!!"

And so, his foot caught on a jutting board and he tumbled, crashing to the floor and skidding into a metal door with a harsh, ugly clang.

Immediately, pain blossomed in his shoulder and traveled down.

[psalmed]

"No! Do not hurt him!" A near yell followed Aomine, almost real. Lia's voice. "Just let him be and I will take care of it." From one room in particular. Aomine had reached a nicer point of the hospital. No bars on the window, but there's clearly been some water damage.

The floor began to splinter, Aomine's weight enough to damage weakened wood and it was clear there was another floor beneath him. The silence came back when he fell, leaving him in peace for a few moments.

But only a few. The ghost hands were back, taking his good arm to pull him up. "Not here. You can not be here. Back down this hall. To the left. There are doors..."

The whisper was cut off suddenly with a pained cry. The lights in the hallway began popping, bursting apart in a blizzard of glass. Lia was standing before him again, but only when he didn't stare. Visible from the corner of his eye as something grabbed at his ankle and tried to pull him back.

[bluezone]

His left arm felt numb, his fingers hot and twitching. There'd be a nasty bruise there before long. He would need...shit, ice? A compress. Pain killers. If he were at school, he'd just grab the first aid kit and -

Fuck, oh fuck...!

"Get the fuck off me-!!"

The momentary shot of pain had made his mind wander. He realized a few seconds too late that there was someone holding his ankle and, worse, that the floorboards were breaking under him. For a single dangerous moment he thrashed and kicked backwards, trying to hit his invisible assailant, but he heard the floor groan, right next to his ear, and instantly froze. If he fell, he'd probably...he'd die, wouldn't he? If he hit his head, he'd die.

He'd be stuck here for real, after all. With them.

So Aomine froze and was thusly yanked backwards without resisting, his hands on his head and the vision of Lia just visible at the edge of his vision. Instinctively, he covered his head with his hands as the lights burst, protecting them from the shower of glass, though there was nothing he could do about the acrid scene of ozone that filled his nostrils.

There was pressure in his ears. Dread began to build in his chest.

[psalmed]

"He says he does not want to be here-" But the words were apparently falling on deaf ears. The glass continued to shatter and Aomine was pulled backwards. Almost like he was falling through the floor, the sensation no doubt disorienting and sickening.

"More intensive treatment will be necessary." That time it was a male voice. Nasal and disinterested. "I trust you won't have a problem delivering it, nurse?"

Aomine would find himself naked again except for a blanket wrapped around him. Strapped to a table but with enough slack to be able to move, however slightly. Of course there was still that heavy sensation in his head, in his bloodstream, and another nurse was withdrawing a needle from his arm by the time Lia touched his face.

"It will not hurt at least. Alright, Trouble? You have been so difficult toward everyone..."

[bluezone]

The ringing didn't last as long, this time. There was the pop again and then a sensation like he was sinking through sand, or mud. He thought he would drown, but every labored breath made it all the way into his lungs and back out again, so all that pressure he was feeling wasn't real, not in the way that things were usually real.

When it was gone, there was light in his eyes and he couldn't move again, his arms and his legs strapped down, and he groaned from terror and denial. There wasn't anyone that Aomine wouldn't twist and struggle, though he'd been running for...ten, twenty minutes? He was already tired. He was panting on the bed, eyes wide and adrenaline rushing through him, fighting against that horribly familiar, bitterly hot sensation spreading out from his arm.

No, no, not again -

Aomine's eyes darted up the moment Lia touched him, locking onto her face.

Her again. He didn't see anyone else in the halls. Just her.

"Let me go," this he said in a hoarse rush, his chest leaping up and down and his heart pounding wildly. "Let me go, let me up, let me go."

While he could still think clearly.

[psalmed]

Lia's eyes filled with tears and she simply shook her head, cupping his face between her hands. "I would. I would but I can not and you would run and they would simply bring you back."

She hated to see him suffer. But if she could get him to understand. This was for his own good. This would make him well. If he could regain his sanity then she could let him go.

"Please," She begged softly, resting her forehead against his even if he could headbutt her for that. "Please I want to make you well. You are running such a high fever. We have to bring it down."

It was daylight outside. Not morning he had left in the present, or the night of the last time she saw him, but afternoon light.

[bluezone]

Her expression shouldn't have made his chest ache. This was his life that was in danger, and she was already -

But ache it did, and in spite of himself, Aomine's struggled got slower, and then stopped, all in that time that he stared back at her, caught by her tears and by all the regret in her words. He didn't think about how the light looked different, though he would, later; he thought that, maybe, he should try to tell her again. If he went slower, this time, made it sound sensible and reasonable and not crazy at all, she would listen to him.

He didn't strike out at her. If it had been anyone else, he would have. But he didn't hit her, and he didn't deny her, though he did shrink back a little, a fist coiling in his chest.

"I'm..." His throat hurt. All the yelling, all the running; it was no wonder. "I'm fine. I don't need anything. I'm fine."

[psalmed]

"Your fever is very high," Lia repeated. "Over a hundred and two. We have told the doctors we will bring it down. That there is no reason to open your skull to relieve pressure..."

