![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
open_flameCharacters: Liz Sherman with mentions and appearances of various others
Fandom: Hellboy
Setting: Bump in the Night Verse Pre-Hellboy Movie; Post 'Pittsburgh Incident'
Rating: R (Suicide, Drug Abuse, Mental Illness)
Word Count: 1200 total
Prompt: The Dresden Dolls: Girl Anachronism
AN: More ficlets spanning Liz's time at Bellemie Psychiatric Hospital. Once again![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
captain_flyboy is at the heart of the desire to write these. That and my fixation on Crazy!Liz
It's just the temperature.
She was shaking like a leaf, which was odd considering the time of year. Making it even odder was the fact the young woman scrunched down in the chair across from her was bundled in layer upon layer of clothes and visibly sweating, as if one moment she was to hot to bare it and the next she may as well have been encased in ice.
“Just...just...Put me down. I know you can do it. They do it, so you can do it. I know you can do it.” Liz frantically whispered as she pulled her knees to her chest. “I...won't. I don't think I can but...if I don't dream it doesn't happen.” A gasping, tear choked sob fell out of her mouth as she picked her head up. “I promise. If...you don't... I will...and it won't be temporary.”
“That won't be necessary,” Dr. Marsh raised her hand to silence another string of words that made enough sense for her not to turn the woman who shivered before her away. “Arrangements have been made.” Marsh said softly as she looked over the paper that had been placed before her during Liz Sherman's admission interview.
It's not the way I'm meant to be.
Forty-eight hours without incident. Trevor Broom was impressed considering Elizabeth's emotional state when she left the BPRD, but then he also wasn't considering the fact she was sedated and strapped with metal bars to a fireproof slab.
“Has she done anything but sleep?” Trevor asked the frail looking blond who stood watching him as he watched Liz.
“Nothing.” Dr. Marsh confirmed softly. “As you suggested the dosage of sedative is higher than required for her body size, and it has kept her neurological function down enough to prevent dreaming.” She sighed, wondering how to address this old man before her. Finally she just dove in. Directness was always best, if the person could handle it.
“I don't feel she belongs here.” Marsh said firmly. Her forehead crinkled as she frowned when Broom started to chuckled. “Certainly not.” he confirmed with a nod.
Marsh stared at the professor, truly confused. “Then why did you insist she...” The doctor began before Broom cut her off. “Getting Elizabeth to accept where she truly belongs is taking longer than I could have foreseen.”
Marsh scowled, then looked into the room where Liz slept. “How can you know where she belongs. No one can see that.” Marsh insisted as Broom chuckled again, this time with a touch more sadness. “Have faith.” he said simply before walking away.
It was accidentally on purpose
“Please,” Liz was whining, running her fingers though her hair every few seconds as she paced around the courtyard. “Come on, just one. It's not gonna kill me if you bum me one little smoke, Clay. Please.” She rushed over to Hellboy's liaison, bony fingers clutching his suit jacket before he could stop her.
“Kid, the last thing you need is more drugs.” Clay shook his head again. “I get it, I do, but I ain't gonna be the one to help you with...this.” He nodded at her trembling fingers. “It'll pass. Try chewing gum or something.“ he suggested.
Liz whimpered as she shoved her hands in the pockets of her hooded jacket, trying to calm her shaking. “What if it doesn't?” She asked before pulling her hands out, making an explosion motion, them scrunched herself down tightly as if she'd get in trouble for the action.
“It will.” Clay assured her, reaching his thick fingers up to untangle a few of the knots she'd put in her own hair. “You are stronger than it.” he promised her before looking up to see the BPRD car pull back around. “I gotta go, kid.” Clay said gently before walking away from her.
Liz groaned in frustration, shaking her head several times before yelling across the courtyard. “I'M DREAMING AGAIN!”
It stopped Agent Clay dead in his tracks, the cigarette he'd just placed in his lips crushing as he tightened his lips. He said nothing as he stealthily allowed the pack of smoked to 'miss' his jacket pocket before walking to the car.
The attention just encourages her.
“I wanna raise!” The orderly who'd been assigned to be Liz Sherman's watchdog growled as he wiped flame suppressant gel from his face. “This is bullshit! Just let her crash and burn! Let her kill her fuckin' self, that's what she wants.”
