Toacho
The ‘Friend of a Friend’
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Matthias made no further comments on the topic of escape attempts, even as he picked up on the small hints to Jonathon's own character. Currently, with only a single experience to be familiar with, he could not reasonably state if this had been a modest attempt or a full-fledged one; the patient behind it was the only indication of it being the latter. He had heard of other attempts from the other employees while he was still learning the ropes. Mr. Nygma had a tendency to have an odd flair to his and seemed to hardly be willing to let anyone even have the possibility of a consideration that it was anyone other than him. Ms. Ivy was quiet in her escapes, but seldom left without a body count in the double digits.
Similar to the others, he had heard of Mr. Crane's escape attempts. Where they seemed to lack any particular flair or secrecy, they made up for in horror -- something that was clearly a consistency for Mr. Crane. Shortsighted, but nonetheless dangerous.
As Matthias continued to work, keeping his focus on the work at hand, he either did not notice Mr. Crane's words or chose to ignore them. As a few moments of silence crept in between the gap, it would become even less apparent which of the two it was. Of course, it was hardly either, but rather Matthias considering his next words. Finally, he spoke, though hardly with any actual sustenance behind it. "I'm not completely certain, and it is not my place to give false assumptions," He said, neither a true answer or even a false one, but a truth nonetheless. While he heavily assumed it to be Ms. Quinzel, it was best to not rely solely on a few strings of evidence. After all, she may have just been a part of a larger attempt.
Besides, making such an accusation could very easily cause a lapse of trust in the delicate amount of trust that had seemed to form between himself and her over their first two meetings -- were it to ever surface that he had falsely accused her of being the cause of the attempt. While he wanted to maintain the even-more delicate trust between himself and Mr. Crane, he was not quite sure if his own scraps of trust for the man still lingered. He had helped Matthias escape the janitorial closet and, through Matthias' own misplaced trust, had been able to smuggle away a possibly dangerous element to what Matthias assumed would inevitably be part of his next batch of toxins. If any trust remained between the two, Matthias believed it to only be on the side of Mr. Crane. From Matthias' view, there was none remaining on his own end.
Not to mention that Matthias figured the source of the breakout would become a rumor among the patients in no time, just as it had among the doctors and guards already.
Matthias continued to work with the same blank demeanor, only pausing as Crane's hands stiffened, not even glancing up from his work as he resumed once Jonathon's hand stilled. Even that action had a faint oddness to it, as shown by some of his previous interactions with other patients throughout the evening who had similarly jolted at the sharp pain from the antibacterial paste, Dr. Mayflower having often paused, looked up to ensure they were alright, and had even lightly made a half-hearted attempt at a joke with one of his less-severely injured patients earlier to try and lighten the mood a little. That had been earlier, only about an hour after they had arrived to the medical bay. There were no such attempts this time. Just a pause until Jonathon stilled before Matthias returned to his job.
There was no malice behind the somewhat dismissive attitude. Truthfully, Matthias had not even noticed the shift, only the job in front of him and a faint awareness for the conversation between them.
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Again, he made no immediate comment as Jonathon made a remark on the topic of the bottle, he did, however, briefly glance up after finding the two caught in the silence. This did not last long, and his attention was quick to turn back to treating the injury. As Jonathon did finally speak again, Matthias felt his heart sink just faintly at the rejection of his offer to silently return the bottle -- wherever it was -- though he had already braced himself for such disappointment. There were no true benefits to Mr. Crane returning the bottle. Sure, he would likely face mandated repercussions and the two would suffer a blow to their trust, but Mr. Crane would also be closer to his clear goal of creating his toxin. That was, and possibly always had been, Mr. Crane's ultimate goal. Matthias would be foolish to truly hope for anything otherwise at this point in time. So, while it was disappointing for his second assumption to be confirmed, it was expected.
Truthfully, Matthias had been spending a deal of the conversation bracing himself for the inevitable fact that this situation would not be resolved as easily as he would like to hope, but there was also something else on his mind that was keeping him further lost in his thoughts. Their path. He silently cursed himself for not keeping a better track of where they had walked through to reach the medical bay from the janitorial closet; too many winding hallways and seemingly endless corridors. If he had kept better watch, then perhaps this would be a circumstance that would be easier to overcome. After all, they had been together for nearly the entire walk right up until the end where he had approached the medical bay first, the two only being apart for a single minute at most. It was impossible to assume that Jonathon could hide the bottle anywhere significant in that time. Sure, he was more accustomed to the hallways and could likely travel it with more ease than Mayflower, but with the limp and only the short time, there was no way to truly hide it well. It existed, and by all logic and means, it could be found.
