Before you even knew what was happening, your head collided with the wall.
. . .
A bright white light blinded you, and a sharp beeping rung in your ears. You could feel the blood pounding in your head and a stabbing pain. You blinked hard and a teal curtain came into focus, followed by familiar white walls. You clenched your teeth and pushed yourself up. The plastic-y sheets of the hospital bed crunched as you planted both feet onto the floor. The cold seeped in through your thin lace socks, and you realized you were missing your shoes.
"Hey, how are you feeling?"
You quickly looked over at the doorway to the room you were in. To your relief, it was Dani.
"Okay," you replied, grimacing from moving your head too fast. "What happened?"
"Your patient went crazy and attacked you, Y/N."
"What?" you shouted, panicked. "Oh, no, no, I can't believe I messed up on my first day."
Dani's eyes widened.
"That's what you're worrying about? That psycho just bashed in your head!"
"He's not a psycho," you answered as you smoothed out your top. You grabbed your blazer from the chair beside the bed and slid it on, pulling it down on both sides. You were hardly listening to a word Dani was rambling anymore. You needed to go explain to Dr. Monroe. "Do you know where my shoes are, Dani?"
"I think you should take the day off," she urged, but handed you your Mary Janes without protest.
"Thanks, Dani, but I don't need to." You took a few steps, a little wobbly. "See? I'm good. You can stop worrying about brain damage or whatever now."
As soon as you left the room, you guided your hand along the plaster wall to support yourself. You considered walking barefoot, but that seemed unprofessional, so you just continued. To your luck, you spotted Dr. Monroe in the pharmacy room. His expression dropped when he spotted you.
"Y/N, what are you doing? Did you need some aspirin?" he asked, concerned.
"No, I was looking for you, sir."
"It can wait, you should go rest. You can use the infirmary until you have a ride home."
"Dr. Monroe," you said in a serious tone. "I thought I should talk with you. I know you had high hopes for me, and now this happens on my first day. I-"
"Nonsense, my dear." He gently rested a hand on your shoulder. "Ocean has a history of unpredictable violence. The past few people in this position all quit within their first week because of it. Though, I hope you won't follow in their footsteps."
"I won't, sir, but I take full responsibility."
"Y/N, you couldn't have known that was a trigger for him."
"I knew about his trauma around abandonment, so I should have known that he saw his previous doctors quitting as more acts of abandonment."
"Look, I don't expect you to work any further today," he said curtly. "I know you care about your patient, but frankly, you shouldn't waste your efforts trying to help Ocean improve. He's only gotten worse so far."
"I still need to try, sir," you insisted. "It's my job, isn't it?"
His eyes darted away from yours. "If I'm honest, Y/N, you're here mainly as a caretaker."
"You're right. I was hired as Ocean's psychiatrist. I will take care of him."
He looked at you, half-intrigued and half-troubled. He sighed, and in a low voice, granted,
"If you wish, you can help Ocean to lunch. He should be more cooperative, since he didn't have breakfast."
"Thank you, sir, you won't be disappointed," you gushed and made your way to the cafeteria. Your head felt like it was going to explode, but you were determined to carry on. As you passed the front desk, you stopped to visit Dani.
"I'm still good!" you grinned, making jazz hands at her, then immediately wincing and bracing your head.
She gave you an exasperated look. "Good as in good to go back to work?"
"Yes, and that's exactly what I'm doing," you said with a proud look on your face.
"I don't understand why you'd want to go back," Dani muttered and handed you Ocean's folder. There was a wrinkled line on the front, like it had been folded one way and then folded back the other. "Just- try not to get hurt again, okay?"
"Okay," you promised, not sure if you meant it.
You expected the food to be more high-quality in a wealthy facility like Forrest, but it wasn't too bad. The hard plastic lunch tray you carried in your hands held a piece of golden-brown toast, a peeled clementine, a salad (with fork, which made you nervous), a bottled water, and a straw. You were less dizzy now, and were steady on your feet even with a folder wedged under your arm. You hummed as you made your way to room 206 again, trying to keep the tray balanced in one hand as you unlocked the doors with the other. You took a deep breath and entered Ocean's room. He was laying on the bed- having been sedated, you presumed- but got up groggily as soon as you shut the door.
"I'm sorry for waking you up," you started, holding the tray out. "Are you hungry?"
He glared at you, but begrudgingly nodded. You gingerly stepped closer to him, setting the tray down on the bed.
"Can I sit here?"
He paused before nodding again. It was progress! You took a seat as far away from him as possible without it being obvious, twisting opening the water bottle and sticking the straw in. His lips were chapped, and you knew he must be thirsty.
"Is it okay if I help you?"
Another nod. He drank half of the bottle and eyed the rest of the tray ravenously. You took the clementine and separated it into fourths with your hands. You slowly brought one up to his face, trying to stay steady. When he opened his mouth to take it, you noticed how sharp his canines were, and realized he could probably bite your finger off if he wanted. You shook the thought as Ocean finished the last piece and began tearing up the toast for him.
"Are you feeling okay? I'm sorry about earlier," you said, breaking the silence. He didn't respond. He did continue to eat, though, and that was good enough for you.
"I'm going to have to use the fork now, Ocean," you warned, making sure he knew your every move. But as soon as it got within a foot of him, it fell to the bed and you yelped in pain. Blood was running down your hand from a set of bite marks. You wrapped your other hand around the injured one, making sure the blood didn't reach the immaculate white floor. Today was not going too well for you, but you reminded yourself that it was worth it.
"I'm sorry, are you okay?" you asked Ocean, but he just stared at you, the fierceness in his eyes mixed with a hint of confusion. "Just let me get this bandaged, and I'll be right back, I promise."
"Promise?" he mumbled under his breath. You froze, bracing yourself for the worst, thinking that it must've been another trigger. Instead, he asked again, almost unsure, "You... promise?"
"I promise," you said firmly.
"Thanks, Dani." You leaned on the black marble top of the desk as Dani disinfected and wrapped your hand in gauze. As soon as you had shown her your injury, she gave you an I-told-you-so look, but she still offered to help you sanitize and dress your wound.
"You can't go back in there, Y/N," she pressed, taping down the end of the bandage. "That man's rabid. He should be in jail, not a hospital."
"Dani, you can't say that."
"What? It's true-"
"No, it's not." You shot her a scornful look. "He just needs some time to manage, to know that I won't hurt him."
"That you won't hurt him? That doesn't make- Whatever. Just don't expect me to take care of you the next time you get banged up."