Pairing: W/S overall, but this one’s just about Willow
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: ‘Lover’s Walk’, ‘Graduation Day’
Summary: Willow is institutionalized in the mental hospital from hell.
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse belongs to Joss, he is Zeus and I am merely a lesser being, like a nixie or sprite.
Distribution: If you want it, fine by me, just drop me a line first.
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Patient log: Willow Marie Rosenberg
Date: 01/12/01
The patient seems to be returning back to her previous, more stable, state of mind, that is to say she is behaving less violently. However, I believe she is far from being ready for release. She still suffers under the delusion that she has been attacked by an employee, as is previously noted in her patient files, and now further believes that she is pregnant. It was a little disturbing when she actually started showing some pregnancy symptoms, but after having a thorough physical, I was assured that she is not pregnant, but is suffering from ‘hysterical pregnancy’, which of course is very rare. To think this girl could create a delusion, so real in her mind, as to fool her body into believing that it is actually pregnant, is astounding.
Due to her reduction in violent outbursts, I have decided to lower her level of anti-psychotics again, to 25 mg daily of the Clozapine, which seems to be having less side effects than the Haloperidol. I have also placed her on a multivitamin for her anemia and low vitamin B levels.
Dick Scholten MD., Attending Physician
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Willow leaned back in her chair somewhat, trying to stretch her aching back, one hand resting on her swollen belly. According to Dr. Andersen, her obstetrician, she only had five weeks left to go. She was so excited; she was going to be a mother! There would finally be a person in her life that she could love who wouldn’t leave her. She hoped she had a son, although a daughter would be nice too. The doctor had offered to tell her the sex of the child, but she wanted to be surprised.
“Thinking about the baby again?” Cheryl asked, pulling Willow out of her thoughts.
“Hmmm? Yeah, I guess I’m just wondering what it’ll be like.”
“Don’t worry; you’ll be a great mother. Have you decided on any names yet?”
“Well, if it’s a girl, I like the name Lily Elspeth, and if it’s a boy, William Alexander.”
“William, huh? That wouldn’t happen to be the name of the guy you’re always thinking about when you’re working on the potter’s wheel, would it?”
“Maybe,” Willow said with a sad smile. She didn’t understand why Spike had never come for her; perhaps he had never really loved her at all. Still she couldn’t help loving him, no matter how hard she tried not to. She attempted to shake off her gloom before continuing, “Anyway, have you had any luck talking to Dr. Scholten?”
“I’m afraid not, he won’t see me. What did he say to you the last time ‘you’ talked to him?” Cheryl asked with a hushed tone.
“It was really weird. First he didn’t want to discuss it at all, then when I asked him about arranging for me to keep my baby here until I was released, he said I shouldn’t persist with my false delusions of being pregnant. It was really freaky! For a minute I thought maybe I really had gone crazy and was hearing things, but now I’m wondering if it’s Dr. Scholten who’s gone crazy. Either way, it really creeped me out.” Willow said with a slight shudder.
“Huh, that is weird. Well, tell you what, I’ll keep trying to talk to him,” then Cheryl dropped her voice so low, that Willow had to strain to hear her, “but I’ll also see what I can find out from my friends on the nursing staff, most of them don’t like Dr. Scholten, he gives them the creeps too. Maybe he’s up to something.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to know someone’s looking out for me.” Willow said, giving her a quick hug, before hopping up to waddle off to the bathroom for the tenth time that morning.
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“It’s time for your medication Miss Rosenberg,” said the night orderly, Pete.
Willow took the pill, put it in her mouth and washed it down with a drink of water. Pete nodded when she opened her mouth to verify that it was gone. After the incident with John, the rest of the male staff members were afraid to get too close to her, even to check to see if she had taken her meds properly, for fear that she would cry ‘rape’. As he left, Willow pulled the pill out of her mouth, adding it to the collection she kept stashed in the space beneath her bottom desk drawer. She had neglected to take them since she had learned about the pregnancy. It was fortunate that all the male staff were a bit nervous around her, because it made it that much easier to skip out on taking them.