His gaze rose once again as Jonathon began his next statement, but Matthias kept his gaze locked this time, even as the uncomfortable question was raised. Truth be told, the question faintly irritated him just as much as it caught him off guard.
There were two paths to take. Accept the offer to pretend he had never made the mistake of allowing Jonathon to take the item, in turn lying and taking on the same depraved role that many others in his step had taken. Alternatively, he could choose to refuse the offer and suffer any consequences from his choice while keeping his own conscious faintly clean. Would it really be clean though? If -- When -- Mr. Crane inevitably came down each of the halls with his toxin, part of it being created from Matthias' own ignorance, would he really be able to still imagine it was not his fault even if others believed he had or had not played a role? Either way, whether others believed him guilty or not, it truly would not matter to anyone but himself. While he wanted to be able to claim it had been unintentional, he was unwilling to stoop to that level. If need be, he would explain himself. Even then, there was a strong chance that the bottle was just a little bit of searching away from him finding it. The best way out of this situation was to ensure it was not even needed and considering his previous assumptions, any worries about how he would explain himself would be unnecessary. The bottle was out there. If he found it, he would return it and be done with.
"Do whatever you see fit," It was a less than polite answer, given faintly out of irritation that Jonathon would even make that offer. Matthias was quickly becoming less and less inclined to carry on the conversation as he continued his job of finishing up the bandage. While his trust had been lost with the vanishing of the bottle, any shreds of respect he had for the former doctor had been lost at the offer.
This attitude seemed to carry through the rest of the conversation, Matthias falling almost completely silent for the remainder of their discussion before his final comment at the end, not even pausing to acknowledge Jonathon had spoken following the statement, the doctor already making his way back to the other side of the room with the scraps of bandages and disinfectant wipes.
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Matthias searched the halls often during the following weeks. Sometimes this was through taking a longer route back from a cell, walking past some of the vaguely familiar halls and looking for any area where the small bottle could be tucked away. Sometimes this was through spending a lunch break wandering with the excuse that he was searching for Tiedrich -- even despite being a couple of text messages away from being able to locate the man. At one point, he had even overheard some other doctors complaining about the coffee maker in the staff room not being cleaned well enough and had used it as an excuse to drop by the janitorial closet and ask for some wipes to clean the tricky spot, of course while briefly taking a short look to the supplies to see if the bottle had somehow made its way back onto the shelf. Of course, all that was there was a different light blue cleaner window cleaner in its old spot, replaced with little mind as if the old one had merely been thrown away by accident and forgotten.
The bottle never surfaced and all that was gained from Dr. Mayflower's efforts was a clean coffee-maker that Matthias never used and a better concept of how the facility was laid out.
Despite his unsaid promise to himself that he would either find the cleaner or explain the situation to his superiors, he eventually stopped searching as much and let it begin to fade from his primary objective. He had, at one point after returning home from work, found himself looking the cleaner up through a simple Google search. It had admittedly taken longer than he would care to say to recall the name of it, but had eventually found himself in a shallow click-hole, staring at the orangish bottle of Totally Awesome All-Purpose Cleaner. It was not purchased as much anymore and had been much more popular about two and half decades ago, but still sometimes found its way onto people's shelves. Lost in thought, he had read through the details of it, skimming over the reviews such as 'perfect for cleaning off grease' or 'best cleaner I have ever used!' As he searched farther, he found the uses. Cleaned grease, windows, counter tops, tile, and a whole lot more that his eyes skimmed right over before finally landing on one particular section; ingredients used.
