One Day at a Time

“Well, then... make me better,” he demanded, his cheeks only growing more red. “I trust you, you’re... different, so I’m just hoping that you’ll actually help, o-or... help me prove the others that I’m right. I just want this to end. I want to be able to go outside, maybe move in with my sister o-or find a place of my own. I want to have a healthy relationship with someone and not freak them out.”

Sitting up stiffly, it was at least good to see his anxiety and sadness being replaced with determination. Hell, he even offered a confident smile to prove himself. “I want to get better. That being said, I don’t want pills... I think that’s good compromise?”
 
"I have no intention on giving you any pills unless I think you desperately need them... and because I'm not entirely convinced that you're sick, I'd rather not dose you up on anything. I'll admit that I'm curious, alright? A part of me thinks that whatever you're seeing might be real because I was sat at home yesterday, spending a good portion of my night glancing around like an idiot, in case there was some weird monster crawling about. If I believed you were sick, why would I do that? Of course, you might have problems, but... I don't know. I don't want to question it, but I can't help it," he groaned, resting his head on his hand as his professional deadpan expression seemed to break down completely, leaving him carefully smiling over at the other once his confession came tumbling from him.

"...I'd still like to treat you. I enjoy our company. It did upset me when you called me cheesy, but I took it too personally. It's just a word I hate, really. All the older doctors I worked with tended to call me that, said my approach with my patients was 'ridiculous'. It just hit a nerve, I shouldn't take it out on you-- no, I'll still treat you. We can talk about whatever you want, just have friendly conversations if that's what you want to do."
 
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".... so you believe me?" He confirmed, a wide smile growing as he eagerly shifted in his chair. “Oh, good! That’s so exciting - I promise I’ll do my best in whatever you want me to do,” he firmly decided, though his voice was still incredibly soft. This time, though, from just how loud he had screamed that night.

“If you don’t think I’m sick then what do you think of me?” He questioned in genuine curiosity, his cheeks now a soft pink in excitement. “I mean, you’re a doctor. All my life everyone has told me that I’m just crazy but you... you believe me, at least a little!”
 
"I think you're sweet? I mean, you've clearly got troubles, right? Even if the existence of these monsters is true, I can't imagine it helps your mental health to see them constantly and be doubted by everyone you tell, so I'm sure that's affected you, and I want to help you with that at least. But I don't think you're as much trouble as they seemed to suggest you were. I don't think you're... incapable of help, nor do I think it's impossible to get through to you. I just think they never took the time to really listen. It's what annoys me, you know? They criticise me for being too intimate with my patients, yet they don't care enough to really listen to them, and I do that. I think I do it well," he murmured, nodding for emphasis, even though he didn't want to use the session whining about how his age and his professional stance was subject for criticism by many of his peers. Instead, he quickly changed the conversation and poured out some water for himself, briefly taking in the fresh vase of flowers on his desk with a smile.

"I still think you need to talk to me, obviously. About what you see and how it makes you feel and all of that-- I really want to know, I'm... completely invested in your case, both professionally and because I happen to have taken a liking to you and want to help you on that level too. Obviously you can talk to other people too, you don't have to bottle it all in for our sessions. The nurses will talk to you, other patients will too."
 
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“I don’t like other patients,” he admitted with pursed lips. “They scare me. They just a they don’t understand anything when I try to explain. They don’t have anything in common with me either, I’d just rather talk to you or the nurses,” he admitted, his eyes avoiding the other out of embarrassment. “I know that’s... I know that’s fucked up but I just don’t think I fit in with them. They make me feel like a freak, like I’m extra weird because I don’t think like them. I’ve never met anyone like me and it freaks me out.”

As he spoke, Casper nervously fiddled with his gloved hands, scratching them through the plastic with a frown. It was true that he felt like an outcast moreso than the others, which only helped with his occasional depression. Doctors and nurses at least listened and he knew he would never have anything in common with them so it helped. “I’m sorry to make you deal with me.”
 
"There are some nice patients here; some more gentle and quiet ones you'f get along well with? I like everyone, I don't think that's a surprise, but I know some of them can be... intrusive," he sighed, frowning once realising that, despite it being the right word, it only made him feel guilty for talking about them in that way. He liked the others as much as he liked Casper, so speaking about them in a negative manner, however factual it was, only made him grimace. He knew he was probably too sensitive about it, but he couldn't really change that.

"...Well, you can talk to me whenever you want. I'll always be around the hospital to chat to if you need me. I'm not here 24/7, but you can always ask one of the nurses if you can call me, I'll always answer. Even if I'm on a date-- not that that'll happen, my dating life's tragic," he snorted, resting his chin in his hand to observe the patient opposite him. "You're too hard on yourself. I like you a lot, I enjoy talking to you. We'll get to the bottom of these monsters-- because I do happen to.... somewhat believe you. We'll make some progress, okay?"
 
