Moonvale Mental Hospital

Mapleview, North Carolina.
November 25th, 1988.
4:09 P.M.

Quite honestly—before landing an interview at Moonvale Mental Hospital—Aravali was beginning to suspect that his luck would simply run out.

After all, Aravali Chavan had only just graduated from college less than a year ago, and while he was fully qualified to work in the realms of psychiatric care, few were eager to hire on a doctor with no experience under his belt.

On this day—as he drove smoothly through the small town of Mapleview, cruising in his black Oldsmobile Cutlass—he repeatedly glanced down at the map lying mostly unfolded in the passenger seat, a small map of the town where he’d marked the route to the mental hospital with a black marker. It wasn’t far from his apartment, and he knew the town of Mapleview like the back of his hand, having lived here for nearly fifteen years—but, nevertheless, Moonvale Mental Hospital was a rather isolated place, and he’d never visited it before, so he thought it best to write down the route regardless.

Aravali let out a sigh, slowing to a stop at a red light and idling at the empty intersection, resisting the urge to turn his rearview mirror toward himself. He barely spared it a glance, surveying what he could see of his smooth caramel complexion and his black wavy hairs, a few of them hanging just above his eyes, and he knew he looked perfectly fine—decent enough for an interview. He had on a sleek navy blue button-up and pants to match, and he was certain he’d come off as a clean, polite, and professional sort of person, just as he always did, but even still, he couldn’t seem to shake the slight touch of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

With the recent passing of his mother—and with the loss of his part time job at the diner—he was rather close to losing his apartment, and this job was something he very much needed. Besides—he’d lived a rather normal and privileged life, and he’d always wanted to strive for a profession that helped those whose luck was lesser than his own. Now, at long last, it seemed he would finally reach that goal.

It wasn’t just a necessity; it was a desire as well.

Aravali released a heavy breath, his shiny brown eyes resting on the road ahead, just across the intersection as the sky above seemed to thicken in its gray and blue overcast. The road across from him stretched off into the distance, vanishing into a thick, endless collection of trees, spanning away from town and leading off to parts unknown.

That route, according to the map, would take him to Moonvale.

The light turned green, and he inhaled once again, driving steadily onward.

“Here we go,” he murmured faintly.

As he drove, coasting beneath the traffic light and rolling into the woods, a slow, gentle sprinkle of rainfall began to spot along his windshield, and he silently tried to force all feelings of doubt and anxiety away. Truthfully, he was rather nervous about seeking this professional job; he’d only ever worked part time positions in order to help his mother with bills during his time in college. This was the first time he’d ever sought a real career, and he knew there were many things to learn, and many adjustments to be made once he found himself working there. He almost felt as if he might do something wrong by accident—but, he shook the thought away, driving deeper into the woodlands and resolving that he was simply getting cold feet.

After all, everyone felt nervous about pursuing a goal they’d never attained before. Chasing after something without ever succeeding in it before would make anyone feel vulnerable to accidents—but, just like everyone else in the world, he’d just have to bear it and press onward, he’d have to try to make as few mistakes as possible, and he’d simply have to learn from the ones that might manage to transpire regardless.

As the rain steadily grew thicker, he powered on the windshield wipers, and he found himself driving on a narrower road, the yellow line in the middle now gone without a trace. The Cutlass began to cruise at an incline, and he drove up a long, expansive hillside, just before emerging in a clearing past the endless woodlands.

Then—it came into view directly ahead, a single building that looked older than ever, a stone sort of structure with several vines crawling along the corners, tall rectangular windows with thin black bars covering them, and at the top of the asylum was a single rounded structure, which he guessed might have been a balcony. The ancient building stood in the center of the clearing, surrounded on every side by expanses of grass and trees, and he was just able to see a round pavilion very far off to the right, bordering the woods and secure behind a fence comprised of more black bars, which appeared to wrap around the majority of the property.

The only area unimpeded by the fence was the gravel road leading directly up to the asylum’s entrance, and above this road was a single curved archway with a few thin vines wrapped around it, reading MOONVALE MENTAL HOSPITAL.

Aravali glanced up at it briefly before driving slowly under it, glimpsing around and seeing no paved parking lot nearby. Instead, a stretch of gravel resided to the right, and he carefully pulled there, rolling onto the rocks and easing to a stop, then putting the car in park.

He turned the keys, powered the car off, and sighed, hesitating for a moment longer. His hand rested on the steering wheel, hanging loosely from it as he turned his head, staring out the driver window and eyeing the white double-doors at the front of the building. The narrow road seemed wider the closer it drew to the entrance, and in front of the doors was a concrete stoop with a rooftop over it, a rooftop that doubled as a second-floor balcony, a few plants having grown along the side of it, and a single vine hanging off. He could see that some of the windows were lit, but there was only one other car parked here—a small blue car, a Ford Escort, sitting at the edge of the gravel stretch—and, judging by the cracked, unkempt, and shrubbery-invaded state of the asylum’s exterior, he guessed that this place didn’t have many staff members taking care of the building or the property around it. If not for the lit windows and the archway, he might’ve assumed he’d driven to the wrong place, having accidentally arrived at a condemned building.

“No accounting for lawn care,” Aravali mumbled to himself, popping his door open and stepping out of the car, emerging in the drizzle of rainwater.

He pocketed his keys and marched across the gravel, stepping onto the pavement and strolling up to the double-doors. The doors each had tall, narrow windows of thick glass, and he leaned slightly closer, trying to peek inside, though he was unable to make anything out clearly.

Then, the doors shifted, and one of them opened, a woman peering out at him.

The woman had a pale, smooth face with a rather expressionless visage, big hazel eyes that were as shiny as they were unreadable. Her smooth black hair was tied back rather tightly beneath her clean white nurse’s hat, and she wore a white outfit to match it, buttoned up and harboring two pockets on either side of her chest.

“Mr. Chavan?” the woman tried to guess, her voice both soft and stern.

Aravali nodded. “Yes… I spoke on the phone with Elaine. She had me down for an interview today. I’m a bit early, but… is she available?”

The woman cracked a hint of a half-smile, making a nod.

“I am,” she told him, reaching out from behind the door and offering her hand to him. “Elaine Morgan. Pleasure.”

“Oh… hello,” Aravali said, smiling and returning her handshake. “Sorry, I didn’t expect… ahm… I thought you were a nurse.”

“I’m the orderly,” Elaine explained, stepping back and opening the door wider. “And… if anyone else was able to schedule interviews, I’m sure they would have. But… as of now… it all falls on me. Come on in.”

Aravali nodded again, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He paused for a second to observe the interior—a long, wide hallway directly ahead, a large set of stairs off to the left, and an open doorway to the right, echoing a soft string of music—and then, his eyes landed back on her.

Elaine turned and started down the hallway, waving for him to follow, and he shot her a curious look as he began to stroll along behind her, a strange thought occurring to him.

“Sorry… did you say you’re the orderly?” Aravali asked.

“Yes… I did,” Elaine replied simply, still walking onward.

“ The orderly?” Aravali tried to clarify as the two of them marched down the hall. “As in… the only one here?”

“Yes,” Elaine confirmed, reaching the end of the hall and turning left.

They found themselves walking down a longer hallway of the same white and manila color as the last, and Aravali gave her another odd look from behind.

“I thought the orderly were meant to…” he uttered. “Well… I thought they were just meant to manage and supervise certain things. And… I also thought there’d be more than one of them.”

“Ordinarily, there are,” Elaine explained without stopping. “But… we’ve found ourselves vastly understaffed in the past week, Mr. Chavan. I’m not just doing an orderly’s job anymore. I’m doing a lot of different jobs now.”

Aravali narrowed his eyes at the back of her head. “What about the other doctors? Or…”

Elaine stopped at the last door on the left, placing her hand on it and turning around to face him.

“I won’t sugarcoat it,” she said. “I’m the only staff member left. If you choose to start working here… then you’ll be the only doctor here.”

Aravali stood still, staring at her and feeling as if he might’ve misheard.

Elaine, reading his expression, simply let out a breathless little laugh.

“I know. It’s hard to believe,” she said, turning the doorknob and easing it open. “I assure you, I’ve done everything I can to fix these problems and to gather assistance from elsewhere… but you’d be surprised how few people care about the state of the local loony bin.”

“What… that can’t… that can’t be right,” Aravali stammered, making a slight shake of the head. “Who prepares the patients’ meals, then…?”

“I do,” Elaine replied.

“Who’s cleaning the place?”

“I am.”

“Who manages the patients’ medication?”

“I do.”

“Who’s administering their treatment?”

“At the moment? No one,” Elaine told him, stepping into the room. “Why do you think you’re here, Mr. Chavan?”

She walked into the room, and he gave her another peculiar look before following her inside.

This room was a small, cozy office, a clean and spotless desk in the center, a single window behind it, and a comfortable armchair in front of it, not much else. Elaine sat in the rolling chair behind the desk, and Aravali sank into the armchair, scratching along his jaw and feeling somewhat puzzled.

He’d never worked in his sought-after profession before, and he wasn’t entirely sure what was considered normal here—but this, a mental hospital being staffed only by one single orderly, couldn’t have been normal by anyone’s standards.

Elaine sat properly upright in her chair, her fingers intertwined and her eyebrow slightly perched, surveying his vexed expression for a moment.

“I’m supposed to be asking you the questions,” she remarked. “But… I imagine you have a few on your own mind now.”

“Well… yes,” Aravali uttered with a laugh. “How did this place come to be almost entirely unstaffed? Where did everyone go?”

Elaine released a heavy cloud of breath. “Oh, that was… a large variety of things. A few people moving away suddenly, one person leaving to tend to an ill family member, one suffering an accident, one retiring… it was a lot of happenstance at once.”

“Just bad luck,” Aravali murmured, and she nodded with confirmation.

“Well, as bad as that luck is… I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, Mr. Chavan,” Elain elaborated. “The workload is not overwhelming the way things are now. There are only five patients admitted to Moonvale at this time. It might seem ridiculous that one orderly is managing an entire mental hospital… but, when the hospital is only housing five, it suddenly becomes possible to do.”