He found himself pouring over each for hours, a notebook sitting nicely beside his mouse and a pencil resting against his chin between the times when he would either cross out one of the many chemicals, or write a quick note beside them. It was difficult to keep track of, but was surprisingly simple to locate the properties of each. Sodium hypochlorite, also known as liquid bleach, capable of causing physical irritation primarily in skin and eyes, but no records of it causing any sort of extreme reactions in people. A few solvents with similarly lackluster results. The more he searched, the more unlikely it seemed that there would be any truly conclusive results. Much to Matthias' disappointment, it was beginning to seem very apparent that whatever Jonathon had kept the chemical for, it was likely going to be combined with other unknown ingredients for a completely different compound.
It is only as he resolved to finish researching the last few ingredients that he would come upon a rather interesting compound that would make him question this assumption. Florixetine; a compound often used lightly in cleaners during the 1990's that apparently had a main function in making the cleaners a bit more thin so that they sprayed better. It had been just as mind-numbingly ordinary as the other chemicals and Matthias had even begun to set his pen against the paper, ready to cross through it right before his eyes caught on part of the information on the chemical in the link he was in, just as he was about to click the small X on the tab. 'Other uses,' it began, 'often considered the opposite of the SSRI, Fluoxetine, this compound is commonly used as a serotonin-production blocking agent. Also see cyproheptadine.'
He found himself reading over the information a few times, eyebrows furrowed and barely even noticing that the sun had long-fallen, bathing his room in darkness with only the bright computer screen illuminating him and his notes. Even despite being so unsure of his finding, it felt almost wrong to look through, like it was something he was never meant to find. Still, even despite this feeling, he continued. There was no stopping now.
By the end of the night, his newfound information sat neatly tucked inside a notebook in the drawer of his desk. It was not much, only a few pages of copied text from assorted articles and sources with a small hypothesis. Inevitably, there was not enough time in the night to continue his search, but it would be all that he would think about that night and would certainly always be in the back of his mind during every moment of the day. If he could just get a little bit more research in, and figure out the right person to voice his findings to, there was potential to pass on his findings and stop Mr. Crane's toxin right in its tracks. Part of him worried that he was on the wrong track and that he should abandon his research, the other part of him could not help but notice the similarities of the affects of the toxin with that of a severe depletion of the necessary chemical serotonin.
Anxiety was a given, present in practically every person infected with the toxin. Another similar coincidence was how many that survived the ordeal, (With their minds mostly intact,) would develop depression as well as difficulties sleeping. Regardless, it was all too close to ignore. The evidence was there. If he could do a little more research to confirm it actually was there, then he could give this hypothesis to someone with an actual skill for the matter and potentially avoid any future attacks.
So, quietly and while continuing his sessions as normal with almost a dull and monotonous routine, he would always go home to continue his research at night -- never quite exactly sure what he was trying to find but always feeling as if it was right around the corner. After all, Matthias was a psychologist at heart, not a chemist. With only small documents of the effects of the chemical and the little bit of knowledge on the effects of Crane's toxin, it was quickly apparent that this would be a project to crawl along at a snail's pace.
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While he hated to admit it, he needed to invest in a better sleep schedule. He could not recall what time he had finally given in and decided to turn off his monitor the night before, but it clearly was not soon enough, as indicated by the faintly dazed appearance he had worn while riding the train and while trying to confirm to himself that he had, in fact, brought his entire lunch and not forgotten something at home on the kitchen counter in his rushed awakening. After checking about three different times, he finally decided that he had remembered it all before finally recognizing that it had been the tea that was forgotten. Mr. Tetch would be disappointed, but hopefully Matthias could make it up another time and not let the forgotten minuscule but routine reward put a barrier between their trust. If not that, then the least he could do would be to buy a cookie or something from the vending machine for him to avoid any conflicts.
Realistically, he knew that he needed to cut back on his personal project and after recognizing that it was beginning to inversely affect him, he made a simple resolution to push it slightly to the back burner and that he needed to take it slow and steady. Even if he was used to functioning without a large amount of sleep, there was no use trying to speed run it and possibly forget some important detail. Tonight, he would take a much needed break.
As with the other days, he was quick to regain his pleasant disposition, but found it to be quickly challenged as he was informed of the events the day prior. At the start of his lunch break, while he began getting together his papers for Mr. Crane's session, a steady but sharp knock at his door had sounded, causing his to jump at the tone. Following the miniture surprise, his eyes turned to the clock neck, taking notice that it was much too early for the session, off by a bit over half an hour.
