CrystalNinjaPhoenix

Hi, I'm Crystal!

24 years old. I'm trying this out. Mostly a fanfiction writer. Pretty much only for jacksepticeye egos haha.


Part Two of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Though Schneep isn't making much progress, Dr. Laurens is determined to find a way to help, no matter what setback occur.]
.............................................................................................

Dr. Laurens hurried through the halls of the hospital, barely staying aware enough to dodge orderlies and patients in her way. She was a bit lost in her own thoughts. When she first took on the Schneeplestein case, she hadn’t expected there to be so many…difficulties. So many…incidents.

She glanced to the side, and was immediately reminded of one of them. Passing the entrance to the hospital cafeteria she could see most other patients inside eating lunch. Normally she’d be taking this time to eat in her office. But last week, Schneep had attempted to stab another patient with a plastic fork. Well, “attempted” wasn’t exactly the correct word, because that implied there was a failure to stab. Luckily, the skin hadn’t actually been broken, so no blood. But the whole thing was still enough to get Schneep banned from the cafeteria. When Laurens asked him about it later, he refused to give an explanation, other than a mumbled “Thought he was someone else.”

If Laurens was being perfectly honest with herself, there were times when she considered dropping the case altogether and handing it over to Dr. Newson, who kept hinting that she’d be happy to take it. After all, did she really want to spend so much time with the guy who 1) killed thirteen people and 2) somehow kept managing to stab people while in a secure hospital? But then she’d remember Dr. Newson’s voice that first day: “Still wanna take this?” Like Laurens couldn’t handle it. Well, Laurens wasn’t one to give up easily. And besides…she just couldn’t leave someone who needed help. And Schneeplestein, as…strange…as he was, was clearly afraid of something. Laurens was sure she could do something about that.

Laurens finally reached her destination: Room 309. There was an orderly waiting outside—Oliver, if she remembered correctly—holding a paper cup. She smiled at him. “You can wait outside, Oliver.” She tried to put a cheerful note in her voice.

He frowned. “Dr. Newson said—”

“If anything bad happens, I’ll shout.” When he didn’t look convinced, she smiled again and said, “Besides, I’m sure you want to keep texting whoever it was.”

The orderly almost dropped the cup in shock. “How did you—”

“You were a little slow putting it away. I know phones are off-limits inside the halls, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” She let the statement hang in the air. You could almost hear the “unless” that would follow.

“R-right.” Oliver backed up, handing her the paper cup. “You go on ahead, doc. Don’t forget to shout.”

“I won’t.” Laurens adjusted the items she was holding so she could accommodate the cup, then turned the room’s door handle and stepped inside, closing it behind her.

The inside was identical to all the other bedrooms at the hospital. In the corner was a bed with beige pillows and blankets that were securely tucked in under the mattress. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp and across the room was a dresser. There were also a pair of armchairs with a small, round table in between them. Overall, Laurens thought it was a nice room to stay in. There was even a window on the far wall, though it lacked the ability to open like windows normally had. Schneep was currently standing at said window, looking out and not turning around when Laurens came in.

“Hello Schneep,” she said, once again putting a happy tone to her words. She walked over to the pair of armchairs, setting her stuff down on the table. Notebook, paper cup, pencil (she hurriedly tucked that behind her ear), and lunchbox. “How are you feeling today?”

Schneep glanced over at her, made a noncommittal noise, then continued looking out the window.

“I see.” She didn’t. “Well, I brought lunch.”

That got his attention. He turned around. “What?”

“Soup,” she explained, pulling a thermos out of the lunchbox. “It’s just potato, but I have crackers too. And, uh, cheese, and some fruit.” She laughed a little. Partly to cover up the sudden jump her nerves made. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by her natural anxiety or genuine worry or fear.

Schneep pushed away from the window and wandered over, sitting in one of the chairs. He watched her silently as she took out the rest of the food from the surprisingly large lunchbox. Then he noticed the open notebook, and tried to lean over to look at it. Laurens quickly pulled it over behind the box. “This is…new,” he said slowly.

“Well.” Laurens shrugged. “I figured that since our sessions usually fall after lunch time, that it would be a good idea to combine them. I mean, I’m not the best cook but I think I’m better than what they bring you.” She chuckled. In truth, the cafeteria food wasn’t that bad, but homemade had to be better.

“So. If I understand this correctly.” Schneep leaned forward onto the table, placing his chin in his hand. “We are going on a lunch date, except instead of chit-chatting, you are trying to analyze me.”

Laurens froze. “We-we-well, uh, ah, you see, I-I didn’t—” She could feel her face heating up.

Schneep smiled. “It is joke, do not worry. I know this is not the place for things like that. Besides, I am married.”

“I thought you were divorced?” Laurens muttered, taking a seat in the other chair.

