The Skin That Crawls From You [A Jonathan Crane Fan-fiction]

October 30th| Arkham Asylum

A metallic squeal woke me this time. I was on the ground in front of the door. Decidedly, after countless attempts at escape last night- I fell asleep there. If anyone were to try to come in here, if Doctor Crane wanted to strike while I was vulnerable; he would trip over me and wake me first. Or so I thought.

But there he stood, opening a dusty brown set of curtains to a window I didn't know I had. The curtain rod creaks and squeals with the movement.

"Sleep well?"
Always the tone of condescension. He tilts his head and gazes at my body on the dirty floor.

"It's time for your shower,"
He decides, walking towards me.

I jump back, the bottom of my spine slamming into the metal door frame, sending sharp pain radiating through my back. His eyes widen and he reaches a hand to me; to help me up.

"I'm not going to hurt you,"
He lies. Something unfamiliar in his eyes, his tone almost warm- maybe even apologetic?

I scramble to my feet and reject his outstretched gesture. I would have to trust him to want his help, right?

He steps back and drops his hand, tensing his jaw and looking away for a moment.

"Miss Selleck, your assistance."
He snaps.

Behind me, the pudgy nurse appears soundlessly. She gently grasps my arm.

I rip away from her touch.

"Relax, she's just taking you to the bath hall,"
His voice is laced in condescension once more.

The nurse pats me down, straps me into another chair (as if that worked last time), and wheels me down the dimly lit hall. The lighting in here is enough to drive a person mad, insane doctors aside.

The bathroom is one large tiled room, with tiled walls and tiled dividers separating each shower; no curtains. The drains are rusty, chunks of hair sit atop the rust, and the shower heads are covered in mold. I stifle a gag.

I wish that was the worst part of the room, but the smell was far worse. Rotting eggs, sulfur water, a hint of oniony body odor and a touch of metallic fear. It was everywhere now that I had smelled it once.

The nurse peeled my hospital gown off of me, her eyes looking everywhere but my body. I was grateful for this; despite being ripped of all other privacy, she granted me that one small favor. She pushed me into the shower, and I watched my feet, stepping over chunks of god knows what. With the creak of the pipes, she turns the water on, ice cold water stabbing me in the back. I arch and squeal, glaring at her as I step out of the water's path.

She adjusts the water a bit more, and we wait. Finally, it's bearable; not warm but not freezing.

"I heard you scream,"
She says suddenly, her voice soaking in a Latin accent.

"What?"
I ask, she hands me a nondescript bottle of soap and gestures to my head.

"Did he hurt you?"
She locks eyes with me for a moment, her brown gaze soft and caring. Warm.

I step back, looking at the woman in awe.

"Are you okay?"
She asks.

I lie with an enthusiastic nod. I'm not sure why I do.

She smiles unconvincingly and gestures for me to rinse my hair.

I could almost cry. I hadn't heard those words from anyone in so long. It had all been accusations and yelling, cold glares and condescension.

"Thank you,"
Is all I can muster, but I want to say so much more.

•

I finish my shower, and the nurse lets me walk back. She wheels the chair beside me but watches me like a hawk. As I step back into my room, Doctor Crane is waiting for me. He looks at me, his eyes traveling down my body shamelessly for a moment, before he averts his eyes and looks at the clipboard in his hand.

I'm suddenly aware of my lack of undergarments. I stare down and notice my nipples through my gown, i hope the layer of cloth isn't as see-through as it is thin. My hair is a damp mess, I'm a damp mess.

"Please sit,"
The doctor says, clearing his throat.

I sit on my bed, the side without bars and look at the young man in front of me. I hear Miss Selleck wheel the chair away.

He's just a man, a young man, with wants and desires too. I don't need to trust him to want his help; I just have to know his weaknesses well enough to get my way. I decide.

He looks up at me and raises his brows.
"Miss Alcott?"