She climbed into bed, grabbing her book, “The Master and Margarita,” by Bulgakov. Cheryl had gotten it for her a few days ago, and she was already almost through with it. She loved how towards the end, the devil, who loved Margarita, gave her the ability to have one thing, and she chose to be with her master again. Willow could relate to that. It was pathetic, she knew, but she wanted nothing more than to be back with Spike, someplace far away, where she was free to raise her baby in peace. It was just a stupid dream though. Hell, Spike would probably eat her baby, being a vampire and all, but still it brought her a small amount of comfort, imagining the three of them together.
She closed her book, trying again not to think of him, she needed to move on with her life. After all, she was going to be someone’s mother soon, and she was determined to be more attentive than her own parents had been. She tried to imagine what her child would look like, and hoped they would look like her, not their ‘father’. Visions of little fingers and little smiles danced through her head and she let out a contented sigh, as she reached out and switched off the light, quickly falling asleep.
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Willow woke to the feeling of cramping in her belly, and wetness all around her legs. ‘Oh Goddess, don’t tell me I wet the bed,’ she thought with disgust through her sleepy haze. Then another, much stronger cramp hit her, causing her to grip her bed rails, yelling out with a mixture of pain and fear as the realization of labor hit her. Was it supposed to hurt this bad?
As soon as the contraction passed, she left her room, heading for the nurse’s station. She made it about three quarters of the way before the next contraction hit, even harder this time, making her collapse to the floor, screaming.
Pete, who had been in the office, napping, was jolted awake with a start, and rushed to see what was wrong. When he found Willow lying in the darkened hallway, he panicked and ran back to the office, pressing the alert button before calling 911.
Suddenly Willow was surrounded by all the staff on duty, which still wasn’t much considering the late hour, but it did make her feel a little better not being alone. The ambulance arrived quickly to take her to the hospital. Originally the plan was for her to have her baby there, at the attached clinic; Dr. Andersen was going to be on call for the week of her due date. There had been some concerns about Willow being taken outside of Marion, and whether she would try to run. Dr. Andersen assured Dr. Scholten, that she thought it was highly unlikely that Willow would have the energy to run anywhere, but Dr. Scholten had been insistent that she not leave Marion.
Unfortunately though, Willow wasn’t due for another two weeks, and when Pete called the hospital, it turned out that Dr. Andersen was out of town for a few days, so the plan had to be changed. Willow was scared at the thought of some doctor she didn’t know delivering her child into the world, but she was also grateful that her baby wouldn’t be born in some stinking loony bin. As she was loaded into the ambulance, she marveled at the thought that this would be the first time she would be away from the center in almost two years.
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“You’re doing great Willow. Now take a moment to rest, and when you feel the next contraction coming I want you to push as hard as you can, ok?” some unknown doctor was telling her.
“I can’t. Please, I can’t do it anymore,” Willow cried, pulling at the restraints binding her wrists to the guard rails. Dr. Scholten had insisted she wear them, he was still convinced she was going to make a break for it. Willow felt another contraction coming, and began to sob uncontrollably. They had given her nothing for the pain, concerned that it would have a bad reaction with her other medication, and yet somehow expected her to still breathe while she felt like she was being ripped in two.
“This is it Willow, we’re almost there. Now I need you to push hard. Come on, push, push, push…”
“Oh Godddddess!!!” Willow screamed, as she pushed with all she had left in her.
“The head is out! You’re doing great, you’re so strong Willow! We’re almost done. I just need you to give me one more good push with the next contraction.”
“Please, I want my mom,” Willow whimpered, sounding like a scared child, tears streaming down her cheeks. At that moment all thoughts of her mother’s betrayal were gone, she just wanted to be held and reassured that everything would be alright, “Dr. Scholten said he would call her. Please, I want my mommy.”