“Oh,” Aravali muttered, nodding and feeling much less surprised all the sudden. “Well… that certainly makes a lot more sense now. For a moment, I thought you were a super woman.”

Elaine flashed a curt smile. “If this place reached full capacity right now, I promise you… that would be the point where I actually consider throwing in the towel. Forever.”

Aravali chuckled.

“Now.” Elaine cupped her hands fully atop the desk, straightened her posture more, and let out a breath, giving him a serious sort of look. “First and foremost… the main thing that we need here right now is for someone to resume the regular sessions. Therapy sessions for the patients. Are you prepared to do that?”

“Absolutely,” Aravali affirmed.

“Have you ever dealt with the mentally ill before?”

“Not… professionally. But I’m fully qualified to do so. Rather eager to get started, to be honest. I’m fully confident I can handle this job.”

“All right… but the therapy isn’t the only aspect of the job,” Elaine told him firmly. “That will be your main job here… but working in Moonvale comes with a lot of additional surprises. Every now and then, once in a blue moon, a patient may experience a psychotic break… in which case, they will need to be calmed, coaxed, and possibly sedated and restrained. Are you prepared to deal with that aspect of the job as well?”

“Yes. Anything that needs to be done,” Aravali agreed.

Elaine stared, her eyes narrowing just the slightest bit, studying him astutely.

“You don’t strike me as the type who’s seen a lot of violence in his life,” she commented.

Aravali paused, his mouth drifting agape, and he made a mild shrug. “Not really… no. But I’m not exactly weak or unfit, either. I can adapt to whatever happens. As long as I know the protocol, I can enact it.”

“You can’t hesitate,” Elaine stated. “If you see a patient about to harm themselves, or harm someone else—you absolutely cannot hesitate to stop them. Hesitance will be a natural response for a nonviolent sort of person—but this is a special place, and it has its own special needs.”

“I understand,” Aravali told her honestly. “Protecting them comes first. Absolutely.”

Elaine paused again, seeming to examine him rather intently.

“Glad to hear you say so,” she said softly. “And I do hope you mean it.”

“With all sincerity,” Aravali replied genuinely.

“Well… all right, then,” Elaine uttered, nodding at him. “I think it’s safe to say you’re hired… but I need to give you the basic rundown of a few things now.”

“Of course.”

“All right… you’ll start at nine in the morning and clock out at five in the afternoon every day, and I do need to point out that this is available as a live-in position. Would you like to stay on the premises, or would you prefer not to?”

Aravali opened his mouth, hesitating and scratching along his cheek. “Uhm… I don’t really need to stay here…”

“Not a problem,” Elaine said, swatting the air and continuing.

Aravali nodded along as she explained the regular scheduling and where the patients were allowed to go outside, which was mainly anywhere behind the fence.

“Okay… and the patients here now are Raven, Donna, Icarus, John, and Crowe,” Elaine divulged. “Raven is a fairly withdrawn young woman suffering from PTSD. Donna is a middle-aged woman, and she’s as sweet as can be, but she is diagnosed with Multiple-Personality Disorder. Icarus goes by Iggy—he likely won’t even answer to Icarus—and he’s a nice enough guy, though his drug experiments in the past have done a number on his mind. John is a schizophrenic, and he’s generally a fairly interesting and mostly agreeable individual, at least on his good days. And Crowe…”

She paused, glancing down and tapping her fingers along the desk.

“Well… he’s hard to explain,” Elaine mumbled. “He’s our newest patient… got a lovely accent… but he’s a bit eccentric, and… he’s convinced that he can see into the future. Crowe is… a jokester. He always likes fun and games… but he’s very helpful here. I’m sure you’ll see what I mean before long.”

“I see.”

“Yes… and he’s also been earning day passes and not using them. He can use a day pass to leave the facility whenever he likes, but he doesn’t often have a ride, and I don’t always like lending my car out to him, so… he might try to solicit you into being his taxi service sometime. Fair warning.”

“All right. Am I permitted to take him somewhere…?”

“If you like,” Elaine said with a nod and a shrug. “That’s up to you.”

“Okay,” Aravali understood. “Is there anything else I should know…?”

“Well… just that their sessions usually involve a lot of review and understanding,” Elaine explained. “Understanding their disorders, asking them questions, and trying to gauge if their situation has worsened or improved over the past week. But… for the first sessions you have with them… I would recommend playing a bit of the getting-to-know-you game first. Opening up to a new person might be rather difficult for them. So… it might be better if you tried to make yourself into something of a friend to them first.”

“I can do that,” Aravali replied. “Not a problem.”

“In fact… they’re all in the lounge right now,” Elaine mumbled thoughtfully, hooking a finger over her mouth. “You could go and get to know them a little today, if you wanted.”

“I’d be happy to,” Aravali told her honestly.

“Okay… you’ll start tomorrow morning, and we can give you the full tour then,” Elaine surmised. “But… it’s fairly simple. The lounge and a couple of offices are down here. The cafeteria is on the second floor, and living quarters and my office are on the third. Easy enough to remember—”

A distant echo cut her off, and her eyes flickered over to the door behind Aravali, her expression flattening as she let out a sigh.

Another muffled scream sounded from across the first floor, and Aravali sat straighter up in his seat, making a face and turning around.

“Well.” Elaine nodded sideways, frowning and reaching her feet. “Sounds like you might get to see some action already.”

Feeling suddenly urgent, Aravali stood swiftly, Elaine marching around him and pulling the door open. The two of them stepped out of the office and marched briskly down the hallway, emerging at the entryway to the lounge, the one parallel with the back hall.

When they entered the lounge—Aravali noticed many things at once.

It was a long, wide, and rectangular space, the wallpaper a dark, faded yellowish color, a few of the tall barred windows facing the field with the pavilion outside, currently under rainfall. In the far right corner was a large television playing Family Ties, and across the room was a radio on a small nightstand, now powered off. A couch and two chairs were positioned around the TV, a table and chairs near the windows—and a few people were near the windows as well.

A dark-haired young man with a slender build was taking a gentle step back from another patient, his arm outstretched, giving the other man a cautious sort of look. The patient adjacent from him was a bit older, with a rounded face and a goatee, his expression warped with anger as he slowly drew closer, a woman with long hair sitting and watching worriedly from the corner, and a man of about the same age ogling the situation from the couch that sat against the wall farthest left. The man on the couch had dark scraggly hair messily combed back, and he sat beside a young woman with neater hair, black and slicked back stylishly, the young woman slowly rising from her seat and glaring at the two patients in the center of the room.

The young man with the dark black hair—Crowe—kept his hand outstretched, giving the man across from him a mild shake of the head.

The man across from him—John—bared his teeth and took a deep breath, brandishing a vase that he’d taken from the corner table.

“C’mon, you know better,” Crowe said gently, raising his brows, his eyes a translucent blue.

John cocked his head, adjusting his grasp on the vase and stepping closer.

“It’s not what you want , is it?” Crowe asked him, tilting his head, his voice low and soft. “It’s just what they want—but they won’t get quieter just because you fall in line. Tell the voices to shove it.”

“ John ,” Elaine called loudly from the doorway in the corner, her voice suddenly powerful with authority. “Back—away— now .”

John spared her a glance, then set his beady eyes back onto Crowe, clenching his teeth and taking a step closer.

Then—the young woman rocketed away from the couch and barreled at John from behind.

Raven smashed into him—slamming him to the floor and grabbing a handful of his short brown hair. John fought and struggled—grunting and beginning to roll over, grasping wildly at her.

Aravali felt his heart jolt, stepping forward—but Elaine held up a hand and motioned for him to stay, striding across the room and reaching into her pocket.

Just when John managed to roll over and toss Raven off of him—Elaine was on her knee—jamming an injector into his neck.

John lay on his back—gaping up at her.

Raven leaped upright and staggered back—Crowe, Iggy, and Donna all watching in awe—and Elaine merely stared down at the felled lunatic, her visage as stoic and unreadable as ever.

Then, seconds later, John’s eyes fluttered, drifting shut as he fell still in the middle of the room.

Aravali continued to watch in surprise from the doorway, and for a moment, no one spoke.

Then, Iggy slowly stood from his couch, sliding his old jean jacket off and preparing to assist. He wandered over to Elaine, and together, she and Iggy lifted John off the floor by his arms and legs, turning and carefully carrying him out of the room.

Aravali walked into the lounge and turned, clearing them a path and watching as they escorted the unconscious man away. Donna remained seated in the lone chair in the far corner of the room, looking down at her lap, and Crowe’s brow hardened as he stared at the doorway, just before turning and giving Raven a look.

“Whaddid you do that for?” Crowe asked sincerely, squinting questioningly at her.

Raven stood opposite him, still straightening up, panting, and combing her dark gelled hairs back with her fingers, her open black jacket now askew and hanging partly off her shoulder. She had a pair of dark, shiny eyes, and they simply rested on him for a moment before she replied.

“He attacked you,” Raven breathed, her voice surprisingly light and meek despite her dark attire.

“Right,” Crowe muttered. “But he can’t help it… he’s…”

Aravali only just managed to tear his gaze from the doorway, where Elaine, Iggy, and John had all vanished from sight moments ago. He turned and faced Crowe and Raven, wondering what he ought to say to them, if anything. Upon closer view, he noticed Crowe had a rather pale visage. He wore an open black overcoat, similarly to Raven, and both of them looked, in Aravali’s opinion, as if they were dressed to attend a rock concert.

“That was quite good, though,” Crowe mumbled, cracking a smirk at Raven. “You didn’t even cross that line we can cross. Well done.”

Raven breathed out a laugh, curling one of her loose hairs back behind her ear.

Then, the two of them turned their heads, seeming to only just notice Aravali standing nearby.

“Hello,” Crowe said, curling his lip and giving him a curious squint. “You lost, mate?”

“Ah… no, I’m… the new doctor here,” Aravali told him, shaking his initial thoughts of the incident away and offering his hand. “Aravali Chavan. Pleasure.”

