Summary: Michael goes to see psychiatrist!reader because he wants to be better and stop his murdering urges and the as the sessions progress, he starts to fall in love with the reader.
Warning: RAPE, gore?, language
Word Count: 2783
@.kyliehorsegirl/tumblr
★★★★
★★★★
"Larry, did you give him my first name?" Y/n asked as she signed the 'out' sheet.
"What? No not at all Dr. Quinzel." She nodded at him, leaving the room.
It had puzzled her all day. She had asked a few people she thought may have talked to him, but no one talked to him and a lot of the employees didn't even know her first name. She finished out her day with a few more patient sessions before retiring to her office for some charting.
"What did you think?" Y/n looked up from her laptop to see Nancy, dressed ready to leave. Y/n glanced at the clock on her laptop and noticed it was later than she thought.
"He knew my name, like my first name." She stopped typing and looked at Nancy.
"Your first name? How the hell did he get that?" Nancy walked into her office.
"I don't know. I asked around, some of our employees don't even know my first name. He's odd for sure, he's going to be an interesting patient."
Y/n found herself in the session room once more with Michael Langdon. They had gone about their session with some more intro questions. Y/n's guard was up even more than the day before.
She was writing down on her notepad when he interrupted her thoughts.
"My father told me your name. I'm sorry, I know you don't want to be on a first name basis. That was wrong of me to do." She stopped writing and looked up at him. Her eyes wondered his features, trying to look for any indication that he wasn't being honest. From what she could see though, he was.
"That was very kind of you to apologize, I ask that you respect our doctor/patient dynamic please." She searched his eyes and found nothing, he nodded in agreement.
"I have a hard time judging situations. I typically want to be in control of them, this is new for me."
"I understand." She nodded at him. Y/n asked more questions about his childhood. About his father.
"Yesterday, you told me your father is Satan, but your file says your father committed suicide?"
"That wasn't my father. He was my mother's husband, but not my biological father."
"So, your biological father, is Satan." He nodded. "Do you feel bad for the things you have done? Remorse?"
"I don't feel bad, I, I guess I do, but everything has to happen for a reason. I feel like it was meant to shape me and teach me."
"If it was meant to teach you, why do we end up here?"
"I don't know, honestly, I thought it was the right thing to do."
"You think it, but do you believe it?" He didn't speak for a moment. He pondered her question.
"I don't know."
"Hey Billie, do you remember that house you were telling me about?" Y/n poured herself a glass of wine. She walked out onto her balcony, an oversized sweater and long knee-high socks provided her enough warmth to fight the cool autumn night.
"Yeah, Murder house, a hell of a time." She sat on a lounge chair enjoying the view from her apartment.
"You said there was evil there right?"
"Yeah, it was bad Y/n. The whole house was evil, it consumed everyone who lived there." Y/n paused.
"Would you go as far to say, demons, Satan perhaps?" It had been over a week since she first started having sessions with Michael.
"I would. It was a dark place, so many lost souls. It was bad. I felt so much darkness and pain."
"Hmm."
"Why do you ask? Is everything ok?"
"I may need help with a patient."
"What's wrong."
"One of my patients thinks his father is Satan, that he is the antichrist." There was nothing on the other line. Y/n waited for Billie to say something as she took a sip of her dark wine.
"Y/n, is your patient Michael?" Y/n's jaw clenched.
"I can't answer that, with HIPPA and all. If I have you come in as a consultant you can know the information."
"I can be there as soon as next week." Y/n didn't know if her sigh was relief or not.
"Thanks Billie, I'll make a note about it. I really appreciate it."
"Anytime Y/n."
When she hung up the phone, she grabbed a cigarette from her silver holder and lite it, taking a drag.
"How are you doing today Mr. Langdon?"
"Whose Billie?" Her eyes widened looking at him. His face was paler, there were bags under his eyes, like he hadn't been sleeping. "Don't lie to me."
"She's, a friend. She will be coming to see you next week."
"What if I don't want to see her?" A stray lock of hair fell in one of his eyes.
"I would have to may a not that you are not being compliant."
"I'll see her and be compliant under one condition." He reached his hands out onto the table as far as the chains would let him.
"You aren't in a position to bargain."
"All I want is for you to call me Michael." She stared at him, longer than she should've. She chewed on her lip in contemplation.
"Fine, Michael, Billie will come next week to see you, ok?" She said against her better judgment. He smiled like a kid who opened the gift they had been wanting on Christmas. He nodded eagerly.
