#kitw

You caught a glimpse of him once, after he had arrived. He was a pale boy, handsome, with short blonde curls. He didn’t look like the monster that everyone thought that he was. You regarded him with interest, looking him up and down in the hospital gown that he wore, since he wasn’t trusted to have his own clothes yet. How demeaning. It was as if this place was built with the intention of creating monsters. That certainly seemed to be Dr Arden’s goal.  

Of course, Shelley was all over him before he could even get his bearings, that slut. You never liked her much, she’d do anything to get what she desires, do anyone to fulfill her desires too. You watched their interaction, your eyes rolling as she stroked the boy’s bare back, but chuckled to yourself when he pushed her away. Good boy. The whole thing got turned around, however, when Spivey decided to open his fat mouth. That was never a good thing and it ended up in the new boy being put in isolation. 

You forgot about him for the next couple of days. Time passed; it always does. And you have got someone new to observe in the meantime. Lana Winters. Like everyone else in here, she protested that she wasn’t crazy. That she didn’t belong here. You hoped that she would keep that spirit. She would need it. You knew better than anybody that no one escaped from here alive - either by release or by running away.  

It was time for bed, and you solemnly made your way to your room, shuffling like all of the others, blending in with them. This place had the amazing ability to just suck the soul out of anyone who stepped foot in it. That explained Sister Jude. But it also explained the rest of the patients here. Given sedatives instead of real medicine. The way that they never melted under your tongue ... it was enough to make you feel sick. To act sleepy to fool them and then spit them out. You slept better without them, relaxed better without the feeling of being paralyzed. 

You were not sleepy now, but for a moment, you thought that you might have been dreaming. For in your room, there was now another bed, with the new boy on it, the leather straps pulled tight around his wrists and ankles. Sister Jude stood by the bed, her hands crossed in front of her, that sour lemon expression permanently on her face. “Ahh, Miss y/l/n,” she said, as if you were old friends. “I’m glad that I caught you.” 

As if you had no other choice on where to go. You said nothing and looked at her, and then looked at the man that was on the bed. His eyes were wide, alert, staring right back at you with visible nervousness.  

“Mr. Walker here needs to be kept an eye on. As one of our longest-time patients, I think you are just the person to get him assimilated into life here, at Briarcliff. Teach him the rules, so he doesn’t get himself into any more trouble.” 

“Let me guess, the only open space among the men was with Spivy, and you couldn’t have them fighting again, could you? And no - you couldn’t put him in with Shelley for obvious reasons. Lana is too fresh; they might try to scheme. So, you stick him in here with me, because I’m tame?” 

Sister Jude’s expression seemed to become even more sour. You could see the wrinkles growing along her pursed lips. Her eyes narrowed at you, and you knew that she was going to give you a tongue-lashing, so you opened your mouth once more. 

“I believe it is time for bed, and wasn’t it you, Sister, who preached about the benefits of rest? I’d like to be left alone to pray for me, and for his poor soul before I retire,” You spoke, your eyes still on the old nun’s.  

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sister Jude said, folding her arms in front of her. “Do not even think about touching his restraints. They are for everyone’s protection - including his own.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it sister. I’m sure you’ve done what you feel is best,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes once more. She didn’t believe you but at this moment, there was no other choice but to leave the two of you alone. She nodded, graciously, and then walked out of the room. It was closed and locked behind her, and you breathed out slowly, and walked up to the alleged serial killer. You looked down at him, your head tilted. “Hello.” 

“- uhm - hello,” he said, his accent sounding more southern than you had originally expected.  

“You kill all them girls?” You asked. “I have to ask, since we’re going to be sharing a room and all. I need to know if I can sleep around you.” 

He looked at you, bewildered, unable to calm all the way down. “I didn’t kill anybody. I swear.”  

“Alright,” You nodded. “I’m y/n, by the way. What can I call you? Bloody Face - just sounds stupid.” 

“My name ... is Kit." He told you. His voice was soft, too. Almost sweet sounding.  

“Hi Kit,” you said, letting the name roll on your tongue. You decided that you liked the way it sounded. “That doesn’t look comfortable, are the restraints on tight?” 

“A bit,” He admitted, trying to wiggle his fingers but having trouble doing so. You moved closer to his side, looking at the wrist restraints. They were clearly cutting off circulation, making you tut.  

