Can You Hear Me Scream (3)
Title: Can You Hear Me Scream
Author: knoxvilleblue.
Pairing: Vam
Rating: R
Summary: No one believes you when you're crazy.
Disclaimer: Cussing, Sex, Violence
Warnings: Might offend some
Authors Notes: Creative_exile rules.. But we already knew that.
Ville's Point Of View
Sleep was impossible for me that night. Bam passed out after crying himself to sleep. I tried to calm him, to let him know I wasn't upset with him, though inside I was scared to death. But it wasn't Bam's fault-at least I didn’t think that.
I didn't think I'd fallen asleep until I woke up. When I opened my eyes I jumped a little; Bam was sitting right next to my bed, his eyes bright and a smile on his face.
"Bam? It's you, right?" I asked, sitting up a little. I didn't want to deal with the other person dwelling inside of him. Not this early at least.
Bam laughed a little-if only he knew how serious I was. "Duh it's me, who else would it be? Oh. . . .never mind. Well, anyway yeah, it's me."
I smiled in response as I stood from my bed. I looked over at the striped clothes on the floor and frowned.
"Bam, I don't think they will be so kind about those today. You should cooperate and wear them," I said simply. I grabbed my set and went to change but stopped to look at Bam.
His eyes were on the floor and he looked defeated. "Ville, I don't want to wear those." He sounded so sad I just wanted to hold him, but there would be no touching for a long time. I think we both understood that rule.
"Right, duct tape," I said, rolling my eyes. "What is it with that anyway? Duct tape? Is it really such a bad thing?"
I wasn't thinking as I picked up Bam's clothes and threw them at him.
"It's bad when it's holding you down. And you can't move, breathe. . .scream for help. . ."
His words were mumbles, whispers almost. But I heard each one, and my heart sank.
"Bam, you wanna talk about it?” I stepped towards him, watching him watch the clothes, his eyes tearing up. "Can't be all that bad, Bam. I mean, it's not tape; it's clothes, and anyway you're safe here."
I allowed a small chuckle to follow that, but Bam wasn't laughing.
"I don't wanna talk about it."
"Bam, come on. I'm a friend; you can tell me. Who knows, it might even help you."
I did really want to help him. He was-from what I knew of him-a very nice person, one deserving of a chance at normal life. It was these issues he had that kept him from that. I just wanted to help.
"Have you talked about it with the psychiatrist here?"
He looked at me when I mentioned the psychiatrist. "Mr. Clark. . . .no, I would never. . . .he doesn't need to know. No one does. People make fun of me enough around here.” His voice was sad, as were his eyes as he threw the clothes on the floor. "I won't wear them."
I raised an eyebrow at the comment that people made fun of him, and smiled a little. "Bam, who makes fun of you? I mean, why would they? You are the most normal person here."
That was a compliment.
He shook his head. "I'm not normal, Ville. . .no one is, not even you, although you think you are. People here have a lot to make fun of me about, all thanks to my last fucking roommate."
I smiled as he finished his sentence, feeling like I was finally getting somewhere. "What did your last roommate do wrong?"
Bam sighed a little. “It was my fault; I trusted him and told him everything, and the fucker went out and told everyone else. Now the people here-even the staff-look at me funny. Some even call me names when the staff isn't around, but then again the staff calls me the names, too, so I don't know why the other patients bother to do it in private."
I was fully serious now. "Bam, I'd never do that to you. You can trust me. I just want to help."
He smirked at me; it was kind of cold and sarcastic. “You, help me? Ville, you're just as screwed up as me-how can you help?"
"Bam! I'm not in here because I need to be! The person who brought me here hates me and just wanted to fuck my life up even more! But. . .he's failed."
I wasn't sure where that last part came from. It was as if my feelings decided to make words of themselves and escape through my voice. I wasn't unhappy here, and it was because of Bam. Sure he freaked me out a little last night, but he was a good person and deep down I felt like I was meant to be here, meant to find him, and meant to save him. From whatever was killing this poor person from the inside out.
Bam rolled his eyes again. "Right, Ville, that poor guy saved your life. You should stop putting him down."
He was trying to change the subject, make this about me, when it wasn't.
"Bam, just forget I said that. Look, I want to get along with you; it seems I'm going to be here a while and if I am, I want to know my roommate a little better! And I want to start by knowing what the hell the issue with duct tape is!"