“Oooh… a doctor,” Crowe smirked, returning the handshake and nodding at him. “Well, we tend to need those here, and we never have any laying around. Just how it goes, innit? You’re cluttered with ‘em most of the time, but the moment you need ‘em, they’re gone. Just like TV remotes… and everything else in life.”

Aravali chuckled and nodded, then turned and extended his hand to the girl as well.

Raven gave him a deep, skeptical stare, raising her hand and shaking his very briefly before withdrawing from him.

Aravali stared at her for a second, then turned and narrowed his eyes at Crowe, waving a finger at the doorway. “Ahm… does that sort of thing happen a lot here?”

“Once in a while. You can never really tell when it will or won’t,” Crowe shrugged. “Bit unpredictable in here.”

“I see. So… I take it you’re Crowe and Raven,” Aravali said, turning and gesturing to the woman in the far corner adjacent to the TV. “And that makes her Donna.”

“Right… the bloke who just got dragged away was John, and the one who helped Miss Morgan carry him off was Iggy,” Crowe explained. “Don’t let that first impression fool you, though. John’s usually a decent sort, and Iggy’s usually a lot more of a space-case. He can help with the heavy lifting perfectly fine, but just watch what happens if you ask him a basic maths question. Fried most of his circuits in the 60s. He’s nice enough, though.”

“I see,” Aravali nodded, folding his arms and eyeing him interestingly. “So, the way I heard it… it sounds like you’re the only one here without an official diagnosis.”

Crowe nodded, his subtle smirk seeming more prominent now. “Hard to diagnose what I have. Good luck.”

Aravali made a nod, glimpsing over and seeing that Raven was peering past them now, suddenly transfixed by the TV. Mork & Mindy began to play, and she walked over to the couch and the two recliners, sitting on the couch’s edge and gazing into the TV with rapt attentiveness.

Crowe and Aravali both turned, staring at the TV for a moment.

“That’s a pastime here, you’ll come to find,” Crowe informed, nodding once at the TV. “Watching the tele is a gift from God in this place—especially Mork & Mindy. Everybody’s favorite show. Y’like that show?”

“It’s all right,” Aravali replied. “Personally, it’s hard for me to take any story with martians in it very seriously.”

“Mork’s not a martian,” Crowe laughed breathlessly, shaking his head and turning, giving the doctor a thoughtful squint. “D’you know the difference between a martian and an alien?”

Aravali met his eyes, reading his expression—deep blue eyes, mischievous sort of smirk, and a simple, expectant stare, as if he genuinely wanted to hear the answer.

“Uhm… no, not really,” Aravali muttered.

Crowe smiled a bit wider. “I doubt you’d believe it if I told you.”

“Well… if you’re claiming to be an expert on such matters, then that might be part of the reason you end up in places like this,” Aravali said with a laugh. “Then again, I hardly know you from a hole in the wall, so who can say…”

Crowe snickered, squinting at him with intrigue. “You sound a bit like… did you come from across the pond?”

“Long time ago, I did,” Aravali told him. “But I’ve lived in the States from my early teen years onward. Suppose whatever accent I’ve got left is fairly muddled by now.”

“Hah… I knew it,” Crowe said, waving a finger at him. “I can spot a fellow Brit from a mile away. You oughta try and regain the accent, y’know. Helps loads with the ladies, especially in the music industry. They might make fun of you in school, but it suddenly becomes a whole lotta sexy when you get older. Especially if you’re a musician.”

“I don’t think I’m likely to live out such a scenario.”

“Well… you stay friends with me, and you just might.”

“Crowe,” Elaine called out, peeking her head into the room from the far doorway. “Give him the rundown if he’s got time to hear it. I’ve got a few things to do right now.”

Crowe nodded at her, then met Aravali’s eyes again. “Y’want a rundown?”

“Ah… sure,” Aravali agreed. “Nothing on the agenda today except the interview and a bit of shopping later…”

“Well… look here.”

Crowe wandered over to the nearest window, motioning to the rainy field outside, the woods in the distance and the pavilion sitting alongside the trees. He spoke about the gazebo, and how the patients were sometimes allowed to spend time out there, then he started talking about the cooking arrangements, mentioning that Elaine had been ordering takeout a lot lately.

“Oh—d’you know how to use a gas stove?” Crowe asked.

“I’ve got one at home,” Aravali told him.

“Right… well, just be careful, because the one we’ve got here is industrial,” Crowe replied. “I dunno how often you’d actually find yourself cooking here, but the last thing we’d want is a gas leak. Are you gonna be living here like Erickson did?”

“Ahm… no,” Aravali answered.

Crowe nodded quietly, giving him a peculiar sort of stare.

“Might be better if you did,” he said softly.

Aravali squinted at him. “Why’s that?”

Crowe shrugged and looked away for a second.

“Have you got any family?” he asked a moment later.

“Ah… well, I did have,” Aravali said. “My father died in an accident quite a long time ago… and my mother was ill. She passed away fairly recently, so… no… I don’t. Not anymore.”

“Oh. Christ,” Crowe mumbled, frowning and glancing away again. “Sorry.”

Aravali shook his head, his gaze wandering back to the TV.

“She lived a long and full life,” he murmured. “And she was very happy when she passed. As sad as it is… it’s certainly not the worst way a person can go.”

“Fair point,” Crowe muttered.

The two of them paused for a moment.

Then, Aravali blinked, turning and eyeing him. “And you?”

Crowe continued staring at the TV for a second longer, then let out a laugh and shook his head.

“I left home a long time ago,” he said. “My parents weren’t… caring… y’know. They were more the violent nutter types, especially Mum. But… I had a couple of mates, who I…”

He trailed off, gazing into the TV, falling momentarily silent.

“Well… the short version is, my mates and I all ended up in this ‘medical trials’ lab,” Crowe uttered, his tone seeming to darken. “But… that whole thing turned out to be a bit more terrible than I thought it would be. I’d say it drove me mad… except…”

He paused once more, staring at the TV and releasing a heavy cloud of breath.

“It’s not mad if it’s real,” he said softly.

Aravali turned his head, his eyes narrowing at him with intrigue.

Crowe continued staring into the television almost trancelike. Then, he shook his head and turned suddenly, facing the doctor and raising a finger.

“Oh—I forgot this bit,” he said, breaking into a brisk stride toward the far doorway. “And it’s kind of important. Come’ere.”

Aravali followed him across the lounge, and they both stepped through the doorway. Just outside of the corner doorway leading to the back hall, a single white door was directly to the right, and Crowe turned the doorknob and pushed it open, stepping inside and beckoning him to join him.

They both emerged in an office—a long mahogany desk in the center, a black leather chair behind it, and a fluffy blue recliner in front of it, a painting of coastal South Carolina hanging from the opposite wall.

“This was Erickson’s office—and now it’s yours,” Crowe told him, stepping to the side and motioning to the desk. “He was the doctor here until about four days ago—so I reckon you’ll be taking his place in all ways. You’ll be stationed right next to the lounge, too—so you’ll always be the first to know if another incident kicks off.”

“Suppose I’ll be carrying an injector around everywhere I go,” Aravali said, choking out a laugh and sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Oh… believe me, you’ll want that,” Crowe grinned. “Walking around here with no self-defense is bad enough… but doing that with John on the loose would make anyone paranoid. And some of us don’t need any extra help getting paranoid.”

Aravali chuckled and nodded.

Crowe wandered around behind the desk, pulling one of the drawers open and examining the inside. Then, he nudged it shut with his shin, giving the doctor a curious look.

“Has she given you any keys yet?” Crowe asked.

“Ah… no, not yet,” Aravali replied. “Do I need keys?”

“Yeah. For the front door, if nothing else,” Crowe laughed. “There’re two sets of locks.”

“Oh, right, I forgot…”

“Well… I expect she’ll give you all the keys you need tomorrow,” Crowe determined. “You are starting tomorrow, right?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Brilliant. Tomorrow’s supposed to be my go.”

“Your go…?”

“At this,” Crowe elaborated, waving between the leather chair and the cloth one. “My session’s meant to be tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Aravali replied, smiling and nodding at him. “You’ll be my first patient, then.”

“First here? Or first ever?”

“First ever.”

“Oooh,” Crowe smiled, leaning on the desk and eyeballing him. “You’re just starting out at this, aren’t you? Y’really think you can stay sane here?”

“Well… if not, I can’t imagine it’ll matter very much,” Aravali smirked. “I’ll already be right where I need to be.”

Crowe laughed. “Good point. Fair warning, though—when you bring Donna in here, you might end up talking to a handful of different people at once. She zones out and turns into a different person now and then. But, so long as you don’t get her persecutor alter, then you oughta do just fine with her.”

Aravali eyed him questioningly. “Persecutor alter?”

Crowe straightened up from the desk, nodding and sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, right, you don’t call them that yet…” he mumbled faintly, swatting the air and shaking his head once. “Uhm… her other personalities, I mean. Most of them are fairly normal, but there’s one that’s a bit hard to deal with. That one almost never comes out, though.”

“Right… I was curious about that,” Aravali said thoughtfully, crossing his arms. “I know Multiple-Personality Disorder doesn’t really go away, but… usually, it tends to degenerate over time, given that the sufferer isn’t exposed to any drastic circumstances that might worsen the disorder. And Donna seems…”

He glanced back at the open door, gently pushing it shut.

“Well… she’s middle-aged,” Aravali added. “How severe does she seem to you? Because one would think that she would’ve found a healthier mental foundation by this point in her life, unless something happened that… well… worsened it, like I said.”

“Huh. You’re a sharp one,” Crowe observed. “You pieced that together, and you haven’t even talked to her yet.”

“Just a hunch,” Aravali shrugged. “But… those disorders are particularly difficult to understand, and some people have a harder time of coping with it than others, so… it’s also possible that I’m completely off-base.”

Crowe let out a laugh. “You’re instilling a lot of confidence, mate.”

“Sue me. I’m new,” Aravali smirked.

“Well… something did happen to make her worse,” Crowe figured. “I mean… honestly… none of us would be here if nothing happened to make us worse.”

