𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑.

Patient was discharged to begin the transfer to Huáng Niǎo Mental Facility in Sanya, China, tonight at 8:00 PM. She will be accompanied by a family member throughout the process, all of the required belongings as well as medicines have been approved to be brought along during the transfer. 

“Yeah -- I guess so.” It felt so weird, though, she wasn’t sure if it just didn’t feel right, or something that she was not fucking accustomed to at all; she felt like the people who’d left her before, down on the floor bruised and in tears and asking them if they’d ever come back. This was one of the reasons she’d opted to avoid people these past few days, the line between right and safe was beginning to become murky again. “Hey, it’ll be okay. It’s not like, I’ll be fucking gone forever or anything,” she pulled her hand away, cringed, not wanting to make the situation even more heavy. “I might come by again soon, who knows,” if she did return, “get you another Dory or some shit. Sound cool?” She smiled, weakly. “You can try and get better too. How have you been lately?”

Her eyes fixated on the floor, though, she was partially glad that Alice was just-- sort of letting it slide, making it easier for her to just conceal whatever she was feeling on the inside. She didn’t want things to get too emotional, didn’t want to shed a tear or even heave out the breath she’d been holding--don’t be weak, her father’s words were an echo she’d never thought she would need. “Yeah. You too. Don’t get into too much trouble,” she piped, making it light, just a tad, although her whole figure was still tense. Heather was silent for a second, before speaking again softly. “Hey, Alice. When you were- when you were outside,” she could just ask Pepper about this, but she wasn’t so certain if her next encounter with her would be this calm, “when you were outside with Pepper, what was it like?”

Her body was still angled forward, but she was watching him from the corner of her eyes --- the way he stuttered just made her feel concerned, and she shouldn’t-- she shouldn’t start piling up concern after concern over the people here when she was close to jetting the fuck off, but couldn’t help herself. She placed a hand on his shoulder, the least she could offer. “Yeah. I am. Next Wednesday, I’m moving to a facility close to where my mom lives. Figured I could focus more on my recovery there,” she mumbled, almost sounding robotic now. Her jaw felt sore. “Take care, okay?” 

“Right, sure.” She just wished this whole event would just end soon so she could duck her head and hide her ass again, until then, she’d have to deal with these awkward encounters. “Yeah, my aunt.” And her dad, but he went straight for Sam, again. “Talked for a little bit, she just left.”

She was reticent the whole time--but she noticed everything; she was not the type who would truly pay attention to a lot of things, unless they involved the people she gave a fuck about and Renee, despite the tacky and sludgy bickers, was one of them. There was so much acridity on her tongue, splashed to quieten whatever snide remarks she would’ve shoved had the ache within her ribcage been less throbbing. It was a bit ironic how different they looked now but there was that string which reminisced what they’d always been -- fucked up reflections attached by the devil himself. Renee was an involuntary player of his game, but there was a part of Heather which felt like utter shit for feeling relieved, grateful, that she’d been dragged into it. She didn’t know what would’ve happened without the older woman around. She would’ve died a long time ago, probably, submerged in the ocean or willingly being dragged to her last breath by that car. She hoped Renee at least realized she’d saved a life. Some unimportant, messy-haired, snotty-nosed and angry kid’s life. “It’s not your fault.” She muttered, instead of responding directly to her comments. “The bad, sad, fucking ugly parts. He threw you under the bus so both us would feel awful--but you didn’t create, or enable or enhance whatever fucking issues that I’ve got. What I turned out to be wasn’t your fault, at all. No one could’ve stopped it. Not you. Not even myself, sometimes. Most of the time. He would’ve continued with or without you around.” She stared at her. “Remember that, okay? And please- please take care of Sam,” her breaths jumbled a tad, “I’ll miss you. A lot.” Then she smiled, bitterly. “China’s going to be big.”

