WARNING: I used Google Translate like the lazy human that I am. If the translations aren't accurate, my bad. It's not the end of the world. You're still breathing. Dorothy made it home from Oz. All is well. Enjoy. (:

"The past is always tense, but the future perfect."

— Zadie Smith

/ / e v e l y n / /

NAME: LOUIS TOMLINSON

AGE: 24

ETHNICITY: CAUCASIAN

HAIR COLOR: BROWN

EYE COLOR: BLUE

PARENTS: TROY AUSTIN, JOHANNAH POULSTON

REASON IN INSTITUTE: SUFFERS FROM HALLUCINATIONS; BRINGS HARM TO SELF AND OTHERS

I drop Louis' file on my desk and cover my face with my hands. None of his paperwork tells me what exact illness he's suffering from. It just tells me what I already know. My hands run down my face and I tilt my head to the side as I continue to flip through his file.

A yawn escapes my lips and I tug at a piece of my hair. After I found Blue last night and took him back to the apartment, I tried calling Joe to let him know. It turned out Joe left his phone in the apartment so I had to go look for him. An hour later, I found him and he was so happy to hear that Blue was back home. I was pissed. Joe should have taken his phone with him.

"Coffee?"

I glance up at the cup and smile, "Thanks, you're a life saver."

My hand reaches out for the cup and that's when I notice it is Niall. I immediately draw my hand back and I continue to flip through Louis' file. Niall sits the cup on my desk and sits down in the chair across from me.

"Aw, come on, Evelyn. You can't still be mad at me," he says, rolling his eyes with annoyance.

I throw him a look, "Get out of my office, Dr. Horan."

"Dr. Horan?"

"That's what I said."

He shakes his head, clearly not satisfied with my answer, "What ever happened to Niall?"

"Is there something you need, Dr. Horan?" I ask, imitating his emphasis.

"Evelyn," he frowns. "What's gotten into you?"

"Dr. Horan, I'm not going to tell you again to get out of my office." I hiss and smile as I tilt my head to the side. "Or do you want me to shock you out of here?"

He sighs, "Oh, you can't be serious! I didn't mean it when I said you should shock the answers out of Louis. I was kidding around with you, Evelyn. It was a joke for crying out loud! We all need a good laugh every now and then!"

I shake my head, "I obviously didn't find your joke very amusing."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" He pushes the coffee closer to me. "I even bought you coffee this morning on my way in to work." I stare at the coffee cup and I am tempted to knock it over. "At least drink it instead of staring at it. I spent nearly five dollars on the damn thing."

I point a finger at him, "I don't care how much money you spent on this coffee. I'm not drinking it because I don't take things from people who are cruel like you." He scratches the top of his head and sighs. I'm relieved when he gets up and walks toward my office door. "You forgot the coffee."

He shakes his head and opens the door, "I know you want it so I'll just leave it."

I open my mouth to argue but he is already gone. I roll my eyes and flip through Louis' file some more. I flip to a page that has a picture of a house on it and my eyes widen.

The house is on fire.

I begin to read the handwriting above the photograph:

Mother left Mr. Tomlinson home for a few hours while she went to the grocery store. When she came home, her house was in flames. The fire had started from inside the house in the patient's bedroom. He claimed he didn't start it but evidence proved otherwise. If he didn't start the fire...who did?

I look at the picture some more and bring a hand to my mouth. How could Louis do this to his own mother's home? I look at the date on the file and this information was filed nine years ago. That was when Louis' mother first brought him to the mental institute. She couldn't have brought him here because of the fire. There has to be more to the story.

Biting my bottom lip, I think of the candy bar in my purse. Maybe I can persuade him to answer me once I give him the chocolate? I shake my head. If he didn't talk yesterday, he most certainly won't talk about the fire. I stare at the coffee cup in front of me and grab it without a second thought. Niall doesn't have to know that I drank it. For all he knows, I probably tossed it after he left. I take a few sips of the coffee and sit the cup back down on the desk.

