#princani

"Hell! At least something akin to it. Come on Ro-Ro, you remember me right? We ran into each other a lot at Dr. Picani's office!"

Roman stares at the man's pudgy face for a moment, the blonde curls and freckles were somewhat familiar.

"You're... Patton... Emile's patient... W-What the hell is going on?"

Patton grins brightly as he throws his arms up.

"I'm getting rid of you! Or attempting to, you're really getting in mine and Logan's way of making Emi ours, and we just can't have that anymore!"

Roman stares at him dumbfounded for a moment before it all sinks in.

"You're the one who's been stalking him!"

A pained yelp leaves the red-head's mouth as Patton back hands him.

"I'm not stalking him!! I'm not, besides that wasn't me. That was Logan."

Roman groans as he works the pain out of his jaw.

"W-Who is Logan?"

"My boyfriend! He and I met Emi, first, but then you showed up and ruined everything!"

Patton looks as if he's about to hit him again, so Roman prepares himself for the pain, only for a pale light to flood whatever room they were in.

"Patton, darling what did I tell you about playing with our prey?" A deep monotoned voice speaks from within the light.

Roman could make out the sound of dress shoes clicking across the floor, creeping closer to him and Patton.

"Not to... but I have a reason to! Especially since we have something to show him! Is our sunshine ready?"

A man with dark brown hair steps into Roman's view, he wore a dark blue suit with a black tie. This had to be Logan.

"He is, it took awhile, but he finally gave up in the end."

Roman watches as Patton lights up and throws himself into Logan's arms. He goes to ask who they were talking about, only for Patton to speak over him.

"Before you go, we have a little something we would like to share with you!"

The sound of someone else walking into the room filled Roman's ears. He looks over and sees Emile, his once vibrant grey eyes now dulled.

"Em! Y-You need to run these two are crazy!"

Roman's face crumples when Emile ignores him, choosing to walk over Patton and Logan. He watches as the two of them hold to Emile's waist.

"Darling, you don't know who this is do you?" Logan asks.

Emile looks Roman dead in the eye as he speaks.

-Present Day-

    Emile was getting fed up with the odd messages. Every time he blocked a number, they returned with a new number. They weren’t threatening, or anything that made him believe he should go to the police. Just sporadic “hi”, “why aren’t you replying”, “are you there?”

    Probably a wrong number. Or some guy who was given a fake number. At first Emile had tried telling him this, but over the last couple of weeks he’d given up. If he just kept blocking and ignoring, surely they’d get the message?

    He sighs as he turns his phone off, silencing the constant dinging that came from the unwanted messages. Emile glances in the full body mirror and runs his fingers through his pink fringe, a nervous tic he developed when he was a teenager. 

    “Emi! Your breakfast is getting cold, stop worrying and get down here!” His boyfriend calls from down in the kitchen. 

    “I’m coming, Roman!” 

    Emile looks into the mirror once more and gives his reflection a reassuring smile, ‘Everything was going to be okay.’ 

    The smell of coffee and eggs fills Emile’s nose when he steps into the kitchen, he chuckles when he sees his boyfriend swaying to the melody of a Disney song that was playing from his phone’s speaker. Emile sneaks up behind the distracted redhead and places his arms around Roman’s waist, earning a squeak from the taller man. 

    “You’re the cutest you know that?” 

    “I do! I actually hold the world title of being the cutest man alive, now you need to sit and eat. You’re not going to work on an empty stomach.” Roman replies as he presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Emile’s mouth. 

    Emile chuckles as he sits down at the table, taking a sip of his coffee as he does. “What would I do without you, Ro?” 

    “Starve, considering you can’t cook.” 

    The young therapist in training rolls his eyes as he scoops a bite of eggs into his mouth. 

    “Wrong, Dee would feed me plenty.” 

    “Until the two of you get into an argument, then you’d have to rely on fast food.” Roman teases as he sits next to Emile with his own plate of food. 

    Emile sticks his tongue out and drinks more of his coffee before shoveling the rest of his eggs into his mouth. He quickly chews and wipes his mouth with a napkin before pressing a kiss to Roman’s cheek. 