Her words were meant to be reassuring but they were probably more startling. She reached for a cup of water. Always on hand for him, and then she found a candy in her pocket to offer to him. One that would melt, even if he did choke on it.

She steadied herself, dried her tears before anyone else could see. She did so want him well. "I think you can be fine. I do not think you are crazy. Only you sometimes take leave of your senses."

Nurses were bustling around to prepare. Towels and water. Other equipment Aomine may or may not recognize. It would not be comfortable, certainly, but at least it wouldn't be torture.

[bluezone]

Was it? With everything else going on, it was hard to separate everything going on with his body. He felt sluggish again, hot and weighed down, but was that really from fever? Or was he just tired? He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, at least after what he still thought of as "yesterday morning." It had to be getting to him -

"My...my head?" Aomine's thoughts were interrupted by Aomine's shock. He shrank back a little, horrified. "H-hey, there's no need to...why would..."

Oh, god, he didn't want to die here. He wanted out, but not at the cost of his goddamn skull.

"Isn't there...there's something else...isn't there? You don't have to do that."

[psalmed]

"There is no need. I will try to prevent that from happening. I will keep you safe." She said the last sentence more to herself than to him. He was her duty now. Given by God, required to protect him.

It helped that he was cute. Young. That she saw the promise of a sweet boy inside when he was screaming and raving and nearly killing everyone that came close by.

The nurses glanced at them, probably amazed she could calm him down. "We are going to give you an enema to bring the fever down. I am afraid it will not be so comfortable but certainly milder than anything else..."

Of course she had to be all business about this. She pressed her lips against his forehead. "If you behave I will see about letting you loose. You need exercise."

[bluezone]

"A...what?"

His look of disbelief had to be almost funny.

"How...but."

In his day and age, some aspirin was more than enough to help with a fever. Or just...cold compresses. Or anything but - Aomine didn't struggle, but he did look completely horrified. His eyes darted around the room, catching sight of the towels, the water, the other people. Where they all going to...? And for how long? And...and.

Maybe he could just die instead. Maybe that wasn't so bad.

"...I'll be okay. I don't need it. I can power through it. Do you have an aspirin?"

[psalmed]

"We gave you aspirin. And antibiotics. Nothing is helping so we are hoping this will." Lia's tone seemed so reasonable. Of course Aomine would be scared. Of course boys his age were embarrassed about such things.

"We are all nurses. I will stay with you, yes? Just us." She tried to be matter of fact about it. Practical. "It will all be over quickly, right? Bend your legs up."

There was enough slack that she helped him, kept the blanket over his legs for modesty. Most of the nurses left the room, intent on getting to another patient or to get a break. Only one stayed, pulling over the dreaded treatment syringe and the bowl of water. It certainly looked intimidating, even if Lia's handling of it was nearly expert.

"I know we will be friends." She said, holding an instrument of his misery. "Only trust me."

[bluezone]

"N...o. Noooo no no no."

He wished he had it in him to kick her. He wished that he did. He even tensed to try, then lost his nerve, and tried to lock up instead. As soon as she let him go, he pulled his legs back down and crossed them tightly, Indian-style, his eyes riveted on that syringe. It was even a little horrifying how good she seemed to be with it, because it meant that this happened all the time, and so he had to ask: what kind of fucking hospital was this.

With his arms still strapped, he couldn't pull himself up much further on the bed, but fuck did he try.

"I'm okay without it." He repeated, sounding twice as frazzled. "Maybe if I die I can go home."

Which...no, that wasn't how it worked, but the panic and the embarrassment were making it hard to think. That, and the heat in his head, but that was just fever, right?

"You can put that away. It's fine. I'm fine."

It was like trying to tell someone to put a gun down.

[psalmed]

"Daiki." She was careful using his name. But she felt this was needed when he crawled nearly halfway across the bed from her. Of course there was shame attached but most of the men...well they had long since accepted they would need to do certain things to get better.

"Do not say you want to die," She added, pulling his legs back down more firmly. He wasn't easy to move, most definitely. But fortunately she had the leverage. "Do you want them to cut a hole in your head? Open up your skull? The infection you could get..."

It obviously troubled her. She sighed again, rubbing his trembling thigh as though that would actually help. "Only you and I here. What can I do to make you behave? I am afraid I have given you all the candy I had in my pockets."

She was trying to make a joke out of it, but it was clear she was a bit exhausted from more than just her struggle with him. There were bruises on her neck when her braid shifted to reveal them. "You are always so good for me. Can you be good for this?"

[bluezone]

No. No he didn't want that. He absolutely, definitely didn't want that. And as much as he'd struggle, he had serious fucking doubts about his ability to get away or to stop them if he tried. But still -

He might've denied her again if he hadn't spotted the dark spots on her neck. He wasn't even really sure why he looked or how it was that he had the attention to realize that they were there. He was still wrapped up in panicking, still busy wringing his hands and thinking about how much he didn't want to do this, and yet once he saw them, he stopped and swallowed hard.

He thought of the orderly. He didn't ask, but he thought of him.

There was a long, tense silence. Aomine realized he was shaking. He hated that.

"...it's only once, right?"