I flip the page and there's an image of someone's arm with a scratch on it. As I look closer, it looks like the scratch marks that are on Niall and Dr. Sanchez. I read the handwriting below the image:

Dr. Sanchez continued to question Mr. Tomlinson about his scars and he refused to answer her. She threatened to send him to a place far worse than Rosewood. This set him off and he tackled her to the floor. He managed to get his nails into her skin and it took several security guards to get him off. He was determined to harm her at all costs. He yelled at her but no one understood what he was saying. Dr. Sanchez received a gruesome wound on her arm and she was sent to the hospital immediately. The patient was sedated and taken to the top floor. Dr. Sanchez refused to come back for several months.

I close the file and push it away from me. I'm both horrified and disgusted. I want to believe Louis didn't do this but the evidence is right here in front of me. There cannot be another explanation for this. I run a tired hand down my face and slowly shake my head with disbelief. I simply don't understand how someone could do something so awful. The only other person this has happened to is Niall but I don't feel like talking to him at the moment. I exhale slowly and roll my eyes. I need answers and if anyone's going to give them to me, I know Niall will. I stand up from my chair and grab the coffee cup from the desk.

As I walk toward my office door, I begin to wonder where Niall's office is. Would it be on the same hall as mine? I'll find it somehow. Opening the door, I slip out of my office and walk down the hallway. I examine each door and stop at Jeremy's office. He has the best memory here. If he's seen Niall's office, he'll remember where it is. I knock on the door and open it without an answer. Jeremy is, once again, sitting at his computer and he's typing to his heart's content.

"Jeremy?" I clear my throat and enter the office. He doesn't turn to face me and he doesn't stop typing. "Jeremy, can I ask you a quick question?" Still, he doesn't acknowledge my presence. I close the door and walk further into the office. I lean against the wall and clear my throat yet again. "Jeremy, do you know where Niall's office is?"

He stops typing and he turns to look at me, "If I answer your question, will you leave me alone? I have work...to do and I don't have all day to get it done."

I'm surprised he even talked to me. "Um, yes," I nod my head. "I'll leave you to your work once you answer my question."

"Fine," he murmurs and looks me up and down. "You'll find his office on the hall that's across from the cafeteria. His office number is 37B. You can't miss it. It's on the end of the hall. Literally."

I open my mouth to ask him what he meant but he turns around and starts moving his fingers on the keyboard again. I sigh and walk out of his office. I don't need to know what he meant. All I need to look for is an office labeled '37B.'

Louis' file is tucked under my arm tightly. If I walk any faster, I'm afraid the paperwork will fall out of the folder and be out of order. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear as I exit into the hallway. The cafeteria soon comes into view and I see the hallway across from it. I approach the hallway and look down it. My eyebrows rise when I realize what Jeremy meant. There's a door on the other end of the hall and '37B' is in bold on the glass.

"Here goes nothing," I murmur and walk down the hall to his office.

I take a quick sip of the coffee and toss it in the trash can that is by the restroom. The sound of the cup hitting the bottom of the trash can echoes down the hallway and it sends chills down my spine. I approach the door and knock on it before entering. Niall's facing his computer but he doesn't notice me enter. I don't see how he doesn't notice me. He's facing in my direction. I open the folder and flip to the page with Dr. Sanchez's wound.

"Evelyn?"

I slam the folder down on the desk beside him and point to the image, "Explain this."

"Explain...what?" he asks, examining the picture. "That's not my arm, therefore, there isn't anything for me to explain.

"Don't—"

"Hey, I thought you were mad at me."

I ignore him and flip through the pages some more. There's another photo of an arm with a very similar scar on it and I begin to read the handwriting that explains what I'm seeing.

Dr. Horan had worked with Mr. Tomlinson for months without any problems. He was able to get the patient to speak on some days while on other days, he barely uttered a sound. On this day, though, he decided to ask the patient about his past and he was attacked by the third question. Like Dr. Sanchez, he was sent to the hospital and Louis was sent to the top floor. Dr. Horan refused to work with Louis and was given a new patient almost immediately before he sued.

"Well, explain this," I say, pointing to the image of his arm.

