Author's Note: That's the sequel of the 3-parter one-shot with Oliver, Timothy and the female OC Nancy! Furthermore, if you enjoyed and liked the previous part of the trilogy, subsequently I hope you like and enjoy the current sequel. Furthermore, pardon me if I don't portray realistically Oliver's house, howsoever, my bland excuse is I haven't watched Asylum for months, in fact, I don't want to struggle with a depression after watching the last episodes of the season, itself!

It's a special dedication to my marvelous buddies like sociopathsis, stallonesgirl, southernauthor, Celeste-Moore, Trash_Bag_123, JunykoWalker, Yararebird and barnesthor-, regardless if you are Timothy or Oliver enthusiasts! I hope you like and enjoy this one-shot! :))

--- *** ---

As the psychiatrist confronted the security guard and granted him the rationally logical explanation to articulate his temporal position in the dilapidating, monumental mental hospital, consequently the atheist manifested to recline her back cozily comfy, recklessly against the leather seat and casting her amber brown depths glassily blank, mindlessly imbibing the clean rear window of the lily-white vehicle, whilst suckling unnerving, demure her lower cherub lip between her front pearly-white teeth and delicately dumping a small rivulet of spongy rivulet to trickle its translucent juicy liquid to tickle the delicate skin.

"I took care of the business." Once the very presence of the older gentleman kindheartedly accompanying the atheist, the friendly reminder of his honey-mouthed, eloquent coo soothingly conveyed its message that they were no longer inside the old asylum and eavesdropping the humdrum, recurring ballad of inmates' despondent babbles and dowdy bewails, escorting conveniently the orderlies' austere yells distressing their preys of their grip and biding their wrists and body muscles, in order to restrict their hysterically devilish motions indicating their non-verbal protests. A candidly beaming, gullible smirk tugged perkily, deftly at the corner of Nancy's chapped mouth and shifting her utter attention to the older man that could be labeled as her knight in the shining armor.

"Thank you for your help, Dr. Thredson!" In the meanwhile, the sheer, childlikely gracious politeness of the former patient swathed her in the holy light of her gullible coyness, swaddling warmly her petite-frame when Oliver's dexterously meaty, appealingly long fingers ushered to work on buckling his belt that braced her larger frame.

"Don't call me that, Nancy!" At the moment, the psychiatrist manipulated his mammoth, consolingly ghostly pale hand to claw gingerly, graciously her dainty shoulder on reflex as his touch conveyed vehemently warmness spiking electrifying goosebumps to pebble beneath her rigidly bland, shapeless stone blue patient gown armoring her flesh and obscuring her swan curves to be mantled in thick veil of fiendish mysticism. Mild ferocious shiver paradoxally ticklish, mischievously twitched her exposed bare flesh of her forearms, swan calves and delicate expanse whilst folding her leanly alabaster, silken arms across her chest to provide her the unconditionally covet warmness to fiery absorb her muscles, chattering clumsily, impulsively begrudging her dainty jaw line. "It's just Oliver! You are really trembling. I won't leave you trembling and being on the verge of catching cold." The suddenness of Oliver removing his charcoal gray blazer to peel off his mystically muscly, strong arms and torso and subsequently maneuvering its attire to drape clumsily ruthless the younger lady's shoulders and back. "Here! That's much better." A docile, solemn nod approved her façade's position and her fingertips managing to grapple tightly, stubbornly the blazer's lapels dedicatedly to surround herself with the weight's vast warmness the fabric bestowed.

In a long minute of comfy, sinisterly blood-curdling doldrum frigidly blasted the car's interior as the pairing adjusted conveniently their postures and the doctor inserted the key to start the lowly, tiresomely humming car engine to ignite the immobile vehicle's adrenaline, throughout he shot a fleetly studious glance at the satanist, dawdling his eerily beaming, dim smirk apt to ornate to flourish upon his naturally glossily nude pink, deliciously plump lips.

The satanist didn't even have any idea of what to elaborate as impending utterance just to molt relentlessly sweltering the rigidly bulky, invincible iceberg of the awkward silence, filtering with its frostness to contagiously wedge their lips in a pensive, speechless paralysis.