“I’m sure he’s calling her now,” the doctor said, noticing her beginning to tense up again with another contraction, “Now it’s time to push, push, push…”
Dr. Scholten watched the scene before him with distaste. He wondered absently how things had become so twisted. He had taken Willow into his program as a favor to her mother, Sheila, and then the stupid brat went and got knocked up, which of course lent all kinds of credibility to her rape story. If word were to get out, he and the center would both be open to review and possible malpractice suits. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter how much he liked Sheila.
So he did the only thing he could, he discreetly told Willow’s parents that she had been caught having inappropriate contact with another patient, who’s name could not be disclosed for confidentiality reasons, and had gotten pregnant. He fired John, the orderly, for something trivial and unrelated. Then he doctored her patient records to cover all evidence of the pregnancy, making it look like some elaborate delusion instead, which left only the baby itself to be dealt with.
He had tried very hard to convince Willow to have an abortion, even her parents had written her a letter suggesting the same, but she had flat out refused. He tried to find a doctor that would perform the procedure anyway, but no one would without her consent. So, he came up with the next best thing. Willow would have her baby, all evidence of it however would be covered up, and the baby itself would be put up for adoption. Her parents had agreed that this was for the best and even made all the adoption arrangements. It was bad enough for them, two noted psychologists, having to live with the shame that their own daughter was hopelessly deranged, but they weren’t about to be saddled with her bastard child as well.
Dr. Scholten was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of a baby crying, and rushed in to intercept the doctor before he could hand the baby to Willow.
“I don’t think his color looks quite right doctor,” Dr. Scholten said as he grabbed the screaming infant away, “I was afraid there might be some problems because of the medication Willow was on, we better have him checked out immediately.”
“He looks fine to me…” the doctor started to say before Willow interrupted him.
“I haven’t been taking any medication, please let me have my son!”
“Now Willow, don’t upset yourself. We’re just going to have him looked over to be sure he’s alright. You want to be sure he’s ok, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said hesitantly. She didn’t trust this man, but she didn’t want to take any risks with her son’s health either. After all, he was two weeks premature, and very small.
“Good, now you try to rest, and I’ll bring him back soon.”
“Wait,” she pleaded, “can I at least give him a kiss first? I still haven’t seen his face.”
“Of course,” he said, leaning over her with the tiny infant.
He was the most beautiful thing Willow had ever seen. He was so small, but still had a perfect little face, and perfect little fingers poking out from under his blanket. His eyes were half closed, and Willow couldn’t tell if they were blue or green, but there was no mistaking the color of his hair, which was shocking red, standing straight up all over his head, resembling a halo. She felt like her heart would burst, just looking at him. She leaned her weary head over and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead, dropping two fat tears on him as well. As long as she lived, she knew she could never love anyone or anything as much as she did this little ball of pink flesh, her son, William.
“Try to get some rest, and I promise I’ll have him back soon,” Dr. Scholten said as he headed out the door, followed closely by the obstetrician who had just delivered the boy.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly do you think you’re doing taking that child away from his mother the moment he’s been born?” the doctor asked angrily once they were out of the room, “You know as well as I do that there is absolutely nothing wrong with him, aside from being born slightly premature.”
“Not that it’s any of your concern doctor, but I’m afraid it was necessary to get him away from her as quickly as possible. The girl is quite disturbed, and extremely dangerous. This is her third child, and she has already killed the first two,” he lied, giving the other doctor a hard stare until he saw him look away.
“I see,” he said finally, “What will be done with the child?”
“He will be cared for. It’s all already been arranged. I suggest you not mention it to anyone though. The girl can never learn the truth of what’s happened to the child, for his own safety of course.”
“Of course,” the doctor said, walking away feeling useless.
Dr. Scholten walked into the lounge, and handed the child over to a man from the adoption agency. He would spend the next few days in another hospital to verify that he was indeed healthy, and from there he would be taken to his final destination. Now all that was left was to deal with Willow.