Was it really even that big of a deal? Duct tape? It seemed so very silly, such a simple thing to cause so much commotion.
"I just don't like it, alright!” He was getting annoyed-I could tell by the way he stood and began to pace back and forth, but I wasn't letting it go.
"I'm not letting this go until you tell me," I said, following him to a stand.
"Well, I'm not telling you!" he yelled, pacing faster.
"What are the names, then? Just tell me something; you're a mystery to me and I hate not knowing!" I yelled back.
Bam stopped pacing and stared at me. "Me, a mystery? You're the one bitching about some weird guy who keeps trying to fuck up your life! You're the one with all these weird bruises and cuts and shit! You arrive here, in a fucking institute, with a God complex. You're not here a fucking hour and you're in the safe room, and you're calling me a mystery?"
I couldn't really argue those facts, but still. . .this wasn't about me. "Bam. . . ."
I'll admit, I was going to keep asking, but Bam cut me off.
"You know what? Just forget it!" he yelled through tears. “You wanna know my fucking issue with duct tape? Try having it be the thing holding you down, keeping you from protecting yourself while some fucked up stranger pounds your ass and says shit like 'he's only trying to help' and 'it's for your own good!' Try being stuck in the same place where it happened for two years, and having it happen every other fucking week! There!" he yelled, near hysteria "Now go tell everyone what I said so the fag chants can start! Because I really fucking missed them!"
I was taken aback by the mixture of hysteria and sarcasm in the last part, but more than that, by the truth he'd just given me. I watched as he let himself fall to the floor, pulling himself into a small ball while he cried.
I followed him down, ignoring the 'personal space' rule, and pulled him in my arms tightly. “Shh, Bam; I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm so sorry that happened. I won't tell, I really do just want to help."
I looked at him. His eyes where shut tightly and his body was tense. I decided to just let him go, for his own safety.
I was going to try and talk with him about it-if I'd gotten this far who knew, maybe I really could help him. But the door opened and same guard from before peeked in.
"Ville, Mr. Clark is ready for you, and this time he really means it," the man said with a smile, ignoring the odd scene that was before him-Bam crying and me just watching. I guess the guy was used to odd things.
I smiled at Bam, who was looking at me. He looked almost relieved, like he'd gotten the world off his chest. "We can finish this when I get back?" I asked, to which he nodded. I smiled again and followed the man out the door.
We arrived at the familiar door from yesterday and things played out the same, only this time Bam was safe and the door opened on the first knock.
A well built man opened the door; he wore glasses though it didn't look like he really needed them, the way they just sat there. He had dark blond hair that stuck up in a messy style, and he didn't look one bit professional.
"Ville, I've been waiting to speak with you, come in," he said, stepping aside for me to enter. Once I did he closed the door to the small room, leaving us alone in the only private room in the building. This made me very uncomfortable.
"Ville, have a seat.” He motioned to a chair in front of a desk which he then sat behind. I went ahead and reluctantly sat. He smiled; it was almost creepy. "So, I hear you're rooming with Brand. . .I mean Bam. I bet that's interesting,” he said, flipping through some papers.
"Yes, he's a pretty nice guy." I wanted to keep my answers short and to the point. This guy freaked me out.
"Indeed, he is a very nice person. I meet with him every other week; our sessions are very in-depth."
My eyes widened. Every other week? Surely I was reading into that way too much.
"So Ville, I hear you have issues with sleeping. . .bad dreams?"
He was trying to pry and I wasn't about to let him. I wanted to stay on the subject of Bam.
"If you don't mind my asking, sir, what do you and Bam talk about?"
"Mr. Valo, that is doctor, patient confidential."
Of course he'd say that.
"I know. It's just lately Bam's been worried about stuff. Like. . .well, I know this sounds crazy, but duct tape and being touched at random moments." I watched for his reaction.
He stayed cool, until I was finished, and then he seemed a little angry. "We aren't here to talk about him. We are here to talk about you. Now, I suggest we stay on topic."
I crossed my arms as I watched him. Now I was really freaked out. "I don't want to talk to you."
He stood from his seat and I stood from mine, mainly because I thought he was going to come after me. But he didn't. . .he stayed behind his desk. I felt a little foolish now.