“I can’t take them off because they’ll probably come check you in the morning but -” You unbuckled it, and then redid it so that it was a little bit looser. He was still confined, he couldn’t get his hand out, but he wasn’t struggling either. You went around and did it to all of his restraints. “There, that should be a little bit better.” 

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes focusing on you, dark brown and pretty, even in the low light. “Can I ask - what ya in here for?” 

Your face fell at the question. You were expecting it, of course he would have been curious. “Depression,” You explained. “I ... I attempted to kill myself and rather than take care of me, my family through me in here. That and my social anxiety, I never liked being around a bunch of people, I’m ... shy. And I guess that makes me different enough to be considered insane. But you don’t need to hear my sob story, I know you got one of your own, Kit.” 

He actually looked concerned for you. The one known as Bloody Face, was pitying you. It, like his voice, seemed almost like a sweet gesture. 

After adjusting his ankle cuffs as well, you went to your own bed, the uncomfortable cot with the thin and itchy blanket and the pillow that might as well not even exist. “I guess you’re lucky. I might be the least dangerous person here. If you want to kill me, skin me, well, I probably wouldn’t even put up a fight if I’m being honest with you. I might even thank you for it.” 

“I won’t,” Kit said, less tense with the restraints loosened, only by one hole but regardless. This was the first show of kindness that he had in days. That he could even remember having, since his abduction by aliens. “I didn’t kill nobody. And I’m not going to start with you.” 

“Alright, if you change your mind,” You hummed in the dark. “I don’t know why but - I believe you, Kit. You don’t seem like the other monsters I’ve met in here.” 

“Thank you,” he said, genuinely. “I’m not - I’m not like them. I don’t belong here. I’d never, ever hurt my wife, or those other people.” 

“I don’t know if you’ve heard this yet but - I’m sorry for your loss, Kit. Really.”  

“I - haven’t,” he said, slowly. “Thanks ... y/n.” 

“You’re welcome,” you said. “Now - try to get some sleep. It’s the closest thing to an escape that you can do here.” 

He sighed in response. You understood. The feeling of this need to escape from this hospital where even the highest floors felt like a dungeon was enough to build a fire in anyone. The horrible robe that served as ‘attire’ until you were given clothes that felt more like barbed wire than actual fabric. Trying to be okay when everyone and everything is telling you that you’re not. You wished him sweet dreams, though it was unlikely that he would have them. There was nothing sweet about Briarcliff. 

“How do I stay sane?” You asked, thinking about Kit’s question. You were just glad that the sisters and the doctors weren’t around in the common room to hear that. You were laying on the couch, your legs over Kit’s lap. After spending a couple of days bunked together, you had grown close. He had told you everything about his experience - the aliens, the memory of coming too. And he talked a lot about his late wife. It was enough to make you cry with him at night, if only because you wished that someone had loved you the way that he had loved his wife. Maybe you would have been happier. Maybe you wouldn’t have ever stepped foot in this place at all. “I just killed the memories of everything that is outside of these walls. If everything alive and vibrant out there ceased to be, then this place isn’t too bad.” 

Kit frowned at this, relaxing back against the rock-hard couch cushions of the disgusting couch. It’s probably as old as Sister Jude herself. Jokes were constantly being made that this was the couch that she was conceived on. Stains older than that were on it too. “That’s - horrible,” he said. “There are bad things out there, sure, but it’s plenty bad in here too. These nuns - I don’t believe that Sister Jude has ever had a good thought in her life.” 

“That’s why she married Christ. No man would ever marry someone like her,” You commented, licking your lips as the craving for a cigarette came on strong. Sister Jude was making you quit as a punishment for the last time that you had self-harmed. It might be the nicest thing she’s ever done but it sure didn’t feel like it. As you brought your nails up to bite on them - oral fixation increasing - you looked over to Kit and saw that his dark eyes were watching your lips carefully. Like a seed of something had just been implanted in his mind, before he realized he was caught, and his intense gaze moved up to your eyes again. He chuckled a little, though you weren’t sure if he had heard the joke.  

“Yeah, probably,” he said, absent-mindedly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know what I saw out there was bad - but I gotta believe there’s still good out there. That one day, they’re going to find the real Bloody face. Even if I were to escape from here now, everyone gon’ hate me. And they need to get caught. I don’ care if they’re aliens or the devil himself. They need to get caught and pay for what they did to Alma.”  

“I hope they do,” You nodded. “I hope that your big optimism doesn’t get deflated in here. Everything else does.” 