“Keep your voice down, please.” Dr. Marsh nodded to the woman who was slumped on the floor around a smoking couch. Liz grumbled, the shot of sedative that had been driven into her neck a minute before had not fully taking effect yet.
“Why?” the orderly, who was aptly named Richard, and went by Dick for short, snapped back. “Think she's gonna cry. Gonna beg ya for more drugs, gonna make more of your shrinks quit?” he yelled as a few of his coworker strapped Liz to a stretcher. Dick was kind enough, if you could call it kind, to wait until Liz was gone to finish his thought. “This babying her, all this attention and special treatment just encourages her.” He spat before pushing past Marsh. “Just 'cause she's a freak don't mean she's special.” he grumbled before heading to the shower room.
It's just the way the medication makes her.
It was meant to be therapeutic. Counting pills into little paper cups with patient numbers stickered to the side. Pouring water into matching cups. Lining it all up on a tray and handing it out to her fellow residents. It was normal. It was a reward for her so called good behavior. Not like it didn't takes them just as long to double check she'd done it right, but the gesture of trust was appreciated.
Liz wondered how many people were watching her on the cameras that dotted the walls. Did they expect her to steal the pills, which she'd considered more than once. She knew better, though. The exact cocktail that kept her unconscious for so long was complex, and some of this shit she was doling out was lethal if you gave too much. Guess that meant her suicide watch was finally over, too.
She sighed, pulling the sweater she'd brought with her as she went to the lounge area, passing out pills and water to each patients as most of them simply grunted and swallowed the medication dry.
She sighed again, flopping the empty tray onto a table as she walked down into the hall. Slowly, because there were people here in the clump of residents she joined that were terrified of sudden motion. Liz was almost to her room when the exclamation hit her ears.
“There's a big red man down there.” Liz jerked her head around, meeting Dr. Marsh's eyes as the doctor tried to comfort the pointing patient who had noticed something odd though the window. Liz held Marsh's gaze long enough to get a nod in conformation before she rushed down the steps to get outdoors.
Fandom: Hellboy
Setting: Bump in the Night Verse Pre-Hellboy Movie; Post 'Pittsburgh Incident'
Rating: R (Suicide, Drug Abuse, Mental Illness)
Word Count: 1200 total
Prompt: The Dresden Dolls: Girl Anachronism
AN: More ficlets spanning Liz's time at Bellemie Psychiatric Hospital. Once again
captain_flyboy is at the heart of the desire to write these. That and my fixation on Crazy!LizIt's just the temperature.
She was shaking like a leaf, which was odd considering the time of year. Making it even odder was the fact the young woman scrunched down in the chair across from her was bundled in layer upon layer of clothes and visibly sweating, as if one moment she was to hot to bare it and the next she may as well have been encased in ice.
“Just...just...Put me down. I know you can do it. They do it, so you can do it. I know you can do it.” Liz frantically whispered as she pulled her knees to her chest. “I...won't. I don't think I can but...if I don't dream it doesn't happen.” A gasping, tear choked sob fell out of her mouth as she picked her head up. “I promise. If...you don't... I will...and it won't be temporary.”
“That won't be necessary,” Dr. Marsh raised her hand to silence another string of words that made enough sense for her not to turn the woman who shivered before her away. “Arrangements have been made.” Marsh said softly as she looked over the paper that had been placed before her during Liz Sherman's admission interview.
It's not the way I'm meant to be.
Forty-eight hours without incident. Trevor Broom was impressed considering Elizabeth's emotional state when she left the BPRD, but then he also wasn't considering the fact she was sedated and strapped with metal bars to a fireproof slab.
“Has she done anything but sleep?” Trevor asked the frail looking blond who stood watching him as he watched Liz.
“Nothing.” Dr. Marsh confirmed softly. “As you suggested the dosage of sedative is higher than required for her body size, and it has kept her neurological function down enough to prevent dreaming.” She sighed, wondering how to address this old man before her. Finally she just dove in. Directness was always best, if the person could handle it.