"Mr Valo, you need to pay attention to yourself and no one else, especially not Bam. That boy has enough trouble and I don't need you filling his mind with absurdity. If you can't keep your attitude in check, I'll have you removed from Bam's room and placed in your own cell."
He officially had my attention as I sat back down. I didn't want to be separated from Bam.
He smiled contentedly, like he'd won. . .because in a way he had. "Now, I want you to tell me about your life before you got here."
I hated this part. I didn't want to tell anyone, especially not this creep. But I didn't want to lose Bam, so I spoke up.
"I lived with my friend in a small apartment. He and I worked together at a repo office. We would do the filing while the others went to repossess the vehicles, so we were alone a lot."
He wrote down a few notes and looked back at me. "What was your relationship with him like?"
I swallowed as I remembered things.
"Fine at first, but he was a very dominant person, always wanting to do things that would cause trouble. Like stealing money from the shop, but I wouldn't let him and that's when things got bad. He would steal the money, and beat the hell out of me if I threatened to tell, or even thought of it. With the money he'd get drunk, and things would just get worse from there."
"Worse as in how?"
He was asking things I didn't want to tell, but I did.
"He wanted more than a friendly relationship, and I didn't want to give him one so he took it. Then, when I became of no use to him, he brought me here. There, can I go now?"
He looked at me, confused. "Sir, you really have some issues, but we are going to help you."
"Issues? I was wrongly sent to a nut house. How am I the one with issues?"
"Ville, you hurt yourself."
I flew off the chair again, this time in anger. "I did no such thing!"
"Calm down, or I will be forced to send you back to the 'safe room' as the patients so lovingly call it."
He was standing again, too, only this time he was coming towards me.
I backed up, my back hitting against the door as he stood in front of me. "Wh-what are you doing?" I asked, keeping myself flat against the wall.
He placed a hand on either side of the wall, trapping me between him and the door. "Learn to control your anger, Mr. Valo, or you'll end up just like Bam," he said as he stared-not into my eyes but at my body. My heartbeat sped up.
I tried to speak but couldn't. He noticed and smirked.
"I believe we are done here.” He moved back from me and opened the door I was leaning against. "You have a nice day, Mr. Valo," he said, motioning for the guard to escort me back to my room with Bam.
Author: knoxvilleblue.
Pairing: Vam
Rating: R
Summary: No one believes you when you're crazy.
Disclaimer: Cussing, Sex, Violence
Warnings: Might offend some
Authors Notes: Creative_exile rules.. But we already knew that.
Ville's Point Of View
Sleep was impossible for me that night. Bam passed out after crying himself to sleep. I tried to calm him, to let him know I wasn't upset with him, though inside I was scared to death. But it wasn't Bam's fault-at least I didn’t think that.
I didn't think I'd fallen asleep until I woke up. When I opened my eyes I jumped a little; Bam was sitting right next to my bed, his eyes bright and a smile on his face.
"Bam? It's you, right?" I asked, sitting up a little. I didn't want to deal with the other person dwelling inside of him. Not this early at least.
Bam laughed a little-if only he knew how serious I was. "Duh it's me, who else would it be? Oh. . . .never mind. Well, anyway yeah, it's me."
I smiled in response as I stood from my bed. I looked over at the striped clothes on the floor and frowned.
"Bam, I don't think they will be so kind about those today. You should cooperate and wear them," I said simply. I grabbed my set and went to change but stopped to look at Bam.
His eyes were on the floor and he looked defeated. "Ville, I don't want to wear those." He sounded so sad I just wanted to hold him, but there would be no touching for a long time. I think we both understood that rule.
"Right, duct tape," I said, rolling my eyes. "What is it with that anyway? Duct tape? Is it really such a bad thing?"
I wasn't thinking as I picked up Bam's clothes and threw them at him.
"It's bad when it's holding you down. And you can't move, breathe. . .scream for help. . ."
His words were mumbles, whispers almost. But I heard each one, and my heart sank.
"Bam, you wanna talk about it?” I stepped towards him, watching him watch the clothes, his eyes tearing up. "Can't be all that bad, Bam. I mean, it's not tape; it's clothes, and anyway you're safe here."
I allowed a small chuckle to follow that, but Bam wasn't laughing.
"I don't wanna talk about it."
"Bam, come on. I'm a friend; you can tell me. Who knows, it might even help you."
