Day 47: Doctor's Office 8 [Dr. Disraeli]

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

There had been no delay this morning for Dr. Disraeli when it came to arriving at work. In fact he had been early, if only to make up for the time he had missed the previous day. Not that many had seemed to care apart from the always gossiping nurses, which was odd. The nurses would say what they would, regardless of Jizabel's actions, however he'd had no reprimand from the head doctor for his tardiness. He had expected a warning at the very least, but he could guess that Landel was a busy man. He probably didn't have the time to bother with giving his doctors slaps on the wrist. A good thing to know.

He had just finished with reviewing his files, following a check of his once again replaced desk drawer, when the usual knock came at the door a bit earlier than usual. There seemed to be no end to the oddities this morning. When a nurse entered without a patient, Jizabel could only wonder what was so important that she needed to bother him when he was preparing. As a doctor though, he was understanding of the interruption and welcomed her without question. Apparently there was a problem with one of his first patients, an injury it seemed. Dr. Disreli could not see how he would need a warning with the state he'd seen some patients in, however the nurse was able to provide a decent enough reason for telling him. More than decent, he decided, once he saw the jar she held and the color of it's contents.

"I'll be sure to take care of things," he assured the woman, accepting both the jar and the documentation brought with it. The reasons she had for providing him such a thing must have been different from what Jizabel would likely do, however he would not be passing up an opportunity like this, or a specimen so well preserved. "If you'll give me a moment before allowing my first patient in...?" he then requested, with the nurse quickly agreeing that she would before leaving him.

The nurse gone, Jizabel found himself in a far better mood. Now wouldn't this be interesting?

Comments

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

Soubi was lead into the room, the nurse beating away every argument he could come up with. He wasn't afraid of being physically attacked by his doctor, he'd prefer that to having to discuss that wretched file. It hadn't been long since he thought he was Hiro. He still barely trusted himself near Ritsuka, especially with the mood he was in lately. And now he wasn't even allowed to bite his nails anymore. The order made sense, but it was difficult to follow. He was telling Ritsuka at lunch. The reason why he was acting this way. It was just so humiliating to realise he couldn't handle going without cigarettes, not even for a few days.

All this and now he had to go to therapy?

He lingered by the door, looking away.

"Why don't you have a break? There's nothing for us to discuss."

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

Although he had been hoping for the other of his patients to be led in first, Dr. Disraeli showed no signs of disappointment in seeing the new face. Mr. Cross indeed held his interest at the moment, but another blond man would be just as fine a specimen. Should he chose to join him in the room, that was.

"I am only here for less than half of the week. My break is sufficient enough, Mr. Matsuda," Dr. Disraeli explained, waving a hand towards the chair, "Won't you have a seat?" Looking beyond the door, he caught the nurse's attention and nodded that she close the door. She complied and left the two alone.

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

Soubi remained silent and leaned back against the wall. He wasn't answering to anything but his own name. Looking up, he saw the Doctor and couldn't help but feel reminded of Ritsu. Even himself a little.

Anyway, at least he didn't recognise the voice from the experiments. That would have destroyed him for certain.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

He was a stubborn one. Jizabel should have suspected as much from what he'd read in the file, however even the worst of his patients at least took their seat. Perhaps he had just been lucky that time.

"Or if you'd prefer to stand, then I suppose I should join you," the doctor eventually decided, seeing as the man did not wish to have a seat. Placing a hand to his desk, Dr. Disraeli pushed his chair out and rose but did not yet move to greet his patient at the door. "I can be accommodating, if you have preferences."

Or if he chose to just be silent, there were always other means of compliance.

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

Soubi remained silent. He wasn't worried, even if the doctor did choose to stand beside him, he simply wasn't speaking until the Doctor at least said his name. The one from the night of the experiments.... he'd honoured such a wish. And, dammit, he didn't want to think about that night. Or this place. Or Hiro. Or even his real past. He just had to waste time until he was sent out.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

"Do you have anything you want to speak on?" The doctor asked as he left his desk and approached his patient, "This being the first session, I would like to get to know you first - what interests you have, dislikes, perhaps if you have a preference for what you wish to be called."

There was, however, an extent to which the doctor would be accommodating though. Continued silence did not help his research, and Jizabel was not in a mood to have setbacks, even if he was sure to have excellent results from his next two patients.

"Ah, but I never did give my name, did I?" he realized suddenly and when close enough offered a hand and a smile, "I am Dr. Jizabel Disraeli. It's nice to meet you."

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

Soubi forced himself to remain still as the doctor approached, but didn't accept the offered hand. A part of him struggled to realised he was more afraid of talking than he was of the threats this place had posed before.