“Ah, separated, but we still talk.” His smile faded. “We…did, at least.”

Laurens nodded. She pulled the notebook toward her and pushed the food toward Schneep, who stared at it for a moment before slowly reaching toward the thermos and unscrewing the lid. “Do you, um, remember what we were talking about last session?” She asked.

There was a long silence as she waited for Schneep to answer. It was a while, as he seemed more focused on the potato soup than her question. But after a few moments, he mumbled, “I believe you were attacking me about what happened last year on Christmas.”

“I wasn’t attacking you,” Laurens said. “Just asking if you wanted to talk about it.”

“Yes, but I did not—and I still do not!—and you kept asking.” Schneep looked to the side, towards the window. “I was not involved with those videos, I promise you.”

“Alright.” Laurens decided not to mention the fact that he was in several of “those videos.” Last session had been the two of them going in circles, and she felt if she continued to bring up the Christmas incident, then this one would be too. She decided to move on. “I like your hoodie,” she said. “Didn’t take you for the type to wear them.”

“…oh.” Schneep reached up and uncomfortably tugged on the hoodie strings. “Well, it was not mine at first.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it belonged to my friend. Jackie. He left it at my apartment one day, then only realized he left it there after he bought a replacement. So he let me keep it.”

“Jackie?” Laurens asked, intrigued. “Do you mean your friend Jack?”

Schneep laughed. “No, Jack and Jackie are different people. Though they would make jokes about that. They already looked similar enough, so they would say they are clones.”

Laurens smiled a bit. “Nice. And these two…they were the only people you considered friends?”

“No, no.” Schneep shook his head. “There was Chase and Marvin, too. It was the five of us, all together. Sometimes I thought we were closer to family.” His expression shifted, becoming a bit grayer. “I…have not seen them in a long time. I-I almost thought—hoped—they would come visit me, but I suppose not.”

“Oh…” Laurens felt an ache in her chest. “Why do you think that is?”

Schneep snorted. “Well, maybe, perhaps, because I—” He stopped short suddenly, stiffening. He turned around and looked behind him.

“Schneep?”

He was silent for a moment, eyes locked on a single spot on the wall. Then: “Shut up.”

Laurens blinked. “Me?”

He turned back around. “No, not you, I—” He sighed, letting his had fall forward into his hands. “Why am I explaining this to you? You think it is in my head.”

“Well…that doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Laurens said slowly. She was pretty sure she heard that in Harry Potter, but damn it, it was applicable to this situation. “Do you want to talk about that, or keep talking about your friends? Why do you think you haven’t seen them in a while?”

Schneep laughed dryly. “It does not matter. It is safer this way.”

“Safer?” Laurens blinked. “Why?”

There was no answer. Schneep didn’t even look up. Laurens shifted uncomfortably, making a few quick notes in her notebook in the hopes he’d say something soon. When he still hadn’t, she cleared her throat. It was worth a guess, wasn’t it? “Are you…afraid you’ll hurt them?”

Schneep looked back up. After a moment of staring at her, he nodded. Slowly.

“Oh.” Laurens didn’t feel that good about guessing correctly. If anything, she felt worse. Not in a way related to herself. But…god, she had the file on Schneep’s case. She was there when he attacked an orderly with a pen, when he’d scratched up another patient’s face. Which meant she remembered how he would start wailing apologies as soon as it was over, how he’d repeat over and over again that he didn’t mean to, that it wasn’t his fault. As bloody as his case file was, he didn’t want this. She set the notebook down. “Look, I…it may sound weird, but I believe in you. You can work through this. And we can help you with that. It’s why we’re here, after all.”

“You cannot help me.” It was less a contradiction, and more a toneless statement of fact.

“Well, we can try. Who knows? Maybe we’ll surprise you.” She tried for a gentle smile. “Hey, the food is getting cold. Are you still hungry?”

After a moment, Schneep straightened and started picking at the food she’d brought.

“Oh! And you need to remember this.” Laurens pushed the paper cup toward him. The pills inside clacked against each other.

“Yes, yes,” Schneep mumbled. He looked over at her and paused. His mouth opened, like he was about to say something. Then he closed it again, shook his head, and resumed.

And even though that night Laurens would look over the notes she took for this session and feel like nothing got done, she would later remember this as one of the better ones.
.............................................................................................

What made a “good” session didn’t always depend on her. Of course, there were times when she wouldn’t push enough, and the session would be mostly chatter, or when she would push too much and Schneep would shut down in silent anger. But also…well, she learned quickly that if Schneep was having one of his bad days, they wouldn’t get much done at all.

Like the day he threw the lamp at the window. She came in to find it broken on the floor and Schneep banging and clawing at the glass. He kept attempting to force open the window, repeating “Ich bin gefangen…lass mich raus, lass mich raus!” Occasionally, he would shout “Behalte mich nicht bei ihm!” Laurens didn’t speak German, so she didn’t know what he was saying, but she could tell he was distressed. She spent the entire time attempting to calm him down.