"It's Dr. Mayson," A slightly gruff female's voice shouted from the other side before the door gave a soft ding and swung open as he approached, the female doctor letter herself in. However, it seemed she was not here for mere chatter, and would stop just in the doorway. "See me after your lunch, alright?" She asked.
Matthias was admittedly surprised to see her after how distant she had been lately, but was in more shock as he looked at her face, her right cheek covered in a few ugly looking boils and having a slightly red tint to it as if she had been scratching at it. He had noticed that her face was a little more red last time he had seen her, but that had been at least a couple of days ago. It was a little bit of a shock, but he quickly pulled his eyes away from the marks and turned back to her eyes, the woman clearly waiting for an answer. "Of course, is something wrong?"
"Something happened with one of your patients, I'm just giving you a brief before the session." She answered. Before the session.. So something happened with Crane?
From the looks of it, no major breakout attempts had taken place during his absence, his phone would have lit up with texts from Tiedrich or there would be chatter of it in the staff room at the very least. Matthias also doubted that if Mr. Crane had killed another inmate, then it was likely that it would have also surfaced to rumors. Part of him briefly began to reflect back on the bottle and considered if it was going to rise to the topic of conversation. Had it been found? Had they even realized it was taken?
"Were you attacked?" He asked, mind swimming with thoughts and that happening to be the one that escaped. At the very least, the comment would have the chance to lead Dr. Mayson to give him a summary of whatever had occurred so that he could prepare himself if it were the worst.
The female doctor squinted back at him, nose wrinkling slightly in taste as if he had just brought up somebody's dead daughter. He quickly regretted the comment.
"I mean," He said, trying to correct himself. He did not intend to say anything hurtful, the comment had -- partially -- been sincere. "Are you alright? It--" He explained, briefly pointing to his own face. He could sense he was just digging himself a bigger hole. "--It looks painful. Are you okay?"
She only stared back for a second or two before seeming to lose whatever irritation was building up behind her calm disposition, Matthias' eyes even briefly flickering down to notice how tense her hands were just before they relaxed. "Yeah, kid," She finally sighed, closing her eyes briefly and raising a relaxed hand back to her head as she scratched behind her neck, her hand trailing back to her cheek as she began to turn around back towards the door. He noticed her lightly scratch at the wound -- causing him to cringe slightly as he imagined how painful it must be. "Has nothing to do with me. One of your patients tried to off themselves with their shirt during your day out. They're fine now, come see me and I'll give you the rest of your details at the end of lunch. Alright?"
Matthias was shocked. Mr. Crane was clearly the topic of the conversation, even despite the lack of names being dropped. That seemed quite atypical for the former doctor. Sure, he had seemed a little less intense during their sessions than during their first few, but Matthias had figured that was just him becoming familiar with the routine? Not him slipping into an episode of depression which seemed even more out-of-the-normal for the man.
His eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth to try and learn more details, but the other doctor was quick to notice this and snap back before he had the chance. "Look, I'm not going to do it now. I've got a meeting coming up in a few minutes. I'll be back in about thirty and I can give you the brief then, alright? Relax." The final word came out sharp and irritable.
He stopped in his tracks, considering pressing a little further, but quickly settled. He wanted to know what was going on, what exactly had occurred in his absence, but also figured it was best to refrain from trying to argue with her. Eventually, he nodded. "Alright," He finally said.
"Good, see you then." Dr. Mayson said before turning back to the door and leaving, the metal door closing back behind her to leave Matthias in his quiet office. Faintly unsettled with the conversation, he found his way back to his desk, frowning slightly as he pondered over the information. It still struck him odd. Mr. Crane did not seem like the suicidal type in the slightest. Perhaps homicidal, there was no argument there, but nothing about his files indicated that he would try to kill himself?
Letting this cycle through his mind for a few moments, he finally decided to get a little bit of his pre-session preparation, considering it still seemed he would be having the session despite the attempt. Reaching to his bag, he fished through it for some papers before locating the folder and sliding it out of the leather bag, resting it on the table but hesitating as he went to close it and noticed a strange glint deep within the bag. Cautiously, he began moving some papers aside, trying to get a better look at the shiny object, before noticing it was not as bright as he had initially presumed. Confused, he finally saw a bit of small red near the other end of the shiny metal object and was able to recognize the object. The scissors from the breakout.