"I believe you'll find some of that information in your file," he said, tightly.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

"A patient file only provides so much," Dr. Disraeli pointed out, "And most of that is medical information. There is little in reference to the personality of patients. That is why I generally allow patients to choose their subject matter for our first session. It is hardly fair that I attempt to diagnose someone whom I know relatively little about."

Dr. Disraeli lowered his hand and turned away towards his bookshelves, "Do you enjoy reading?"

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

"I'm sure it at least gives you my real name." Last chance. If the doctor refused, Soubi wasn't saying another word. He'd offered Soubi the chance to tell him, but it was in the file, they all knew his real name and he expected them to use it if they wanted anything.

Watched the man move away and felt his body relax, he hadn't even realised he'd tensed so much. Still, this was better. The man wasn't so close and Soubi still had the door within reach.

He watch the doctor head for the bookshelf. Reading. He could take it or leave it. Most of the books he read were for class, or belonged to Kio. The only book he could think of that meant anything was the one in his room right now. And that was only because Ritsuka had picked it out.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

His name? Was that his concern here?

"I have you listed as Hiro Matsuda, if that is what you are asking for?" he provided, "But regardless of that, I will call you whatever you want me to. Ah, barring any obscenities, that is." Jizabel could not help but be reminded of his misunderstanding with one of yesterday's patients.

There had been no response to his question of literature, however Dr. Disraeli stayed near to the shelves, glancing through the books he had at eye level. "Some texts can be terribly dull, however there are some fascinating subjects to be found within," he continued, eyes catching on the book he was looking for.

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

If the doctor was going to be stubborn, so was Soubi. He kept his arm tightly folded and looked toward the otherside of the room, trying to locate a clock. Not that he really paid attention to the shifts or therapy time. The doctor was talking and Soubi couldn't care less.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

"Shall I take your silence to mean you want me to decide?" Dr. Disraeli questioned without turning back.

He knew well the silence was only a show of stubbornness, or else an attempt for the patient to keep control of what happened here. It was foolish really, when Dr. Disraeli allowed his patients moderate control of their first sessions. With this display, however, Dr. Disraeli could not be lenient. From the very beginning Mr. Matsuda had been difficult. By Jizabel's standards, that meant he could do whatever he wanted now.

His eyes trailed away from the bookshelf as he began rummaging in his pocket. "Regardless of whether or not you wish to speak, you and I will remain in this room for," he paused and withdrew the desired item, a pocket watch, from his jacket to check the time. A quick flip of the lid, and he continued, "the better part of the next hour." Once he was sure of the time, Dr. Disraeli turned both himself and the watch face back towards the patient. "We should at least attempt to get along in that time, otherwise things may remain quite awkward."

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

Soubi looked over at Disraeli and his watch for a brief second before lookinf away again. "I see no harm in sitting silently. Write what you want in your reports, make it up. It's already full of lies."

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

Breakfast had been difficult, to say the least. There was a cold feeling that remained in his stomach, though whether it was for lying to Sakura or for making her cry (or both maybe), he wasn't sure. It was something of a relief when his nurse showed up to help him along to the next shift, though rather than take him to the greenhouse like the others, she turned down the hall and waited for him to follow. The doctor again?

Last time he'd been able to prepare himself, to study his file and make himself ready, to show he was better and on the road to recovery. Ready to go home. But today he felt broken, unsure, and far too vulnerable to put himself in front of someone like Dr. Disraeli. In the end, he was too weak to put up a fight and followed after some urging and kind words from the nurse.

It felt like a long walk down the short hallway, but he reached the office and followed the nurse inside without fuss. The doctor was already waiting for him, so he took a few steps into the room, hoping he seemed compliant, but when the nurse left, it was hard not to feel nervous, even worried.

"Good morning doctor," he said with a slight smile on his lips.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

The first of the patients he was actually looking forward to unfortunately seemed to be in as bad a condition as he had been told. An even paler complexion that the last time, and where an eye should have been, a medical eye-patch. As Doctor Disraeli he could not let himself show any excitement for Mr. Cross's condition, but internally Jizabel was thinking over countless possibilities.

He had known expected there to be side-effects from the medicine and knew from the item he'd received that there had been, but to have it handed to him due to an accident was just too coincidental. Jizabel had to wonder if something was being kept from him. Maybe the patient had done it himself intentionally. That would have meant irritation, both to the area and the patient. Then there was the consideration of whether personality had been affected, or eating habits. There were just so many factors there could be and questions he wanted answered.

Yet none that he could ask the patient directly.

