I followed Dr. M to a relatively neat room, the grey floor was carpeted, the tan walls had abstract picture frames hanging wherever there was no tall bookshelf, an old oak desk sat behind two brown cushiony chairs that faced one another.
The doctor took a seat in one chair, gesturing to the other before him, "Please take a seat, lets have a chat".
The two large men shut the door behind me, leaving the doctor and I alone, I did as told and shuffled into the cushioned chair, glancing around at the furnishings, not missing the end of a syringe poking out of Dr. M's chest pocket, "Now then, I have a few question to ask, you don't need to answer of course they are more to get an understanding of what treatment would be for the best".
He flipped back through his papers, surpassingly calm for someone who willingly cornered themselves in a room with a potential- or... I suppose actual murderer.
"That is unnecessary sir... you already know me quiet well" I reached for my mask, ignoring the weight of the steel cuffed to my arms, the doctor looked confused, cocking his brow before the plastic fell from my face.
I do not know how he will react when he realizes, or if he even will, it's been years since we last had a conversation face to face, I've definitely grown since then, he may not recognize me.
The clatter of the clipboard pulled me from the thought, before I could even comprehend, I'm embraced in a hug, Dr. M pulled me close to his chest, muffled sobs vibrated from my shoulder.
"Where...? where have you been...?" his body shook, sniffling like a child "You vanished... for a whole year, I thought the worst..."
Finally recollecting myself I pat him on the back, I too was on the verge of tears, I felt guilt, this man looked after me for so many years of my life, and I had left him.
He pulled away, wiping his snot with his sleeve, then he paused, "You! you should not be here (Y/N), what have you done? you are not the type of person who should be here!".
He retrieved his fallen clipboard, franticly flipping through the papers, I sat still in my chair, letting everything play out as it should.
He stopped, spinning on his heals and strutting over to me, taking hold of both my shoulders, "Let me see your back! you haven't been marked by that monster right!? please tell me you have not!".
He was desperately shaking me, coaxing for an answer, unsure of what he is referring to I answered truthfully, "No, no he did not, or I don't think".
He sighed relieved, slumping down into his chair, he smiled at me once more, running his fingers through his locks, "Good... that's good, you can be released after recuperation then..."
He held his face in his hands, suddenly looking older, "Damn it (Y/N) ... trouble seems to follow you..."
Don't I know it.