She had a few of interactions with Oliver that bounded them as a patient and doctor solely unlike his divinely benevolent intention of unlocking her from the lethally lifeless, dull cage that every lunatic committee in Briarcliff with being amidst the celestially authentic keys to the freedom and throughout joining the general population through the monstrously invisible gates of the hugest yearn of each wretched soul. The pungent fragrance of the deligtfully divine, exquisite freedom teasingly tickling the tiny, flexible nostrils. The luxuriously pleasant illustration of the multi-coloured, majestic sites that haven't any associations with the lifeless, infernally dully four-wall rooms of the demise, the venomous agony and apocalyptic affliction.

In spite of their meager encounters they traded with one another, what it candidly enchanted the juvenile satanist about the psychiatrist was not only his incredibly impressive pools of abysmally poetic, cryptic cocoa brown along with his neatly trimmed dark hair capping his scalp, but also his gentlemanly graciousness and kindness extraordinarily emphasizing his true nature leaking through his verbal and non-verbal anatomy. Notwithstanding the circumstances, Oliver was also rabidly enamoured with the young woman that accompanied him on his car journey to his home, factly, he deemed her as much different. Or rather the epitome of the one of a kind. Her halo ringlet of fiendishly greasy lilac tresses curtaining exquisitely her profile. Her amber minerals drinking every discrete detail that taunted her indiscernible jet-black pupil. Her indisputable politeness didn't cease to astound him.

Solely the lowly arduous droning car engine and the eloquently slating nocturnal songs of the crickets pitched the background.

--- *** ---
--- An Hour Later ---

When the car journey passed sluggishly at summer breeze's pace as Oliver was utterly focused on maneuvering his head strongly potent, marbled fingers working on the steering wheel restlessly, Nancy catnapped humbly as her eyelids encumbered vast of exuberant weight hypodermically crawling to enforce their eventual brief beauty coma after having enough of beholding the repetitive vistas regularly. The vista of despondence painted gracefully with refined brushes to spotlight the somber, bleak nuances and the true emotions the details emulated to hint the viewers numbering the juvenile atheist.

It was high time for Nancy to behold with her own eyes and to inhale inwardly, presentably pleased the fragrance of the carte blanch.

As soon as the pairing's arrival in the psychiatrist's home when the monotonous, unceasing car engine no longer subtly droned, thereafter the older gentleman registered gently, kindly to nudge the satanist's shoulder paired with a cautious, featherly-soft squeeze of her shoulder to keep her wits about their recent arrival.

"Nancy, we're home!" The suddenness of his appallingly calm, honey-mouthed voice remarkably emphasizing his caution as his pristine digits and fingertips massaged considerately her shoulder, admiring her stark femininity.

"Oh!" Muffling graciously a yawn with one of her elvish, weathered hands and pinching broadly opened her citrine cabochons, thus flicking her gaze at the older gentleman and boring into his profoundly promising, inviting chocolate brown gemstones. "I just took a short nap! I am genuinely sorry if I am quite distracted."

"Don't apologize!" In the interval, the both adults unbuckled their belts and managed to hop out of the vehicle as they ambled up to the front door shortly after the doctor locked up his car at last. "Come on! Don't be shy! I won't hurt you, I promise." When the duo perched before the front door after their imminent destination on foot, consequently a coyly girlish, dim smile incised authentically across her naturally roseate, scrumptiously plumpish lips as her meek escort of the psychiatrist didn't conveyed its celestially unsacred broad waves of unconditional discomfort and bone-chilling pyrexia to infectiously bloody-minded befoul her muscles and cells with myriad of unthinkable paralysis of mortification. The purely welcoming, presentably solemn promise of the doctor to not harm or impact even modicum of physical or mental damage on her brewed ferociously refreshing its cauldron of compound.

Even though Nancy could hardly trust any stranger and she has almost never bestowed even modicum of uniquely precious credence to perform the sacrifice for tweaking off sharply a segment of her flimsy heart, anyway she didn't have other choice than keeping in touch with Oliver and gladly enrolling his offer to not be housed inside the ill-famed, gigantic madhouse. After acknowledging the crudeness the majority of the nobodies could impale her heart with even a tiny, nevertheless, bare, sinister scar that fetches explicitly vivid, scintillating flashbacks of the perpetrator that tracked her fleshy heart and very soul with his or her own touch carding the guiltless purity and the opportunity they were offered with.