"Good morning, Mr. Cross," Dr. Disraeli greeted with what they both knew was a forced smile, "It seems a lot has happened since our last visit." He added, trying not to be too direct. Even a professional doctor was allowed to show concern when faced with such a change in his patient's health.

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

Though the doctor was smiling, there was something about it that felt artificial. As someone who'd faked smiles for years, he ought to know enough to tell. When he mentioned the obvious injuries, Yuuhi wasn't even sure where to start explaining. It didn't seem possible for such a thing to have happened, yet here he was in this same place. It was easier to believe he was crazy than the dead coming back to life.

"I've been better," he said with a smile of his own. He took a couple more steps into the room, one arm crossed over his chest to rub his upper arm in a slightly nervous gesture. What would be the institute's spin on things? Did they have an explanation?

"But I'm fine now. I hope that... we can get a lot done today," he tried, pushing once again that he did want to be well and did want to leave as soon as he could. There'd been outbursts this week, but he'd been careful to steer clear of them and even stayed away from the bulletin, afraid of how much the nurses monitored it or kept track of which patients used which names.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

Pleasantries would not change the facts, as they both seemed to realize, and Dr. Disraeli let his face fall into a more solemn expression. "I would say you have. It's not like you to get into fights, Mr. Cross..." he said, as though he had known the man for a while. What he knew he knew by word of mouth and the patient's file. Or else his additional experiments that held no weight to the surface of these sessions.

"I will have to ask... what has been happening to you in the last week. As your current state was only a recent occurrence." The missing eye, in particular, "Could you tell me if you were having any problems that may have led up to what happened? Even something small would help - if there was perhaps any change to your usual routine, or even if you started to dislike how some food tasted."

This was as much an experiment as it was a session. Dr. Disraeli and Jizabel both had things they wanted and needed to know. Careful wording could make those things one and the same.

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

A fight? Well, it was somewhat true, but try as he might, Yuuhi couldn't remember anything during his duel with Yue last night that could've caused his eye to be lost. The neck wound was familiar, but... unless Yue had some strange tradition he wasn't aware of... he couldn't see the guardian as being the one to have done it. Then again, he wouldn't have thought he'd ever see Yue as an opponent, but it'd happened. It had happened, hadn't it?

"I..." he started, but had no idea how to finish. If he didn't know the details of the supposed fight that had injured him so, the doctor would know he wasn't ready to go home. But at the same time, if he admitted fault in the fight, would the doctor also see that behavior as unacceptable?

"I'm sorry," he said after a slight pause. Still, Dr. Disraeli seemed willing to move the subject along without lecturing him on it, so did that mean it was alright?

"I'm not sure entirely," he said, being at least mostly honest.

"I think the medicine might've irritated my eye the first... few days. But after that I hardly noticed except maybe... for a few minutes after I took the medicine for the days following," Yuuhi reported, finally coming to stand near the center of the room. "I don't... remember exactly what happened Dr. Disraeli. I think I must have... blacked out or..."

He stopped for a moment, shaking his head, "I don't really know."

Yuuhi took another breath and tried to remember if there was anything else he should report, "things taste the same. I haven't been very hungry though I suppose." He tried to hold on to the smile at the corners of his mouth, but it was slowly fading the more he spoke.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

Jizabel wanted to keep notes on this, so he decided it would be fine if Dr. Disraeli made occasional notes himself. His patient would only see his therapist documenting what he was being told.

"There is no need to apologize. Just recall what you can." After all, losing an eye must have been traumatizing, to say the least. Jizabel had always imagined the pain he would cause Cain the moment he took those golden eyes for himself. It must have been excruciating.

Then there was the interest of his medicine. The color had obviously changed, as he had intended when wanting to test it on young Sean, however this was the first knowledge of the side-effects. Irritation, likely a distortion of sight, and a potential loss of appetite... Mr. Cross was certainly more compliant in his explanation than Sean would have been. If he could refine the medicine more, he could still continue using the blond as his test subject. Until he thought it ready for a proper trial, that was.

After Mr. Cross had stopped speaking, Dr. Disraeli tapped his pen on the top of his paper before setting it aside. "I think I might be able to help with jogging your memories," he said, reaching a hand to the desk's bottom drawer, "Although it might be painful for you to remember."

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

The doctor seemed to be understanding, but it was hard to be sure. He shifted the weight on his feet and tried not to look as tired as he felt. Doing what he could to get better, or at least... to make his doctor believe he was better, was the most important thing right now. If he didn't get to go home, he'd never be able to help Aaron.

