A.N. HIII ALL IM GONNA SAY FOR THIS CHAPTER IS PLEASE VOTE, COMMENT, AND SHARE THE STORY IT WOULD MEAN A LOT :D THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING UP TO THIS POINT ILY (AND BY THE WAY I FINALLY DECIDED THAT ROSE AND HARRY'S SHIP NAME IS RORRY I KNOW IT TOOK ME 38 CHAPTERS TO DECIDE THAT BUT YEAH ITS OFFICIALLY RORRY)
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CHAPTER 39
This was Wickendale, a mental institution for the criminally insane. And insane was exactly what this woman was. This raggedy, haggard looking girl was simply crazed. She did not know right from wrong. She was confused. Her uniform and place here served as proof that she was untrustworthy. It was hard to believe any of the words that escaped her lips. And knowing Harry so well should give me a fully instilled confidence that her accusations were false. Whatever he did that was so horrible had probably just been made up in the woman's disturbed mind.
But why then, when she pointed that bony finger, did I feel a slight drop in the pit of my stomach? Why did my chest rise and fall with sharp breaths and why did my heart beat a little faster?
I knew Harry and loved Harry. I trusted him. And I wanted to dismiss the girl's words as a lie. I wanted to just nod and walk away. I didn't want to believe her, but something like curiosity lingered deep and prevented me from doing so.
"What did he do?" I asked. My tone lowered so that we weren't overheard.
The woman's dark hair fell around her face in greasy, tangled strands as she shook her head. "Something horrible. I'm not supposed to say. Just stay away from him."
"I'm not staying away unless you tell me." I would not accept her reply and walk away. I was so tired of being excluded from the secrets hidden in Wickendale's walls, and I didn't have time to wait around for answers.
She took a shaky breath into her lungs and I saw the deep blue stirring in her eyes. Her lips parted as if she were about to speak to me, and my heart leapt with anticipation of the divulging truth soon to follow. But her thoughts and speech were halted, and the only movement was in her eyes. They grew wide in fear of something over my left shoulder. I followed her gaze and jumped, Harry's body directly next to mine. And the woman scurried away.
I looked up at Harry's face with a pulsing heart, drumming wildly in my chest with my previous scare. And it was that second, just before the patient left and just before his eyes looked to mine that I saw it. He had been looking at her. His eyes were on her face and I caught hardly a glimpse of it, but it was there; a warning. A threat of some sort. As if with only his gaze he was telling her to back away, and in that fraction of a second he was the old Harry. He was the mask that he wore when I was still a nurse and he was still a patient, so many months ago in that cafeteria. He was that menacing criminal of horrendous felonies, trailing his hand along my thigh underneath the table. And as I was afraid of him then, I was afraid of him now for the infinity his eyes held in that small second.
But then his eyes grew bright again, turning to my face instead. Back to normal in a flash. "Hey," he greeted. "Who was that?" And it was there again underlying his tone. Barely existent, but I knew him well enough to recognize it. He was slightly on edge although he tried to hide it.
"Why don't you tell me," I said. I didn't mean for my voice to be cutting, but just the thought of him doing something monstrous like the woman had said, true or not, made me slightly defensive.
"What do you mean?" he asked, slightly taken back but not as taken back as he should've been.
"She was afraid of you. Like, really afraid."
He shrugged. "She thinks I skinned three women, of course she's afraid."
"Not that," I said, shaking my head. "She made it sound like it was because of something you did when you were here the first time. Something from when you were a kid."
His eyes flashed with a slight worry, but it evaporated quickly. "I don't know what she could be talking about. I mean I wasn't the best kid, but I didn't give anyone a reason to be afraid of me."
I didn't reply for a long time.
"What are you thinking about?" Harry asked me.
"Nothing," I said, shaking my head to clear it of its distrusting doubts. Suddenly I felt foolish. "I'm sorry, I know you didn't do anything. She just-it was just weird, I don't know."
"Rose, it's fine," Harry reassured. "It would be weird of you not to ask. But the lady's just crazed, who knows what the hell she's talking about."
"Yeah," I agreed, nodding. But I couldn't get past that look his eyes held moments ago.