"I'm candidly grateful for your hospitability and the rescue from that snakepit once again, Oliver! It means the world to me," Once the maintainence of Oliver and Nancy's proximity that was a meager inch dividing their muscles to graze faintly, meanwhile, the psychiatrist inserted the key in the rusty keyhole to twist it twice until the door clicked twice, articulating its progress of unlockement at last. In a quarter a minute the door swung widely opened and notoriously echoing its wail, whereas the older man gentlemanly, decorously held the door aside for the young lady, docilely choiring bob of his head.

"You don't need to thank me! Ladies first!" Demurely childlike, hoarse snigger sailed out of her dry, berry-coloured tongue, craving to hydrate and nurture the soft fat with rivulet of healthily liquid to linger inside her oral caverns, furrowing her pristinely thin, dark eyebrows to cusp the bridge of her button, dainty nose while stepping inside the corridor and the series of wearisome, pliant footsteps surrutated against the floor and registering a solemn, modest nod.

"I would appear quite ungrateful as if I'm using your kindness just to be snuck out of the snakepit where I was committed against my will."

"I know, Nancy! I don't think it was fair how you were committed just because of your insomnia and depression which was a bit too much." Suddenly, the older gentleman slammed shut the door, whereas the young lady ushered her leanly satin, unhealthily pallid arms to peel off the conveniently cotton blazer of her shoulders and humbly hanging it on the lacquered coat hanger. "That's such a pity for your former friend could abandon such a kindhearted and amazing friend like you!"

"I have to second it though they will realize what they're truly missing after the mess they mudded the wrong person." Bountiful layer of bittersweetness glossily highlighted the purple-haired satanist's facial attributes while diligently escorting the doctor to the living room as his colossal, delightfully potent hand ushered her to take a seat on the cosy couch against him and maintaining an adequate distance, inching their figures with a couple of inches as they instantly adapted to the thin, stealthy elasticity. The fiercely howling autumn breeze echoed through the isolative, secure walls of the property."However, I'm glad they showed their true colours so that to get rid off them sooner than later. You don't know what they might leak in a New York minute after dedicating your trust and friendship to somebody that hasn't even genuinely valued. Today friends but tomorrow they're rivals."

"You know what they're saying about the friends and enemies!" At the moment, the atheist manipulated her petite, feebly weathered hands to fidget and grasp the rigidly shapeless hem of her patient gown at the very thought of the former friendships she has experienced and contemplating through the translucently achromatic, preposterous veils fanning lightly past her fogged vision, whilst her brittle lungs elaborated a heavy, exhausted sigh to course through her tiny, vulnerable nostrils. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!" Another muffled yawn bubbled up from the young woman's feminine Adam's apple and sensing the true nature of exuberant fatigue chivying and contracting her cells and muscles with sore pain which wasn't left unseen by the older gentleman, in spite of Nancy's attempts to not drift off asleep anywhere in the property whenever she covet the least. She would abysmally regret if she has fallen asleep somewhere else rather than reclining on a cozy bed. It made her feeling incredulously stupid. "You seem pretty exhausted and sleepy, Nancy!"

The salty flavor of the sleep and unnatural fatigue swiftly inundated the Satanist's dry fatness of her tongue and pinching widened her jewels, formulating the caught-off-guard stance when the older man exposed her sloppy exposure of weariness staining her irises and epidermis.

After being committed against her will in the small city of Massachusetts' ominously nefarious, dilapidating facility, on one hand, she was immensely grateful for gaining her ability to collect sufficient rest and nutrients throughout the evening hours though on other hand it profoundly, unnaturally inescapable deteriorated her very tissues and petering out the insomnia that spiritually and fleshly possessed her character. The second nature of tiredness finally confronted the purple-haired lady and swathed her icily in its groggy sanctum.