He headed back into her room, where she was dozing lightly, and gave her an injection of Diazepam into her IV drip. Thus ensuring that she would soon be sleeping soundly, and would stay that way well into the next day. Looking at her lying there, clearly exhausted with her hair fanned out on the pillow beside her, she looked so helpless and for a moment he felt sorry for her, but he shook it off. This had to be done.
“Willow? Willow, wake up, I need you to sign some papers.”
“What? Where’s William?” she asked groggily.
“He’s being checked over by the doctors, don’t worry. Now I need you to sign these birth certificate forms.”
“Can’t I do it in the morning? I’m tired.”
“No, it needs to be now,” he said, pushing the adoption papers in front of her, and hoping that the mixture of exhaustion and medication would keep her from reading them.
She fumbled with the pen, having some difficulty with her restraints, as she scrawled her name across the bottom of the pages, “Please, can I have my baby back now?”
“I’ll have the nurse bring him back to you soon, now why don’t you get some rest until then,” he said, looking up and noticing that she had already fallen back to sleep.
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“Where is my baby?!” Willow screamed, when no one would tell her where her son was. Dr. Scholten came in then, wearing a very serious expression. “Finally! Please Dr. Scholten, no one will tell me where William is, you’ve got to help me,” she pleaded, her voice full of panic as she pulled desperately at her restraints, determined to free herself so she could find her son.
“Willow, I have some bad news,” Dr. Scholten said, looming over her ominously, “I’m afraid there were some complications. I believe the problem was caused by a combination of the medications you were taking during your pregnancy, together with your premature delivery…”
“What are you trying to say? Where is my son?!”
“I’m afraid he passed away several hours ago. We did all we could, but he was just so small, that he never really had a chance.”
“Nooooo!!!” Willow screamed, thrashing against her restraints harder, “You’re lying! Where is my son?! I Want to see William!”
“Nurse, we’re going to need a sedative for her!” he yelled down the hall.
As Willow struggled to maintain consciousness against the drug, all she could see was her son’s face, like a cherub with a halo of red around his tiny head. She didn’t know how she could possibly go on with out him; she didn’t even want to try.
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Patient log: Willow Marie Rosenberg
Date: 02/16/01
I’m sorry to report that the patient tried to commit suicide sometime last night. The night orderly found her during his rounds, having convulsions. He found some pills on her floor; apparently she had been stockpiling her daily meds for this very purpose. She was rushed to the clinic of course, and the nurse on duty administered activated charcoal to counteract the effects of the overdose. Fortunately she was able to be saved, but she will need to have her cardiac signs monitored for several days to be sure there is no permanent damage.
At this time I am putting a hold on all her medications until I have a better knowledge of her status. I have also made arrangements for her to be placed in the Quiet Room until further notice, once she is released, so that it will be easier to monitor her.
Dick Scholten MD., Attending Physician
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Willow sat rocking like some kind of neurotic monkey, her arms bound tightly by her straightjacket. As she rocked her lank dirty hair swung back and forth in time with the motion of her body, and she hummed to herself the same tune she used to hum to Spike when he couldn’t sleep, some forgotten lullaby of her childhood. Her eyes stared out at the dingy grey-white walls, unblinking and unseeing. All there was was his face, her cherub, born on Valentine’s Day, wearing his halo of red. She didn’t cry anymore, she had no more tears left.
She was vaguely aware that people had been in to see her, mostly
Dr. Scholten, threatening to send her back to the clinic for a feeding
tube if she didn’t start eating, but she simply ignored him. She had grown
extremely thin. All signs of her leftover pregnancy weight were long gone.
Her face had begun to take on a skull like appearance with her sunken cheeks
and large dark circles around her eyes.