“Fair point,” Aravali agreed. “I suppose I’ll find out more when I talk to her…”

They both fell silent for a few seconds.

Then, Aravali gave him another curious once-over. “Is there anything else you think I should know? About the other patients, I mean. Not sure what to expect in these sessions.”

“Ah… well…” Crowe glimpsed to the side, scratching along his cheek and pondering on this for a moment. “Iggy’s gonna be the easiest, for sure. He’ll probably just tell you bits and pieces of an obscure story from a long time ago… then he’ll remember it was actually a different story, and it didn’t actually happen to him, and he actually just saw it on TV once…”

Aravali laughed. “Noted. And… what about Raven?”

Crowe slipped his hands into his pockets again, gazing up at the single light in the ceiling.

“No idea,” he replied. “She’s a bit… reserved… nowadays.”

Aravali gave him an odd little squint. “That’s surprising to hear. Looked like the two of you were close, from what I could tell.”

“Well… not… really,” Crowe mumbled, shrugging and facing him properly again. “We used to be, but she… I dunno…”

He stopped for a second, biting his lip and staring down.

“Right… and John,” Crowe uttered. “John’s a bit more… complicated.”

Aravali stared. “How so?”

“Well, he’s… broken up inside,” Crowe surmised. “He seems to think doing what the voices want will make them stop, but… I mean… I know better. They’ll never stop.”

Aravali nodded mildly, surveying him closely.

“Why did he attack you?” he asked. “Did he say at all…?”

“He said… they want him to,” Crowe told him, his voice seeming graver now, which didn’t sound right coming out of him. “They told him I’m a problem… and everything will be right with the world again if I go away.”

Aravali grimaced, sighing deeply. “Has he ever done that to anyone else…?”

Crowe nodded sideways. “He’s had a go at Miss Morgan before… but she can just trank him.”

“I see. So, if I’m undergoing a session with him, and he becomes belligerent…”

“Then you’ll have to just trank him. Yeah.”

Aravali nodded again, unfolding his arms and releasing another heavy breath. “Well… hopefully that won’t become necessary.”

“You don’t wanna ride on your hopes here, mate,” Crowe told him, leaning back in the chair and folding one leg over the other. “They always crash and burn.”

Aravali paused, examining him curiously.

Crowe read his expression, and his subtle half-smile made a slow return.

“Doctors, and orderlies, and patients, and people… they all just turned tail and ran,” he explained. “None of them really cared about this place enough to stay… not when it got hard. We’re nothing to them. Nothing worth enduring hardship for, anyway. I do understand it… because it must be hard to stay here, with everything falling apart… but… y’know. Some of us are a bit tired of the same old routine in life… getting excited that someone gives a damn, and then having them turn out not to.”

Aravali said nothing, staring into him and nodding with understanding.

“Hoping you won’t turn out the same way,” Crowe murmured.

“Well… I’ve waited my entire life to work in this field, and I didn’t spend all that time striving toward it without caring about it,” Aravali told him firmly. “I’m looking forward to working here, and I certainly don’t plan to go anywhere.”

Crowe rested his head back, stroking along his face and giving him a long, surveying stare. Then, his smile widened a bit, and he gently tilted his head at him.

“Well… God help us all,” he said. “I think you’re a bleeding heart. You might actually turn this all around, or die trying.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Aravali replied with a smirk. “I honestly can’t believe no one else has even bothered to try here.”

“We’re loonies, Ari,” Crowe said, swiftly standing from the chair. “Nobody really gives a damn about the kind of people who’re here.”

“Well… that’s just not true,” Aravali chuckled. “I’m here.”

Crowe flashed his usual smile once more. “You’d better hold true to that, or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“I don’t think you’ll come at me once I’ve got my own injector handy.”

“I didn’t mean from me—I meant Miss Morgan. She will tear you to bloody pieces.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good to know…”

“She was the head orderly for a reason.”

“Sounds like it…”

They both stopped for a moment.

Aravali glanced back at the door, then faced Crowe again. “Well… is there anything else you think I oughta know right now?”

“Ahmm…” Crowe bit his lip and shrugged. “Not off the top of my head… but I’ll probably remember something after you’re gone. That’s how it tends to go, innit?”

“Oh, I know what you mean. Well… I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Aravali disclosed, turning the knob and pulling the door open. “Tell Miss Morgan I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Crowe agreed, nodding and waving him off.

Aravali stepped out of the room, strolling down the hallway that ran alongside the lounge. He marched off toward the entrance, which had been left unlocked for him, and he pulled the double-doors open, vanishing into the rain as the doors creaked shut behind him.

Crowe stood in the doorway of the office, watching him go and wearing a thoughtful visage.

He slightly turned his head, spotting Elaine Morgan standing at the end of the back hall, leaning against the wall and staring at him with a deep, profound expression strewn across her face.

Crowe sighed, facing the double-doors again and losing himself to his thoughts.

With Canterbury Lab decimated—and with Valek and Vincent likely out for blood—he felt incredibly unsettled at staying here in town, hunkering down in this mental hospital where Raven had chosen to be.

But—with three other ex-Canterbury patients here, and with two employees here—he knew for certain that everyone here would be in danger if he decided to leave.

So—for now—Moonvale was where he would stay.

Crowe stood still for a moment longer. Then, he glanced down the back hall again, seeing that Elaine had wandered off.

He continued to stare, his eyes fixating on the closet door in the corner of the hall, the utility closet filled with supplies.

His eyes narrowed, thinking of the dream he’d had last night—then he broke into a brisk stride down the hallway, approaching the door and making a hard sideways nod. He heard the lock unclick, and then, he pulled the door open.

Inside was a deep closet, shelves filled with numerous boxes and packages containing various types of supplies for the facility.

Crowe sighed, swinging the door shut and strolling back down the hall.

“Not yet, I s’pose…”

Aravali drove into town, stopping at the shopping center and collecting a few groceries before returning home.

His apartment complex was a small, dingy building alongside the street of Pinecrest Avenue, his apartment on the second floor, reachable from the stairway that led up to his door, extending up from the small concrete path connected to the sidewalk. Just as he did every day, he parked around the building in the parking lot, strolled down the sidewalk with his single plastic bag of groceries, and rounded the corner, marching up the rickety metal stairs and approaching the wooden door of apartment thirteen, the place that had been home to him for many years now.

The sight always remained the same; the outside of the complex was covered in ancient paint that was probably once white, chipped and crackled in several places, the door dark brown, unpainted, and somewhat splintery around the edges. To the left was the walkway and the adjacent stairway that led up to the third floor, and to the right was the metal balcony, which stood above the sidewalk, giving him a perfect view of the road from above, as well we the church and its usually vacant parking lot across the street.

Today, as he walked up the stairs, he glanced off to the right, spotting a dark Oldsmobile sitting in the corner of the church parking lot, far from the church itself, and it was the only vehicle present. Two men stood outside of the car—both in black suits and hats—and they were discussing something with one another.

Aravali pulled out his keys, inserting them in the door and glimpsing over the balcony again.

The two suited men were both staring up at him from a distance.

Only a millisecond later—both of the strange men averted their eyes, facing each other and resuming their hushed conversation.

Aravali spared them another odd look, then pushed his door open and walked inside. He’d long since grown accustomed to seeing shady behavior in this area—it was a popular neighborhood for drug deals—but he’d never seen two well-dressed strangers engaging in such activity. Still, it hardly mattered; all that mattered now was making dinner and mentally preparing for the start of his new career tomorrow.

He paused after closing and locking his door, giving his apartment a once-over.

To the right was the window with the crooked blinds, facing Pinecrest Avenue and the church parking lot, a small round table sitting at the window and cluttered with various items that both he and his mother had accumulated and never organized over the years. Across from this table was the rest of the kitchen—the fridge, cabinets, counter, stove, and sink, much of it recently cleaned spotless, as he’d only just started power-cleaning his home two days ago—and the dishes were now stacked neat and clean off to the side of the sink. Past the kitchen was the living room, the TV in the corner, the couch and recliner both aimed at it, and the coffee table still covered in loose random items, as he hadn’t yet reached the living room on his cleaning sprees. Around the corner were the two bedrooms and the bathroom—and the master bedroom in the corner hadn’t been opened in weeks. He still felt incredulous to deal with it even now.

Aravali tossed his keys onto the edge of the kitchen table, the only clear area on its surface, then meandered over to the counter and pulled the ramen noodles out of his grocery bag. He grabbed a pot, filled it with water, and placed it on the stove, just before turning the knob for the eye.

The stove made a few rapid clicks, and then a blue fire ignited beneath the pot.

After dropping two packs of noodles into the water, he sighed and wandered off, venturing around the corner and strolling past his own semi-cluttered room, his eyes landing on the door of the master bedroom in the right corner.

He intended to use the rest of his free time today cleaning more of the apartment—but now, standing at the corner of the small hallway, he sighed heavily, frowning at the closed bedroom door and wanting more than anything not to open it.

He hadn’t touched his mother’s room since she died, after all.

Aravali stared at the door, fingernails scraping lightly against the sleeves of his dark button-up.

Then, he turned, scanning over his living room and his kitchen table.

There was plenty else to clean—he didn’t need to start with the master bedroom.

So—he broke into movement, hurrying to remove the silence from the apartment and feeling eager to get to work. He moved several loose jackets and discarded cups from the mess on the kitchen table, digging out the radio and placing it on the kitchen counter. Then, he plugged it in, powered it on, and turned up the volume, letting the music echo out from the kitchen before his cleaning spree began.

“Why do we scream, at each other? This is what it sounds like… when doves cry…!”

After piling all of the jackets from the table onto his clothes hamper, he plucked out several dirty dishes that had been buried on the table for a long time, placing them into the sink and filling it with hot, soapy water. While the sink filled and the pot began to boil, he organized the rest of the items on the table, placing some things in the hall closet and others in the bathroom cabinet—until, finally, the table was clear, freeing him to wipe it down.