“I don’t fucking know, Pepper! Maybe I just can’t fucking stick around and look at you in the eye without wanting to say fuck it and scrap this whole thing and I can’t do that when I have to-- when I need to keep going. Maybe I just don’t know shit about goodbyes and how to say it without hurting both of us. Maybe I just don’t fucking know WHAT TO FUCKING DO ANYMORE!” She stood up, bared teeth, swung a hand aside. The last part resembled a firecracker; seething, before a combustion, an instinctual response because Pepper was yelling and there seemingly was so much pressure in her words to cobble up the reminder of twelve and fourteen and eighteen and the man who was supposed to protect her, her whole family, who was supposed to say ‘daddy’s home!’ smashing a bottle instead and telling her to answer his question or else she’d have to meet the restraints and the attic again once dinner was done. It was a knee-jerk reaction, and her own voice needed to be louder so he wouldn’t see her cower and make things even worse. Her chest burned, and she closed her eyes -- this was Pepper, this was Pepper, she was still at Glendale and she was still safe and Pepper -- Pepper did deserve an explanation. Fuck. She knew a lot of things about goodbyes, she just didn’t know how to do it properly, she was used to just seeing people’s backs or not seeing them at all before disappearing -- thought it was how supposed to be done. “I don’t--” she plopped back down on the bench, the heels of her palms pressing against her eyes, but there, she left some space for Pepper to sit, “I don’t know what to do, okay?”

“You pe--oh okay,” that was a little baffling, but she was too disinterested to ask or argue, or speak much in general, and knew she had to be stuck here no matter how much she wanted to slip away. She was pretty sure the basement was locked thoroughout the visit week, and there was nowhere else she could crash and claim as a hiding sanctuary. The question made her flinch, regret this even fucking further. “That’s me,” she mumbled. “It’s okay. Took a long time to get the greenlight, but I should be off next Wednesday.”

“Yeah--that’s more than enough. I just need someone to make sure she wouldn’t hurt herself or anything.” That was the portion that frightened her the most; Sam never harmed herself when she was conscious, but the stress would probably trigger another episode at night, and she just hoped- if not Alex, or Andie, or Nita, or Jordan, or Casey, or fuck, Pepper, then anyone could stop her if that ever happened. “Do you roam around past curfew?” It’d be helpful if he did, she didn’t want to ask too much from him but he was one of the only people she could trust. She let out a small chuckle. It wouldn’t have worked out -- Heather was all rage and rough hands, sometimes, she would’ve become allured and intoxicated by the thought of him relishing pain and used that as a way to relieve her anger instead of bottling it. It would have been fucked up, and not healthy at all. He deserved better.  “And all the junk that’s wrong with me, we’d be kind of a horrid mix. Plus, my gay vajayjay is too fucking strong, you’d have to deal with me looking at girls and being like oh shit, tiddies! All the time.”  She grinned, weakly, vacantly, just to lighten the atmosphere. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything, too, though it’s good to be reminded that this milkshake still brings all the girls and the boys to the yard.” A nod. “Yeah, you two could go to the physical therapy together and trash talk the therapist behind their back.” She had to frown a bit at the Cole subject, the thing was, she and Cole had--always strangely gotten along, kind of, their conversations had always meshed well, but then again they could’ve been just trying prod each other the whole time. “Did he hurt you? Like, terrorize you or some shit?” Andy also talked smack about Alex, but she figured mentioning one was enough. She shrugged, but let out another soft, half-heaved snicker. “Good. Now a deal’s been made. You gotta get out of here one day too, okay?” 

The only response to Alice’s refusal was a long, knotted sigh, if she had been in a less detached mood she would’ve laughed, joked around with her, she wouldn’t have put up this big invisible shell around her. Her question only made Heather assume that she hadn’t heard anything yet, so she was going to do this quickly, simply, and hopefully she wouldn’t have to elaborate too much. “I’m leaving, Alice. Next Wednesday. I’m continuing my treatment in China, and I don’t know when I’ll return to the states--or if I’ll ever return.” She wanted to say take care of yourself, watch Pepper or something, but that didn’t feel right anymore; that felt like she didn’t trust them at all. “I’m trying to get better. For real.”

“Right.” To be honest, she didn’t really want to hear are you alrights, didn’t want to delve into what she’d been feeling or not feeling anymore; it just felt like a meaningless waltz when asked by strangers, but less painful at least. They wouldn’t know whatever it was that she was trying to shroud and there was something a bit comforting about that. “I’m fine, just tired. Are you supposed to be out here? Lots of busy-ness in there.”  

She almost persisted, repelled by the idea that she might become emotional around him, look fragile maybe --- but the troubled fragments in his expression were so sturdy and she had a feeling if he forced himself to mingle with those people, there’d only be a stack of harmful consequences on his part. “Are you okay?” She didn’t smile back, there were harsh lines on her face but she chewed her lip, tried to look less detached. “Want me to get you a glass of water or something? You look off.” So did she.