Then there was the day, about a month after the first lunch session, when she finally made good on her promise to call for an orderly if something went wrong.

She could immediately tell this was going to be a difficult day the moment she walked into Room 309. While Schneep would usually be sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for her, today he was sitting on the bed in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chest. His eyes were wide, and there were dark bags under them. Laurens very much doubted that he’d gone to sleep the night before.

She set her lunchbox down on the small round table. Hopefully she’d get to use that today, but possibly not. “Hello Schneep,” she said. “How are you feeling today?”

Schneep didn’t say anything in answer to her usual greeting. His eyes were focused on some point in space in front of him.

“Ah. Well, that’s too bad.” She dragged one of the armchairs over so it was closer to the bed and sat down. She set her notebook on her knees and opened up to the page with today’s date listed at the top. “I brought food. We can get to that later, though, if you’re not up for it yet.” She looked up at him. “Last time we were—”

“I hate this.”

Laurens blinked. “Ex-excuse me?”

“I hate this.” Schneep was pulling on the strings of the hoodie he was wearing. It was the only one he had, the one he said belonged to his friend. “I hate this, I hate this, hate it, hate this—”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘this’,” Laurens said patiently.

“Yes you do. You do not? You do. Please do not lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, I promise.” She gripped the edges of the notebook tightly.

His eyes whipped over toward her, still wide. “Please do not do this.”

“H-how about you tell me what the ‘this’ is, and maybe I’ll understand what you mean,” she suggested.

He looked away again, back towards that spot. “It is still going on. Why? Why does it not end?” He tugged on the hoodie strings again. “It is never over. Not—not going anywhere.”

“What isn’t?” Laurens asked quietly.

“Where are they? I do not know. I-I do not know what he wants from me.” Schneep suddenly grinned, a strangled, manic laugh escaping. His hand shot up and clamped over his mouth, but there was still the muffled sound of giggling. He started rocking back and forth, using his other arm to hug himself.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Laurens leaned forward, putting all the reassurance she could in her voice. “I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know everything. Who are ‘they’?”

Schneep looked back over to her. He unfolded a little from his position, though still rocking and still covering his mouth, and tugged on the hood of the hoodie he was wearing.

Lauren’s brows lowered. “Your…friends?” When Schneep nodded, she said, “I-I might be able to find them. They could come visit. Would you like that?” Another nod. Laurens briefly looked down to write a note to herself in her notebook. Schneep had provided a lot of information about them during their sessions, maybe she could do something to track them down. She looked back up. “And…who is the ‘he’?”

A renewed round of muffled laughter. Schneep began shaking his head vigorously, covering his head with the arm not already covering his mouth. He pushed backward into the wall, curling up tight once again.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to say anything, don’t worry.” Laurens began flipping through her notebook to a single page near the back. This wasn’t the first, or even the second or the third time Schneep had mentioned a mysterious “him.” She wasn’t sure exactly what “he” meant for Schneep, only that he was very, very afraid of “him.” She was sure that if she got him to tell her about “him,” she’d make progress on what was going on inside his mind, and how to help him deal with it.

Laurens took a moment to make a few notes, first about “him” and then about Schneep’s behavior this session. “I wanted to ask you about your medication. You know, the pills? Are they working?” Probably not. She’d probably have to change the prescription soon. “Schneep?” She looked up.

Schneep had seemed to calm down. At first glance. There wasn’t anymore rocking, and his arms weren’t wrapped around his head anymore. But then she saw that was because they were busy wrapping—

“No!” Laurens lunged forward, her notebook toppling to the floor. “Stop that! Please!”

Schneep didn’t listen to her, and when she tried to pull his hands away, he resisted. It was the string. The string that was supposed to be inside the hood, but had apparently been pulled out. It was now tangled around Schneep’s neck, and he was pulling it tighter.

“Schneep! H-Henrik, don’t—” Laurens grabbed his wrists and tried pulling them away, but with the string still tightly held in his hands that was just making it worse. She tried to pry away his fingers, and when that failed, to grab the string around his neck and pull it off. It didn’t work. She wasn’t the strongest person in the first place, and Schneep jerked his head and hands away whenever possible. She was beginning to hear small choking noises.

There was no other option. “Help!” She shouted. “Someone, anyone! We need help in here!”

Like always, an orderly had been waiting outside the door. He barged inside, taking in the scene for only a brief moment before running to Laurens’s side. A struggle later, the hoodie string was safely removed and tucked into the orderly’s pocket while Schneep was half-lying in Laurens’s arms, wheezing slightly.

Laurens looked over to the orderly. “Thanks, Oliver.”

“What happened?”