Aravali turned off the sink and the stove, then headed into the living room and repeated the routine, clearing everything away from the coffee table and finding new homes for all the items, placing all the garbage in a loose trash bag he was carrying around. Once the coffee table was cleared off, he positioned himself at the sink and began washing the rest of the dishes.

By the time he was finished with all the cleaning, the cooked noodles on the stove had simmered to a room temperature. He added a touch of butter and salt alongside the flavoring, then finally turned the radio off, walking into the living room, powering on the TV, and sitting on the couch, preparing to eat and relax.

As he did, his eyes wandered over to the side, eyeing the empty recliner for a second before gazing into the TV screen again.

The recliner was his mother’s chair, and it always had been. He wasn’t sure why he still felt the need to keep it free for her, but, as he began to lose himself in Late Night with David Letterman, his mind wandered away from the issue, and he simply ate his dinner and watched the talk show peacefully.

Still—even with the TV or the radio on, and even keeping himself busy redoing the apartment, he couldn’t entirely shake the subtle, gnawing sensation of emptiness the apartment seemed to hold now.

Perhaps it would become easier to bear with time.

It wasn’t as if he had a plethora of friends to go and spend time with, and he no longer had anyone at home to talk to—but, as he knew now, he had his foot in the door of his new career, and he wouldn’t be stewing in this silence around the clock for much longer.

The next day—Aravali left home shortly after his alarm sounded.

Glad to have an early destination again, he quickly showered, raked his wavy hairs back best he could, and dressed in a black button-up and pants to match before grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment. He drove through a bit of morning traffic, but he found himself cruising into the woods and toward the outskirts of town again before too long.

By the time eight forty-seven came around, he’d parked at Moonvale right beside the Ford Escort, strolling up to the white double-doors and knocking loudly on them.

Moments later, he heard the locks clicking, and the doors swung open.

“C’mon in—and here you go,” Elaine said, waving him inside and holding up a small ring of keys. “Just so you don’t have to knock anymore.”

“Hah. Thank you,” Aravali smirked, taking the keys and stepping inside, and she closed and locked the doors behind him.

“Good—now—just so you know,” Elaine breathed, facing him fully and sounding rather rushed. “It’s not supposed to rain again today, so the patients will likely want to go outside during recess time later on. I have a lot to do today, so they can’t go outside unless you supervise.”

“Fine by me,” Aravali agreed, glancing over at the entry to the lounge, the one nearest the front doors. “Are they all awake now, or…?”

“Yes—but John’s still in solitary,” Elaine explained. “He needs to calm down a little more before he can rejoin everyone.”

“Noted. Um…” Aravali glimpsed down the side hall at his office door, then turned to her and squinted at her. “Do you need help with anything? I don’t think I’ve got anything specific to do until Crowe’s session, and that’s a couple hours away.”

Elaine opened her mouth to answer just when someone else cut her off.

“Oy,” Crowe called to her, peeking his head out from behind the corner of the hall and holding up several plastic packages of injectors. “Where d’you want these…?”

“Top shelf of the closet,” Elaine ordered, jabbing a finger at him and raising her brows intently. “And do not open them.”

Crowe rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry before vanishing around the corner again.

Elaine sighed and faced the doctor again.

“The truck came today,” she informed. “We’ve got a lot of supplies to organize and no manpower to do so.”

“Oh. Well… let me help,” Aravali offered. “I need to know where everything goes, anyway.”

“Good point,” Elaine nodded, breaking into a brisk stride down the hall. “Let’s go.”

Aravali followed her down the hallway, and when the two rounded the corner, he spotted several large boxes sitting in a disorganized fashion all around one of the closets, the closet propped open by a box, Crowe hunched halfway inside the closet and placing things on one of the higher shelves. The doctor and the orderly approached him, and then, all three of them found themselves pulling countless things from the boxes and organizing them into the nearest closet, just before Elaine instructed them to carry the remainder of the boxes upstairs, as the rest of the supplies was meant to be stored elsewhere.

A long span of unanticipated labor unfolded, and Aravali and Crowe spent a while carrying big and heavy cardboard boxes up to the second floor, passing the double-doors of the cafeteria and placing the boxes at the threshold of another storage closet, this one larger than the one downstairs. Then, another stretch of time transpired wherein all of them were ripping the boxes open and storing everything in a closet again, Elaine giving them very specific instructions as they did.

When it was finally over, Crowe crushed down the boxes and carried them all away, and Aravali sighed, wiping his brow and venturing back down the stairs. When he arrived in his office, he glanced up at the clock that was on the wall just above the coastal painting, seeing that Crowe’s session was meant to begin in two minutes.

Silently feeling relieved at the idea of sitting still for a long period of time, Aravali turned and prepared to go find him—but he then spotted Crowe strolling down the back hall toward him, having only just returned from discarding all of the boxes to parts unknown.

“Time to talk?” Crowe asked, nodding once at him.

“Yeah,” Aravali affirmed, slinking back into his office and waving for him to join him.

The two of them sealed themselves off in the office, the door shut, Aravali sinking into the big leather chair and releasing a breath of relief, Crowe sitting in the cloth recliner across from him and propping one leg atop the other, leaning back and smirking at the doctor.

“Didn’t expect manual labor on the job, didja?” Crowe said coyly.

Aravali’s head rested back against the chair, savoring the comfort of the cushy leather and choking out a laugh. “Not right out the gate, no…”

“Welcome to Moonvale,” Crowe said.

“Mhm,” Aravali mumbled, rolling his neck once before straightening up in his chair. “Okay… before we develop a regular routine for discussing progresses and declines, I think I need to understand you as a person better. Or at all, really.”

“That’d be helpful, yeah,” Crowe laughed. “You’re supposed to be getting inside my head. Can’t really do that if you don’t know me at all.”

“Well… I got to know you a bit yesterday, but we can go from there,” Aravali said, clasping his hands atop the desk and giving him a look of intrigue. “Tell me a bit about yourself, aside from what I already know.”

“That’s a hard thing to do, mate. I dunno what Miss Morgan’s already told you about me.”

“All she’s really mentioned is that you’re a fun type of person, and you apparently say things about seeing into the future. That’s all I’ve got to go on so far.”

“Well… I can see into the future,” Crowe told him, hooking a finger over his mouth, his smirk as prominent as ever.

Aravali’s eyes narrowed curiously at him.

“Okay,” he said seconds later. “Tell me something you know about the future.”

“It’ll be a right sight worse than the way things are now. I can tell you that much.”

“I see. Are there martians involved?”

“No. Just aliens,” Crowe said, his smile growing a bit. “D’you really not know the difference between a martian and an alien?”

“Tell me something else—something specific,” Aravali suggested. “I’m curious to know what exactly you’re going on with this future-sight of yours.”

Crowe took in a thoughtful breath, glancing up at the ceiling and seeming to search his mind.

“Hard to say, really,” he mumbled. “Some of it, I just see at random, looking at a picture, or listening to a tune… and some of it comes to me in dreams. It’s just there all the time, I dunno.”

“Do these visions ever make you uncertain of what’s real and what’s not?”

“No… no, it’s not me seeing things,” Crowe tried to explain, gesturing as he spoke. “It’s more like I always see them… in the back of my head, just there, lingering information, like I’ve always known it. I’ve never seen mad hallucinations in the lounge or anything. I just… know things. I see it in my mind, and I know it in my heart.”

“Okay. Give me an example.”

“Of what?”

“Of some of this lingering information in your head—information about the future. Tell me something that nobody here in the 1980s could reasonably know.”

Crowe tossed his head back against the chair, pondering deeply on this.

“Well… music’s definitely gonna be a bit different, for one,” he said, waving a finger at the doctor. “There’s one band from the future that I quite like, and it plays in my head sometimes. Well… they are a thing right now, but they haven’t made all the music I know of theirs just yet. They’ll be big into grunge, too. I mean… not our grunge, but more… 90s grunge.”

Aravali stared at him, his eyes narrowing even more, feeling somewhat lost now.

Crowe read his expression, then spoke on.

“They’re called Nirvana,” he smirked. “They’re gonna bring about a new age of grunge soon. There’s one song of theirs I really like. I dunno what it’s called, but it goes something like… I’m not the on-ly-one, a-a-a-ah …”

Aravali continued to study him interestingly, making a few mild nods.

“Okay,” he uttered. “Tell me something else.”

“Ah, Christ… I’m not a prophecy vending machine,” Crowe sighed, resting his head back again. “What’re you hoping for? Lottery numbers? Bloody hell, I wish I could make it that specific… but it’s all random…”

“I need to get inside your head,” Aravali reminded him. “Hearing as much as possible from you will help me to do so.”

“Right… as if it matters. Not like you believe me.”

“Well… to be fair… believing that someone can see into the future is a hard sell, even if it’s coming from a person who’s not in a mental hospital.”

Crowe choked out a laugh, nodding sideways. “Right… fair point…”

“Let me hear it,” Aravali requested. “Tell me something else you know.”

“I dunno if you’d wanna hear the things I know,” Crowe murmured. “Whether you actually believe me or not…”

“Try me.”

Crowe stared at him, this time more intently, seeming to scan every inch of his face for any signs of wariness or mistrust.

“M’kay,” he uttered moments later, straightening up in his chair and locking eyes with him. “Well… I know people’re after us.”

Aravali examined him, his eyes narrowing. “People are after who?”

“Us. The patients here,” Crowe told him ominously. “Why d’you think it’s just us five left? We’re the five they want… and now, here we are, isolated and abandoned by the rest of the world. Just the way they want it so they can pick us all off.”

Aravali fell silent for several seconds, reeling slightly back in his seat and momentarily drawing a blank. Quite honestly, Crowe hardly seemed the type to entertain intense paranoia or delusions—in fact, he seemed as composed and functional as any normal person—but the things coming out of his mouth now were perplexing, to say the least.

“But… that’s not a future sight,” Crowe added, leaning back against his chair again. “You wanted future stuff, right?”

Aravali gulped, shrugging halfheartedly. “Well… just… whatever you feel the need to share. But… I am curious…”

He leaned forward on the desk, giving Crowe a quizzical look.