His infatuation for her grew with each session. He opened up to her more and more as they days leading to Billie's visit drew near. He would smile and speak with real emotion. She felt like she was making progress, it wasn't the sessions per say, it was her. He wanted her and he would have her.
She recognized his attractiveness, as a medical professional and someone who dealt with mental illness, she found it easy to disassociate.
It was Saturday when Billie arrived at Y/n's apartment. She poured her a glass of wine as the two of them sat on the balcony, smoking their cigarettes.
"How are things coming along?" Billie asked taking a drag.
"Coming I guess, I think I'm making progress with him, at least I hope so." Y/n took a sip of her wine.
"If this is Michael, you need to be very careful Y/n. He is dangerous." Billie gave her a concerned look.
***
"Where were you?" Michael asked, his bags had returned.
"It was the weekend Michael; our sessions are Monday through Friday." She felt a sliver of concern for him.
"I missed our sessions, you help me sleep at night. The voices are quiet after our sessions." The brokenness in his voice pained her. She had to remember what Billie said. His eyes look to the second chair next to Y/n. "She's, here isn't she?"
"Yes, but we are just going to talk like normal, you don't have to talk to Billie if you don't want to." Y/n waved to Larry and he buzzed the door, allowing Billie to enter.
"Hello Michael." She smiled tightly at him. He gave her a once over, following her as she took a seat next to Y/n. Billie immediately felt uncomfortable as soon as she walked in. She sensed his energy, she felt his emotions. There were so many, it was overwhelming.
"Hello."
"We are just going to have a normal session ok Michael?" Y/n asked carefully.
"I don't want her to take you away from me." Y/n and Billie exchanged looks.
"I'm your psychiatrist Michael, she won't take me away from you." Y/n reassured him.
After the session with Billie, she pulled Y/n aside.
"There is a cloud of darkness over him. It feels like he wants to rid himself of the cloud, but quite literally speaking, he is having an internal warfare. It's like having a devil and angel on your shoulder. You need to be careful Y/n."
"Billie, is he actually the son of Satan?" Billie nodded. Y/n took a deep breath, Billie had helped her with patients before, but nothing this supernatural.
"I don't know what to do Billie."
"Keep him talking, he didn't like me there, but he likes you. It seems like he will do well if you can keep working with him.
"Thank you, ok."
Y/n found over time, their sessions went longer, she was more engaging, not just as a doctor, but as a friend. From what Michael had told her and what Billie told her, Michael never had a friend. It was always people that used him for their best interest.
One day, Michael was sitting in his room and a food tray came through the slot. It was French toast with a note.
'heard these were your favorite.
Quinn'
Michael smiled, genuinely smiled. At their next session, him and Y/n talked more about her, she offered up some information but nothing too personal. She felt herself growing more and more comfortable with him, maybe too much.
She found herself always thinking about him, even on her days off, she thought about him when she was home, on her way to work, in her office. Michael could sense it. She had been in sessions with him for a few months now. Every Friday, she made sure he had French toast for breakfast, almost a sorry for her weekend.
He was allowed to be out of his chains on good behavior. Their first session without the restraints there was a guard in the room. He was careful about what he said in front of the guard. He was on his best behavior. After a week or so, Y/n insisted the guard leave them, reluctantly, he did.
"Can I tell you something?" Michael asked her. They were closer in distance than any time before.
"Of course, you can Michael." She smiled at him.
"I really like you." Her jaw clenched. She knew how much courage that must have taken. She didn't want to shoot him down, but she didn't want to encourage this kind of behavior.
"I'm glad you like me Michael, I guess that means I'm a good Doctor huh?" Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Her heart almost broke at the look of defeat.
"I, like, like you." Her eyes closed momentarily, calculating her next move.
"You can't Michael, you are my patient. I am here to help you." She said carefully, not to trigger him. He didn't say anything. He remained silent, their entire session until she gave up and left.
She sat in her office, thinking and not working. She found herself looking over his file. He was bad. She never had feelings for a patient, she didn't even think she had real feelings. She had to nip this in the butt. It was puppy love, that he had for her.
"Hey, are you staying?" Y/n snapped out of her daze to see Nancy standing at her door.
"Oh, yeah, I have to finish my charting, I've been off today." She said turning on her laptop.
"Ok, well be careful."
"Thanks Nancy." The lights in the main office were off, just a small light illuminated Y/n's office. She went back and forth from charting and searching Murder House. It was hard to find the information she was looking for.
Her attention went to the main office when she heard a door open.