You stopped biting at your nails and instead, you dug your teeth into your lip, biting off the smallest bit of loose skin there. It was a disgusting habit. You knew it. Everyone around here knew it. But dirty habits were the least of anyone’s problems around here.  

“You’re not like anyone else here,” Kit said, as if this had just occurred to him. You chuckled at that, crossing your ankles. 

“Yeah - too bad no one with any power around here gives a fuck about what you think. To them, I’m the sad waste of space.”  

“No one says that” Kit said, his frown turning into more of a grimace now. His eyes kept flicking down towards your lips as your teeth made small imprints on the thin skin. “‘cept you. Maybe that’s why you’re in here.” 

“What, cause I tell the truth?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, thinking about it for a second, and then continued on before he had a chance to reply. “That would make sense. That’s why you don’t see many politicians in places like this, don’t ya?”  

“No, I mean - ya don’t but, that’s not why I think you’re here,” he said, his voice soft as he looked at you. There was a look on his face that you saw here a lot. Yearning. But usually that look was directed at the doors, or at the windows. To the city outside of Briarcliff. To freedom. “I think you’re here cause you aren’t seeing the truth. You’re not seeing how ... special you really are.” 

Your breath felt like it got stuck for a minute inside of your throat. Special. Now, you had been called special a lot, but it was always in a demeaning way. In the ‘you’re not like other people’ kinda way. In the ‘You’re special and you have to go to this special place for a time, but as it turns out, you’re staying there forever because we can’t be bothered to take care of you’ kind of way. “And how am I special?” You asked, skeptically.  

Kit remained quiet for a second, and then his hand went through his curls. They managed to keep their shape, their luster, despite the awful shampoo that they let the patients use. It was an all in one, if that told you anything.  

“Because you -” he said, and he looked a bit guilty as the words came out of his mouth. “You brought sunshine in the darkest place imaginable.” 

Once more, it felt like your breath just decided to stop in place, cause a pileup, cleanup in aisle esophagus. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “I ain’t ever done something like that. You just haven’t gotten used to me yet, I think. You haven’t seen all the gloom that I’m capable of.” 

“Even now,” he said, his eyes looking deeply into your own, making you gulp. He was leaning a little closer, his eyes so strong and exceptional, it was intimidating. You weren’t afraid of him, but you were growing a little nervous about the power that his words could have on you. That they could perhaps make you feel something ... real. It felt like he was ransacking through your personality, and trying to steal the bad thoughts that made you ... you. “Ain’t no question about it. You’re makin it brighter in here.”  

It almost looked like he was going to kiss you. Your hearts were beating in sync - you could feel his pulse through the small connections that your skin had. Through your legs. His hand coming down to rest gently on your arm. But before you could even blink your eyes closed, Sister Jude stepped into the room, the clicking of her heels bringing time back up to speed. Kit leaned back against the sofa, guilt in his eyes, not that he would let you look at them properly after what had almost transpired. 

You were all ordered to get to your therapy session, or to the bakery in some cases. Bakery was preferred, even though it was a lot more work. It was less emotionally exhaustive than meeting with the doctors. Fortunately for you this was where you were headed, but Kit had to go to see Dr Arden. 

“Hey,” you said to Kit, putting your hand on his shoulder. He still looked like he was avoiding your eye, but that was alright, as long as he stopped to listen to you. “Good luck down there. Arden is...” 

“Evil,” Kit said, hollowly.  

“Yeah. Actually. That’s a good way of puttin’ it. But rememba - he can only hurt your body, Kit. He can’t hurt your mind unless you let him get in it. Don’t let him in there,” You warned, and your grip on his shoulder turned into a light caress, sending visible shivers up and down his spine. His eyes finally reached yours, and you could see that he was feeling a lot in that moment. Guilt, and yearning, and fear most of all. That fear wasn’t a weak thing, it was perfectly reasonable considering where he was going.  

“I won’t,” He nodded.  

You nodded back and you let go of him. You were meant to be his friend, nothing more. No one ever finds more than that in a place like this, in a hellhole. Besides, he was still mourning his wife, his entire life, you had to remind yourself.  

“See ya tonight,” he said, though it was phrased more like a question than a statement. 

“I’ll be searching for ya if I don’t,” You promised. “People go missin’ around here sometimes, I don’t want that to happen to you.” 

“Well, I won’t go willingly,” he said, giving you a soft and sheepish smile. “Just know that.” 

“I’ll remember,” You nodded. “I’ll see you tonight ... roommate.”