“Who do you think is coming after you?” he asked him.

Crowe stared for a moment longer, his signature smile seeming to slowly fade away.

“The men in black,” he said simply. “All the way from Canterbury.”

Aravali paused once more, eyeing him strangely. “England…?”

“No… not Canterbury England,” Crowe uttered, shaking his head. “Canterbury Lab, here in the States… just down Maple Branch. On paper, it’s just a place that does medical trials… but they do a lot more than that, mate.”

Aravali nodded in silence, feeling as if things were slowly beginning to make more sense. He knew Crowe had undergone some sort of medical trials at this place, and now, it seemed he’d developed a paranoia about the place he’d visited.

“I see. Well… it’s only natural not to trust a place like that completely,” Aravali disclosed. “But I can’t imagine what motivation they would have to come after you.”

Crowe fell silent, giving him a deep and strangely serious sort of stare, an expression that really looked misplaced on him.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?” Aravali suggested, hoping to change the subject, since the Canterbury topic seemed an unpleasant one for him. “What actually happened to land you here in Moonvale?”

Crowe hesitated for a moment, and then, he cracked a hint of his usual smirk again.

“Just needed somewhere to go,” he said.

Aravali breathed out a laugh, shaking his head incredibly at him. “You’re really a mixed bag of surprises. You know that…?”

Crowe smiled wider, sinking and making another shrug.

“Between you and my mother, I’d know everything there is to know about the past and the future both,” Aravali chuckled. “My mother kept a tower of old newspapers by her bed. She knows everything that’s ever happened in or around Mapleview since 1965.”

“Well, that’s ironic… I know everything that’s gonna happen from here on,” Crowe laughed. “I mean… not everything, but lots of the important stuff. We could write a book together if we wanted. Personally, what I’d really like to do is bet on some horse races, but I never see any visions of that , of course…”

Aravali laughed again, and then, they both fell silent for a moment.

Seconds later, a thought occurred to him, and he decided to voice it.

“Crowe,” Aravali said, leaning forward. “What exactly did you undergo at Canterbury Lab?”

Crowe met his gaze again, sighing deeply and glancing down.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Aravali assured. “I just thought I’d understand all this better if I knew…”

“Well… it’s… it’s just hard to explain,” Crowe griped, tossing up a hand. “I dunno… can’t remember all of it clearly, to be honest. But the details I do remember aren’t nice…”

Aravali grimaced.

“Did this place ever face litigation?” he wondered. “I mean… legal problems? Public controversy? Things of that nature.”

“Oh yeah,” Crowe nodded. “Yeah, they’ve been caught loads of times, especially in the past couple years—but it just gets swept under the rug, and they keep on doing what they’re doing. Somehow, they just keep weaseling around the rules and getting away with it all the time.”

“You might have a solid case against them,” Aravali suspected. “If they actually harmed you, then you might be able to take them to court sometime later on.”

Crowe stared off to the side, gazing into the wall and suddenly looking a million Aravali away.

“I dunno,” he mumbled gravely. “Seems like the kind of place that couldn’t be touched by that sort of thing…”

Another brief silence fell, Aravali studying him, Crowe gazing absentmindedly into the wall.

Moments later, Crowe turned his head again, squinting curiously at the doctor.

“Just to humor me,” he said, gently tilting his head. “Let’s say all the craziest things I’ve ever said actually come true someday. Let’s just say… hypothetically… the men in black actually show up here one day, and they wanna take all us patients away. What would you do?”

Aravali stared at him wordlessly.

“Let’s say they scared you, too,” Crowe added, his voice seeming to darken, eyes narrowing attentively at him. “Let’s say they followed you home, or trailed around behind your car in town, or cornered you alone somewhere and started dishing out death threats, telling you to leave Moonvale or die. What would you do then? Would you leave us all, or what?”

“That’s a rather specific thing to ask,” Aravali mumbled.

“Just curious,” Crowe replied, still watching him closely. “Call it a test of character.”

Aravali went quiet, staring down at the desk and mulling over his thoughts for a moment.

“Well,” he began, clasping his hands together again. “At that point… all of your safety would be on the line. I wouldn’t be able to leave knowing that.”

Crowe stared intensely, reading every inch of his face and saying nothing.

“Yeah?” he muttered seconds later. “You honestly mean that…?”

“Yes,” Aravali replied genuinely. “I can’t imagine such a scenario actually happening , but… if those kinds of people came around, if I knew that those people wanted to do you all harm, and if they were trying to force me away… then… I really couldn’t go anywhere. You’d all be in more danger if I did.”

Crowe continued to gaze into him profoundly, remaining silent for a long, quiet moment.

“Well… you’re a right sight better than some friends of mine,” he mumbled, looking away.

Then, moments later, he flashed a smirk at the doctor once again.

“I knew you were a bleeding heart,” he said.

“Sue me,” Aravali laughed and shrugged. “But, really—I don’t think you should fixate on that idea, Crowe. Nothing like that is actually going to happen.”

Crowe barely managed a nod, his expression becoming fairly distant once again.

“Is there anything else you feel like telling me?” Aravali inquired.

“Nah. But… there’s something I wanna ask,” Crowe replied, making a questioning face and wagging a finger at him. “D’you think you could get me some painting stuff?”

“Painting stuff…?”

“Yeah, like… a canvas, and some brushes and paints, maybe an easel,” Crowe explained. “I quite like painting, but Miss Morgan never has the time to go and get things for me, and she doesn’t want paint and brushes around the level-ones, anyway. She thinks they’ll huff on the paint and use the brushes for stabbing fights.”

Aravali choked out a laugh, swallowing and nodding. “Right, well, that is something we’d like to avoid here…”

“Well… it’s not like I’m gonna go ‘round handing them out like candy, is it? I’m not a raving lunatic, I just wanna make some art.”

“The problem would be you being around them while you do it. You’d have to be in a sequestered environment when you paint so they can’t access the brushes and such.”

“So? We’ve got a gazebo,” Crowe reminded him, waving at the right wall as if gesturing to the pavilion outside. “I can just paint out there.”

Aravali opened his mouth, then paused and made a sideways nod. “Well, yeah, I suppose you could… if we stored the supplies away whenever the other patients are outside…”

“There we are, then,” Crowe said conclusively. “Can you get me some painting stuff or not?”

Aravali sighed, smirking and nodding at him. “Yes, I’ll grab some for you whenever I have a moment to spare. I just need to find out where to go—”

“Art store’s in the shopping center where the wash and the barbeque buffet is.”

“Oh. Well… all right, then.”

“I’ve got the money for it.”

“How do you have money…?”

“Miss Morgan pays me,” Crowe informed. “I do quite a lot of work around here for her, so she gives me a little pocket money now and then… even though I haven’t been able to go and spend it anywhere…”

Aravali prepared to reply, hesitating for a second as another thought occurred to him.

“Well… I’ve been told that you have some day passes,” he remarked. “At some point in time… I could just take you out there to shop for things yourself.”

Crowe stared at him, his brow hardening, examining him strangely. “I thought I’d have to ask you for a ride, and I planned to do that later after we got to be buddy-buddy in here. I had a plan for it and everything—but you just beat me to it all.”

“I’m nothing if not considerate,” Aravali smirked.

“Right… I appreciate it,” Crowe smiled, glancing down and stroking his jaw. “Aw… I did wanna wait until Raven had a day pass to use, though. I kinda wanted to take her with me for a day out on the town…”

“Well… if you can wait until she gets a day pass to do your painting, then I can wait, too.”

“That’d be brilliant. Oh—but there’s one other thing that I wanna try really hard not to forget,” Crowe suddenly remembered, scooting to the edge of his seat. “In about three and a half weeks—it’s gonna be her birthday. I wanna get her some chocolates for her birthday, because she really likes chocolates. Can you help me remember that? I dunno if I’ll have enough to buy that for her when we go out into town, and I don’t wanna forget to do it later if I have to wait.”

Aravali stared for a second, cracking another smile and giving him a peculiar look.

“You certainly didn’t rant this much about her when I spoke to you yesterday,” the doctor observed. “Something happen…?”

Crowe opened his mouth, shrugging and nodding. “Well… yeah… she is a good mate of mine, I just… I mean, I knew her before we ever came here. She’s just been pulling away a lot lately. I wanna show her that people still… y’know… give a damn…”

“I think that’s fine… but I also think you ought to be careful,” Aravali advised. “If any patients start dating each other in here, that could cause a whole other series of problems.”

Crowe scoffed and laughed. “Nothing compared to the problems we already have. Trust me.”

Aravali chuckled and turned in his seat, glancing up at the clock and seeing that it was nearly noon now.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Crowe agreed, both of them rising from their seats.

The two of them walked out of the office, and Crowe began marching down the hall ahead of him. They were just able to see the group of other patients further down the back hall, all of them venturing up the stairs toward the cafeteria.

And as they did, and as Crowe quickened his pace to catch up with them—Aravali suddenly stopped outside of his office, a bizarre thought striking him out of nowhere.

“Men in black,” he murmured under his breath.

The memory of yesterday flashed through his mind—walking up the stairs of his apartment complex in the afternoon, glancing over, and seeing two men in black suits standing beside a car with tinted windows just across the street, both of those men turning their heads, staring up at him for a long, tense second that seemed to last for much longer than it actually had.

Aravali made a face, frowning and biting his lip, turning and gazing down the side hall, glaring at the white double-doors.

Then—instantly feeling foolish for considering such a paranoid thought—he shook the idea away and broke into a brisk stride, heading off to join the others for lunchtime.

The inhabitants of Moonvale strolled into the cafeteria on the second floor together.

It was a wide open space, one elongated table in the center—as many of the smaller tables had been stored away, no longer needed for the number of patience in the facility—and past the long table were several of the hospital’s tall rectangular windows, black bars affixed to them on the outside. In fact, in the corner of the large room was a door that led outside, onto the stone and brick balcony that stood above the entrance of Moonvale, a black metal railing wrapping around it. The food line stretched alongside the wall to the right, the entrance to the kitchen just behind it, and Elaine stepped out from behind it, having just finished preparing everyone’s lunch.