I did really want to help him. He was-from what I knew of him-a very nice person, one deserving of a chance at normal life. It was these issues he had that kept him from that. I just wanted to help.
"Have you talked about it with the psychiatrist here?"
He looked at me when I mentioned the psychiatrist. "Mr. Clark. . . .no, I would never. . . .he doesn't need to know. No one does. People make fun of me enough around here.” His voice was sad, as were his eyes as he threw the clothes on the floor. "I won't wear them."
I raised an eyebrow at the comment that people made fun of him, and smiled a little. "Bam, who makes fun of you? I mean, why would they? You are the most normal person here."
That was a compliment.
He shook his head. "I'm not normal, Ville. . .no one is, not even you, although you think you are. People here have a lot to make fun of me about, all thanks to my last fucking roommate."
I smiled as he finished his sentence, feeling like I was finally getting somewhere. "What did your last roommate do wrong?"
Bam sighed a little. “It was my fault; I trusted him and told him everything, and the fucker went out and told everyone else. Now the people here-even the staff-look at me funny. Some even call me names when the staff isn't around, but then again the staff calls me the names, too, so I don't know why the other patients bother to do it in private."
I was fully serious now. "Bam, I'd never do that to you. You can trust me. I just want to help."
He smirked at me; it was kind of cold and sarcastic. “You, help me? Ville, you're just as screwed up as me-how can you help?"
"Bam! I'm not in here because I need to be! The person who brought me here hates me and just wanted to fuck my life up even more! But. . .he's failed."
I wasn't sure where that last part came from. It was as if my feelings decided to make words of themselves and escape through my voice. I wasn't unhappy here, and it was because of Bam. Sure he freaked me out a little last night, but he was a good person and deep down I felt like I was meant to be here, meant to find him, and meant to save him. From whatever was killing this poor person from the inside out.
Bam rolled his eyes again. "Right, Ville, that poor guy saved your life. You should stop putting him down."
He was trying to change the subject, make this about me, when it wasn't.
"Bam, just forget I said that. Look, I want to get along with you; it seems I'm going to be here a while and if I am, I want to know my roommate a little better! And I want to start by knowing what the hell the issue with duct tape is!"
Was it really even that big of a deal? Duct tape? It seemed so very silly, such a simple thing to cause so much commotion.
"I just don't like it, alright!” He was getting annoyed-I could tell by the way he stood and began to pace back and forth, but I wasn't letting it go.
"I'm not letting this go until you tell me," I said, following him to a stand.
"Well, I'm not telling you!" he yelled, pacing faster.
"What are the names, then? Just tell me something; you're a mystery to me and I hate not knowing!" I yelled back.
Bam stopped pacing and stared at me. "Me, a mystery? You're the one bitching about some weird guy who keeps trying to fuck up your life! You're the one with all these weird bruises and cuts and shit! You arrive here, in a fucking institute, with a God complex. You're not here a fucking hour and you're in the safe room, and you're calling me a mystery?"
I couldn't really argue those facts, but still. . .this wasn't about me. "Bam. . . ."
I'll admit, I was going to keep asking, but Bam cut me off.
"You know what? Just forget it!" he yelled through tears. “You wanna know my fucking issue with duct tape? Try having it be the thing holding you down, keeping you from protecting yourself while some fucked up stranger pounds your ass and says shit like 'he's only trying to help' and 'it's for your own good!' Try being stuck in the same place where it happened for two years, and having it happen every other fucking week! There!" he yelled, near hysteria "Now go tell everyone what I said so the fag chants can start! Because I really fucking missed them!"
I was taken aback by the mixture of hysteria and sarcasm in the last part, but more than that, by the truth he'd just given me. I watched as he let himself fall to the floor, pulling himself into a small ball while he cried.
I followed him down, ignoring the 'personal space' rule, and pulled him in my arms tightly. “Shh, Bam; I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm so sorry that happened. I won't tell, I really do just want to help."
I looked at him. His eyes where shut tightly and his body was tense. I decided to just let him go, for his own safety.
I was going to try and talk with him about it-if I'd gotten this far who knew, maybe I really could help him. But the door opened and same guard from before peeked in.
"Ville, Mr. Clark is ready for you, and this time he really means it," the man said with a smile, ignoring the odd scene that was before him-Bam crying and me just watching. I guess the guy was used to odd things.
