ext_358815 (
damned-doctors.livejournal.com) wrote in
damned_institute2008-07-04 02:27 am
Entry tags:
Day 33: Doctor's Office 2 (Dr. House) [4th Shift]
House's last session had ended (once again) before he'd been able to pick up any information from his patient's possible anecdotes rather than his mannerisms and ridiculous ears. Not that what patients had to say was particularly useful anyway unless they were on the verge of death and likely to tell the truth about having eaten Scandinavian mushrooms or something, but given the weird consistency in the symptoms of delusional misidentification syndrome here, he was starting to think there was something missing from the files that would explain all of this.
Something fishy was going on, that was for sure. House seriously doubted that the nighttime here erupted into a mix of Jurassic Park and Hellraiser, but he was starting to believe that maybe Cuddy hadn't made the best choice in a business partner. Maybe Landel used the place to test new hallucinogenic designer drugs or maybe he was cutting costs with the really bad taco meat. Either way, the situation as a whole posed way more of a potential puzzle to House's mind than spending an hour reassuring Mary Jo Jane that she wasn't some doomed space goddess.
He'd have to talk to Wilson about this, and even if Wilson told him he was crazy and paranoid (which he would), it just meant House would get to gloat more when he proved himself right.
[ Yagami Light and Nathan Petrelli. ]
Something fishy was going on, that was for sure. House seriously doubted that the nighttime here erupted into a mix of Jurassic Park and Hellraiser, but he was starting to believe that maybe Cuddy hadn't made the best choice in a business partner. Maybe Landel used the place to test new hallucinogenic designer drugs or maybe he was cutting costs with the really bad taco meat. Either way, the situation as a whole posed way more of a potential puzzle to House's mind than spending an hour reassuring Mary Jo Jane that she wasn't some doomed space goddess.
He'd have to talk to Wilson about this, and even if Wilson told him he was crazy and paranoid (which he would), it just meant House would get to gloat more when he proved himself right.
[ Yagami Light and Nathan Petrelli. ]

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At least that was what he told himself as he was led to the man's office, accompanied as always by his nurse. She seemed to be about as unenthusiastic about the trip as he was trying not to be, which was anything but reassuring, but once they finally arrived, she was back to her usual professional self. "Doctor House? Mr. Lawley is here to see you."
Light opened his mouth to utter a greeting after that, but the nurse's rather abrupt exit made him close it again almost immediately. ... Well. "Good afternoon, Doctor," he said politely, focusing on House again and going to take what he assumed to be "his" seat across from the man. "Was there any particular place you wanted to start, or should I simply say whatever comes to mind?" He was betting on the former, but it couldn't hurt to ask.
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"Hey, kid," he said, glancing back at his screen, "you're the kind of guy who listens to people, right? The kind who wants to be in good graces with great ol' Mr. Authority? If you are, just--"
He paused suddenly. Good graces with authority... was exactly what House didn't try to get. So why hadn't he just gone after the patients the old fashioned way as soon as his suspicions had been aroused? A couple of brawny guys shouldn't have been intimidating him from anything, let alone asking a poor straitjacketed bastard a couple of offhand questions about the way things smelled or if they were taking a certain kind of pill. This wasn't the way he was supposed to act, so how the hell had it taken him this long to realize it?
His head snapped towards the kid.
"Tell me everything you know about this hospital." He turned away from the computer and began rummaging through his drawers. "I don't care how crazy it sounds; just do it."
Not that this kid wasn't crazy, but the illness' persistence probably wasn't his fault.
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At the same time, however, he'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to have missed what the patients were saying went on in the institute, regardless of whether or not he was a victim of this particular "delusion," so simply reporting what he'd seen and heard couldn't incriminate him that much. He didn't know what was in his patient file, but if his "real" life was even remotely close to the truth, they'd have to know that making astute observations and piecing things together was something he excelled at. Failing to do so, therefore, would be even more incriminating than pretending he didn't know what House was talking about.
Decision made, he furrowed his brow as if slightly confused and said, "About the hospital? Well, it's a psychiatric institution run by Doctor Landel. The majority of the patients here seem to share the same basic symptoms, if with very distinct variations. Everyone believes, to a greater or lesser extent, that they are from a different world or universe than this one. These worlds typically align themselves with what we perceive as fiction, even among the patients, but the degree of complexity behind these delusions has rendered the patients incapable of perceiving this reality as the one they are from. Because of this, they, or rather we, have been institutionalized."
He paused, giving House a considering look. "I'm sure you already knew this, however, as well as the fact that these delusions have gained an additional layer which is closely linked with the institute itself. It's popularly believed that at night, monsters emerge and roam the halls, attacking any patients that seek to escape their so-called 'prison.' It's also believed that on alternating nights, a select group of patients are either taken in for experimentation-- performed by the institute staff, of course-- or brainwashed and set against the others in an effort to keep them in line and under the institute's control.
"Naturally, the patients have been using the experiences from their lives in their fantasy worlds to aid them against these monsters as well as banded together to form groups that work towards a common goal: escape. From what I've observed, none of these groups have been successful so far, but that probably goes without saying. The only patients which have gotten out of here are those which either disappear completely or reappear as visitors. I've also heard that patients have died during the night, but whether this is true or simply another rumor is something I've yet to uncover for myself."