"Come on," Harry said and cracked a dazzling smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He rested his hands on my shoulders from behind me, lightly squeezing them to ease some of the tension there. I was lead back toward the two easels we had been working at and my worries began to fade at his comforting touch.
"I need your help with this," Harry said, referring to his painting. My eyes scanned over the canvas. There were deep blues dancing across the bottom and a lighter blue near the top. And of course, random black streaks from minutes earlier when I had teasingly swiped my brush across his work.
"What is it?" I asked. His mouth fell agape, appalled by my question.
"It's a sunset on the ocean. Look, the top there is the sky and the bottom is the sea."
"Yeah, you definitely need my help," I agreed, trying to suppress a smile. The painting was horrid.
He gasped in mock hurt. "So critical," he said, slowly shaking his head, drawing another laugh from me. And we continued to not really work on the painting, Harry's banter continuing as we talked and laugh like earlier. Under the enchantment that was the crinkle of his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks, I fell right back into my desperate love for him. But underlying our laughter and teasing, the unnamed patient's words continued to pick at the back of my mind.
The painting session had been adjourned, and the walk back to my cell was the most eventful one I've had in a while. First I had been thinking through what that ratty-haired woman had said. I knew that I was over-analyzing it, something I tended to do often, and that I should just trust Harry. But my mind would not drift anywhere else, no matter how hard I tried. It was stuck on possible and impossible explanations. And in my many thoughts I had come to many conclusions. The first was that Harry was lying. Maybe someone that wasn't me, someone that didn't know him as well, might've let the signals slip by. But I took note of that quick glance Harry took at the girl, at the way he had wavered slightly when I asked him about it, and at the way the woman seemed undeniably and whole-heartedly afraid. The second was that there were many parts to the complexity that was Harry. He came off as dangerous and intimidating at first. And just because I loved him and he loved me did not make that go away. He used it as a disguise of sorts, but underneath, I believed that he was a good person. Sure he didn't have a good past, and he had done some bad things. Maybe one of those things had been executed here when he was a boy. Maybe it had developed the patient's fear. But he had also saved me from Norman, from James, from Ms. Hellman, and from myself more times than I could count. I had seen him in more than a couple of gallant, selfless acts. So no matter what he did or didn't do, I would still love him. I just had to let the past remain in the past and trust Harry. And I was convinced that I would find out when he did to that woman eventually, and when I did, I would love him all the same.
After I had come to those realizations another event took place. Thomas, one of the very few employees who had yet to see me in this patient's uniform and all of its glory, could be seen at the end of the hall. He was making his way past me and my guard who's name I still did not know. He walked with his eyes on the floor. He had no idea what I knew about him and how he had led Jane to death merely hours ago.
But suddenly, only a few yards away, he looked up. I had spoken to him all but once and when I did it had been about the same thing; leading patients to have tests run on them and then be discarded like lab rats. He looked startled at first, to see me as a patient rather than an annoying, pesky nurse. His eyebrows came together and he looked troubled by this fact. Maybe he, like Lori and Kelsey and a few others, felt that it was wrong. Maybe he knew I didn't belong here, either. It was obvious that I was not insane, and people were starting to notice.
I looked at him back, searching his countenance for answers. I only had to speak one word as he passed, and he knew what I was referring too. "Jane?" I wondered. If anyone knew her fate, it was him.
He didn't meet my eyes. But the small, solemn nod of his head gave me all the confirmation I needed.
HARRY'S POV
I had entered that room happy, content with the smell of paint and Rose's smile entering my mind. And I left feeling immensely uneasy. Although Rose had smiled and laughed along with me after she spoke to Alice, I could sense her apprehensiveness. She had tried to hide it but I still knew it was there. Alice told her something back there, something to put her on edge, and I had a pretty good idea of what. I could only hope that neither of the women would bring it up again.
And I took that hope with me when I kissed Rose goodbye and left the room. I needed a cigarette, but instead of my cell I was led to Kelsey's for another unproductive therapy session. She had already reminded me that there was "no smoking" in the room, although we were allowed to smoke in every other goddamned room in the building. Which didn't provide as the best circumstances seeing as I smoked when I was stressed, and the previous minute's events had definitely been stressful.