“I-I don’t know. I just looked down for a minute and he must’ve—it was from his hoodie, he removed it and started—” Laurens shuddered.

“Oh, god,” Oliver muttered disbelievingly. “We should tell Dr. Newson about this.”

“Y-yes, probably a good idea. And can you page for the med team? Just to check for any damage.” While the orderly did that, Laurens looked down at Schneep. “Hey. Stay with me, buddy. I…I hope you know that…I-I’m trying my best.”

There was a dry, hacking sound that Laurens took a moment to recognize as a laugh. Schneep muttered something.

Laurens stared at him. “What did you say…?”

“The med team’s already here,” Oliver suddenly said. “It’s probably a good thing we’re close to the med wing.”

“Oh. Okay…” Laurens was quiet as the others took Schneep away. Was quiet as she picked up her notebook and lunch box and followed them down to the medical wing. Was quiet as they said he should probably stay there for at least a night. Was quiet as she wandered down the halls toward her office.

She’d told him she was trying her best.

He responded, “So did I.”

Laurens wrote this in her notebook. She wasn’t sure why, but…it seemed important.
.............................................................................................

“Oh yeah, we had to confiscate that.”

“You what?!”

Laurens stared at Dr. Newson. She’d been called down to her office to give updates on Schneep’s progress, since the strangling incident that week might’ve seemed…counter-productive. She also wondered if maybe Dr. Newson was taking this as a chance to convince her to drop the case. But nothing could’ve prepared her for Dr. Newson casually mentioning…that.

“Well, of course.” Dr. Newson shrugged. Her posture was very relaxed, almost lounging in her office swivel chair on the other side of the desk. “You know the regulations. If we can’t have button-up shirts in the hospital, then I guess we can’t have hoodies either.”

“You…you could’ve just removed the string and let him keep the hoodie itself,” Laurens suggested.

“Hmmmm maybe.” Dr. Newson leaned back. “Or maybe he would’ve found a way to choke himself on that overlarge collar hoodies have. I’m not taking that risk.”

“But Dr. Newson—”

“Who’s in charge of the hospital?”

Laurens looked down, shifting in her chair. She idly looked around Dr. Newson’s desk as a way to distract herself. A bunch of paperwork, a desktop computer, and a framed photograph of Dr. Newson with a man who looked a lot like her.

“Why are you so concerned about this?” Dr. Newson asked. “It’s just a hoodie.”

“It-it’s important to him,” Laurens said meekly.

“Huh,” Dr. Newson stated. Was it just Laurens’s imagination, or was there a new, hard light in Newson’s eyes? “Well, I would think staying alive would be worth more. You can apologize to him if you want.”

Laurens nodded.

Dr. Newson idly ran a hand through her ponytail. “I’m thinking we need to move him to the first floor.”

“What?!” Laurens straightened. “No! We’re not at that point yet!”

“After multiple attempted attacks on staff and patients, shown destructive behavior, and now this? We’re still not at the point, huh?”

“But—but nothing’s succeeded since the pen incident,” Laurens said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.

“Alright, fine,” Dr, Newson waved away. “It’s too much red tape anyway. But know I’m considering it. I expect more progress reports from you.”

Laurens felt an acidic wave of words rise in her throat. Progress reports? Like it was as simple as building a new road. The human mind was a lot more complicated than that, and progress wasn’t linear. But of course, she couldn’t yell any of this at her boss, so she kept quiet.

“I’ll be keeping track of any more incidents,” Dr. Newson continued. “If they become excessive, and/or dangerous, and/or more successful, then we’re moving him. Okay?”

“Okay,” Laurens repeated quietly.

“Great.” Dr. Newson straightened up. “You’ve dropped all other patients to focus on this, Rya, don’t fail.” She relaxed again. “You can leave now, if there isn’t anything else.”

Laurens pushed her chair back and stood up. “Goodbye, Dr. Newson. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” Dr. Newson waved lazily. As Laurens left, she heard Newson mutter something else. “Dunno why you’re so concerned about this anyway.”

It was a good question. Why was Laurens so concerned with Schneep’s predicament? But a better question was, why wouldn’t she be? She’d seen him lash out at others, true, but she also saw him strangle himself with a hoodie string. She’d read the case file about all the things he’d done to those poor people, but she also heard him admit he was scared he’d hurt his friends.

Dr. Schneeplestein was not fully in control of his own mind. And he knew it. And it terrified him. Maybe it was Laurens’s natural empathy, or maybe it was her training as a psychiatrist that told her to never leave anyone behind, but she wanted to help.

And when she arrived home that night, she logged onto her computer and typed a name into a search bar. Maybe she could help by finding someone he wanted to see.

Or maybe it would be a bad thing to alert these people. After all, he had said he didn’t want to hurt them. But Laurens thought that everyone needed their friends.


You must log in to comment.