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“Okay,” he replied, smiling half heartedly. He still wasn’t gung-ho on the other, obviously, since his attempts to get close to doctors always ended up with him with a different doctor or, in extreme cases, a different hospital all together. The last thing he wanted was to somehow anger the other hence why his frustration startled him.

“I promise I’ll try to make friends and be on my best behavior,” he explained slowly as his eyes darted to a corner, locking on it. “I... I will. Thank you, by the way. I just... really care about all of this, more than you know, so... im sorry for the babbling, aha... I’m thirsty.”
 
Even though he knew he wasn't going to see whatever it was Casper was seeing, curiosity inevitably got the better of him and the doctor's eyes soon followed the patient's towards the corner of the room. He didn't see anything of note, other than a small spider crawling along the carpet, but from Casper's reaction, he knew there was something he was seeing that Nathan -or anyone else for that matter- couldn't.

"...Here," he offered, sliding across a glass and pouring out water from a jug beside his desk, growing quiet as he thought about how to approach the topic. In the end, he went straight for it, rather than skirt around the issue awkwardly. "What are you seeing now, Casper? It's important you tell me. The more you tell me, the better, however difficult it is, okay?"
 
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While a handful of monsters he had seen he had somewhat gotten used to. Not to the point where he was any less uncomfortable but at least not as clearly terrified as Casper was in the moment as was evident by his shaking hands and his simply rigid body. He didn’t reply, at least not for awhile as his eyes seemed to follow this ‘thing’ across the wall as far as he could before squeezing his eyes shut as his shoulders dipped a bit. His breathing hitched as he trembled a tad bit, after only a minute, his shoulders immediately returned and he listened closely. When everything seemed in the clear, he took a shaky sip of the water.

“A very.... tall... man?” He explained, his voice shaky as he spoke. “No eyelids, big smile, b.... boney hands. He was tall a-and had black eyes and he - he touché did me and just... breathed in my ear,” he admitted before sniffling, the sudden urge to cry hitting him suddenly. “I’ve never seen him before but his energy - it isn’t good.”
 
"I'm sure you'll be fine, just... breathe and keep drinking the water to calm yourself down," the doctor recommended, awkwardly glancing behind the patient even whilst knowing the action was redundant when he couldn't see a thing. The emotional sight, however, spurred him into looking around just in case he caught sight of something. "You can leave now if you want-- maybe you should take a nap?"
 
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“Take a nap? Don’t be stupid. Don’t you think I would if I could?” He quickly replied with a mix of both frustration and clear distress. He knew the snap was a bit rude, which was evident by him looking away warily with pursed lips. “There’s nothing I would love more than a nice sleep in bed with some comfortable pillows and thick blankets but that just won’t happen. The only thing that works - and only occasionally - is the sedatives,” he admitted with wide eyes.

“Maybe I should leave, yes,” he murmured as he adjusted his shoulders in an attempt to fix them. Little did the doctor know that, come morning, his shoulders would be lined suspiciously with bruise marks. Scratches and bruises could often be seen but they were usually just chocked up to be by his own doing rather than an outside influence. “Incredibly sorry for stressing you out.”
 
"Like I said, you can leave if you want. I'd rather you stayed and talked to me, but I don't want you becoming uncomfortable if there is a presence here that... distresses you," the man said as softly as he could manage, forcing back the urge to question the patient into divulging over all the details about the monster bothering him. That would only cause more stress and, understandably, he was trying to limit that for him. "...Talk to me about something else. Your hobbies, your music taste, favourite food-- anything."
 
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“Okay, okay, yeah,” he replied warily before offering a nervous laugh, adjusting his weight as he sat. While one part of him wanted to just leave, the pounding in his ears growing louder, he also knew that this was technically the safest place he could be. Looking at the other with a nervous smile, he went as far as to laugh.

“I like gardening, l-like I said,” he explained quickly, though at least it seemed that his quick breathing was slowing down. “Ah, I like just flowers in general. I like painting, too, but I’m not very good. I’m not a modern Van Gogh, that’s for sure. Not to mention people keep taking my paintings away, which isn’t quite fair. Um.... I mean, I don’t really like food in general but there are some exceptions, I.... I suppose,” he admitted, growing quiet once seemingly off of his panic attack. “I’m a boring person, really. Not very fun to hang out around.”
 
Even though he turned against the idea of having a purely professional relationship with him, deciding that the other was in need of a friend as much as anyone else, he wasn't completely convinced that Casper wanted that. So, as he babbled on, Nathan simply smiled and made a few notes to remind him of what he liked, opting not to interject with his own hobbies. He didn't want to make him uncomfortable by being overly friendly, as he had apparently done in the past. "...You can paint here, we have a studio for that, if you'd like."
 