He paused for a moment, faintly surprised to see the item resting at the bottom of his bag. However, with a little consideration as he picked up the object and set it on the desk, he recognized that he had forgotten to bring it back to the janitor's office during his brief visit about a week ago. In fact, ever since he had wiped them down and then crammed them in his bag once they had arrived at the medical bay, he had completely forgotten about their existence and his plan to return them. He looked at them for a moment before eventually sighing as his eyes turned back to the pre-session work. He would return them another time. With the paperwork to be done currently, the later meeting with Dr. Mayson, a lunch somewhere in between there, and later the session itself, Matthias figured that his plate was full enough and that he would need to put that aside for a later date. So, with little gusto, he opened one of his drawers and dropped them inside before closing it so he could find them and remember he forgot to return them all over again another day.
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It was unsettling to watch. The footage flickered occasionally and had a gritty quality, as expected by such an old camera as the one that had filmed the entire ordeal. It was, perhaps, the nonchalance of the entire situation that bothered him the most as he watched Mr. Crane twist the shirt until it was thin and rope like, then tying it to form a slip knot and trying to pull on it. Matthias could not help but feel somewhat uncomfortable as he watched the situation, briefly looking back to Dr. Mayson who looked a bit less than interested with a folder tucked in her hand and her eyes busy skimming over that rather than the footage. Hesitantly, Matthias returned his gaze to the video and watched as Mr. Crane eventually ceased his efforts and began taking a new approach.
Matthias closed the laptop as he watched Jonathon tie the short to the sink and begin to lower himself, the doctor finding himself unable to finish the video. Even despite the lack of blood or the fact that he already knew that Mr. Crane had not gone through with the action, it was still a shocking matter and he simply could not find it in him to continue watching. The most disturbing part was how impartial Mr. Crane had appeared through the brief segment that Matthias had viewed, almost as if he was carrying some sort of odd determination to strangle himself. There was no typical sorrow or disappointment that a lot of depressed patients tended to carry, which lead Matthias to be even more inclined to believe this was not exactly a suicide attempt.
"So?" Dr. Mayson asked, still skimming over the folder in her hands.
The comment faintly irritated Matthias. "So what? I am not sure what exactly you are looking for here. Commentary or a professional opinion on the matter?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and keeping his voice steady.
Dr. Mayson seemed unbothered by his question and after finishing reading over the document, passed it over to Dr. Mayflower so that he could read over it. It was the comments from another doctor of Mr. Crane's. It claimed that he was heavily depressed with a chance of attempting this again as well as the fact that he was on medication. Briefly, Matthias skimmed over the medication that he was on, recognizing it as being a rather mild one that was often suggested to depressed patients. Nothing out of the ordinary, but also obviously not strong enough for any actual results -- though Matthias already had a suspicion that perhaps it was not even necessary in Mr. Crane's case.
After a minute or two of reading over the folder, he eventually spoke while finishing the last bit of skimming. "I'll try to talk to him about it and see the reasoning behind it. Something is off about this, he has never displayed any sort of directly suicidal behavior." Matthias claimed, closing the folder and looking back up, beginning to hold it out to return it to her before she held a hand up, shaking her head to refuse it and signalling that he was supposed to keep it. In turn, he tucked it inside his bag for the time being and stood up.
"Not my place to say, make sure to turn in your records of today's meeting and make a note that it's in the important section, we're trying to evaluate what is going on and have it resolved soon. As much as I hate to tell you this tip, you know the section at the top of the files that is labeled 'receiver' that you always leave blank?" She asked.
Matthias briefly wondered if he was actually supposed to leave that area blank on each of the files. It seemed to have been fine thus far, plus Dr. Mayson had been the one to tell him directly to do so. "Uhm," He said, "Yeah?"
"Write Dr. Caster and Dr. Mayson on there, it'll go through faster and won't be left in processing for a week or so like the other files." She said, scratching at the side of her face again as she approached the door. It looked slightly more raw than half an hour ago as if she had been scratching it a lot. "Only use it if directed, please don't just slap it on any random file so that it get's through faster, you'll put us both behind on our work. Understand?" She asked, Matthias following her to the door with his bag tucked over his shoulder again.