But then I suddenly remembered. I should be excited to be entering Kelsey's office, cigarettes or no cigarettes. Because every time either Rose or I met with her, the closer we became to escape. So I entered the room- Brian was sure to handcuff me beforehand- with a slightly more optimistic outlook on this long forty-five minutes. But even so, my irritability was still present. Kelsey just bothered me, for a variety of reasons.
Brian shut the door and left the two of us to chat about feelings and bad thoughts and whatever bullshit she usually uses to examine the mental states of patients. But we would be discussing more unorthodox topics.
"Do you have the map?" I asked as I made my way over to the cushioned chair before her desk. There was no need for friendly greetings.
"Yeah, I do actually," she said. A large piece of paper was laid out on the desk between us. I scrutinized the ink across it, noticing labeled rooms and sections of the building. I was impressed.
"Thank you," I forced, taking it into my hands. I still wasn't her number one fan, but it was nice of her to do this for us.
"I had to dig through lots of papers to find that, I mean a lot, and I almost got caught so-"
"I said thank you, didn't I?" I muttered absentmindedly.
She didn't speak for a moment. But only for a moment. "Well if you're going to be like that, I guess I shouldn't tell you."
"Tell me what?" I asked, looking up from the map of the building.
She sighed deeply, probably at my attitude, but told me anyway. "When this place was built, World War II was just barely ending and there were all of these international conflicts. And it would've been rare, but just in case, this place has a few short underground tunnels to escape through. There are a lot of guards and officers and important people in this building, so if London was ever bombed for any reason, there are some escape routes."
I nodded as she spoke, taking an interest in what she said for what seemed like the first time. "Like, underground tunnels? Where are they?" I asked.
"There's the catch - the only entrance is in Ward C. You would have to go through there to escape."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Well I guess we're just going to have to deal with it. I'd rather take the risk than rot in my cell."
"Thats what I figured," Kelsey said. "I marked the entrance right there." She leaned over the desk a little to point a finger at the spot. "It's in a supply closet in the back, and they probably tried to cover it up so you'll have to look carefully. There's probably a latch or something that you have to lift to go under there."
"And we should just follow it and it will take us outside the building?"
"I think so. There's a little mark on the far left, and I think that's the exit."
I nodded, numerous plans already being conjured up as I glanced at her. It was only then that I noticed she hadn't met my eyes since I got here. Even now, pulling away from the desk she looked to the ceiling, the floor; anywhere but me.
"Now Rose and I just need a way to get out of our cells, find each other, get past the Ward C freaks, go through that tunnel, escape the hundreds of employees, and run away without getting caught." I said, mostly to myself. Sounds like fun.
"Yeah," Kelsey agreed. But her voice broke a little in a way that made me ask my next question.
"There's something wrong," I pointed out.
"What?" She asked.
"There's something you're not telling me."
"No there isn't," she denied weakly.
"Yes, there is," I argued.
"No, I swear -"
"Goddammit, just say it," I demanded. If it had anything to do with mine or Rose's escape, I needed to be aware of it.
"Okay," she said. "But before I say it, just remember; there's plenty of time to get out of here before it happens. I'll make sure you guys escape first, so you don't have to worry." Her tone was slightly frantic, as if she knew divulging the truth would make me explode and she were trying to cushion the blow.
And that was starting to worry me. "What is it?"
"It won't happen for months. Twelve, twenty-four, maybe even thirty weeks down the road. You'll both be long gone by then."
"Tell me," I demanded rather harshly. I was sick of this little game she was playing.
"Well, when I was looking for this map I found a file . . . a file of all the patients scheduled to go into surgery. They get tested for God knows what, and Ms. Hellman has it all planned."
I nodded, urging her to continue.
"And Rose . . . well, Rose is next on the list."
I stopped then and there. Everything in me stopped. My lungs didn't expand the way they should. I didn't take a breath and my heard slowed. The room was silent. The only thing working properly was my mind, and it ran wild with all of the fears and doubts and dread I had ever felt.
If we didn't escape soon, my beautiful Rose would join Cynthia and Jane and be forgotten, put to death by the warden.
And with that realization I felt the whole world shatter beneath my feet.