“I don't feel she belongs here.” Marsh said firmly. Her forehead crinkled as she frowned when Broom started to chuckled. “Certainly not.” he confirmed with a nod.
Marsh stared at the professor, truly confused. “Then why did you insist she...” The doctor began before Broom cut her off. “Getting Elizabeth to accept where she truly belongs is taking longer than I could have foreseen.”
Marsh scowled, then looked into the room where Liz slept. “How can you know where she belongs. No one can see that.” Marsh insisted as Broom chuckled again, this time with a touch more sadness. “Have faith.” he said simply before walking away.
It was accidentally on purpose
“Please,” Liz was whining, running her fingers though her hair every few seconds as she paced around the courtyard. “Come on, just one. It's not gonna kill me if you bum me one little smoke, Clay. Please.” She rushed over to Hellboy's liaison, bony fingers clutching his suit jacket before he could stop her.
“Kid, the last thing you need is more drugs.” Clay shook his head again. “I get it, I do, but I ain't gonna be the one to help you with...this.” He nodded at her trembling fingers. “It'll pass. Try chewing gum or something.“ he suggested.
Liz whimpered as she shoved her hands in the pockets of her hooded jacket, trying to calm her shaking. “What if it doesn't?” She asked before pulling her hands out, making an explosion motion, them scrunched herself down tightly as if she'd get in trouble for the action.
“It will.” Clay assured her, reaching his thick fingers up to untangle a few of the knots she'd put in her own hair. “You are stronger than it.” he promised her before looking up to see the BPRD car pull back around. “I gotta go, kid.” Clay said gently before walking away from her.
Liz groaned in frustration, shaking her head several times before yelling across the courtyard. “I'M DREAMING AGAIN!”
It stopped Agent Clay dead in his tracks, the cigarette he'd just placed in his lips crushing as he tightened his lips. He said nothing as he stealthily allowed the pack of smoked to 'miss' his jacket pocket before walking to the car.
The attention just encourages her.
“I wanna raise!” The orderly who'd been assigned to be Liz Sherman's watchdog growled as he wiped flame suppressant gel from his face. “This is bullshit! Just let her crash and burn! Let her kill her fuckin' self, that's what she wants.”
“Keep your voice down, please.” Dr. Marsh nodded to the woman who was slumped on the floor around a smoking couch. Liz grumbled, the shot of sedative that had been driven into her neck a minute before had not fully taking effect yet.
“Why?” the orderly, who was aptly named Richard, and went by Dick for short, snapped back. “Think she's gonna cry. Gonna beg ya for more drugs, gonna make more of your shrinks quit?” he yelled as a few of his coworker strapped Liz to a stretcher. Dick was kind enough, if you could call it kind, to wait until Liz was gone to finish his thought. “This babying her, all this attention and special treatment just encourages her.” He spat before pushing past Marsh. “Just 'cause she's a freak don't mean she's special.” he grumbled before heading to the shower room.
It's just the way the medication makes her.
It was meant to be therapeutic. Counting pills into little paper cups with patient numbers stickered to the side. Pouring water into matching cups. Lining it all up on a tray and handing it out to her fellow residents. It was normal. It was a reward for her so called good behavior. Not like it didn't takes them just as long to double check she'd done it right, but the gesture of trust was appreciated.
Liz wondered how many people were watching her on the cameras that dotted the walls. Did they expect her to steal the pills, which she'd considered more than once. She knew better, though. The exact cocktail that kept her unconscious for so long was complex, and some of this shit she was doling out was lethal if you gave too much. Guess that meant her suicide watch was finally over, too.
She sighed, pulling the sweater she'd brought with her as she went to the lounge area, passing out pills and water to each patients as most of them simply grunted and swallowed the medication dry.
She sighed again, flopping the empty tray onto a table as she walked down into the hall. Slowly, because there were people here in the clump of residents she joined that were terrified of sudden motion. Liz was almost to her room when the exclamation hit her ears.
“There's a big red man down there.” Liz jerked her head around, meeting Dr. Marsh's eyes as the doctor tried to comfort the pointing patient who had noticed something odd though the window. Liz held Marsh's gaze long enough to get a nod in conformation before she rushed down the steps to get outdoors.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}