damned_institute | Day 61: Doctor's Office 5 (Dr. Venkman) [Second Shift]

Venkman felt like he was forgetting something.

Thankfully, he didn't care enough about what it was to let it bother him. Because for once, he was actually looking forward to work. The break had been okay for a while. Lot of loafing and drinking had gotten done. He had even managed to chat up a couple of girls here and there, phone numbers stashed safely in his jacket pocket. But that said, Doyleton was no New York. Venkman couldn't exactly have a night out on the town out there. And when neither of the girls called him back, boredom had started to sink in pretty quick, and sink in hard.

There were only so many times he could wander the same circuits through downtown Nowheresville, and so he'd stayed in after the first few nights. A couple times (during the particularly dire hours of TV) he got close to phoning Ray or Egon. Heck, even Dana crossed his mind once or twice. In the end, though, he decided against it. The old gang hadn't really talked in how long now? He wasn't about to break the radio silence now. And he was betting any attempt at phoning Dana would result in him saying "Hi" and her hanging up. Not exactly the greatest communication going on there.

At least working with the patients, a serious pain though that could be, would be something different. Hunk was up first, too. That was bound to make easing into the day go a little better. Venkman was already working through Oz quips in his head as he strolled into his office. Thank god for patients with quotable delusions, he thought, settling into the comfy chair behind his desk.

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In a brighter mood than expected after his conversation with Kibitoshin, the Scarecrow had hoped to be taken to the Recreational Field, as he found he enjoyed his time in the outdoors much more than those hours spent in the building. The nurses would probably request he not take off his shoes, but there were times he just couldn't help it, the odd sensations he got from his feet holding a magical quality over him. Though he'd been at the Institute for several weeks, there were still so many feelings he had yet to experience. Some were good, and some were bad, but all were ones he wanted to have for himself.

Instead, he found himself pulled to the side and escorted down the main corridor toward the doctor's offices. He supposed that meant it was time for another session with Dr. Venkman. He was correct- the nurse stopped just outside his office, encouraging him to go in.

The Scarecrow obliged, the door closing behind him. He gave the good doctor a nod. "Good day to you, Dr. Venkman," he said politely. "I do hope you're having an easier time with things now that they're back to normal."

"Aaaannnd a very merry old morning to you," said Venkman after Hunk's greeting, letting the first word extend with him as he gave his chair a lazy celebratory swivel.

His elbows came to rest on the desk, hands folded casually over each other, and then he shrugged at his patient's next words. "I for one have given up on following the yellow brick road to normality with this place. Returns are better when you don't expect so much," he commented, keeping his tone blasé.

"Doesn't mean you get off the hook so easy, though, so don't go thinkin' ding dong therapy's dead on me now," he continued after a moment, picking up and shaking a pen loosely in Hunk's direction. "'Cause I believe there's still some normal left for you somewhere, buddy — maybe somewhere over the rainbow. Who knows?" he said, punctuating the word "rainbow" with a quick arc of the pen in front of him.

"So they sent you off to see the doctor." Venkman shrugged, looking for a reaction from Hunk. "What do you want to talk about today?"

The Scarecrow listened to the doctor's various comments as he found his way to his seat, getting the distinct feeling there was something in Venkman's tone he was missing. While his words weren't unkind, their sarcastic quality didn't go completely unnoticed.

"I've got to admit that I'm not sure what you mean," the Scarecrow admitted, caution in his tone. "You're usually the one asking me questions, not the other way around."

Oo, tough crowd.

Though, Venkman did find it interesting that Hunk didn't even flinch, didn't show one iota of recognition on the quotes. That told him that Hunk's delusion was stronger than ever, as opposed to their previous session where Hunk had openly acknowledged the movie's existence. From that, Venkman could guess that either he was seeing the (rotten) fruits of regression here, or Hunk had merely been playing along last time with what he thought his doctor wanted to hear. And based on what Venkman knew about deception and human nature, even in well-meaning people, he was willing to bet on the latter.

"Sure you don't want to talk about anything in particular?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Scarecrow in a "c'mooon" sort of way. "It's been a week. Stuff must've happened. Didn't you say you were talking to a friend about something important last time we talked? He didn't tell you anything new?" Venkman asked, alluding to the friend Hunk had mentioned last time who had seen The Wizard of Oz and been telling Hunk about it.

Let's see if that jogs your brain a bit there, Mr. Scarecrow.

"I suppose we were," the Scarecrow said with a nod, "but I don't think it really matters too much now, now does it? It has been a whole week, after all. And I've had a lot of talking to do since then, especially with the military being here and now being gone and all."

And that was the truth- with every week that passed, the former strawman's mind had more and more to worry about, and he wasn't sure if it could handle so much when it was in a broken state. While he was fortunate the clever little thing didn't act up as much as it used to— and he assumed that was because he'd figured out how it worked, and therefore had some degree of control over it— that didn't mean his brain was in the same working order.

Oh, if only he could make it work when he needed it, too! Then he might be able to determine what had happened to his vanished friends and what could be done about them. If they were out there, beyond the walls of Landel's, they would need help to remember who they were. Not only would he be able to do that, but he could figure out what was to be done about Hunk Howard and his body, he thought. He couldn't just stay someone else forever, especially if he was just borrowing their form.

Oh great, now the army was moving in on Oz. Just what Hunk's imaginary world needed: more immigrants.

"Guessin' you mean the inspection guys, right?" he asked to clarify. As far as Venkman remembered, the inspectors from the week before had been organized with military-like efficiency (the result of some HR department with delusions of grandeur, no doubt), but mistaking them for actual soldiers was pushing it. Who made a mistake like that? Crazy people, that was who.

In any case, Venkman waved the pen dismissively, moving on. He wasn't in the mood to drag out every little point, especially not when he could be getting to the part of the session where Hunk did more of the talking. "Yeah, I thought so," he said before Hunk could get a word in about the inspectors. "So what kind of talking have you been doing this week?" he asked, shrugging. "The way you said that, sounds like you've been as busy as a munchkin in witch-crushing season."

He hadn't been able to resist one more.

Inspection guys? The Scarecrow blinked, starting to piece together a clearer picture. Dr. Venkman had known they were military at their last meeting, so for him to change his opinion of them to the point of brushing them off as something they weren't was puzzling. It did lead him to one conclusion, though- Wizard Landel must have gotten to the doctor, as well.

He wanted to protest a bit more, to try and jog Dr. Venkman's memory, but found himself cut off before he could get a word in. Not only that, but he was clearly being teased, none of his concerns taken seriously. A part of him understood that it wasn't the doctor's fault, especially if he was bewitched; however, in light of the overall week he'd had— the military, the mission, his friends disappearing left and right, and his general feeling of being unable to do a thing about that— he wasn't feeling so lighthearted.

"Now see here," he came back harshly. "I thought I could trust you, but if you're going to do nothing but tease me like that, then I'm not talking! This week has been just awful, and I don't need you going and making it worse, you hear?"

Okay, maybe that had been a bit too far. Much as Venkman was feeling back to his usual snide self today, Hunk was still one of his better patients, and hearing him actually get worked up about the barbs felt worse than expected. Venkman's heart grew a half-size that day, if only for a short while.

"You're right, I apologize," he answered, raising up both hands briefly. "This hasn't been a great week for either of us, so we probably shouldn't be blowing steam at each other."

Venkman shifted in his chair, settling into a slightly more professional-looking slouch. "Let's try this again maybe: what about this week's been awful?"

Day 61: Doctor's Office 5 (Dr. Venkman) [Second Shift]

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So sorry for the long-ass wait. T_T