"Hello?" Nothing. She gave a quick glance before she continued typing. She felt a sudden chill in the air. She looked up to see a dark figure entering her office. Her breath hitched as she reached for her gun hiding in her desk.
"Shh, it's just me Y/n." A husky voice speaks.
"Larry? What are you doing here?"
"I was hoping you would be here alone." He made his way around her desk to stand by her staring down.
"What the hell are you doing?" He runs his fingers over her bare arm, absent of her doctor coat.
"Its not fair you get to walk around acting like you run the place with your skimpy clothes." He grabs her arm in a bruising grip.
"What the fuck Larry let me go!" She thrashed and screamed at him.
"You know I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you." He grabs her throat and crushes her lips with his rough ones. She brings her free hand to shove his chest, he doesn't budge. She isn't the strongest person in the world, but it doesn't make things easier that he's a security guard.
"Get off!" She kicks at him, aiming for his junk and missing. He slaps her in the face, the sting of his palm biting her cheek. He brings his baton to the back of her neck. Her vision goes blurry as he slams her into the desk. He hikes her skirt up and rips her panties off.
Girls always here horror stories, but they are no longer stories when it happens to you. Her vision was cloudy, her head was spinning and defeated tears ran down her face as he raped her. He raped her in her own office. She whimpered as he fucked her. It and stung, everywhere hurt.
He buckled his pants; the sound of her sniffling was the only thing that could be heard.
"Don't even think about calling out tomorrow." He grabs her chin and kisses her lips hard as he leaves her, a mess.
She goes home, silent her entire drive, numb. When she crawls weekly in her bed, she cries herself to sleep.
No one noticed that she was off. She knew she couldn't say anything. Who knows what he was capable of. Could he have followed her home?
Before she entered the actual session room, Michael sensed that she was off. She was not dressed like her normal self. She wore a long sleeve, pants and slip on shoes. Signing in, she didn't look Larry in the eyes.
"Hi, Dr. Quinzel." His sickening voice penetrated her ears. She wanted to vomit. She cleared her throat and composed herself.
Michael had always been observant. More so today, she was off. She was dressed different, she felt off. Her movements were calculated, almost robotic. He watched her carefully as she winced sitting down.
She prepared her notepad and file, while she was doing so, he looked at Larry, who was staring holes in the back of her head. Michael's eyes darted between Y/n and Larry. His fists clenched under the table along with his jaw. He was beginning to make a correlation.
Y/n reached forward and her sleeve road up her arm just a bit. Michael noticed a slight bruise forming on her arm.
'Did he rape you' Y/n heard in her head. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. She looked to Michael. His eyes were full of anger and his plush lips were in a tight line. Her lip began to quiver and her eyes were getting watery.
'yes' She thought, she didn't know if he could hear her. She saw his nostrils flare. He composed himself quickly. They continued their session as normal as possible.
She typed as fast as she could to get out of there soon. It was still late, she was bogged down since she couldn't finish her charting last night. Everyone had already left early, it made her want to finish even more, she didn't want to be alone. She finished typing and was about to get up when she was stopped by Larry.
"Hello Y/n." His evil grin made her sick.
"Larry please leave me alone."
"Oh no doll face, last night was our appetizer." He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her roughly against the wall.
"No!" A sob wrecked through her body.
"Cry all you want baby, no one is going to hear you."
"Think again asshole." She saw Michael grab his and throw him off of her. Tears poured like Niagara Falls, she couldn't even question how Michael was out of his cell.
"You are never going to hurt anyone again." Michael was behind him, his hand tightly around Larry's throat. "Apologize." Larry struggled against Michael, who somehow began to burn his throat, Larry screamed.
"Ok, ok, I'm sorry Y/n. I'm sorry."
"Not good enough." Michael's eyes rolled back and he reached through Larry's chest, punching a hole and bringing his heart to the open. Michael ripped his hand out of his chest cavity, heart in hand as Larry fell to the ground, dead. Michael through his heart on his body, as he made his way to Y/n's cowering figure.
"Shh, it's ok. He won't hurt you again Y/n." She looked up at him with watery eyes and tear stained cheeks. He brought his hands to cup her face, gently brushing away her tears. She launched herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck in a tight grip.
"Thank you, Michael, you saved me." She pulled away from him slightly, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. He slowly leaned in, he waited, hovered over her lips. She pushed her lips onto his, meeting him the rest of the way.
"You saved me, Y/n. I won't let anyone ever hurt you." He held her tight. He would protect her, he would love her, because he was hers and she was his.