"Yes," he nodded, hardly making eye-contact. "As... as I mentioned, I don't remember how it happened but... I think I must've woken up last night and... it came as quite a shock as you might imagine. It was difficult to get back to sleep afterward."

Hopefully that would be enough for the doctor as he wasn't sure what else to say that would even come close to what he might want. It was the truth, more or less, aside from the memory of waking up in the darkness on that cold metal table.

At the mention of anything that might help with his recovering, Yuuhi was quick to agree. He didn't want to seem overly eager, but in truth he was almost desperate. It didn't matter the means or even if there was a chance of pain. Whatever it might be, he'd do it if it meant getting closer to being home again. "I'll do whatever you think will help, Doctor. If it's even a chance of making me well again, I'll gladly do it."

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

So compliant. Jizabel loved having patients like him, easily misled and all too willing to try anything if it would just make things better. Had he been in a less controlled environment, Jizabel might have tried a few more experimental medicines on the man and perhaps some of his more temperamental poisons as well. However the best he could get away with here were disguised "antidepressants".

"Your memories are probably fuzzy from the trauma," he commented as he grasped the item he searched for. It was unusual that his own hobby would come into play here, but amusing nonetheless. "But since you've agreed, I hope this might help with the memory a bit." And with the, he pulled a glass jar into view and placed it before the both of them on his desk.

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

He'd hoped Dr. Disraeli meant to help him retrieve earlier memories, but if he really thought the recent trauma would help in the long run, Yuuhi didn't want to appear problematic. There were a number of things he might have expected, but for the doctor to pull out a jar with something floating in it was not on his list of guesses. He glanced cautiously from the doctor's face to the jar, but once he was close enough, it became obvious what was inside.

His eye widened and he took an involuntary step backward, looking at the doctor with a mixture of fear and confusion. Was he the one who'd taken it? Why did he have it? Just what had happened?

It was probably a good thing he hadn't eaten much at breakfast. The sight of his own eye in a jar staring back at him was enough to make him ill. He stumbled as he stepped back, that weak feeling returning and making it hard to continue to stand. He shook his head slowly, one hand over his mouth.

"...I don't understand," he said, though his voice sounded much quieter than before. What was the doctor trying to get him to remember by showing him this? What was the purpose? Was it supposed to shock a memory into him somehow?

But there was nothing. He didn't remember a fight or trouble with another patient. He only remembered waking up on that cold table in the middle of the night, feeling cold and numb and sore as if someone had jumpstarted his heart. "I'm sorry, I don't remember anything."

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

"It's all right, Mr. Cross," Dr Disraeli assured, noting the new found fear in his patient. He supposed anyone would be surprised to find what had once been their own eye staring back. It was rare to be able to see the response, however. "The nurses were worried over what had happened and provided me with this in hopes that it may help. At the moment there are no known ways to fix this kind of thing, however medical practices are always advancing. There may be a time that we can return what you have lost."

Jizabel had managed to exchange brains before, and successfully, so if he gave it a shot he had the feeling he could manage something as simple as an eye. But he could first need clearance from the head doctor and that would require losing a part of his cover. He was not about to lose that just yet.

"Because the event was traumatizing," the doctor continued, "having something tangible to bring back the memory has shown to work in a number of studies. Not all, however..." he added with a frown. Mr. Cross had been shaken, yes, but he still seemed not to remember. As the attempt had not worked, Dr. Disraeli would not torment the man with prolonged exposure and withdrew the jar. "We'll put this away for now. I do apologize that it did not help any."

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

The doctor offered little in the way of assistance, so it took him a moment to find the chair and collapse into it, hands folded in his lap to hide their shaking. Nothing was making sense. Was he really as mad as they'd been telling him? It was harder to tell with each passing moment. He could only nod, all pretenses of a smile gone now.

"It's alright," he assured the doctor, staring blankly at the floor and keeping his gaze far from where the jar on the desk had been. He had to place his trust in this man. No matter what, he was the one with the final decision on when he would be able to go home. With each week that passed, however, it felt like that goal was further and further out of his reach.

[adoptingmylove.livejournal.com]

"Perhaps... a different approach would be in order," Dr. Disraeli suggested, although he hesitated to continue. He knew countless ways that would work for getting the truth from his patient, and had the feeling that even with the jar incident Mr. Cross would still agree to anything, however...

There was always a risk when using his own items. Reactions that were yet unknown, side-effects that could make the nurses suspicious... Jizabel did not yet know how this man's body responded to anything other than a temperamental drug - another factor that needed to be taken into account. He could not continue to have patients leaving his office in a worse condition than when they had entered.

But dropping the subject altogether was out of the question. He was too curious for his own good, he supposed, and he wanted that information.