Angels In Disguise: a The Script fanfic

Stubbornness & Lies.

Maria.

After Danny stopped harassing me via the nurses, I fell asleep. I've not a clue how. Must have been all that vodka, and of course being so angry get pretty tiring. I still can't believe he did that, why couldn't he just leave me alone?

It was the first night in ages that I didn't have a nightmare, so I must have been really exhausted. The nurses let me sleep until about 10, at which point they decided I needed breakfast. Ugh, great. I managed to force down some toast, just to keep them off my case.

Thankfully, none of them knew me, however the same can't be said for Dr Graham. He's the psychiatrist who is coming to assess me. He is also a colleague; I have to work closely with the psych team for referrals to and from me.

He arrives at half 11. The assessment takes about an hour. I keep my guard up, there is no way I'm telling him anything.

The story I've settled on is that I got drunk on my own & I was so drunk that I didn't know what I was doing and I don't remember anything.

It's not all lies; I was really drunk, and I was on my own.

But I daren't risk my job by telling the truth. It's all I have.

It's such a relief when the assessment finally finishes. But then he tells me the worst news.

"I recommend you stay in hospital for another week, have regular therapy sessions, and I'm signing you off work for the foreseeable future. I'm also prescribing you some Prozac, the nurses will get you started on it tomorrow."

Fucking WHAT. No way. I can't be stuck in here for a week. I can't lose my job. And I'm not doing bloody therapy. I already know that shit isn't going to help me. Neither are those fucking tablets. Prick.

He glances at me over his glasses, while pausing from his writing.

"Okay, Miss Grant?"

No. Far fucking from it.

"Mhmm." I nod at him with a weak smile.

I can't refuse, because they'll just clamp down harder. I'll just have to make them believe I'm better and that it's all a one off.

Since I have nothing with me, and nobody is going to my flat, I just ask the nurses for a pen and some paper. I sit and doodle, sometimes writing. It's about 2 when a nurse comes to tell me I have a visitor. I can tell straight away by her expression that its Danny, plus the fact nobody else knows I'm in here. He can fuck off, what does he even want?

She comes back a couple of hours later to tell me he's still asking to see me. Turns out he's a stalker as well as rock star and super hero!

He's not getting to see me. I don't want his pity or new album, thank you very much.

After tea, I get moved to the psych ward. I'm grateful that I have my own room and that it's a small ward. That means I don't have to talk to anyone unless I want to.

My life for the next week will be sketching, writing and lying my way out of here.

But on the third day of asking, I give in.