"There's nothing for me to explain," he mutters. "The explanation is right there with the image. I don't have to say anything if the paperwork says it all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have emails to send."

I shake my head, "There has to be more to the story. Louis wouldn't just attack someone because of the questions he or she asked. It's madness!"

"Like I had said before, you don't know this guy. You think you can save him but you can't. He's just another mental patient. The only difference is he cannot be cured," he explains and turns back to his computer.

"Niall, I'm asking for your help."

"No more Dr. Horan?"

"Don't get smart with me." I grow even more frustrated. "Are you going to help me or not? I could always go to Dr. Sanchez and ask her about her side of the story."

He sighs and points to the door. I look at it and it's open.

"Close the door and grab a chair," he says and I continue to stare at the door. "Do you want answers, Evelyn? Close the door, grab a chair, and I'll give them to you."

I don't have second thoughts about closing the door. Niall points to the chairs that are against the wall and I grab one, dragging it toward his desk.

I sit down and cross one leg over the other, "I want answers."

"Good," he says. "Because I have them."

"Are you going to tell them to me?"

"Do you see this?" Niall asks, pointing to the scratch mark in the photo. I nod. "This wasn't caused by Louis' nail." My eyebrows rise. "I don't know how, but he had gotten a hold of one of my pens that I usually keep in my office." He picks up a black pen that has a sharp point. "When he attacked me, he dug the pen into my skin and dragged it down, cutting my skin as he did so. He was yelling at me in another language and it was...haunting."

"Do you know what he was saying?"

"He was speaking in Latin," Niall sighs. "I'm not fluent in the language but I knew enough to figure out what he was telling me."

"What did he say?"

"Tibi anima mea, pueri. Tu pugnare potes retrorsum omnes autem vos volo me habere timorem suis epulandos apponere."

"I...don't understand," I shake my head.

"Your soul is mine, boy. You can fight back all you want but I will have your fear to feast upon. That's what he told me." Niall looks to his side at the wall. "I thought the man was insane. I had heard some pretty harsh things from my previous patients but none of them ever threatened to feast on my fear. It was barbarous!"

I swallow hard, hiding my fear, "What happened after he attacked you?"

His blue eyes meet mine, "What do you think I did? I continued to fight back until I was able to get to the panic button. Security guards filled the room in minutes and they strapped him down to his bed. Moments later, he was yelling to me that it wasn't him. He apologized."

"Who else could it have been, then, if it wasn't him?"

He shrugs, "He blamed it on Harry." I cover my face with my hands. "You don't seem surprised." I shake my head and grab the file from the desk. I flip back to the page about the fire and show it to Niall. He reads the paragraph silently to himself and looks up at me. "So?"

"Louis claimed he didn't set the fire." I explain. "Who else could have started it?"

"He could have lied, you know."

I throw him a look, "You don't think I know that? But if he lied, I'm sure he said someone else did it. And that someone could have been Harry." Niall nods and I close the file. "I brought him a candy bar. Do you think he'll talk once I show it to him?"

"I don't know," he murmurs. "Do you really want to go back there after what I just told you?"

"It's worth a shot, right?" I ask. "After today, I have five days left to prove to Dr. Sanchez that I have Louis' trust. I need to prove to her that I can have Louis under control."

"Good luck with that."

I stand up, "Are you going to come with me to Louis' room? I think I'm going to head up there now and start asking my daily questions."

He shakes his head, "Hell no. I felt uncomfortable last time I was in there. I felt like he was watching me the entire time. You got this, Evelyn. Just stay by the panic button and you should be fine."

I don't feel any better. I smile and Niall goes back to checking his emails. I don't put the chair back where I got it from. I simply leave the office and head toward the elevator.

I press the button for me to go up and wait for the elevator doors to open. My grip tightens on my purse when the doors open and I hurry inside. I press the button to go to the top floor and the doors close as soon as I press the button. I wish Niall would come with me to Louis' room. What if I go through what he went through? I'm not as fast as people think I am. Louis can tackle me to the floor before I even get the chance to press the panic button.

