"Here," the chef sighs, pushing a long cart towards you. The cart had two levels, with 4 trays balanced precariously on the top and bottom. With 11 patients, the food was packed on tightly, making you anxious just looking at it. One bump and you could tip everything over. You smile bright, and take the tray despite your nerves, not bothering to thank the chef. They were the one who had insulted Brahms. Turning back toward the cafeteria exit, you head out to start dishing up the food. Your footsteps echo through the halls, and you move closer to the wall as a guard detail comes huffing past you with annoyed expressions plastered on their faces. You can't help but chuckle quietly to yourself, rolling your eyes. This lockdown wasn't that big a deal- speaking of lockdown, what would you tell Danny? He was still endlessly curious about the cause of all these drastic measures, and you weren't about to tell him the truth, not when the problem was already over. Maybe the easy thing to do would be to say you haven't heard anything yet. You could delay the question to when you weren't busy. You take a left into the halls with the cells, smiling at Amanda as she passes by. Her eyes go sympathetic, and you inwardly groan. Here comes the comfort.
"Oh, (Y/N)!" Amanda clicks her tongue, placing a hand on you shoulder, "I heard what happened... that must have been scary. Jason and Michael aren't usually so... forwards with their rage." you furrow your brows, and realize what Amanda must think. You had a job to do.
"Uh," you begin, "Thanks, I guess. I'm alright now, though." you give your cart a little push to draw her attention towards it. Her eyes light up with understanding and she smiles tightly.
"Right, sorry to hold you up."
You speed away faster than she does, continuing down the hall until you stop at the first cell. This is actually the cell of the patient you probably know the very least; this is the newest patient, Leslie Vernon, and he's at the window before you can even step in front of it.
"Nurse lady!" he smiles, and steps a few feet away from the door. Hesitating for only a moment, you scan your keycard and the door pops open.
"Good morning, Leslie," you say, "Would you mind stepping a little further from the door?"
"Not at all," Leslie takes a seat at his desk, staring at you intently. "Your name is (Y/N), if I remember correctly." You nod your head, confirming his fact. "Well, I don't think I've formally introduced myself." he stands from his seat, holding out a hand. You step away from your cart, reaching out to take it. He seems friendly enough. As your hands connect, you half expect him to twist you around, snapping your arm or pressing some hidden sharp object to your throat, but he does neither. He simply gives it a gentle shake. "The name's Leslie Vernon, but some stupid doctors are gonna call me Leslie Mancuso. Ignore them."
"Well," your hands separate, "It's quite nice to meet you, Leslie." you pluck a tray from its place on your cart, holding it out to him, "This is yours, hand delivered thanks to this lockdown." Leslie takes his tray and sets it gently on his desk, turning back to you with a curious expression.
"I'm going to guess you don't know anymore about this thing than I do, since you're a newbie and all." he crosses his arms, glancing around the cell he'd been assigned to, "This whole facility isn't as bad as I was afraid it was." Suddenly, Leslie's eyes widen and he takes a few excited steps towards you, grabbing your upper arms and smiling widely, "and did you know that the Norman Bates is right next door? Wow!" with a chuckle, you smile and nod.
"He's a nice guy, from what I've seen so far." Leslie nods his agreement. Releasing your arms and taking a step back, Leslie peers around you to stare out into the hallway.
"You have work to do," he says after a moment, "I'll let you get back to it. Tell the others I say hi, and tell them that I'm their biggest fan!" Leslie grins too wide for you to even consider declining, so with a nod and a smile half as wild as his, you drag your cart from the room and lock the door tightly once more.
Next up, Norman Bates. A quick scan and a pop of a lock, and then you're pushing the door open and Norman is looking up from his place at his desk.
"O-Oh, (Y/N), h-h-hi." he says, jumping from his seat and standing stiff as a tree. When he realizes how awkward he's being, he chuckles, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants before waving. "W-What can I do f-for you?"
"Just stopping by with your breakfast." you say, lifting a tray from the cart and balancing the contents carefully. "This lockdown is pretty crazy, huh?" you watch Norman hurry to take his food with trembling hands, a laugh just as nervous as before escaping him as he set it down on his perfectly made bed.
"I-I haven't been i-in a l-lockdown for... a long time." he said with a nod, "I'm n-not very s-sure of what h-h-happened." the look in his eye asks you a question, 'do you know anything?' but he was clearly too jittery to ask you outright.
"I'm pretty in the dark, too." a lie, but a necessary one, "I've promised to keep everyone posted though, so I'll come back with any news I might have." you grip the handles to the cart once more.
"I h-hope it isn't a-anything t-too b-bad," Norman wrings his hands in front of him. He stares down at the floor, thoughtful for a moment, before his gaze returns to you. Something within it seems to have changed- his gaze seems more... there than usual. "I hope you trust me enough to know you can tell me if it's something involving you." not a single stutter. His voice was perfectly smooth, and his shaking stopped completely, hands clasped in front of him without a tremble or twitch.
A moment of silence passes between you, and then Norman's normal self floods back, and he starts to wring his hands again. "S-Sorry... That w-was my-" he cuts himself off, shaking his head. "S-Sorry. You c-can l-leave now." his words sounded more commanding than anything else, as if he were making a demand. You smile at him, soft and caring, and wish you could say the truth. He deserved it, but you wanted Cole and everything to do with him done and out of the way.
"I'll see you for lunch, Norman." your words are simple, but prompt Norman to lower his head, nodding it and gulping the lump in his throat. You swear you saw a flash of fear in his gaze, but he turned his back to you and sat down on his desk chair before you could confirm your suspicions. You exit the cell, locking the door behind you, and letting your back press against it for a moment as you gather your thoughts. Norman knew something was up, that much was obvious. What had happened to him? He seemed like a whole new person, and the look on his face reminded you of a mother trying to get a child to trust them. It was not necessarily scary- more just unsettling. You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment before letting them flutter open once more. Straight across form Norman's cell was the one belonging to Brahms, and then Danny's and then Dr. Lecter's. The idea of work suddenly seemed bitter, and you wanted to sleep, but you had dug yourself into this work pit and now you had to get yourself through it. It wouldn't be too tough, and maybe Brahms would lift your spirits. Then, you remembered your encounter with him from before. You lie, he had said, and you'd seend betrayal in those emerald eyes. A fear took over your body. You knew he was dangerous, everyone was. You were hesitant to approach his door, let alone open it.
You steel yourself with a deep breath and push the cart towards the door. A swipe, a click, a gulp- and Brahms is waiting for you on the other side with his head cocked to the side and a ball of yarn in his hands, the fluffy strings dangling loosely and brushing the floor. You smile tightly.
"Good morning, Brahms." your voice is weak, and cracks in the middle, making you wince. It was just Brahms for christ sake! But that look in his eyes had been so intense...
"Good day, Ms. (Y/N)!" he says in his usual childish voice, taking a seat on his bed. "How are you today?" He plucks the knitting needles from his ball of yarn, tapping the sharp tip with his finger before looping the yarn around it and starting a row of whatever project he wanted.