IAN
I sat on my sad excuse of a bed, staring at the empty one next to mine. After whatever the fuck happened a week ago, the staff dragged Draven's unconscious form out of the room to god knows where. Brandon was rushed to the hospital soon after— but if he wasn't already dead, he'd probably be in a coma or permanently disabled for the rest of his life.

There was still an outline of Brandon's body carved into the wall and floor from how hard Draven had punched him. I wouldn't even classify it as punching. Brandon looked like he got mauled by a bear. He didn't even look like a person anymore after Draven was done with him.

Other than being mortified, I was even more confused. What did Brandon do to him? Why would he be so angry just because he was laughing? I wasn't angry, well, I was mostly embarrassed and before I could be mad all of that happened so I just felt bad for him at this point. I never had the opportunity to be angry. So why was Draven?

"You think this is funny? You think it's funny when people suffer?"

"No— N-no I—"

"Then I bet you'll find this fucking hilarious."

In some sort of twisted way, the thought of Draven defending me made my heart race. And not out of fear.

Something had to have happened to him that made him sensitive to the topic. Maybe he went through something similar to my situation and it triggered him to watch Brandon laugh. If I looked like him I'd beat the shit out of people all the time. But that guy was a 6'5 machine designed to kill with his gaping muscles and sturdy fists while I was a 5'7 twink (according to Miles).

I frowned again. The sight of his empty bed didn't sit well with me. He hated me rooming with him and I should've been excited to finally not have to stay still all night, but I wasn't. I wanted to know where he was and when he was coming back.

If he was coming back.

The next morning I was sitting quietly with Miles, Nick and Jake again who were immersed in some interesting conversation, but I was just pushing my 'food' around my plate. One of the nurses motioned for me to eat from across the room and I sighed, choking down the unpleasant taste.

"Why are you all mopey?" Jake looked me up and down being smirking, "Is it because you miss your boyfriend?"

Yes.

I rolled my eyes at him, "just tired."

Miles gave me a pat on the back, "are you getting nightmares from that whole mess?" He cringed just thinking about it, "I can still smell the blood and picture his lifeless body on the ground."

"That guy is just cruel," Nick shook his head, frowning at the subject.

I felt myself getting defensive, not liking hearing people badmouth Draven. "Why?"

Nick looked at me like I was an idiot, "if he just told Brandon to shut up he never would've done it again. Draven didn't have to fucking kill the dude."

I fiddled with my sleeves. He was kind of right. But hearing people say bad things about him made my stomach hurt.

"We don't know if he's dead yet..." was the only response my dumb brain could come up with.

"Does it even matter?" Jake said casually, "that guy is a dickhead anyway. I'm glad I don't have to breathe the same air as him anymore."

I silently thanked Jake. At least someone felt the same as I did.

I cleared my throat, "so where is he now anyway?" I tried to be casual but the question was eating me up inside.

"Either prison or solitary again." Miles shrugged, "I have no idea how he's still here after how many times he's been sent down there."

"Maybe they're too scared to transfer him." Jake pointed out, rubbing the back of his neck. "Honestly, I'd be scared too."

Trying to be casual but failing once again I cut in, "how long do they hold people down there?"

Nick scratched his beard in thought, "Depends on how severe whatever you did is. For a normal patient they'd keep you down there for weeks." He paused, "but Draven always gets out so much faster than everyone else. Makes no sense."

My excitement built up. "So he might be back soon?"

Nick gave me a doubtful look, "I'd usually say yes, but this is the worst thing I've ever witnessed him do. Maybe they'll finally lock that psychopath away once and for all."

I felt angry hearing him say that. My first instinct was to defend Draven even though we were two complete strangers. I didn't know him and he didn't know me. So why did I give a shit?

Suddenly the cafeteria doors burst open and my heart started pounding in my chest. My lips parted and my mouth went dry at the sight of who strode in.

It was Chris, that asshole who pushed me because I was holding up the line. The same guy who got sent to solitary because of me. Well, it wasn't my fault but he'd still blame me of course.

His buddies cheered as he approached their designated table, giving them all fist bumps and that bro handshake cool guys do.

"Well fuck." Miles muttered under his breath, "you're screwed man."

I kicked his shin under the table and ignored his whine. "If I'm screwed so are you! You can't just leave me to die!"

He scoffed, "says who?"

I gave him my best puppy dog eyes and he gave in immediately, "alright, alright. Just stop looking at me like that."

I grinned, forcing Nick and Jake to watch out for me too. Nick immediately agreed while Jake complained before giving in after a few minutes.

The four of us couldn't do much. Nick could probably hold his own to some extent, but Miles and Jake would immediately die. I was decent at fighting but that was compared to high schoolers. These guys all looked like grown ass men.

It was weird how I felt about the situation. All of it. Being in a psychiatric ward, Draven, getting murdered by Chris. It was like I knew I should want to be safe, but a deeper part of me didn't care.

I was still trying not to let what happened get to me. Plus Brandon laughing just made me feel worse about being vulnerable. I didn't want to be sad and deal with reality.

But being in this place was kind of a relief after I got used to it and developed friends. Yeah, most of the patients are batshit crazy, but Nick, Jake And Miles aren't. None of us knew the reason why the others ended up here, but on some emotional level it didn't matter.

We were still all hurting for one reason or another. I got to be around people that made me feel understood.

I just wished that the remaining ninety-five percent of people here weren't insane.

And I wished Draven would come back even though I didn't know him. I kind of felt like it was my fault he was gone in the first place.

I was alone again, trapped in my own thoughts as I tried to fall asleep that night, staring at his empty bed for hours while wondering if he was okay.