The thought of this happening forces a lump to form in my throat. I highly doubt he'll attack me. I'm new here and he didn't attack Niall or Dr. Sanchez until a few months after they started counseling him. It's only been a day.

A very long day.

When the elevator doors open, I hurry to get off and I stop moving as soon as I'm off. The security guard stands at the beginning of the hallway and I think of the candy bar in my purse. Will he make me take it out and leave it behind? Last time, I wasn't allowed to take my purse because Marcel didn't want Louis to think I was going to harm him.

Swallowing hard, I walk toward the hall and the security guard looks me up and down, "I'm going to have to see what's in your bag."

"Come on, Marcel," I sigh. "I carry the same thing in my purse every day and I'm in a hurry to get to my patient."

He smiles and holds out his hand, "If you carry the same thing in your purse, you wouldn't mind letting me look in it. Now, would you?"

I let my purse slip off of my shoulder and hand it to the guard. I bite my bottom lip as he digs through it. He shakes my purse around a little as if he's scared to put his hand in there. It's been a minute since I've cleaned that thing out. When he pulls out the candy bar, my heart stops.

"What's this?"

"A candy bar," I smile.

"You know you're not allowed to take food back there."

"I'm not going to give it to my patient," I murmur. "What if I get hungry back there? A woman has to eat, you know."

"That's tempting the patient."

"Well...I...if you'd just—"

"It can stay out here until you're finished."

"Marcel," I say. "What if I forget about it? You'll eat it and I'll be crushed."

"You can always buy another one."

"You're a hard man to please, aren't you?" I exhale.

He sighs, "You won't take it out while you're with your patient?"

"I won't take it out," I lie.

"Fine," he tosses it back into my purse. "If you take it out, it's my job on the line. Not yours. Now get out of here."

I smile, "Thanks, Marcel."

He rolls his eyes and I put my purse back over my shoulder. Louis' file is tucked tightly under my arm and I'm determined to get answers out of him today. I won't shock him like Niall had suggested. I'll just ask him in a stern tone. I assume all of his other counselors asked him questions like they were talking to a baby. I won't baby him. I refuse. Babying him won't get me anywhere.

When I approach his door, I slide my card to unlock the door. The light on the card reader turns green and I open the door. I let it shut behind me before I actually enter the room fully. I sit my purse on the floor by the door but grab the candy bar. My eyes wander around the room as I walk in some more. So far, I don't see Louis.

I clear my throat and call his name, "Louis?"

I enter the room fully and look to my left.

There—on the bed—is Louis.

He's strapped to it and he's looking at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. I hold his file out in front of me and the candy bar sits on top of it. Scratching the top of my head, I look around for the panic button. It's on the other side of the room and it stands out on the white wall. There isn't a point in me using the button. Louis' strapped down to his bed and he looks like he's thinking hard on something. He can't get to me even if he tried.

I begin to walk around the room, "I brought the candy bar." When I look at him, I notice he's looking back at me. His eyes are full of sadness and I have to look away to keep myself from babying him. "But in order for you to get it, you have to cooperate with me. I want answers, Louis, and I know you have them. So why not give them to me?" He looks away and I sigh. "I know you want to go home but you won't be able to unless you cooperate." Nothing. "Do you want to stay here? Is that what you want?" His hands ball up into fists.

I walk over to Louis' bed and sit the candy bar above his pillow so he can't see it. Flipping to the file page about the fire, I notice Louis' looking at me again. He's probably wondering what I'm even doing. I pull the page out of the folder and show it to him, "Remember this?" He begins to shake his head. He attempts to bring his hands up to his ears but his arms are strapped down. "Remember the day you set your mother's house on fire?" His head shakes faster.

I continue on, "I wonder how hurt your mother was...learning her only son set her house on fire. Her heart must have been broken."

He cranes his neck in an attempt to sit up, "I didn't do it!"

I'm shocked by his response but I quickly get myself back together, "Then who did it?"

"No...no...no...no...no!"

"Who did it, Louis?" I ask him and he looks at me, his eyes glossy and full of fear.

"Harry!"

He throws his head back and screams.