Chapter Text
The sound of the fluorescent lights above him, his steady breathing, and the occasional sound of papers shuffling are the only sounds in the room. Purnell shifts a bit, scanning the page in front of him. One of his main patients, Simon Henriksson, recently landed himself in the psych ward, labelled dangerous for shooting two police officers. Purnell knew he was unstable, but he didn’t quite know to what extent. He rereads a section of the report, focusing on the details.
“…responded to multiple calls regarding gunshots being heard from the apartment. Upon arrival, we found the inhabitant, Simon Henriksson, in an inebriated state. He later confesses to being on a high dose of his medication at the time. He fully confessed to the crimes, cooperating with officers completely during his arrest. It is believed”
Purnell jumps as the door to his office opens, and a somewhat familiar figure enters.
“Dr Purnell,” they greet. Purnell stands.
“Dr Wadfieldi! What a pleasant surprise!” Purnell moves around his desk to greet the other doctor, who sighs.
“Not as pleasant as it should be, I’m afraid,” Wadfieldi says.
“Oh? What brings you to Maple Grove, Wadfieldi?” Purnell asks.
“I got assigned a new patient, from the prison,” Wadfieldi responds.
“What kind?”
“A rehab. They say he was on heavy drugs at the time of his arrest, and the withdrawals aren’t exactly being kind to him,” Wadfieldi grimaces.
“Withdrawals never are,” Purnell nods.
“What about you, Dr Purnell? Last I heard, you had moved your office out of here,” Wadfieldi glances around, taking in Purnell’s office.
“Ah yes, I had! However, some… troubling circumstances have landed me right back here,” Purnell sighs.
“Well, seems we’ve both got troubling circumstances on our hands, doesn’t it?” Wadfieldi almost smiles. It’s not exactly a funny topic.
“Yes, it does,” Purnell agrees.
“Well, I should be heading out. I’ve got to meet with my new patient for the first time. Just wanted to stop by and say hello!” Wadfieldi says.
“Well, hello and goodbye, Dr Wadfieldi!” Purnell says, watching Wadfieldi leave before returning to his desk to continue reading reports.
Wadfieldi walks down the hall, his shoes clicking on the polished tiles below him. The hallway is empty other than him, quietly heading for his office. He meets the nurses, and his new patient, at the door.
“Ah, there you are, Doctor!” one of the nurses greets, smiling.
“Yes, sorry about my being late, I got caught up with something,” Wadfieldi responds, unlocking the door and opening it, motioning for the nurses to escort the patient in. As they do, Wadfieldi gets a good look.
David Leatherhoff, the file said. He’s in his mid 20’s, though he looks like he could pass as 40. His reddish-brown hair is grown out, not taken care of, plastered to his forehead with sweat. His eyes are sunken in and quickly scan what’s around him, though it’s not certain whether he’s taking anything in or not. He’s rather slim, though tall, and there are hints of old muscle in his frame, as though lost only recently. His hands are cuffed together in front of him, and he’s got quite the hunch.
Wadfieldi follows them in, walking around his desk to sit, watching the nurses sit David down and then stand on either side of him.
He killed 27 people, claims to remember none of it. The drug tests that were run showed various amounts of drugs in his body, enough that he ended up having a mild overdose in the back of the cop car he was put in after his arrest.
David doesn’t look at Wadfieldi, eyes quickly bouncing from one thing to the next, but never landing on him. His leg bounces up and down, a very obvious anxious habit.
“So,” Wadfieldi smiles, “it’s nice to finally meet you, David!”
David just hums, looking down at his hands, finding sudden interest in them.
“I hear you were having some trouble? Would you care to explain to me what kind?” Wadfieldi asks, though he already knows. He’s trying to get David to speak. His file says he’s not very talkative.
David glances at Wadfieldi for the first time, then immediately back down.
“W-Ww…” David takes a breath. “Wi-Withdrawals.”
Wadfieldi nods. Speech impairment, a symptom of withdrawals. “Alright, David. Now- Do you know where you are?”
David’s eyes shoot around a moment. “Hospital.”
“Right- But do you know which one?” Wadfieldi clarifies.
David shakes his head.
“You’re at Maple Grove Hospital, David. You were transferred here from the prison you were being held at so that we could help you with your withdrawals. Do you understand that?” Wadfieldi asks, watching him closely.
David nods, not looking at him again.
“Good,” Wadfieldi opens the file in front of him. “It says here they found large amounts of phencyclidine in your system when they arrested you. Is that correct?”
David shakes his head.
Wadfieldi raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“Si-Si-Ssimilar. Not that,” David says.
“Do you know what it was?” Wadfieldi furrows his eyebrows.
David shakes his head.
Wadfieldi looks at the file again, humming. “Well then. Have you ever been to rehab before, David?”
David shakes his head once more.
“Alright. Well, it’s quite a simple process, though not always easy. First, we’ll assess to see what we need to do. Next is detoxification, which you’ve gotten a little bit of a head start on already. We’ll give medication when needed, and you’ll have a schedule to follow every day. For the first week or so you’ll have a nurse assigned to help you but after that period you will be expected to follow it yourself. Do you understand so far?”
David nods, scratching at his hand.
“You’ll be given a private room, but because of your circumstances you will not be allowed to leave outside of scheduled times, and you’ll have to be supervised when you do. You’ll also meet with me daily, as well as having group therapy and other kinds of therapies throughout the day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are at the same times every day, and it is encouraged you eat at every mealtime. Do you understand?” Wadfieldi asks, closing the file.
David nods once more.
“Great!” Wadfieldi stands. “How about I give you a small tour, David?”
David glances up at him for a single moment, and Wadfieldi catches a glint of annoyance in his eyes. The nurses pull him to his feet, and they’re out the door.
The nurses allow David to walk with Wadfieldi but don’t leave them alone.
Wadfieldi shows David to the common room first, then the various other rooms, getting nothing out of him. He just goes along quietly, not looking at Wadfieldi.
Eventually, they end up at David’s room, where he’ll be staying for the next while. It’s in the more secure wing, where the more dangerous patients are kept. It’s a lot quieter here, less traffic in the halls, as patients aren’t allowed here.
Wadfieldi opens the door to David’s room for him, allowing him to walk in first. He does so, not even looking around.
“This is where you’ll be spending most of your time,” Wadfieldi says, then motions towards the bathroom. “You don't get your own restroom for safety reasons, but there's one just down the hall. Do you have any questions, David?”
David pauses a moment before lifting his hands, still cuffed together, metal clinking together.
“D-Do I get these off?” he asks quietly.
Wadfieldi nods, “Yes, of course. We value the comfort of our patients here, so that means no handcuffs.”
A nurse steps forward, keys jingling in hand as they unlock the cuffs, removing them from David’s sore wrists. He rubs at them quietly.
“Anything else?” Wadfieldi asks.
David shakes his head.
Wadfieldi smiles, “Great! If you ever do have a question, just ask a nearby nurse, or press the nurse button located near your bed and one will come to you. I’ll let you get adjusted now.”
Wadfieldi takes one last look at David before turning and walking out, the two nurses following suit, one of them locking the door behind them, effectively sealing David in his room.