Cheryl was always sneaking chocolate, or some other kind of contraband into her, trying to tempt her into eating something, but it was no use. Willow felt dead inside and was content to simply fade into nothing. Cheryl, however, was determined to snap her out of it, and would spend a couple hours everyday in the Quiet Room with Willow, reading to her, talking to her, and holding her while she rocked. She hated seeing her friend this way. Willow didn’t belong in this place, she never had. Cheryl had told Dr. Scholten from the beginning that the poor girl should be released, but she was just a glorified art teacher, no one would listen to her.
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Patient log: Willow Marie Rosenberg
Date: 04/20/01
After careful consideration I have decided that the patient is a prime candidate for electroconvulsive therapy. She has been unresponsive to all other forms of treatment for her severe depression, and I believe that this solution may finally give her the therapeutic results desired. I have already discussed this option with her parents, who have both consented to the procedure, and a twelve treatment series has been decided upon.
I attempted to discuss the ECT procedure with the patient as well, to help her feel somewhat prepared, or at least informed. However, her despondency has made rather laconic, so I’m unsure if she understood. Still, there is no time for delay. All the preparations have been made, and she will receive her first treatment day after tomorrow.
Dick Scholten MD., Attending Physician
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Cheryl looked around her cramped studio, unsure where to begin her packing. She was so mad it was hard to concentrate. When she had heard from one of her friends on the nursing staff that Dr. Scholten had decided to give Willow ECT treatments, she had gone immediately to confront him. It was outrageous all the despicable things that man had put Willow through and she told him so. Dr. Scholten however, never lost his cool for a second. He simply informed Cheryl that it was obvious she had become too emotionally involved with her patient, and dismissed her without prejudice. She felt like crying, and wondered who was going to look after that poor little girl now.
Willow sat rocking, as she had for what seemed a very long time now. In the morning she would be going in for her first shock treatment. She knew she should be scared, but she wasn’t, none of it mattered now. She had already lost everything that was ever important to her, her parents, her friends, Spike, her son. Let them fry her brain, it couldn’t possibly be any worse than everything else she had already been through.
Willow heard a sound then that drew her out of her thoughts for a moment, a sort of crashing breaking sound somewhere nearby. Someone must have knocked over the med cart again she thought as she went back to her rocking. She heard the door open behind her, but she didn’t look to see who it was. She knew it was Pete with her evening meds, and saw no reason to stop her rocking.
“There you are poppet. I’ve been looking all over for you,” said a woman with a cockney accent.
Willow spun around to see Drusilla standing in front of her wearing a delighted grin. She opened her mouth to speak, but could find nothing to say, so she closed it again.
“Well come on little tree, we don’t have all night,” Drusilla said, helping her up onto wobbly legs and quickly unbuckling her straightjacket, “Don’t worry, Auntie Dru is going to take good care of you. Oh we are going to have so much fun!” and with that she ushered Willow out of the room.
Once they were out in the hall, Willow saw that the med cart had in fact been knocked over, probably by Pete when he was trying to escape from Drusilla, she guessed, noticing his lifeless body further on down the hall. As they neared the main exit, Willow saw that she had killed both of the guards as well. ‘Good,’ she thought, ‘I never liked them anyway.’ Once they were outside, Willow took a moment to breathe deep the night air, while Drusilla motioned for her minion to pull the car around.
“Willow, what are you doing out here?” she heard Cheryl’s voice calling out to her. She turned to see her friend holding a box of her belongings which she had been about to load into her car. But before she could answer, Drusilla turned towards the woman in full vamp mode, stalking towards her next prey.
“Drusilla, please wait! Don’t kill her, she’s my friend!” Willow cried out, causing Dru to freeze in her tracks, and look at her questioningly. Willow approached Cheryl then, and gave her a firm hug and a reassuring look to try to combat the woman’s obvious terror. “Cheryl, thank you for always being so kind to me, but I’ve got to go now. Take care of yourself.” And with another quick squeeze, Willow followed Drusilla into the large sedan and drove off into the night.