damned_institute | Doctor's Office 4; Stegman

Yohji was a little surprised to be led away from the other people by one of the nurses, and taken to a horribly familiar corridor. He balked at the sight of it, a shiver running down his spine as though he could feel that creature still haunting the place.

Doctor appointment. He'd expected it yesterday. And he hadn't been paying much attention anyway. The nurse knocked on the door and then ushered Yohji inside. "Mr. Itou to see you, doctor," she said before retreating and leaving Yohji there.

He nodded in greeting, standing awkwardly near the door and wondering how the hell to handle things. It was different now that he knew this place was wrong, but he still knew that he belonged somewhere like this. "Afternoon."

"Mr. Itou, please sit down," Stegman said. "And how are we feeling today?" The doctor seemed to be in a pleasant mood. Maybe it was the end of the day drawing near, maybe it was the patient. It was difficult to tell.

Yohji smiled weakly and went to sit down on the couch, a little more stiffly than his usual sprawl. He didn't want to seem rude after all, and he did have some manners, no matter how much he scorned a lot of traditionsal Japanese behaviour.

"Uh... I've had better days, but I'll live," he replied wryly. He'd also had far far worse days and worse nights. He just needed to keep things in perspective.

"Well, I suppose you can't have very good days in a place like this," Stegman said, chuckling some. "But hopefully we can improve things for you, hmm? Have you been settling in well?"

Yohji gave a slightly strained laugh at that and nodded, relaxing into his seat slightly. Yeah. How could you have a good day here? Not getting injured was about all you could hope for, and that was something Yohji had become used to over the years.

If he played along, then things would be fine. Maybe he'd even gget better. It couldn't be so bad, right?

"As well as I can, I guess. A little less action than I'm used to, but I suppose that's the point." Mind numbing tedium and he knew it was probably a tactic to make him give in. Dull the wits and you're more likely to slip up.

"A change of pace can be a very good thing." Stegman leaned back in his char. "I know life is rather slow here - oh, I know! I'm from a very large city, myself. I'm used to fast cars, fast food, fast everything. It can take some time to shift to something like this. But it is for your benefit. Now, have you been having any health problems? Blackouts, dizziness, anything like that?"

Yohji nodded in agreement. He'd always lived in big cities, so getting used to not having things he took for granted was a bit of a task. Hell, his time at Koua had been bad anough with only a small town to back it up. Although the less said about that the better. He just hoped smeone was taking care of his Super7.

He frowned consideringly at the question. He wasn't entirely sure if last night counted, but there had been a couple of things. "Not blackouts or anything. Flashbacks, I guess. Moments when I get panicky for no reason."

"Panic attacks?" Stegman's eyebrows raised. "Can you give me an example of when you have these? Maybe we can narrow down some sort of common factor - it's rare to suffer anxiety attacks without any reason."

Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. Wasn't exactly the kind of thing he could talk about openly with a relative stranger, but he couldn't really talk to Weiss about it either. No, he needed to get better. Needed to heal and this was the best way. "Sometimes people say things that bring up bad memories," he said awkwardly. "I had a pretty bad time a few years ago and any reminders of what I used to do would set it off. They never stopped totally but they haven't been this frequent for a while." Not that he'd even really recovered from thos two years of hell.

"I see. Would you consider these to be flashbacks?" Stegman asked, his tone concerned as he added this information to his patient's chart.

He shrugged, not entirely sure how to describe them. "Maybe... it's like I can't focus on the present for those few moments. Everything gets blurry and distant." And in the worst instances there were hallucinations but he'd made his peace with Asuka, hadn't he? Maybe she'd stop showing up now. Didn't account for any of the other times though.

"I promise I'll be good!"

As they headed for the doctor's office, Bast tried to reassure his nurse. He happily bounced at her side as they walked, asking a million questions about his doctor. He'd never had a doctor before. A Healer, yes, but never a doctor. The doctor-person wasn't going to eat him or something, was he? Reassured that the doctor wasn't a bad person, Bast was now very excited to meet a real 'doctor'.

Waving happily to his nurse with one last promise to be good and asking for cookies, Bast headed into the doctor's office. He stood there at the door, timid for the first time as he peered around the room. Seeing the man, Bast twisted his fingers together nervously.

"I'm looking for the terribly smart Doctor Stegman, Sir? The nice nurse said he was the only man who could help me. He's supposed to be the world's best, and I was told to be very good for him, and I might get a cookie. Have you seen him?"

Whether or not Bast had guessed this man was his doctor was up to the observer. Maybe he was trying to get in good with the man. Maybe he just wanted to see how he reacted to flattery. Who knew with Bast?

Stegman glanced up, a small and amused smile on his lips.

"You must be Mr. King," he said. "I'm Dr. Stegman. Please, take a seat and we ca begin." Well, wasn't this something of a change. Fancy that. Stegman pulled out the man's file and skimmed his eyes over it.

