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

[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?"

[psalmed]

"Oh darling." Aomine simply looked so frightened. Something beneath the embarrassment. Of course he was scared. Sick and alone, tied down in a place like this.

She stroked his thigh again. The room was quiet except for the noise filtering in from the hall. She leaned up and held his hand, kissed him again. "I will not let anything happen to you. I will not hurt you."

Except for his own good. She shouldn't make such promises. "Just this once. Just what is in the basin. Just us." He had stopped struggling so completely that she was alarmed.

Back to work. She guided the syringe up, smearing the lubricant on the tip, letting him feel it against him as she pressed it in. "Pant like a puppy. Think of something else. What do you study in school?"

[bluezone]

He felt guilty, hearing her talk like that, which was ludicrous, honestly. She was the only one that was guilty here--well, her, and the strange universe she kept leading him to. And yet she was so gentle, and seemed so remorseful, that the secret soft parts of Aomine's heart couldn't help but reluctantly respond.

...of course, reality ensued a moment later, and he hissed, then squirmed, and felt his whole face light up.

That was...yes. That was his asshole. His goddamn asshole.

"Ff...fuck, that's cold - "

That was definitely a thing in his ass. He squirmed again and pulled at his arms, helplessly restless. God, he wanted to buck and yank himself away, wanted to turn the whole fucking table over. He wanted to scream and he kind of wanted to laugh. He definitely wanted to die.

What Aomine did instead was bark out the first thing that came to mind: "Basketball. We did basketball."

[psalmed]

"For your fever," Lia reminded him as though he could have forgotten that and she was just handing him a cool drink. She was careful with him, holding his hips as best as she could.

She let him squirm, let him process the sensation a little bit. "Basketball." It was surprised, in a way. That he would focus on a sport. But as she depressed the plunger, let the water flow into him, she tried to keep him on that topic. "You enjoy basketball? Do you play well?"

That would explain some of his physique wouldn't it? An athlete? "I will take you to the court...we have one outside for the nurses. Would you like that?"

The first syringe was replaced by a second. Maybe they had prescribed too much water but as long as he didn't fight she was going to go ahead.

[bluezone]

"Ah...ah...ah, fuck - "

There was no way he wouldn't flinch back and recoil away from that a little. It was...like...fuck, he didn't know. He'd never felt anything like that before. The cold him in first, shocking and personal, and then just the sense of pressure, of just stuff, and he twisted and dropped his head back, his face red and his whole body shivering. The inevitably bathroom analog occurred immediately and his muscles seized up as a result, cinching tight and just holding it in, even after she pulled the syringe loose.

God, it was awful. It was the worst fucking thing. And now he was trembling from the chill and panting from the humiliation, his fists tight and turning in their restraints.

Really, basketball was probably the only thing in the world that would keep him talking and at least marginally distracted. "You...shit, you woul--ah, god, it's cold-!"

And, he was noticing, not just cold, but a lot.

"Would they even...let you...?"

[psalmed]

"Mouth," She reminded him, patient. "Do you need another lesson?" Obviously he did. She saw people floating by the room, trying to see how the little demon would handle any of this. Not well, Lia can say, but at least not horribly.

She refilled the syringe. The water was at least warming to room temperature and that as well was inserted, Lia leaning forward to bite at Aomine's bent knee for a distraction as she pushed it in. Smoothly, slickly, keeping it there inside him for Aomine to get used to.

"They would let me if you stopped running like a maniac. But you could teach me to play, right?" The water went in more slowly and Lia could feel the shiver run through him.

"Breathe with me. You will be alright." Of course she would say that, fingers rubbing up and down his inner thighs. "Mostly done."

[bluezone]

"Hey, let's see you try and--nnngh."

The temperature was evening out, it was true, but the pressure was only getting worse. The blanket hid most of his shame from view, but he could feel it anyway: the sensation of being too full, the push up, and out. In his imagination he could see his stomach puffing slightly, down there near the bottom, and it made him feel hot and too-tight, sort of like -

Oh, fuck.

Aomine clammed up suddenly. He sealed his lips and didn't say another word, forcing himself to be utterly still and squeezing his eyelids shut. The best response she got to her question was a quick, stiff nod, and then nothing else beyond that. He tried not to think about how her fingers felt on his skin at the same time, or how his knee was prickling in the still air from where she'd bitten him.

Mostly done, she'd said; the sooner this was over with, the better.

[psalmed]

"What makes you think I haven't?" Lia countered with a wicked look. Something not so sweet or docile or humble. Some hint of a personality when she wasn't a nurse. "The head nurse is a stickler for illness. Any sign of it and we could expect to receive this treatment and worse."

Aomine stopped speaking suddenly and that was even worse, even more concerning. "Are you hurt? I know it is uncomfortable but you should not hurt..." Her hand ran up, over the blanket and over his groin, peeling back the fabric to lightly prod at his stomach. Perhaps he'd pulled a muscle?

"Only a minute. Then I'll walk you and leave you to it. I do not suggest trying to squeeze out of the washroom windows. You would never fit." All the while she rubbed slow circles on his skin, resting her cheek against the inside of his leg and trying to be comforting.

"Do you like history? Arithmetic?"

[bluezone]

Oh, no. It was worse, hearing her admit that. It was worse when she kept touching him like that. It was worse that her face was so incredibly close. He had to wonder if it was on purpose, all of it, if it was the same as back in the room when he hadn't been able to help himself. Was she doing this just to drive him crazy? So she could cure him for real?

He didn't know, he didn't know, and he was starting to panic again, his heart fluttering in his chest and his eyes squeezing together all the more tightly as, little by little, blood rushed to his cock. And how sick was that? He was full of...he was full, and it was awful, and he could feel a little dampness running down between his cheeks, just a little, as he trembled and tried to hold it all in. He didn't even think it was really helping his fever at all, considering he felt a warmth under his skin and trickling down his nerves, just to match the sweat on his brow.

With all that going on, Aomine knew better than to answer verbally.

He just shook his head, and kept his lips sealed shut. If he could just last until she let him go to the bathroom...

[psalmed]

He looked like he was suffering. Lia instantly wanted to make the suffering better. "Roll onto your side. Carefully..." She helped, letting the restraints have enough slack that he could turn over. That would be beneficial, she thought.

His skin was flushed. His eyes were shut so tightly she smoothed fingers over his brow to try to relax the muscles in his face. "Daiki," She murmured, a sing song, sweet and gentle and the same sound that had lured him here in the first place."What is wrong? You have to tell me."

Fingers stroked down. Over his stomach where there was a noticeable little swell, pulling the blanket up to settle it more comfortably. He was sweet to watch. Perhaps he was simply so pent up it made him crazy.

Lia laid beside him, taking his hand and pressing it over her heart. A bit fast, but certainly not pounding like his was. She put her knee between his thighs, careful instead he decided he wanted to kick her. "We do not have to talk about school."