"I will be alright, Oliver! I need to take a shower before everything, first and foremost!" At the moment, she lifted up her rear from the comfy furniture and clawed viciously the armrest, darting her cinnamon brown depths to the twain of coffee brown. "I smell like a wet dog and heavy medicaments. It's just disgusting the reek I ooze of."

"It's alright! I will make something for dinner! And the bathroom is in the other part of the corridor." Motioning his middle from the couch and rolling his cotton oyster-white plain pair of shirt's long sleeves up to his elbows as his leaked muscular, thickly hairy forearms breathed freshly, whereas the Satanist manipulated her imminent destination up to the bathroom, following her savior's instructions. The ferociously antagonistic growl of the younger adult's stomach tingled alarming tones out loud, indicating her raw hunger she hasn't sated fully yet. "I'll make sure by the time you take a shower to eat something to fill your stomach and feel much better even if it takes a New York minute to be done."

Without a second thought, Nancy dashed out of the living room and diligently marching towards the bathroom that was in the end of the long, dim light hallway.

Once the young lady manifested her elvish, feebly blanched hand to clumsily paw the door handle, thus the door swung featherly-soft, timidly opened at the thick mantle of pitch-black, ethereally timeless darkness dolling up the site and clumsily researching with her fingers for the light switcher and seeting foot as her threadbare, filthy white slippers gingerly drummed against the neatly clean tiled floor.

A smartly clean, untouched pair of baby blue bathrobe was hooked on the door bounded individually with the bath towel. Uncertainty what might be the upcoming outfit of the young lady, consequently she thoughtlessly pelt off ruthlessly each piece of attire that was part of her patient daily, ordinary uniform and hooking them carelessly past the bathrobe until her bare, petite frame was beautifully enveloped in its dim artificial saturation of the lamp that filtered independently, brightly the bathroom. Moreover, the wonderfully devilish mantle of profuse filth and scum embellished Nancy's naked petite-frame and the frigid climate pebbling passionately unholy her small, fragily mauve nipples.

Aftee retiring under the shower and adjusting the faucets for the water's temperature in general. Stream of wee rivulets impaling the patchy holes pelted generously its sufficiently hot liquid pouring down to wash off the thick layers of unimaginable filth and scum along with her long mop of drenched, lukewarmly unruly locks losing their naturally disheveled forms strengthening their anatomy. A lowly mellifluous hum escaped her rosy-coloured cracked lips and pinching shut her eyelids to melt into the indulgently delightful, sacredly celestial heavy rain of raindrops beading profusely her scalp down to her charcoal gray manicured toes.

--- *** ---

During his love interest's absence in the bathroom, consequently the doctor retired in the kitchen and rummaging warily his refrigerator for any food products to fix a quick dinner meal for his recent visitor sooner than later before she left eventually the shower.

How the love destined to chase down eagerly, savagely his own prey of the phenomenally ambiguous process? It has been a long time when Oliver had looked at Nancy not just as an object of his own hedonistic, vain desires to fulfill his primary needs as a human being. The phenomenally assertive, inevitable process of falling in love with an individual that not only possessed ethereally timeless grace building her anatomy, but also her bewitching and arcanely mousy character emulated to his preference as well. Unlike his former victims of his secretive, darker side of skinning corpses and carving with feminine soft flesh lamps and furniture and violating their motionless pink nether areas, something urged to intrigue the mysterious serial killer that hasn't been exposed as Bloody face yet even after Wendy Peyser's barbaric, unthinkable demise.

His masculinely strong, dexterous fingers fidgeted to retrieve a handful of tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, a tad of fresh cheese and oil by slamming shut the refrigerator's door. The nocturnally tranquil hush comfortably strangled the walls of the four-wall site. Even though Oliver wasn't excellently skilled in the culinary, anyway he relished to fix his own meals within a quarter an hour mostly.

The medley of howling autumn breeze's dance and the crickets' peacefully silver-tongued, beatific songs chirping the background rebelliously tingled angelic anthems into the psychiatrist's vulnerable ears. He wasn't a keen enthusiast of the rowdy atmosphere and the huge masses of people. He would rather prefer staying at home with a book and a mug of coffee instead of joining the huge mass of general population where Oliver would earn ocean of skeptically piercing gapes, spearing his physique from head to toes.