Iggy, Donna, and Raven moved over to the line, collecting trays and filling them with green beans and chicken legs. Aravali and Crowe approached the line after the others, and Elaine then appeared behind the two of them.

“Crowe,” she said, tapping his shoulder and leaning closer to him. “I’m about to let John out so he can come eat—so, if you want to eat downstairs, you can. Or he can.”

“What? No—no, just let ‘im join us,” Crowe replied, turning back to her and shaking his head. “He’s calmed down, right? And he’s a friend of mine. We can all eat together here. We’ve only done it about seven-hundred times now.”

Elaine took slightly back, her expression falling caustic.

Aravali turned and eyed them, and Crowe simply laughed at her.

“Don’t gimme that look—we’re mates,” he said. “John and I are friends. Just go get him.”

Elaine huffed out a breath, turning and marching off toward the exit.

Aravali watched her go, leaning over to Crowe and muttering. “Ahm… what is she doing?”

“Going to get John.”

“By herself…?”

“Yeah.”

Crowe moved on to the line, grabbing the nearest ladle and scooping up a helping of green beans—but Aravali continued staring at the open doorway that led to the hall, sighing deeply before breaking into a brisk stride.

He marched out of the cafeteria, glancing up and down the hall before he spotted Elaine rounding the far left corner. So—he walked off with a quickened pace, striding after her and turning around the corner just behind her.

“Elaine,” Aravali called, strolling up to her.

Elaine slowed to a stop and wheeled back around, perking her brow at him.

“Well… just… two things,” Aravali uttered. “You haven’t given me an emergency injector yet… and, on a semi-related note… I don’t think you should be releasing John from solitary alone. Just in case.”

“He’s heavily sedated at the moment,” Elaine informed, cocking her head gently at the doctor. “And… did you not think to arm yourself with an injector when we were storing them all away in the closets a few hours ago?”

Aravali’s mouth drifted open, then he laughed and shook his head. “Well… no… namely because I was a bit more preoccupied with abiding by your strict orders not to touch or open anything we were handling.”

“Those orders are for Crowe, not you,” Elaine told him, cracking a slight smile. “I can trust him to work—but I can’t trust him not to pocket something now and again.”

“Duly noted… but I think I ought to go with you, for several reasons,” Aravali replied. “I need to know where solitary actually is, for one… and you could also explain the protocol for restraining and such. Still haven’t heard that part.”

Elaine surveyed him, making a few mild nods. “Good to know you’re paying attention. C’mon.”

She turned and beckoned him to follow, and the two of them headed down the side hall of the second floor, approaching an isolated stairway in the corner and thumping down the stairs. They emerged on the first floor near the office where their interview had taken place, and Elaine ventured a little farther down the hall, pulling the closet open and rifling around inside it for a moment. When she emerged, she had an injector, and she handed it off to him.

Then, she led him away as she explained how the restraining protocol worked.

Elaine trekked up the isolated stairway with Aravali close behind, and rather than emerging on the second floor again, she continued up the stairs until the two of them arrived at the corner of a hallway on the third floor. It looked the same as everywhere else—manila halls with a few doors on either side—but with considerably less ambiance, no audible chatter from a cafeteria, and no music or TV shows echoing from any lounge rooms.

“These are the living quarters—patients’ rooms along the right, and live-in staff members’ rooms along the left,” Elaine informed him, motioning left and right as they walked down the main hall. “The middle room on the left here is mine.”

She stopped, tapped her finger to the white door beside her, and met his eyes.

“This is an office space—but my living quarters are inside it and part of it, adjacent to my office,” Elaine elaborated. “Generally, whenever I have to organize paperwork or medications for the patients, I’ll usually be doing that in here. So—if you need me and can’t find me—then you can probably find me here. All right?”

Aravali nodded

Elaine returned the nod before facing away and resuming her pace down the hall. “Solitary is around the far corner, here—away from everything else. You have a key for this door on your new key ring, the small round one on the end that’s gold-plated.”

“Understood,” Aravali muttered, squinting at her curiously from behind as they walked. “So, you… you live on the premises, then.”

“Mhm. I do,” Elaine affirmed as they rounded the far corner.

She unclipped her keys from her waist and turned to the solitary door, unlocking it before slowly pulling it open.

The two of them peered inside—examining a white, padded room, one man sitting in the center with his back to the wall, wrapped tightly in a straightjacket, his head resting back against the soft wall opposite them.

John barely raised his thin brows at them, his mouth hanging slightly open, his short brown hairs pressed back against the padding.

“Hungry?” Elaine asked, stepping into the room without hesitance.

John nodded at her.

Aravali entered the room as well, watching as Elaine hunched down beside John, unfastening the straightjacket before peeling it fully off of him.

After she tossed it aside, John remained seated there, leaning forward and running his hands down his face, taking a moment to adjust. Elaine patted him gently on the back, and seconds later, John upturned his head, spotting the doctor.

“John… this is our new doctor,” Elaine introduced, motioning to Aravali. “Dr. Chavan.”

John nodded mildly, sparing him a wave.

Aravali returned the wave and offered him a smile, observing the man and thinking he hardly seemed like the same person he’d seen in the lounge yesterday. Now, he appeared as composed and as ordinary as ever.

“John,” Elaine said gingerly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk to the doctor alone for a minute before we go and have lunch?”

John glanced over at her—and Aravali squinted at her curiously, wondering why she’d offer such a thing. But, seconds later, the answer came to him; John had openly tried to attack another patient yesterday, and there were no other doctors here in Moonvale anymore. So, nobody had spoken to this man about his incident at all yet. That job fell solely onto Aravali now.

John stared at Elaine for a moment, then sighed and made a halfhearted nod.

Elaine nodded as well, patting his shoulder once before reaching her feet. She marched toward the exit, stopping only for a second to whisper into Aravali’s ear.

“I’ll be right outside,” she assured him in a hushed tone, just before stepping out of the room and vanishing from sight.

For a moment, John and Aravali were silent after her departure.

Then, Aravali sighed and walked forward, sinking down and sitting perfectly across from the patient, intertwining his fingers and leveling his eyes with John’s.

“So… John,” he began, eyeing him interestingly. “Pleasure to meet you. Rather interesting circumstances for us to meet under.”

John breathed out a faint little noise that might have been a laugh. “No kidding.”

Aravali examined him thoughtfully. “Do you want to tell me why you attacked Crowe?”

John stared into him, his pensive brown eyes seeming to glare right through him. Then, he sighed heavily, hanging his head and staring down into his lap.

“Too much damn screaming,” he grumbled. “They won’t stop harping on me unless I go do what they want me to do…”

Aravali pressed his enclosed hands to his chin. “The voices?”

John nodded grimly.

“Are you currently medicated?” Aravali wondered.

John nodded again. “Elaine’s got me on the right pills… they just don’t work…”

“Then I suppose they’re not the right pills,” Aravali replied. “Some people react differently to certain medications. And I think…”

He trailed off, pausing, squinting curiously at John, only just noticing the faint lines along his brow, and around his mouth.

“Ahm… forgive me asking, but how old are you?” Aravali inquired.

“Forty-three,” John answered.

Aravali stared, falling momentarily silent and suddenly feeling perplexed.

“You’re forty-three years old, and you’ve never found the right balance of medications for schizophrenia?” he tried to clarify. “Did you just go undiagnosed for a long time, or…?”

“Oh… no… see, now, that is the fucking thing , right there,” John yammered, laughing breathlessly and repeatedly waving a finger at the doctor. “That is what I’ve been telling people… but nobody wants to listen to a fucking lunatic…”

“Well… I’m listening now,” Aravali told him. “Let me hear it.”

John took in a deep breath, raising his head and meeting his eyes again with a sharp stare.

“I’m not a schizophrenic,” he stated. “I’ve never heard voices up until… pretty recently.”

Aravali was quiet, slowly reeling back and studying him in bewilderment.

“That’s unusual,” he muttered.

“Yeah—you’re damn right it is,” John barked. “So I’m sorry if I never adapted, or learned how to deal with it, or figured out the right fucking medications—but this shit just hit me out of no-fucking-where.”

Aravali remained silent for a second longer, truly drawing a blank.

John began jabbing his finger at him again, this time harder. “See—that look—that’s the same damn look everyone else always gave me, looking at me like they don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you… I’m just trying to figure out how it’s possible,” Aravali replied honestly. “Most people discover Schizophrenia in their twenties. It doesn’t typically pop up in a person’s forties.”

“Yeah—well—if you figure that one out, then I would really like to hear it,” John disclosed, slapping his leg. “Don’t make any sense to me, either.”

Aravali nodded quietly, leaning slightly closer. “And… they told you to attack Crowe… why, exactly? Why him? Do you know?”

“Because, he’s…” John sighed and shook his head down at the floor, running hands down his face and looking stressed. “He’s just a problem…”

“How is he a problem…?”

“He’s not a problem to me, he’s just… he’s just… a problem,” John griped. “They hate anyone who’s a problem to…”

He stopped, looking away and trailing off.

“All right,” Aravali said gently. “Well… do you think you’re capable of joining everyone else in the cafeteria right now?”

“Yeah—fine—I just—I don’t wanna get paranoid again,” John breathed. “If I start getting paranoid, then they start getting loud, and then everything gets a lot harder to see clearly. Or think clearly about. Whatever.”

“Okay… well, how about this,” Aravali said, softly pressing his fingertips together. “If you start feeling unnerved by anything or anyone around you… then just come and tell me, and I can quietly escort you out. And… since I’m a total newcomer here, and I have no connections to anyone else you know, and no reason to conspire against you… then you have absolutely no reason to feel wary or paranoid about me. Right?”

John stared, making a few mild nods.

“All right, then… we’re good to go,” Aravali decided, scooting closer to him.

Elaine entered the room again, and she and the doctor worked together to remove the straightjacket from John before pulling him to his feet. Then, the three of them walked out of solitary, heading back to the cafeteria.

