CASEY, never let me go!

[DR. JACOB RYAN COLLINS]

people change and promises are broken
clouds can move and skies will be wide open

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Jacob sighed as he made his way through the empty hallways into the courtyard, pulling out a pack of smokes as he stood in the very edge of the smoke-pit. Taking a few minutes to himself, the therapist relished in the fact that he had the rest of the afternoon off, except for those few random patients who thought they could just pop in whenever they wanted to. The short haired 36 year old sighed as he flicked ashes onto the ground, thinking about the last of the patients as he had of the day. From what the files had said, the therapist couldn’t really help some of these patients; they had issues that linked back to their childhood, and Collins actually hated hearing their life stories. He had his own childhood issues to deal with, he didn’t need to worry about what happened to them fifteen years ago.

Once he was finished his smoke-break the therapist returned to the courtyard and sat at one of the rickety benches around the yard. Not only was he on yard duty but he needed to take a piss real bad. Swearing under his breath he leaned against the back of the bench, closed his eyes and allowed the sun to pour down on him and the almost empty courtyard.

”you speaking?”

TAGGED ! [/color]casey wilson.
LYRICS ! the shortest line - social code
WORDS ! 217
OUTFIT ! no outfit!
CREDIT ! MEELA! on CAUTION 2.0![/font][/size]

[CASEY AIDEN WILSON]

Outside. Somewhat less like a prison than the rest of the place. However, outside was also a rather dangerous place for one as 'accident prone' as Casey was. The skittish blonde had been innocently minding her own business when someone had scared the hell out of her by jumping out of a bush and screaming. Naturally, her first instinct had been to punch the guy in the face, which she had done without even thinking about it. His mouth had still been open from shouting at her though, and one of her knuckles had torn open on a tooth.

While both disgusted, and being driven mad by the stinging pain of the small but rather deep cut, she spotted Jacob sitting on a bench. She eyed him somewhat warily. The man was making progress towards having her trust, it was difficult though. After the hell her father had put her through, it was hard to trust anyone, especially adult males. Approaching him silently, she sat down on the bench at the other end, seemingly as far away as she could possibly get without falling off.
"I need a bandaid. I want a Spongebob one." she stated bluntly.

[DR. JACOB RYAN COLLINS]

people change and promises are broken
clouds can move and skies will be wide open

[/size][/center][/color][/i]

Jacob felt as if he could hear the grass bend to make room for the feet that made their way over to the rickety bench he was sitting on. Sadly though no one had really spoken until the weight at the opposite end reached the therapist. He didn’t open his eyes as a familiar voice asked for a band-aid… a Spongebob band-aid. Casey. The male had seen her file in one of the many boxes that were starting to fill his office for patients; he had briefly read it before his first appointment started, leaving him troubled as he allowed both his troubles and the patients’ of the day rest on the forefront of his mind.

That was nearly a year ago now, a painful experience to rid him of his casual feel, and bring on the darkened state of mind caused by being around teens like the ones here in the asylum.

“Spongebob? I don’t think we have any,”

He replied quietly, opening his eyes to glance over at her. She was different, there was something about her that had him all choked up on the inside. It was his job to help kids like her and he had failed to protect her as a child. A child. He slouched over and rubbed his face, stubble rough against his hardened palms. He had his own issues to think of before getting formal with Casey. He dropped his hands to rest them low on his thighs, sighing slightly to glance over at the blonde.

“It’s nice seeing you again?”

He tried, hoping for a casual encounter but he knew the skittish blonde was less than friendly when it came to people like him; men to be accurate.

”you speaking?”

TAGGED ! [/color]casey wilson.
LYRICS ! the shortest line - social code
WORDS ! 287
OUTFIT ! no outfit!
CREDIT ! MEELA! on CAUTION 2.0![/font][/size]

[CASEY AIDEN WILSON]

Her gaze remained fixed on him, noticing that he looked tired and scruffy, like he just didn't care anymore. Part of her felt somewhat responsible for it. He'd been a happy person for the most part until he'd started here, and she was pretty sure he'd only started here because she was here. Had he forgiven her for not telling him what was going on, not letting him help before she ended up in an asylum? She wasn't sure. She knew that reading the file they'd made up for her had probably killed him. He'd had no idea, about any of it, no idea what went on between his best friend and his daughter once the lights went out. The bruises? She was clumsy, or so she'd told him.

Upon hearing that they didn't have Spongebob band aids, she looked far more disappointed than someone her age should look.
"You know, if you doctors had cool band aids, I bet people wouldn't fight as much when you tried to give them some crazy-ass-potion shot," she commented, trying to keep conversation casual. They hadn't really talked about life before the asylum. She still hadn't told him straight out about her father and what she'd been through. But he knew, she knew he knew- that accusing look he gave her every time he saw her said it all.

"I don't know if that could really be phrased as a question. Either it is nice to see me, or it's not nice to see me, you gotta make up your mind. But anyways, it is good to see you again," she said quietly, the little english nazi she was.

[DR. JACOB RYAN COLLINS]

people change and promises are broken
clouds can move and skies will be wide open

[/size][/center][/color][/i]

“Crazy-ass potion shot?”

Collins asked, pretending to feign obliviousness; he knew what went on behind closed doors here at the asylum, but he had never tried to stop it. Collins had a bad mean streak and sometimes he liked to hear them scream in the middle of the night. It made him feel normal. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He sat back and stretched lazily, the white bandana holding his short hair back making him feel less like a therapist and more like a friend; atleast he hoped so. The challenge of feeling like a friend versus feeling like a bad father had always scared him deep down; what if he slipped up? Why didn’t he just tell her? Collins rubbed his cheek slightly in thought, before looking back at the blonde, a slightly small smile coming onto his lips.

“It’s nice to see you too, Casey.”

Jacob made a note to give her free-choice therapy sessions; unlike the usual ones where the paitent sits and talks, he would let Casey choose where she wanted to go (within the asylum of course,) and they could walk and talk; Collins would have a pocket recorder and he could write it all down later. He sat straight and stuffed his hands into his pockets; he didn’t like sitting so formally but he didn’t want to come off as too friendly; he had seen what happened between the adults and teens when they became too friendly with one another.

“You’ve been doing okay, lately?”

Collins asked softly, hoping to keep the conversation going so he had something to jot down later. Honestly as much as he wanted to keep tabs on her he didn’t want to be as protective as he could be. He had yet to tell her about her adoption and he didn’t want her to think that he could protect her all the time. It wouldn’t happen here behind these walls.

”you speaking?”

TAGGED ! [/color]casey wilson.
LYRICS ! the shortest line - social code
WORDS ! 324
OUTFIT ! no outfit!
CREDIT ! MEELA! on CAUTION 2.0![/font][/size]