He nodded. "Okay," He understood the need to rush the file through. While he wanted to hope for otherwise, it was easy to become distrustful of any changes in behavior or attitude in the patients, as it could always be part of a larger plot or plan. Still, he couldn't help but be faintly rattled by the change. After all, a change for a patient is also a change for their doctor when one considers the adaptions that the later must make to fit their patient's needs. "Is there anything else?" He asked as they reached the door.
Dr. Mayson shook her head. "No, just make sure to be thorough and we'll try to get it sorted out within the next few days."
He nodded and exited the room, Dr. Mayson shutting it a few seconds later and it clicking locked, just as she tended to keep it, while Matthias began down the hall towards his office. He kept a faintly less than relaxed grip on the strap of his bag while he thought and walked the small distance, trying to piece together his steps for the session when Mr. Crane arrived. It was unlikely that Matthias could walk him to the session, as there was simply not enough time to reach the medical bay -- it being mentioned in the file that Mr. Crane was still there. So, he resolved to return to his office and wait for the other.
He was still faintly unsettled by the footage and could not get that out of his head. It was disturbing to watch, Mr. Crane going about the motions so calmly and with so little regard. It was like he was just performing them autonomously. Matthias could simply not figure out a reason behind the actions.
Dr. Mayflower reached to the collar of his shirt and lightly tugged the badge and lanyard out from under his cardigan and pressing it to the scanner just as he noticed a group beginning to round the corner towards the offices. He paid little mind, only briefly noticing the presence of the standing gurney as the door closed behind him and he tucked the lanyard back under his cardigan and began making his way towards the other side of the room to set his bag down. However, he stopped as he heard a steady knock at his door only a few moments later. He furrowed his eyebrow and glanced at the clock above the door while dropping his bag off at the desk. Well, it was time for the session, but he doubted they would have just appeared out of nowhere?
He returned to the door and fished his badge out once more to open it. As he opened the door, he was more confused as he looked at the same group he had just spotted a few seconds prior. Two guards and a patient strapped to an upright gurney with their head lulled slightly, making it difficult to see their face from they messy shield of sandy brown hair. As Matthias considered the evidence; the time, this patient's vaguely skeletal appearance; it became faintly more clear that this was not a mistake.
Of course, that raised a few more questions, particularly that of why his patient was currently in such a state. Sure, if Mr. Crane had injured himself severely during his attempt past the point that Matthias had refused to continue watching, then that could perhaps be reasonable -- but it was a stretch. It was more the fact that it seemed to be an ordeal for Mr. Crane to support his own head was what concerned Dr. Mayflower the most. Of course, the file had claimed that he was on a new medication, but it was nothing that even had the potential to put him in a state like this. Matthias had seen that class of antidepressant be recommended to countless patients before, none of which had ever experienced symptoms more severe than the typical bout of small headaches or even a few rare losses of appetites. Never anything this severe.
"Accidents with drugs?" Dr. Mayflower repeated, dumbstruck by the lack of a true explanation. "Was his medication replaced with a horse tranquilizer or something?"
Matthias reached into his jacket's pocket and retrieved his phone, flicking on the flashlight and approaching Jonathon. He first tried to look through the mess of hair by tilting his own head down slightly to peer under the curtain of hair and trying to check his eyes, seeming to be trying to avoid skin contact. Eventually, with a slight sigh, he would give up on this approach and reached to his own hair, pulling his hair tie out and swiftly using it to pull Jonathon's hair back behind his head. While it was not his best work, it was quick and enough to keep it out of the way for the time being.
With it out of the way, it was a bit of a shock to see the dark bruises all around Jonathon's neck, but Matthias had anticipated some sort of marks to be left over from the incident after he had viewed the film. After all, Jonathon had not exactly been gentle with the makeshift noose. That much was evident.
Matthias did not linger on that and chose to focus on the work at hand. "Look at me," He said, keeping the phone light out of the way as he checked Jonathon's eyes, using his other hands to pull the glasses up to avoid blinding the man during the brief checkup. After a second or two of taking a check of his eyes' current status, he would raise the light at foot or so away from him and try to examine if the pupils shrank. When next to nothing changed after a couple seconds of holding the light, he sighed and lowered the light and flicked it back off before tucking it in his pockets and returning Jonathon's glasses to their correct position.