    “Speaking of arguments, I’m going to have to take the bus this morning. Apparently calling him a ‘reckless’ driver was insulting.” 

    “Desmond Wickham a reckless driver? Please, going eighty through a residential is his default setting, it’s only reckless if he goes ninety!” Sarcasm drips from Roman’s mouth as he bites into a piece of buttered toast. 

    Emile snorts in amusement and shakes his head, “Of course, but I better go. I’ll text you before I go in.” 

    Roman quickly snatches his boyfriend by the waist, causing Emile to bend down slightly allowing Roman to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

    “Be careful, my precious rose, I love you.” 

    “I love you too, prince charming.” 

    Emile adores the way Roman still blushes at the nickname. They’d been dating since High School, with only a short break at college before Emile missed Roman too much and begged for a long distance relationship. And yet the man still got flustered over the nicknames Emile found for him.

    In a way, it was ridiculous, and Emile’s brother would happily say that until the cows came home. But Emile knew Desmond liked Roman really, and more than anything it was sweet. It reminded him of when they first started dating, and everything was new and experimental.

    It was hard not to adore the reminder of how Roman would blush every time they held hands, or squeak at every chaste kiss. They may have grown and become more mature about those things, but the small flusteredness over nicknames remained a soft spot.

    “How did I get so lucky?” Emile asks. 

    Roman’s blush deepens as he buries his face against Emile’s side, causing the pink haired boy to laugh. 

    “You’re such a sap, Emi! Get out of here before I decide to keep you to myself for the day.” 

    Emile chuckles and presses a kiss to Roman’s fiery red hair before stepping out of his boyfriend’s relaxed hold. 

    “I’ll be home around eight-thirty, want me to pick up some pizza for dinner?” 

    Roman waves his hand and gently shoos Emile away. 

    “I don’t mind cooking, besides I want to be better than Des at it one day, so I need the practice now go my precious rose.” 

    Emile steals another kiss before rushing to put his shoes and coat on, “I love you, prince charming!” 

    A satisfied smile comes to his face when Roman lets out a flustered squeak, he leaves with a high pitched ‘I love you too’ following him. Emile hums softly to himself as he strolls towards the bus stop, he would try calling Desmond around lunchtime and make amends. 

    “I should really think about getting my license…” 

    Emile huffs as he pulls his phone from his pocket, he turns it back on and is met with constant dings from the same random number that was texting him this morning. One message sent a chill racing down his spine. 

    ‘Pink is definitely your color ;).’ 

    That was the last message that was sent, Emile jumps when the roar of the bus’s engine snaps him out of his shock. He puts his phone back into his pocket and takes a deep breath, ‘They’re not talking about me, it’s okay I’m just overreacting.’ Emile tells himself as he counts out the right amount of money for the bus fare. 

    He flashes the bus driver a small smile as he pays the fee, the driver tips his hat and closes the door as Emile moves to sit in the back. 

    ‘It’s still going to be a good day, it's okay.’ 

    A part of Emile no longer believed that thought. 

    He tries to ignore thoughts of the text as he plugs his earphones in. There was no need for him to worry about odd texts. He’d never had strangely personal texts like that before, why would they start now? It was probably aimed at someone else, like all the other texts.

    You seriously still believe that? Come on, let’s stop kidding ourselves.

    Emile ignores his inner voice, choosing to focus on the song that was playing, it was Stronger Than You from Steven Universe. He tenses when the song is cut off with a new text notification. Emile takes a breath and opens the text, his blood ran cold. 

    ‘I can see you, that’s my favorite cardigan of yours that you’re wearing.’

    Emile looks up and scans the patrons in front of him, no one looks out of the ordinary, everyone minding their own business other than a mother who was struggling to calm her infant down. 

    ‘Who are you? Please leave me alone, my brother is a detective!’ He texts back. Emile watches anxiously as the three text bubbles appear and disappear multiple times. His mouth goes dry when the dreaded reply comes through with a chime. 