Oh. Well now.

"My name is Rabastan Lestrange, but the nurses like to call me Stephen King. It's not a bad name so far as names go. It could be worse. They could be calling me 'Harry Potter'. You can call me whatever makes you happiest."

Bast smile grew some as Stegman introduced himself, the very model of a starstruck fanboy right down to the widened eyes and little gasp. As soon as Stegman pointed to a chair, he quickly settled himself in it. Hands folded together on his lap, Bast even made an effort not to swing his legs for once. His radio was patted gently before he tucked it into the crook of his elbow.

"You're awfully distinguished to be in a place like this, Doctor Stegman Sir. I can't believe you took time out to see me! Is it true you saved that man's life?"

From what Bast could gather, since a doctor wasn't something that ate people, it had to be like the nurses or the Head Doctor. Then again, the Head Doctor came on the intercom before the monsters were supposedly let out. Bast was beginning to doubt that. Anyways, that meant that this Doctor Stegman had to be like the Head Doctor, only not trapped in the little box like Jack and the Head Doctor. Maybe he really was a little smarter than they were. Either way, doctors saved lives according to the Head Doctor and Jack's sniping back and forth. What Bast had managed to understand of that was that people died or they died or someone had. Darned if he knew or cared really. All he wanted was Stegman happy so that he could get sweets... or to use Stegman for his own purposes.

"Your name is Stephen King," Stegman said, gently. Oh, this was going to be a difficult one. "But you'll remember that eventually. I've saved very many lives," he went on, inwardly preening some. He was a pompous man, and ego-stroking was something he couldn't get enough of.

"But I don't practice that sort of medicine here. Here we heal the mind, not the body. Now, why don't you tell me the last thing you can remember."

"Are you sure? I could have sworn it was Rabastan Lestrange. Rather embarrassing that I've been going around all this time calling myself that then. I don't feel much like a 'Stephen', but if you say so."

Bast nodding in agreement with the doctor as he drew his legs up, sitting comfortably in the chair now. He disliked chairs on the whole. Too creepy and enclosing, but the doctor had said to sit there so sit he did.

"You must be quite the hero, Doctor Stegman Sir!" Bast said with a bit of awe in his voice. "My nurse said you were the very best, and she's never wrong, especially when it comes to chocolate and the like. She even forgave me for running away that day to save Jack. I think."

A bit of puzzlement came to his face as he tried to remember the last thing before waking up here. "I was in Azkaban. It's a wizarding prison where they put me. They said I was supposed to stay there for life, but then I woke up here, and I like it much better here. There's lots of people around, and I have a magic box to talk to Jack and the Head Doctor," he said proudly, lifting up his radio for Doctor Stegman to see before tucking it back against his side. "Is my life saved now?"

"Ah, no, you're life isn't in danger," Stegman said. "No, you're suffering from an ailment of the mind. Now, it's the quality of your life we're concerned with."

Mr. King was a bit more...advanced in his delusions than most of Stegman's other patients. A challenge, clearly. Was there any note of any development issues?

"Well, that's a very nice magic box. Who are these people you talk to?"

"An ailment of the mind?"

Bast seemed properly mystified and interested in such a thing, carelessly shoving his white hair back from his face to study his radio while he did. An ailment of the mind sounded like a grand adventure to him instead of something terrible.

"You're very smart and a hero, Doctor Stegman! You'll help me, won't you?"

Looking properly pitiful as only a starved and bone-thin man could, Bast twined his fingers together like a child begging a parent for a sweet. "Please? I'm just not smart enough, but you are!"

Eyeing his radio again, Bast grinned happily, giving it a hug.

"I talk to Head Doctor Martin Landel himself sometimes. He's like you, very smart and caring about all of us poor lost people. No one seems to appreciate him really though. I do. I know he's trying to help us. I talk to Jack too, although his name is Alec Doyle too, but he prefers Jack. I think he was the Head Doctor's partner at one time or something, but they had a falling out over a woman if I understand rightly. Jack is the one who talks on the radio at night to everyone else although he talks to me all the time along with the Head Doctor. I don't know about Jack though..."

Rabastan looked troubled as he turned his radio over in his hands, lower lip trembling a little as if he were about to burst into tears.

"Jack has been awfully bad, Doctor Stegman! He upsets the Head Doctor something terrible, and I don't know what to do. What if he makes Head Doctor Landel really, really mad? Or if the Head Doctor catches him? What if Jack is really sick and needs the Head Doctor's help? I mean, the Head Doctor is almost as smart as you, right? He would know what's best for Jack, wouldn't he?"

"I see."