Matthias stepped back, thinking for a moment before giving another small sigh and using sweeping a couple of stray strands of his own hair out from his own sight before looking to the guards briefly. "Guys," He began, tone soft but disappointed. "We're supposed to be better than this." He sounded like a mother critiquing a child. Not mad, just disappointed.
Dr. Mayflower returned to the door, scanning his badge after it had closed during the period of inactivity. He put his arm by the sensor to hold it open and then continued. "Do you know if a blood test has been conducted yet? If not, could one of you bring me the kit and give the sample to the lab?" He asked the guards, trying to put aside his displeasure with the situation. Of course, if one had not been conducted yet, then he could always call for a doctor and have it checked by one of them. However, that implied that he had any respect remaining for the doctors when they seemingly struggled with even administering a simple oral pill to a patient. It was almost as if they had lost the medication and decided to substitute it out with hard liquor.
He held the door open as the guards either guided Jonathon in or the patient found his way in himself, Matthias even helping him if necessary. It seemed that any plans that Dr. Mayflower had for this sessions had already been thrown out the window by this experience -- a less than ideal situation. On the bright side, it did not seem that Jonathon was of enough mind to be as skilled at changing the topics of any conversations, but Matthias was also unsure about that part. There was always the faint concern that this was just part of some plan, but even then, Matthias did not have strong faith in that assumption.
After Jonathon had entered, Matthias hesitated before closing the door, uncertain about how this session would be proceeding or even if it was ideal to proceed. Still, Dr. Mayflower was his therapist. It is his job to try and help Jonathon get through any problems. Well -- this certainly qualified as a problem.
Even after closing the door, Matthias did not immediately sit down, still standing by the door with a faintly confused expression as he tried to plan his next steps around this obstacle. "How are you feeling, Mr. Crane?" He finally asked, trying to gauge how severe it was. "You seem a little hazy, how are you doing?" He asked, making sure to provide a basis as he had often been forced to do with patients who were either of less mental capacity or that he suspected to be in a daze. He felt slightly bad taking this approach with the other man, but figured that if Mr. Crane was more aware than he seemed, he'd forgive him sooner or later.
Matthias had not been given a chance to fully prepare for the session, having only had time to complete the paperwork and partially finish his lunch before he had gone to Dr. Mayson's office with the plans to finish his lunch and tidy up in the few minutes before Jonathon's session. In turn, the desk was slightly cluttered with much of the pre-session paperwork laying across it with some pens, a half-finished Tupperware of rice and cut-up tomatoes along with an apple sitting at the side and half a water bottle from the vending machine, and finally his bag that he had set on the desk after entering. Additionally, depending on his placement, it would not be difficult to find a file organizer of his other sessions from the day sitting under his desk, waiting for the final file before he could turn them all in at the end of the day.
Eventually, after lingering by the door for a little bit, Matthias would approach wearily. It was clear that the doctor was still observing Mr. Crane's physical state, as while he came over, he would not look Jonathon in the eyes, instead focusing briefly on his shoulders before turning his attention to his shirt. Matthias kept his arms folded as he watched, eyebrows still furrowed as he seemed to be counting something on one of his hands, just barely visible out from behind his folded arms. He counted how many times he watched Jonathon inhale and exhale, gauging it by the rise and fall of his shirt. He was looking particularly for any abnormal slowness to it. While it was not an ideal test, it was enough to tell that Jonathon's breath rate was a bit lower than the average person. Not to the point where Matthias was concerned that he would fall over and die at any second, but it was very close to bordering a dangerous level.
"Mr. Crane, could I get you to do something for me?" Matthias finally asked, breaking the silence as he went to the other side of the room and fished a notebook out from the filing cabinet, pulling a piece of paper out from it and then placing it back inside the drawer and closing it before returning to the desk and taking one of the pens, moving the food and the bag aside to make room for Jonathon as he set the paper and pen down. "Could you draw something for me? Preferably something simple, you can pick whatever topic you want." Matthias stated. Again, he felt bad taking such a childish approach, but knew that it would be the easiest way to gauge a more detailed sense of Mr. Crane's sense of coordination.
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