    ‘I’m your saviour, my precious bunny.’ 

    He forces himself to breathe upon seeing the message. That was creepy, yes, but it was fine, right? There was no way he could actually see him.

    ‘Is your phone background still that guy dressed as a cartoon character?’

    Emile breathes deeply and looks at his phone background. Roman had taken him to a comic con, and had cosplayed as Prince Zuko from Avatar The Last Airbender. Zuko had never been Emile’s type, but when it was Roman? Hot. Burning hot, one might say.

    He frantically texts back with ‘no, it’s the gay pride flag’. A lie, but that was fine, right? There was no way this stalker - that’s what it must be, right? - could know for sure.

    He gets the next message within a moment.

    ‘Liar.’

    His heart races as he breaks out in a cold sweat.

    ‘I’m not lying, it really is the gay pride flag!’ 

    The reply was almost instant, Emile’s hands were shaking as he read over the text multiple times. 

    ‘Funny, because to me it looks like a pretty red-head with blue eyes, with a shitty white foundation on and a crappy looking attempt at a burn scar. Prince Zuko right? From Avatar The Last Airbender? Gotta say I didn't think he was your type.’ 

    Emile scans the bus again, everything once again seems normal, no one standing out, only the mother with the infant was finally relaxed with the sleeping child resting against her chest. 

    ‘Leave me alone, if you text me again I’m going to my brother.’ 

    Once the reply is sent Emile immediately blocks the number, cutting off all contact with his apparent stalker. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he could handle this, he didn’t need his brother’s help right now. Surely with the threat of telling his detective brother, ‘You don’t really think Dee would believe you? He’s got better things to do than worry about you.’ 

    Emile winces at his inner voice, ‘That’s not true…’ 

    “Hey, Emile! This still your usual stop or were you planning to go somewhere else today?” The bus driver calls back to him, it wasn’t odd for him to know Emile considering the bus was the young therapist’s most used choice of transportation. 

    “Sorry, Greg! I was just lost in thought!” 

    Emile quickly stuffs his phone back into his coat pocket, he walks briskly down the bus aisle, giving Greg a small wave as he steps off. He takes a deep breath and puts on his serious face. 

    “Time to get this day over,” he mumbles as he makes his way into St. Joseph’s Behavioral Health centre.

    Emile puts on a calm smile as he walks inside, the cool air from the air conditioning fanning his face. Emile was a therapist in training, or well that’s what his boss says. He’s a therapist, only the health centre wasn’t hiring new ones yet, so he landed the job of being the psychiatrist's assistant until a therapeutic job was open. 

    Emile couldn’t wait til that day came, he had so many ideas on how to help his future patients. Most of his ideas involved cartoons but others involved other methods like journal entries! He would let his patients tell their stories in a fictive kind of way, giving them a fun time with therapy and a more comfortable way to talk about their problems! 

    “Emile! Finally, thought you were going to be late, follow me.” A feminine voice beckons from across the lobby. Emile looks up and sees the familiar dark face of his boss, her brown eyes crinkling at the edges as she flashes him a smile, her ebony hair let down for once instead of being held back in a tight bun. 

    Emile nods and walks over to her, struggling to keep up with her long strides as she marches down the hall ahead of him. 

    “You seem in a chipper mood, Caroline, did Marcus finally pop the question?” 

    “Very funny, Picani, but no. I’m in a chipper mood because one of my patients agreed to let you sit in during their session! I’ll be asking your input on things they should be doing to handle their depression, I think you’ll get along with them you two act very similar.” 

    Emile blinks his green eyes in shock, he stares at her for a moment waiting for her to laugh and say ‘gotcha!’ But it never came and Emile couldn’t help the huge grin that stretched across his face. 

    “Really!?” Emile squeals. 

    Caroline chuckles as she stops in front of her office door, she turns to look at him and nods. 

    “Really, I finally get to see just how good you think you are, rookie.” 

    Emile stifles his excitement when Caroline opens the door, he takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. ‘I can do this!’ 

