Page 124 of Dark Haven Omegaverse

Not only were we bonded, but somehow I’d grown as dependent on him as he was me, feeding off of his energy much the way Drake fed from mine.

Maybe it was in my head, but the thought was oddly reassuring.

Like it was with Kol, the connection to Monty was strong and strange. They consumed me, owned me, and I longed for every fucking second of it.

Harlow

Friday Morning

First Floor Group Therapy

“Our inner demons are something we are forced to face,” Dr. Bradley said to the group in a solemn voice, but we all burst into laughter at the mention of demons.

He stuttered over whatever he was saying next before stopping completely.

“Why fight inner ones when we can fight the demons in these halls,” Layne deadpanned. “It’s more satisfying.”

“The smell is awful, though,” Hiro countered with a playful shudder. He was truly coming out of his shell now.

“This is not funny, kids,” Dr. Bradley blustered. “You should respect the help you receive here at Dark Haven.”

“Help? People are literally being killed in the halls,” Drake said in a calm tone that had Bradley glaring.

All thoughts of Mr. Rogers were gone now, he was livid.

“Was this really necessary? Pretending is just weird now,” I asked Drake who looked like he was having far too much fun. He’d been true to his word and was showing up more over the last week.

That and he got us our meds steadily, thanks to getting Nurse Drew being put back in place. It was nice to not see shadows and random hallucinations constantly.

It was nice to have a sense of normalcy again, even if it was fleeting.

“Did you know Dr. Bradley is not actually a doctor?” Drake revealed as he quirked an eyebrow at the man in question. Bradley turned white at Drake’s words, mouth gaping as he stared at Drake, stunned.

“What?” Layne and Crew asked simultaneously.

“What is he, then?” Hiro asked, sounding as confused as I was.

Drake waited, watching Bradley stand and clench his fists. His face went from stark white to vivid red as whatever charade this was fell apart.

“He’s just like us. Had so much therapy that he started to pretend to make himself feel better. Vane found out and kept him,” he taunted. “It’s interesting the things I can find hidden away in Vane’s office since he abandoned it. I guess Vane thought it would be easier to manipulate and mold him into what he needed this way.”

“That is alie,” Bradley spit out, stalking toward Drake who stood to confront him. Drake had a good two feet on the man but apparently he was full of audacity today. “You have no evidence of your accusations. I am a trained professional.”

“What college did you go to?” Hiro asked. He made it seem innocent but the smirk was unmistakable.

“I... uh, went to Harvard,” he blurted, fumbling over the words.

“No you didn’t,” Drake said. “You didn’t even get a high school diploma. Your name isn’t even Bradley, it’s Charles Dunn. You were admitted for psychosis originally and then were diagnosed here by?—”

“Stop!” Bradley lunged then, but Drake easily sidestepped so he ended up sprawled on the floor with the breath knocked out of him. “Vane will hear of this!”

Drake walked over and crouched down so he was more on his level. “Good. Tell him Drake says hi and that I’m looking for him.”

“You’ll never find him!” he yelled, scurrying to his feet and out of the room, leaving all of his notes behind.

Which Layne promptly snatched up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Layne said before barking out a laugh that turned hysterical. She was doubled over crying by the time I stood and went over to her, taking away the notebook and looking at it.

---