These Scars don't heal easy...

The air was cold. It was the first thing that entered his mind and he focused upon it for the slight trip to the institution. Several thoughts entered his mind… was he really going to do this? Once he stepped foot inside he wouldn’t be allowed to leave unless they deemed him cured. Alex wasn’t one to give his fate over to the hands of people of whom he didn’t know. It was one of those things that he simply failed to understand and now he was going to be forced to understand. Regardless of all of this, he didn’t want to leave the car just yet, he continued sit in the back of his rusted taxi, ignoring the driver’s need to have a conversation with the muscled American.

Over the trip his gaze snapped towards the site of where he and Katelyn had fought, he had beaten her senseless. Despite the taxi driver taking an obviously longer route, Alex was fixated on that grassy overlook for what seemed like an eternity. The screams echoed around his head as he rubbed his fingers together, almost feeling the ripped hair as he did that day. Images of Katelyn’s swollen face and body reminded him that Alex truly had gone way past the point of sanity years ago. At the time it felt so right, as if he were some kind of almighty judge who was never wrong. In a way he still felt like this, still felt like he was invincible.

Things went blurry again for a small while until the taxi driver informed him that they had reached their destination. Alex threw a pair of £50 notes across the front seat and exited quickly, wanting release himself from the smell of cheap cigarettes and coffee. Cold air was fresh at least and welcoming release. It was good to see the sky again also, a long windy path led into what seemed like a very well kept institution. Surprisingly the heavy metal gate doors were wide open, he had arrived extremely early. His watch showed just after 6AM, he didn’t want to wait around in the base for someone to try and change his mind.

While the sky was grey, so was the building about half a mile’s walk away from him. It seemed almost surreal that the place was in so much seclusion. Trees lined up perfectly on either side of the road of which Alex was glad he could walk. It would give him his last chance of solace before he was pumped full of drugs and forced to talk about his ‘feelings’. It was going to be an experience at least.

The institution gained height with every step he took towards it, now he could see a few of the workers around the place walking with patients at close proximity. It was still pretty early in the morning but Alex quickly put it down to the days mixing together. Nights weren’t going to be any better here than they were in the URCS base for sure. Screams echoing through the hallways gave Alex more of a sinister smile, at least it’d remind him of the interrogation rooms. As he halted just in front of the institution Alex looked around at the vast amount of windows barred up. It was like a prison complex with rooms stretching around in a circle, almost like the Pentagon.

A large wooden door with some welsh statement imprinted on it didn’t take Alex’s attention much. He guessed it simply said ‘Crazy assholes enter here’. After a small moment he pushed open the door to reveal a brand new world. As soon as the wooden door closed behind him it was as if the sky had given up and gone home. The reception was dead in front of him with a elderly women granting him a double take. He didn’t look like the sort of person who would be around here at all despite the worn outlook and unkempt beard.

“Your far too early for visitors hun” stated the receptionist while smiling towards the tall American. Alex always wondered why the Welsh were extremely hospitable to almost everyone. Carrying his bag over and placing it just in front of the protected window he responded.

“Not a visitor, I’m checking in to this hotel” stated Andersson with a serious tone towards his joke. The receptionist seemed slightly shocked but quickly started pulling out some paperwork, it was rare that someone would openly just come to the institution without first being carried in the front door. Without hesitation Andersson passed over his piece of paper from the URCS, of course named after a fake military organisation.

“We had a call yesterday about you Mr Andersson, we were expecting you in a few days I believe” stated a voice next to him, like a ninja a doctor had a hand upon his shoulder. The doctor was fairly built himself, middle aged and coloured skin. British by accent, the doctor seemed like the head honcho of the place, Alex expected himself to be like a prize for the institution, it was rare a doctor could have the chance to meddle in a soldiers broken brain.

“I got sick of waiting”

A few days had passed since he had arrived in the mental institution and the drugs they were making him take were fairly intense, his doctor had decided that after he settled in for awhile they could begin on their first session. Doctor Dunne was his name and would be attempting to head fuck his way into Alex’s brain today. Andersson had spent most of his morning listening to the new Alter Bridge album he had requested before being summoned into Dunne’s office.

As he walked in he immediately took in his surroundings, Dunne sat in a leather chair with a clipboard on his lap, beside him was his desk and beside that was a large couch that had been moved out the way. Odd, another leather chair was placed directly opposite Dunne, Kensington had never done this in her time and she was considered one of the best in her field. Dunne had come prepared however for Alex’s military background and removed almost everything with a pointy end to it. Two windows echoed white light into the room and a multitude of lockers filled up the rest of the room, it wasn’t pretty but Alex wasn’t going to complain.

“Sit down Alex, we wont go through much today, just get to know each other a bit better” stated Dunne as he signalled over to the chair, Andersson frowned slightly but sat down in the leather chair with his body stiff, unable to enjoy the comfortable nature of the chair.

“Now Alex, before we start with you for the next few weeks, let’s get myself out of the way” Dunne stated looking for Alex’s approval, he continued with a quick nod “I’ve been doing this job for about twenty years now and I’ve helped a lot of people, I’m hoping that I could help you aswell. Now I don’t know much in your file Alex, is their any in your background that you could enlighten me with?”

“It’s a cliché but if I told you I would have to kill you, or I’d be dead, I’d choose you pretty quickly”

“Not a problem at all Alex, but what I do know about you is that you’re American, used to live in San Francisco and was an established police detective until the San Francisco Incident, sound about right?”

Alex laughed to himself a little bit before nodding once again, the papers never made the proper connection. The US government didn’t want to give the public knowledge that one man could destroy half a city in just a day and how easy it was to cause chaos if you had the proper tools, not to mention the terrorist claims garnering support for the war in Iraq.

“So Alex, why are you here then?”

“Because I want to get better… I mean… I uh… my heads not in the right place”

“Just to make it clear Alex, you don’t have to try to prove your pain to me. I hope I don’t offend you when I say this but it’s clear to a professional to me that you are far more distressed than the patients who swing back and forth muttering nonsense. They don’t have walls, you’ve built up quite a few haven’t you?”

This guy was pretty good then, he had the same ability as Alex to garner information from small things. Isabella had the same insight too, he hadn’t expected it from Dunne however. Instead Andersson decided to play fire with fire.

“You’ve recently divorced, the skin on your wedding finger is slightly lighter but by the density I think you keep putting it back on and off so the wife can’t make her mind up. Your around 43 and with the position of this chair you see me more of a threat to your intelligence, this brings out the child playing mentality that you’re playing with me at the moment. You dyed your hair quite recently aswell and the aftershave you’re wearing probably costs less than £20, probably because you HAVE to look professional rather than enjoy looking this way. But I’m guessing you’re a classy man, a vast majority of workers in your professional over 20 years of experience would know their wines”

Dunne smiled back to his patient and replied “I think we’ve gotten to know each other quite well for today, you may leave”