    He closes the door behind him once they step in, Caroline’s office was the biggest in the health centre, with a mahogany desk and black leather chairs. Sitting in the chair on the left in front of Caroline’s desk was a man a year or two younger than Emile. He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, not as blue as Roman’s they were a paler shade, while Roman’s looked more like sapphires. 

    The man wore glasses with a black square frame, a light dusting of freckles over his tanned face. Now, Emile wasn’t one to judge anyone on their clothes considering his outfits choices consisted of baggy sweaters and cardigans, but this guy looked like one of those commercial fathers with a standard blue polo, khakis, and a cardigan or in this man’s case, a cat hoodie tied around his shoulders. 

    Emile flashes the man a polite smile and offers him his hand, “Hello! I’m Dr. Emile Picani, do you how do?” His smile widens when the man chuckles at the reference he made. 

    “Spongebob ref, nice! I'm peachy, Dr. Picani! My name’s Patton Holter, it’s nice to meet you!” 

    The two shake hands, Emile’s left wondering where he had heard that name before. 

    Within an hour Emile had learned just about all there is to know about Patton Holter. Patton was born on January 19th, 1985 and he has a twin brother, he was adopted by his two father’s when he was five, and he has been struggling with depression since he was sixteen. His methods of dealing with his depression were taking antidepressants along with talk therapy twice a week. 

    “You could try journaling, my boyfriend has depression and keeping a journal usually helps him, only he makes up characters and uses them as a way to vent,” Emile suggests. 

    He notices a change in Patton’s blue eyes, a type of recognition and malice at the mention of Roman.

    “I’ll give that a try! My brother writes songs, he’s got anxiety problems and writing out depressing lyrics always seems to help him, but I’ll try story-telling. It might be fun!” 

    Pride swells up in Emile’s chest, ‘I’m actually helping someone!’ 

    “Well, seeing as you liked Dr. Picani’s idea we’ll give it a try, Patton. I don’t have any blank journals right now, but I should have one by the time you come in this Friday, is that okay?” Caroline asks. 

    “Of course! I can’t wait for the two of you to read what I write!” 

    Another hour passes before Patton’s session is up, Emile stands when Caroline does, offering his hand to Patton giving him a polite smile. A cold chill races down the young therapist’s spine when he notices how cold Patton’s baby blue eyes looked. His smile was sharp and dangerous instead of the playful smile he had on earlier. 

    “See ya soon, Emile,” Patton says as he tightens his grip on Emile’s hand. 

    Before Emile could reply, Patton was out the door leaving him and Caroline alone in the office. 

    “Well, you’re better than I thought, Picani. Good job!” 

    “Thanks… Do I get to sit in on the next one or?” 

    “Fraid not, kid. You can help the nurses give out medicine and get everyone situated, then after that paperwork that needs to be signed. Think ya can handle that?” 

    “Of course!” 

    Emile and Caroline bid their farewells as he closes the door to her office. Emile stops mid-stride down the hallway and turns to look back. He could have sworn he saw a wisp of grey fabric going around the corner. 

    He shakes his head and chuckles softly to himself, ‘I’m just paranoid after those texts.’ 

    He sets off to go find the nurses, which at this time of day would be in the old building. A few years ago the hospital had a donation big enough to make a new building, where they did most of the important procedures now. But the old building was still in use, and Emile hated it.

    The only way to get to it was through the back entrance of the new building, follow the path (which was in an awful state), and then unlock the side entrance of the old building. And with his recent creepy texts, he really didn’t want to be out of sight. Just in case.

    You’re being paranoid, it’s fine.

    With a deep breath he heads out the door, down the path, trying not to catch his foot on the worst of it. He’d heard of nurses breaking things on the path, and whilst they could just be rumours, he didn’t care to turn into a rumour himself.

    He rounds the bend, and pauses, hearing something behind him rustle. What if…? No, ridiculous. He turns to see a cluster of bushes and chides himself. Of course bushes would rustle. Most plants do, if there’s enough of them.

    He turns back, humming softly to himself as he approaches the side door, only to freeze at the buzz of his phone. He tries to ignore it, but it buzzes again, and he hesitantly reaches for it.