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“You have a studio,” he repeated slowl, processing the words only to slowly smile. That was never an option in the last institution he was in previously, after all. Sure, he was told that everything would be nicer, especially when it was one of his last chances, but he didn’t expect it to be this nice.

“Oh, oh! Cool!” He quickly replied, his mood switching, the air seemingly lifting without really any reason. “Ah... do you want to draw? I mean, you seem smart so maybe you could draw really nice paintings...?”
 
"I can't paint, it's really not my thing, but it's an option for patients here. It's a calm activity that helps take their minds off their problems, if only for a little while. I definitely encourage it," he admitted, smiling in reaction at the excitement. "It's usually available to patients at about 4pm every day-- not many take it up, I'm not sure why-- it'll be quiet there for you, at least."
 
“That’s... wild,” he admitted with an eager grin, his fingers absently tapping on his knees. “I mean... thank you. I know you don’t want to deal with me and that I’m a hassle but this place is... lovely. I don’t think I could survive outside of here, that’s what my sister says, so at least there’s some stuff I can do so I don’t kill myself out of boredom,” he laughed nervously, not really seeing the problem in joking about killing himself when he had nearly done it multiple times.

“I... guess I should leave you be. You’ve got other patients. I suppose that I should leave you to them,” he murmured, looking away. “If you need me, I’ll be in the studio I guess,” he smiled before carefully getting up. The air somehow feeling a million tonnes lighter as he headed out of the room.

While the rest of the day went relatively well, it ended on a negative note. He was seen stumbling out of the studio, babbling about nonesense... only to suddenly cough up blood and collapse. Left behind were drawings of disgusting beasts. Wide eyes, extra limbs, multiple mouths. It wasn’t until he was halfway through the drawing of a particularly detailed, more human-like drawing that he seemed to be stricken with the sudden illness.
 
Throughout most of that day, Nathan was busy enough with other patients to have his mind distracted away from Casper's case, which was a good thing. As invested as he was with Casper and the problem he seemed to have, he also couldn't invest all of his time in him; other patients at the hospital deserved his attention just as much as Casper did. For the most part, he got on with his job without thinking too much about Casper - until news reached him that the boy was apparently in a complete state.

He immediately felt guilty, even if he had no reason to be. He felt guilty that he wasn't there to help Casper immediately, for instance, even though e had a duty of care for every other patient in the hospital. Casper's case was more difficult than any of theirs, so he did deserve a little more time dedicated to it. At least, that's how Nathan now thought, and that was why he felt guilty about not being there to help him at the time of the incident.

It was precisely that guilt that made Nathan stay behind when he should be heading out after his long shift had ended. He had plans to hit a few bars with friends to celebrate a birthday, as well as dining out at a restaurant with them, but, like most days, he prioritised his job over his social life.

"...How 'ya feeling?" He asked softly once peeking his head around the door into Casper's room, smiling gently as he made his way in. "...Do you want to tell me what happened? As slow as you like, Casper."
 
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Once eventually coming through, Casper had spent the hours since simply dissociating. He would lock into walls and just become unresponsive, or would only respond to the absolute necessary. He wanted to be left alone but he knew that wouldn’t happen, half out of embarrassment. He had at least somewhat relaxed, enough to watch some television, though tensed the minute Nathan had stepped in.

With his duvet to his neck, the patient avoided the doctor’s eyes as much as possible. In his head, he assumed the doctor would just say he did everything for attention like his father always said, especially during a bad panic attack. It had only gotten this bad once before when he was younger, at school. He was seemingly punched by nothing before being forced onto the ground where he promptly vomited and passed out.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I... don’t know. I was just painting when It came. My nose began to bleed and... i don’t remember the rest,” he admitted.
 
Nathan wanted to desperately believe the other because if none of this was real and it was all in the patient's head, it was the worst, most severe case of psychosis he had ever encountered - and frankly, that scared him. He had, unfortunately, admitted that he wasn't entirely certain this was all fake, which had instilled trust and optimism into Casper, with Nathan apparently being the only doctor to believe him, but he now regretted admitting that. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was real, but to admit that to Casper had been incredibly unprofessional. He couldn't now offer him medication because he'd be accused of lying about believing him, and the self-imposed dilemma was hardly easy to get out without upsetting him or irking his peers.

"Are there any monsters in here now? Can you see any?" He asked gently, his eyes surveying the room as though he would suddenly see all the horrifying monsters the other claimed to see. Unbeknown to the doctor, he was currently stood right beside one, the shadowy figure pressing a finger up against its own mouth to motion Casper to stay silent.

Not that the being had a mouth; it had no real features to speak of, other than a glowing pair of eyes. Compared to the monsters Casper claimed to see, this one seemed more humanoid in appearance, though the overwhelming darkness and no discernible features hardly made it any less scary. It wasn't threatening, however, instead stepping forward with its eyes softening, as though a smile was breaking on its face.