He seemed to catch himself, then gave his doctor a small, wry smile. "Not that it's my job, of course. I'm supposed to be focusing on getting better, not trying to uncover what's going on here, if anything is at all. That falls under your jurisdiction, right?"
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He rolled his eyes and looked up from his rummaging, staring the kid in the eye.
"Listen," he said, his voice quick and caustic, "I'm not in the mood to deal with Eddie Haskell, so why don't you stop the brown-nosing and tell me whether or not you guys are all crazy or just really, really exaggerating."
His hand found the object he was looking for and he pulled it out: his cell phone. He opened it and scrolled down the contacts list, pushing "SEND" on the name "Cuddleboobs."
"...Right after this call," he added in a mutter, putting the phone to his ear.
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"All right," he replied aloud, watching his doctor with mild interest for a few moments before turning his attention elsewhere. He wasn't especially pleased by the fact that the rest of his session was being delayed by what was all too likely an unnecessary personal phone call, but based on what he'd seen of House's personality so far, there wasn't really anything he could do about it.
no subject
House drummed his fingers on the top of his desk as the phone rang two, three... five times. A clearly sexually frustrated voicemail came on with "This is Lisa Cuddy; leave a message," and to it, House responded:
"Hey, economics lesson: outsourcing only works when you aren't doing it with relatively rich white people. Call me."
He pulled the phone away from his ear and was about to press "END" when a thought occurred to him and he pulled it back to his face.
"Oh, and literary lesson too: don't send your employees to Doctor Moreau's."
He flipped the thing closed and shoved it in his pocket, about to grab his cane and move towards the door when he saw the kid and remembered that, yeah, the ass-kisser might be able to tell him a couple of things. He stared him in the eye.
"...So?" He asked as if it was the patient who'd kept him waiting for an answer.
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Light bit back a smile at the message House left, still politely pretending he couldn't hear the one-sided conversation even though it was taking place a few feet away from him. His doctor was more than a little rude with a sense of humor to match, but Light couldn't deny that the latter at least was occasionally amusing.
He glanced up once he was finally addressed, one eyebrow raised slightly at the man's tone. Hm. Was it even worth it to lie at this point? He still had his suspicions about House's motives, but if he was being sincere, Light could potentially gain-- no, there wasn't enough evidence to suggest that having a daytime ally would actually do anything, at least not when it was one of the doctors. The nurses and orderlies seemed to have more power than, at least from Light had seen. Considering the fact that up until now he hadn't seen any reason to devote too much time into researching the subject, however, he could be wrong-- but wouldn't he have seen or heard something about it beforehand if that had been the case?
But maybe he was thinking about this the wrong way. What would pretending to believe the institute's lies get him, when it all came down to it? Would they let him out? No. The Landel's at night would see through his act in an instance even if the Landel's during the day wouldn't, and Light sincerely doubted the Head Doctor would be stupid enough in either case to let him get away scot-free. Pretending to be sane, therefore, would at most increase the amount of favor the institute staff showed him during the day while behaving normally would only mean that he'd have to proceed as he had been and win favor through other means, good behavior being the most likely. Additionally, even if it did turn out that he'd been wrong in his decision to tell House the truth later, he could always feign "improvement" through subsequent sessions, thereby eliminating, if gradually, whatever possible side effects that may have arisen.
The downside of this was, of course, that while the daytime staff would be fooled, the nighttime staff wouldn't. If House were in league with the Head Doctor or the Head Doctor through other means caught wind of what had been said here, Light's prospects seemed grim-- less so if the former were true than the latter, though, and not at all when he brought into consideration the fact that based on what House had said to him so far, most if not all of his patients had been saying the same thing all along.
If telling House the truth at this specific point in time actually did put the Head Doctor's position at risk, however, that would both put Light in the most danger and mean that not telling House would be a missed and potentially vital opportunity to aid his eventual escape. The possibility also existed that House rather than Light would be the one in danger, but that only made the prospect more tempting. House had done nothing to deserve it, of course, but that didn't mean he was excluded as a potential sacrifice to the cause.
The more Light thought about it, the more sense it seemed to make. Both the best and worse case scenarios hinged on what sort of impact answering House's question would make, and while this ranged from none at all to helping Light escape to getting him killed, he was willing to bet that even with the range of possibilities there was, telling House was better than not doing so when the only thing that could happen then was more of the same. It was a gamble, but when most of the potential losses were ones he could easily deal with, it was one he was willing to take.
"Neither," he replied simply, meeting House's gaze levelly. "I won't deny that some of the patients here are certifiably insane, but when it comes to the other stories you've heard, they're all true. You're free to condemn me as you see fit for saying so, especially in light of my earlier explanation, but it seems the truth is what you're after, I see no point in denying you it." He paused, allowing the words to sink in for a moment. "Did you have any other questions?"
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"Right, some of them are certifiably insane but you're as well-adjusted as Mr. Rogers." House rolled his eyes, though despite his ridicule, he realized that getting Haskell over here to rat out himself and his buddies was a step in the right direction and posed a puzzle to boot. All of these people were interpreting something in the same way, and the trends were similar enough that House could probably figure out what kind of scandal Landel was running around here through if he got enough of the wacky details. It was a hell of a lot more interesting than figuring out who was cheating on who anyway.
"They give you any pills and injections off the record?" he asked, thinking back on what other wackos had said about being medicated against their will. "And if you like the acid trips, too bad; I'm gonna be confiscating them for... security reasons."