    “I swear I turned you off,” he mutters, but sure enough, it was on, and he had two texts.

    ‘Hey Bunny.’

    ‘Behind you.’

    Emile turns quickly, looking around desperately and tensing up. Plants, plants, door, car…

    “...Damn, they really got me there,” he mutters, “...I knew I was being-”

    A cloth is shoved over his mouth as he gasps, and he internally curses himself for not staying aware as he realises someone is now behind him. Emile struggles weakly, trying to tear the hand holding the cloth away from him, with no luck.

    “Just sleep now, bunny.”

    I...no…

    Emile is out before he can fight back any more.

    Desmond sat in his car with his seat lounged completely back, this was how he normally spent his breaks. Just taking naps inside his car, well he had other ways he spent his breaks but Alvin wasn’t there today. Desmond cracks his left eye open when the radio strapped to his side comes to life. 

    ‘I need any available officer to visit St. Joseph’s Health Centre. A nurse called in saying something about a patient escaping again.’ 

    Desmond quickly snatches his radio and presses the PTT switch, “I’ll go, I’ve got nothing better to do.” 

    ‘You could be in here doing your paperwork, Wickham.’ His boss cuts in. 

    “What I can’t hear you, you’re breaking up, captain!” 

    He shuts his radio off and fixes his seat, Desmond knew he was going to get hell for ignoring the captain later but oh well, it wasn’t like that was anything new. Besides, him taking this gives him the chance to apologize to Emile and let him know that he’ll be picking him up later. 

    Desmond sighs when his phone begins to ring, he accepts the call and puts on a fake cheer. “Captain! Ya know it’s dangerous to be on a cellphone while driving sir.” 

    “You’ve done it plenty of times, so I know you’re not worried about it. You can’t keep putting this paperwork off, Desmond.” 

    “Yeah, I know but the assistant I hired will handle it tomorrow. It’ll get done, now let me handle this issue, alright?” 

    The captain sighs. 

    “You and your brother got into another fight, didn’t you?” 

    “Maybe…” 

    “Alright, fine go make up with him but you bring your ass right back here afterwards, got it?” 

    Desmond rolls his eyes, “Yes sir,” he drawls as he hangs up on his boss. 

    Desmond presses his foot the gas, surging down the residential road, funny this was what led to his and Emile’s argument. ‘I really hope he’s okay…’ The last time they got a call about a patient getting loose Emile had gotten hurt. Getting smacked with a bedpan was not a fun experience for his little brother. 

It wouldn’t have been fun for the patient either if Emile had let Desmond have ‘talk’ with them, but Emile said that it would look bad on his record if he assaulted a mentally ill patient. What? He’s got a temper sue him!  

Desmond slows down when the health centre comes into view, he furrows his brows and narrows his blue and brown eyes. 

“Odd… There aren’t any nurses out looking this time around.” 

He pulls up to the curb and puts the car in park, before he even has a chance to step out, a nurse rushes over from inside the old building. Desmond blinks when her face went from fearful to utterly heartbroken. 

Tears gather in the nurse's brown eyes, “I… I’m so sorry… I-I should have gone out when I saw someone behind him. I'm so sorry!” 

“Hey calm down, alright? I’m sure we’ll find Mr. Stevenson, he never goes far.” 

The nurse lets out a sob, Desmond twitches at the sound but forces himself to calm down. 

“I-It wasn’t a patient! I-I told them… I-It was your brother, somebody took Emile and I couldn’t see their face, I am so s-sorry!” 

All the air was knocked out of Desmond, ‘Somebody took Emile…’ 

Roman paces the living room, his phone clutched tightly in his hands waiting for Emile to send him a text message or to at least call him. He checks the time, fifteen past nine, Emile was supposed to have been home almost an hour ago. 

Roman feels his stomach drop when there’s a knock at the door, he quickly walks over to it and swings it open. 

Desmond stood on the stoop with his hand raised, ready to knock again. Bi-coloured eyes meet blue, they’re both silent for several minutes before Desmond speaks up.