Stegman made a few notes on King's chart. This was certainly an interesting case. Clearly there was some form of dependance on authority here - or perhaps delusions of grandeur. Delusions of Dr. Landel speaking directly to him, his obvious fawning over someone in a position of power.... Well, it made sense. And the comment about a woman... ah, yes.

But then there was this...well, imaginary friend was all Stegman could think to classify it. Not that it was unheard of in adults, of course. And looking at King's chart, a few peices were beginning to fall into place.

"Calm down, Stephen. Everything's going to be perfectly fine. Tell me about this... 'Jack'. What do you two talk about?"

Bast seemed reassured by Stegman's order, the glassy sheen of tears in his eyes armed away quickly. The radio was quickly returned to its usual protected place against his side.

"Jack sometimes tells me where the Dementors are, or he used to. He doesn't talk to me as much as he used to. Maybe he's mad because I didn't save him that day, that he had to get out of it all by himself."

He nibbled at his lower lip worriedly, hand sneaking back to his radio to turn it restlessly between his hands again.

"He could be mad because I want to stay here instead of go back to my time or to Azkaban. I don't know. He just doesn't talk to me as much anymore. What do you think, Doctor? Could he be upset?"

"So this Jack...helps you and tries to protect you?" Stegman prompted, leaning forward and watching his patient carefully.

"Well, perhaps Jack feels you may not need as much help now that you're here and being treated. Stephen, I'd like to talk about something briefly, if we may. If you aren't comfortable, just tell me. But I'd like to talk about your family."

Rabastan didn't seem bothered in the least by the intense scrutiny from Doctor Stegman. To all appearances, the little man had no sense of boundries or proper ways of reacting to situations such as someone staring at them or studying them like a bug. If anything, he lifted his head more to meet the doctor's gaze head on.

"Jack does, yes. He told me about the dustbunnies."

Bast nodded wisely there only to have a look of surprise cross his face at being questioned on his family. Bast squirmed a little in his seat, hugging his radio tighter, struggling to make himself met Stegman's eyes this time.

""My... my family? Umm. I have Rodolphus and Bellatrix. He's my brother, and she's my sister-in-law."

Bast squirmed a little in his seat, staring down at his radio again. He wasn't sure what the man wanted to know about his family, not sure how to proceed at this point.

"I understand you and your brother were very close," Stegman went on, casually. His pen continued to move across Stephen's file, taking copious notes as the man spoke.

"Well, yes, of course we were. Rodolphus is my brother."

Bast was starting to get a wee bit worried about the direction in which this questioning had gone. Ordinarily, he could talk up a blue storm about his brother, extolling his virtues to anyone who would sit and listen, but somewhere in the muddled mess of his mind, a warning light was going on.

"Dolph is very smart, Doctor Stegman, maybe smarter than you. He's not a great doctor or anything, but he is very famous and important to the Dark Lord. We stayed faithful all our time. Besides, Dolph has the best ideas on what to do and how to get it done whenever we need a plan."

That starry eyed look had come back some when he got to going on how great his brother was, not appearing to mind in the least that Stegman was writing anything down. Snapping out of it, he peered curiously at Stegman.

"Yes, Rodolphus and I are very close. He's my favourite brother!"

His only brother too, of course.

"And you look up to him very much, don't you?" That rather went without saying, but Stegman wanted to hear it from his patient.

Bast wriggled his nose as he tried to work out where Stegman was going with this. Nothing was coming to him.

"Of course I do, Doctor Stegman. He's my brother. Mother always said listen to Rodolphus and do whatever he said, so I do. I couldn't not do what Mother and Father told me to. It would be like not listening to the nurses. I'm not supposed to do that."

Tilting his head like a curious cat, Bast watched Stegman carefully. He'd figure out this man eventually. Oh yes.

"But sometimes people we're supposed to listen to will tell us to do things we shouldn't," Stegman went on, gently. He hadn't even had to ask the next question, Stephen had offered up the answer on his own.

"You remember that your brother is in jail, don't you?"

"Dolph is never wrong though, Doctor Stegman. Ever."

Bast lifted his thin shoulders in a careless shrug to that. Rodolphus might be occasionally slightly mistaken due to someone else's incompetence, but he was never wrong. Anyone else, Bast would have pounced on for even suggesting such and been handing them their own eyeball off the tip of one fingernail. Either he was smart enough to figure out attacking doctor=no cookies/locked in room or he wanted to see first what Steggie was up to. However, that line was growing thin even if Stegman might have been completely unaware of how close he was coming to seeing Bast's ugly side.

The mention of jail brought a sharp wariness to Bast's normally cloudy expression, a passing of a vicious brand of intelligence that was there and gone. Bast grinned cheerfully at Stegman, giving his radio a reassuring pat.

"Rodolphus won't be in Azkaban for long. If I got out, he'll get out quick enough! He's the smart one out of us. Everyone says so."

Doctor's Office 4; Stegman

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