I smiled at Bam, who was looking at me. He looked almost relieved, like he'd gotten the world off his chest. "We can finish this when I get back?" I asked, to which he nodded. I smiled again and followed the man out the door.
We arrived at the familiar door from yesterday and things played out the same, only this time Bam was safe and the door opened on the first knock.
A well built man opened the door; he wore glasses though it didn't look like he really needed them, the way they just sat there. He had dark blond hair that stuck up in a messy style, and he didn't look one bit professional.
"Ville, I've been waiting to speak with you, come in," he said, stepping aside for me to enter. Once I did he closed the door to the small room, leaving us alone in the only private room in the building. This made me very uncomfortable.
"Ville, have a seat.” He motioned to a chair in front of a desk which he then sat behind. I went ahead and reluctantly sat. He smiled; it was almost creepy. "So, I hear you're rooming with Brand. . .I mean Bam. I bet that's interesting,” he said, flipping through some papers.
"Yes, he's a pretty nice guy." I wanted to keep my answers short and to the point. This guy freaked me out.
"Indeed, he is a very nice person. I meet with him every other week; our sessions are very in-depth."
My eyes widened. Every other week? Surely I was reading into that way too much.
"So Ville, I hear you have issues with sleeping. . .bad dreams?"
He was trying to pry and I wasn't about to let him. I wanted to stay on the subject of Bam.
"If you don't mind my asking, sir, what do you and Bam talk about?"
"Mr. Valo, that is doctor, patient confidential."
Of course he'd say that.
"I know. It's just lately Bam's been worried about stuff. Like. . .well, I know this sounds crazy, but duct tape and being touched at random moments." I watched for his reaction.
He stayed cool, until I was finished, and then he seemed a little angry. "We aren't here to talk about him. We are here to talk about you. Now, I suggest we stay on topic."
I crossed my arms as I watched him. Now I was really freaked out. "I don't want to talk to you."
He stood from his seat and I stood from mine, mainly because I thought he was going to come after me. But he didn't. . .he stayed behind his desk. I felt a little foolish now.
"Mr Valo, you need to pay attention to yourself and no one else, especially not Bam. That boy has enough trouble and I don't need you filling his mind with absurdity. If you can't keep your attitude in check, I'll have you removed from Bam's room and placed in your own cell."
He officially had my attention as I sat back down. I didn't want to be separated from Bam.
He smiled contentedly, like he'd won. . .because in a way he had. "Now, I want you to tell me about your life before you got here."
I hated this part. I didn't want to tell anyone, especially not this creep. But I didn't want to lose Bam, so I spoke up.
"I lived with my friend in a small apartment. He and I worked together at a repo office. We would do the filing while the others went to repossess the vehicles, so we were alone a lot."
He wrote down a few notes and looked back at me. "What was your relationship with him like?"
I swallowed as I remembered things.
"Fine at first, but he was a very dominant person, always wanting to do things that would cause trouble. Like stealing money from the shop, but I wouldn't let him and that's when things got bad. He would steal the money, and beat the hell out of me if I threatened to tell, or even thought of it. With the money he'd get drunk, and things would just get worse from there."
"Worse as in how?"
He was asking things I didn't want to tell, but I did.
"He wanted more than a friendly relationship, and I didn't want to give him one so he took it. Then, when I became of no use to him, he brought me here. There, can I go now?"
He looked at me, confused. "Sir, you really have some issues, but we are going to help you."
"Issues? I was wrongly sent to a nut house. How am I the one with issues?"
"Ville, you hurt yourself."
I flew off the chair again, this time in anger. "I did no such thing!"
"Calm down, or I will be forced to send you back to the 'safe room' as the patients so lovingly call it."
He was standing again, too, only this time he was coming towards me.
I backed up, my back hitting against the door as he stood in front of me. "Wh-what are you doing?" I asked, keeping myself flat against the wall.
He placed a hand on either side of the wall, trapping me between him and the door. "Learn to control your anger, Mr. Valo, or you'll end up just like Bam," he said as he stared-not into my eyes but at my body. My heartbeat sped up.
I tried to speak but couldn't. He noticed and smirked.
"I believe we are done here.” He moved back from me and opened the door I was leaning against. "You have a nice day, Mr. Valo," he said, motioning for the guard to escort me back to my room with Bam.