When they arrived, everyone else was seated along the center table with their food, chatting and laughing. Crowe had flicked a French fry at Iggy, landing it in his messy hairs, unbeknown to him, and Raven and Donna both giggled quietly at this.

John sat beside Crowe after fashioning a tray of food, and Crowe turned and grinned, wrapping an arm around him in a crooked sideways hug, welcoming him back to the group.

Avarali and Elaine stood by the food bar and watched them attentively from a distance.

“He gets worried about his own paranoia,” Elaine mumbled softly, folding her arms. “He seems very aware of it… and he acts like he’s not used to it whatsoever. Like it’s something that’s caught him entirely off-guard. It makes him… well… ironically, it makes him paranoid about becoming paranoid. And… because of that… I usually can’t coax him out of solitary that fast.”

“Well…” Aravali shrugged and nodded sideways, sliding his hands into his overcoat pockets. “Generally, that kind of paranoia can make you believe that everyone around you is out to get you somehow… so, introducing a stranger can be a bit helpful in that regard. A stranger is someone who’d have nothing to gain from your downfall. Not that any of you actually have something to gain from conspiring against him, but… well, that sort of paranoia quickly abandons logic when it kicks in…”

Elaine nodded, turning and squinting interestingly at him.

“You’re good at thinking on your feet,” she observed. “Particularly with these problems.”

“That’s what I’ve been preparing for,” Aravali shrugged again.

Elaine paused, then turned and motioned to the food along the bar. “Well… go ahead and have your lunch. This would be a good time to get to know them all better… before you start having one-on-ones with them regularly.”

Aravali nodded in agreement, turning and collecting a tray. He filled the tray with food, grabbed a bottled water, and walked halfway across the room, sitting across from Crowe and John before eating a spoonful of green beans.

Crowe and John were immersed in a conversation about Saturday Night Live, and Raven commented on one of their recent skits while Iggy and Donna ate their lunches quietly. Seconds later, Iggy’s face scrunched up, and he planted his elbow to the table, wagging his finger at the others.

“Ahhh… I seen that before,” Iggy said, his voice throaty and raspy, and his expression looking somewhat disoriented, despite that he was well-rested and sober. “I saw this commercial… for a Lite-Brite television. I went to order one, but I… eeeh… could never find one…”

“They’re not real , Iggy,” Crowe laughed. “Saturday Night Live commercials don’t show real products—they show fake ones. It’s just for a laugh.”

Iggy lowered his hand, staring down the table at Crowe with squinted eyes and his mouth hanging slightly agape, ogling him as if he’d never seen anything quite like him before.

Aravali glanced over and spotted the look on Iggy’s face, stifling a laugh before eating another bite of green beans.

“I can’t even look at Lite-Brite,” Donna mumbled, shaking her head down at her tray. “It makes Lindsay come out…”

“Which one’s Lindsay, again?” Crowe asked her.

“The one you talked to for two hours that one time,” Donna replied. “She’s the outgoing one…”

“Oooh, right—yeah, I like her,” Crowe grinned and nodded, turning to the doctor. “You’ll wanna get familiar with all of Donna’s personalities, mate. She’s got a lot of ‘em. One of ‘em is an old grouchy fisherman who allegedly goes ice-fishing all the time, and he’s a riot. Funny as hell to hear that kind of rumbly angry man voice come outta her.”

“Okay… hold on… let me see if I can remember this,” John said, raising his fingers and beginning to count them off. “There’s Lindsay, the extrovert… Henry, the fisherman… Sarah, the shy little kid… Marco, the Italian car salesman… and… um… what was the last one?”

Everyone turned to Donna expectantly, and her smile faded, hanging her head and staring into her food again.

“The one who says she’s the protector of the rest of us,” she murmured faintly. “But she won’t tell me her name…”

“Oh,” John uttered with a nod.

Aravali finished off his green beans and gave Donna another brief glimpse. He remembered that Crowe had mentioned Donna having a ‘difficult to deal with’ personality, and he guessed this was the one she was referring to now, one that was evidently nameless.

“Just… out of curiosity,” Aravali said, cupping his hands together and giving Donna a look of intrigue. “How long have you had a nameless personality among your other personalities?”

Donna glanced at him, biting her lip and making a halfhearted shrug.

“I don’t really know,” she replied. “I can’t remember… but I don’t really remember her being there years ago. She could’ve just been dormant, though… I don’t know for sure…”

“Iggy,” Raven muttered tonelessly, staring down the table intently at him. “What’re you doing?”

Everyone turned, seeing that Iggy was emptying a salt shaker onto the table, using his pinky to neatly arrange the pile of salt into a straight line.

Crowe and John both choked out a laugh, Raven smirking and shaking her head.

“You know that’s not coke , right?” Crowe said, snapping his fingers and gathering Iggy’s attention. “Oy—mate—you’re not in the 60s anymore. Come back to us.”

“Ohh, I know, I know…” Iggy mumbled, shaking his head and sniffing his pinky nail.

“I don’t think you do,” Crowe sniggered.

“Okay… I just have to ask,” John chimed in, raising a hand and shooting Iggy an odd look. “How the hell would a Lite-Brite TV even work? ”

Crowe and Raven busted with laughter simultaneously, Donna smiling and Aravali chuckling under his breath.

“No—seriously—you really thought a Lite-Brite TV was a thing?” John inquired, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes at Iggy. “How would you even watch anything on it? Why did you want one?”

Iggy continued sniffling along the edge of his pinky, making one final whiff before raising his head and squinting down the table at John.

“I… just… colors,” he muttered with a shrug. “I liked the colors…”

Crowe and Raven laughed even louder, John gaping at him in total befuddlement.

Aravali continued to eat, smirking at all of their banter.

“Oy… hey… speaking of colors,” Crowe said, leaning on the table and eyeing Aravali. “Y’think we could go outside today?”

“Ooo—yeah,” Raven agreed, smiling and giving the doctor a hopeful look. “We haven’t been outside in a while.”

Aravali took back, glancing around and seeing that all of the patients were staring at him rather closely now.

“Ah… well… that depends,” the doctor uttered. “I’d have to ask for Miss Morgan’s input, and… ahm… do any of the rest of you have a session today?”

“No,” they all replied.

“You don’t have any more one-on-ones until tomorrow,” Crowe stated.

“Ah. Well…” Aravali paused, intertwining his fingers atop the table. “Then… provided Miss Morgan doesn’t have any reason to keep you all inside… I suppose we can all go out after lunch. Why not.”

“Yesss!” Crowe beamed, punching the air with delight. He turned and traded a high-five with Raven, Donna smiling meekly down at her tray while Iggy laughed and collected more salt from the table with his pinky.

“Can we take the dodgeball out there?” Crowe asked. “Oh—Miss Morgan keeps that in the closet down the hall to the left, by the way. We like to play dodgeball outside whenever we can. So can we?”

“What… you play dodgeball with one dodgeball?” Aravali responded, squinting at him.

“We play our own version of it, yes,” Crowe affirmed with a powerful nod. “I promise, I will teach you everything there is to know about it—but we need permission to play the bloody game first. So can we? Can we can we can we?”

Aravali opened his mouth to reply—but someone else answered first.

“No,” Elaine said sharply, appearing behind Crowe and giving him a stern glare. “The grounds are still wet and muddy from all the rain yesterday. It’s not safe for you all to be running around and jumping all over the place outside right now. You can go outside—but nobody will be playing dodgeball outdoors until everything dries up.”

Crowe let out a dramatic groan of protest, but Elaine didn’t seem to care. She simply walked away, leaving him to make mocking faces at her from behind.

“Not gonna stop me from climbing the gazebo,” Crowe mumbled after she was far from earshot, laughing breathlessly and eating a bite of his potatoes.

Aravali stared at him from across the table, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“ I’ll stop you from climbing the gazebo,” he told Crowe flatly.

Crowe’s eyes flickered up from the tray, landing on him.

“Did she give you a trank yet?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” Aravali replied, revealing a smug little half-smile. “Don’t give me a reason to use it.”

“Oh—so that’s how it is,” Crowe said, straightening up and cocking his head at the doctor. “You really think hitting me with a trank is gonna make it safer for me on top of the gazebo? You can’t make me pass out when I’m up there. You’d just make me fall down.”

“Uh-huh—but you won’t get that far,” Aravali told him straightly. “As soon as you go for it, you’ll be tranked and laying sprawled in the grass.”

The other patients snickered at this, Crowe cracking a smirk and eyeing the doctor somewhat challengingly now.

Aravali merely raised his brows, returning his coy look.

“I have an idea.” Raven took another bite of food, then turned and smiled at everyone else, waving over at Crowe. “If he goes for the gazebo, we can all just dogpile on him.”

The others laughed, even Crowe, who turned and gaped at her in surprise.

“Oy!” he yelled, still laughing. “Whose side are you on? !”

“I second that,” John said, raising his fork between bites.

Crowe spun in his seat and stared at John in amused shock.

“Me and Iggy are in, too,” Donna said, sheepishly holding up a hand.

“Oh—what? Really? Okay,” Crowe said, nodding down the table at Iggy. “I’ll bet you any amount of money that Iggy’s not in on it. He probably checked outta this conversation as soon as it wasn’t about Lite-Brite anymore.”

Everyone turned and stared down the table, where Iggy was lowered over the surface of it, looking as if he was preparing to snort his line of salt. Seconds later, when he spotted everyone else staring, he slowly straightened up, clearing his throat and running a hand down his face.

“Iggy,” Crowe said, smiling and snickering breathlessly at him. “D’you have any idea what we’re talking about now?”

Iggy’s big brown eyes wandered from person to person, looking entirely lost.

“Caramel…” he breathed. “Apples…”

At once—everyone erupted with laughter, and this time, Aravali chortled alongside them.

It wasn’t long before they all finished their lunches and stood to leave the room, eager to head outside—and as they did, Aravali remained among their group, overseeing the rest of their peaceful afternoon.

It was the first of many days he’d spend with the misfits of Moonvale.