Handle with extreme care.

It was early morning in The Asylum. Light poured in through the barred windows, onto Søren, who was lying in his single bed. The light wasn't the warm, yellow light he remembered from the outside. It was cold, grey light and caused his tired eyes discomfort,unable to move his bound wrists to shield his eyes. He shuffled into and upright position, blanket falling to his lap. How many days had he been here? Thirty? Fifty? What did it even matter? His friends...they were..outside, without him. How could he protect them when they were so far away? He clenched his fists and gripped the sheets of his bed. Frustrated beyond believe, but there was nobody but himself to abuse and blame for it. The Doctors wouldn't see him anymore, the nurses came in sparingly. He tugged at the leather that kept his fists against the bed and away from people's faces judgingly. He could pull them away, he just had to pull reeeeally hard...right? Søren tugged painfully at the binds and clenched his teeth, trying in desperation to free himself. Fuck it. His wrists flopped down and he went limp, the light growing stronger and more painful.

He had heard news, whispering outside his door, of a new Doctor that would be assigned to him. He smirked. No doctor could fix him because there was nothing wrong with him. He lowered himself down against the pillow and lay, staring at the ceiling. Even if it took another 50 days he would be free, even if he had to kill this Doctor like he killed that man...or perhaps violence was not the right course of action, was it possible that there was another way to get what he wants? He had always been a good liar, people had said his smile could buy him anything he wanted. Perhaps if he held back his frustrations he could coax his way out of this hell hole.

Suddenly, Søren could hear the click of the lock on his door. Breakfast? He couldn't smell anything rotting so it couldn't be. He shifted his head to stare at the door and waited for whoever it was to make their entrance.

During his so far quite short time at the Asylum (as the people here liked to call it) Berwald had not been assigned specifically to a patient until now. He would deny it to anyone with a grunt, but he was quite nervous on the inside as he walked along the corridor to the patient's room.

This place was not as glorious as Dagens Nyheter had made it seem. Patients (or subjects as they were sometimes called) were locked in and not given much personal care. Berwald was quite shocked by some of the things he had encountered. But as he saw these poor souls around him he could just not leave and return to Sweden. This patient that was assigned to him, maybe Berwald could help him. Maybe he could listen and mend the wrongs. Maybe he could save his life and undo even a little part of the guilt he felt for his mother and father.

His eyes fell on the door with the right number. That prickling feeling of nervosity came over him again, making him feel a little worried. He had gone over the patient's files many a time and he knew that this was one of the worst cases this Asylum had seen. There were reasons he needed a new one, after all.
With a grunt Berwald opened the door and walked inthrough it.

The sight that met him was far more unpleasant than he had imagined. The patient, Søren, seemed to have been strapped to his bed for quite som time, red marks covering his wrists and ankles from where he had tried to get away. A wave of pity washed over him. This man needed help. His help.

"Hrrn 'llo, m' name 's B'rwald 'nd 'm yer new doct'r."

Søren didn't make the effort to sit upright for Berwald. He didn't even consider it necessary to respond to the greeting, just to raise an eyebrow at the peculiar accent. He felt a sudden sense of repulsion flow through him as he saw the look of pity on the strange man's face. Pity wasn't something Søren was used to in this place, he had been judged and humiliated but never pitied. He couldn't process why Berwald would feel the need to look at him that way, was it another one of those "Doctor mind tricks" that came into play during his previous sessions. After intently studying the other man's face for a sign that he was playing him for a fool, he gritted his teeth and spat out a reply.

"Are ya stupid? Of course yer my freakin' Doctor. Who else would ya be?"

He struggled against the binds on his wrists and ankles, trying to turn away from Berwald. Not fully aware of the aggression that was welling up inside of him.

"It's too early in the mornin' with a session. Come back later, or better yet-- don't come back. I'm not gonna tell ya anythin'. Stupid lying cowards, you doctors.."

He kept his head tilted away from Berwald, scowling menacingly at the wall. Not wanting to face another long proceedure of sessions and tests.

Berwald's eyes followed the patients movements as he struggled and listened to the words he was spitting out. There was no trust or hope in his voice, something that Berwald could understand just from having spent time as a doctor at this place. And the file had told him that Søren Andersen had already been through a lot here.

He took a couple of steps forward, closing the door behind him and pulling out the chair next to the wall. In a wave of uncertainty he stared at the floor for just a little while before sitting down and turning his gaze to his patient again, trying not to wear what had become his trademark scowl over the years.
"'s noon 'n 'm onl' here t' chat a littl'."

Berwald had a theory. A theory that all these people really needed was someone who would really listen and get to know them. He was aware it was utopistic and that if it wasn't he was still far from the best person for doing that, being as socially awkward as he is. But, he still couldn't help trying.

Søren, still confused by the softness of the voice being used and the almost genuine looking concern in his facial expression, took to remaining defensive. Lies. It was all lies. This was a new trap, he pretends to be a big ol' softy and then he cuts off his medication and starts making him the bad guy. Søren was going to try all of his tricks to keep this man from getting close to him, being prickly would just be the start.

"Who the fuck cares what time it is? You disturbed me. I don't work by your schedule and I sure as hell don't fucking chat to people I don't know!" he barked at Berwald as he strained at his tethers. He just wanted to be alone, if he was alone, he could solve his problems.

Berwald was quiet for a little while, letting the angry words of his patient sink in, For that little while the wall was a very interesting sight, despite being completely white.

After a deep sigh he replied;
"we c'n do th's accordin' t' your sched'le 'f ye want t'. And that's 't, I want t' get to know ye. I..."
He fell silent again, not entirely sure on how to continue. He wanted to tell Søren he knew exactly how bad this place was, and that he wasn't like them. That he wasn't like the other doctors. That he'd honestly do everything he could to help him. But he couldn't really, could he? And it's not like this Søren would believe him. He had to... He had to get him to trust him and prove that he was different without ever saying it.

"...I care."

For a moment, Søren angrily glares up at the wall, wondering what it is that was worth staring so hard at. He almost wanted to lash out at the wall, dent it or chip it so Berwald had something to be looking at. Something that was apparently more important than Søren.

Ugh, schedules. He hated them. How could this guy not understand? He didn't WANT to be talked to, any time would be a total inconvinience for him. He was very clearly busy planning his escape from this place. These doctors only served to distract him from his goal. He had to make this giant bear of a doctor believe he did not need to be counselled. In fact..perhaps he could convince him that he was ready to leave. He frowned. It would be difficult to convince him after that last outburst. However...maybe....was it possible that a little eyelash fluttering and hand touching would be enough to coax the man? Søren had a knack for guessing any given man's sexuality and Berwald seemed....to be leaning towards....he seemed gay.

He turned to look at Berwald when he spoke those two simple words. His expression softening and wide blue eyes taking him in and almost absorbing the bigger man's image into his mind. He remained silent, his hands no longer pulling against his restraints. He simply nodded and twitched his mouth, a small shy smile forming at the corners.