In a long moment of washing the tomatoes and carrots by slicing them warily, besides peeling off the potatoes and boiling them and chopping them, throughout he besprinkled tad of cheese drizzling with its alabaster chunks to permeate the dish and then oiling each prominent segment.

The haphazardness of the series of humdrum, graciously familiar footsteps pitched behind the psychiatrist and teasingly tickling invincibly his epidermis when the very presence of the young woman whose petite-frame was donned up in nothing else than one of his old, large-sized fern green shirts guarding her curves and flesh as its hem fiercely cheerful flaring across her bare, nubile mid-thighs leaking freely to shimmer beneath the artifial saturation, painting the actual skin tone with brighter sunny shades. Her waterfall of soaked iris tresses framed her round, full profile and the old, threadbare patient slippers were replaced with convenient, suitable slippers slipping into her petite feet. She looked stunning.

His smoky quartz gemstones speared the atheist's physique though Oliver attempted to not gullibly be succumbed by her physique. Nancy Lavender genuinely resembled an angel, propping on the lackered doorframe and registering to offer a sympathetically angelic, succumbing smile permeating across her glossy nude pink, plumpish lips.

"Fortunately, I was aware of your presence, Nancy! The dinner is done." At the moment, another ferociously antagonistic stomach growl jingled alarming tones into the atheist's dainty ears whilst obediently, presentably tucking a fistful of stray, drenched locks behind her ear. "You don't have to help me with anything for now. First and foremost, you deserve to rest fully!" When Oliver crooked his pristinely strong, meaty fingers around the dish with the fork and headed to the living room, consequently the Satanist didn't move a single muscle and her gaze eagerly, inquisitively followed in the corner of her eye each motion the psychiatrist's anatomy flickered recklessly. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Just a glass of white wine, please!"

"For sure, dear!" As soon as the doctor managed to serve gracefully the plate of Nancy's dinner meal on the coffee table, consequently he dashed back to the en-suite kitchen to retrieve an empty, unused yet glass of wine and removing the tap of a bottle of mouth-wateringly exquisite caramel liquor to pool partly her glass lastly. The friendly, amorous nickname the older gentleman platonically addressed the former inmate conveyed its greatly contagious waves of meltness, relentlessly sheathed her brittle heart as its heart pulsations vehemently accelerated and hammered into her ribcage. Almost no other representative of the opposite sex has addressed her as kindheartedly as the doctor does.

Within a handful of moments, subsequently the pairing seated against each other on the cozy sofas and the young woman dangled her virginally delicate, luster fingers around her silver fork and pronging a mouthful of her initial bite to savor its healthily scrumptious flavor lacing her tongue and oral caverns until it didn't perch on her tongue tip and subsequently commencing munching and grinding her pearly-white teeth on the bite as it perpetually splattered on beehive of wee chunks and swigging them after being eventually munched entirely.

"This is really good." The frank confession of the young lady dripped from her wine-stained, cherub lips shortly after gulping a couple of meek, tiny sips of the light liquor, squinting up her smoky quartz gemstones at the older man's kind, mystically light-hearted smile bloomed upon his oral slit. The richly delightful fragrance of the amazing alcoholic beverage, the mouth-watering flavor of the dinner dish and honey inescapably versatile suffused the site.

"I'm truly happy that you enjoy and like what I've prepared for you as a fleet dinner meal, Nancy!"

"I have to admit you're a wonderful when it comes up to the culinary skills, Oliver!" Shortly after a second bite wolfily greed, gamely choired the process of restlessly frequent munch, in fact, it's been awhile since the Satanist has masticated something really healthy and most of all, worth its time to be swigged and savored. Moreover, her hunger genuinely bears a semblance of a frantically peckish wild, untamed animal that has searched its own local site for his own food to strive to survive for longer.

"Oh really?" Inclining a thick, masculinely dark eyebrow quizzically, playfully to highlight his actual heartwarmness he dipped in his love interest's rich cataract of altruistic gratitude and cordial kindliness.

"Mhm!"

"I'm not that wonderful cook I've to admit even if I can't cook everything in the world, Nancy! But that's quite heartwarming of your side."