Rise and Shine [closed]

Raphael used the backs of his knuckles to rap against Jiho's door, waiting several moments before letting himself in. He looked pristine today; his long black hair gathered into a tail at the nape of his neck, a solid gunmetal colored tie complimenting a light blue dress shirt which was then tucked neatly into straight black slacks. Over it all, he wore a large, white lab coat that hugged his broad shoulders. In his hands he carried a clipboard loaded with records and a notebook of unlined paper as occasionally his notes took the form of pictures instead of words.

"Mr. Woo," He spoke as stepped forward, flicked on the light and shut the door behind him. "Good morning." It was six o'clock and Raphael was hoping to catch his patient during the last REM cycle and interrupt it. He was expecting crankiness.

It was now several months into his last year of residency and most, if not all, of Acropolis knew him for the gentle giant that he was. Regardless of the fact, his face was just as severe as ever and his imposing posture drew the sharp lines of his large body up further into the realms of intimidation.

He retrieved the pen from the breast pocket of his coat and immediately scribbled notes before a question was even asked.

I had just been enjoying a nice dream, one that was more like a wish for the future (namely being out of here), when I was startled awake and I jolted upright, almost falling out of the bed before I caught myself. Taking a few deep breaths, I didn't even open my eyes for a moment, trying to relish in the last part of the dream. Eventually I gave up, sighing in irritation before looking to the door.

It was rare that I didn't have nightmares. So of course I got woken up when I was having actually good dreams.

At least it wasn't someone I hated.

"Why?" I asked, voice gravelly with sleep. Couldn't he have just waited a few more minutes? Or maybe a good hour or two, When it wasn't the crack of fucking dawn.

"Because I said so," Raphael answered bluntly. It was a short jab at humor but he never paused for a reaction so it might not have come off as such. Honey colored eyes took in Jiho's demeanor and the state of his room. Not that the patients here had much but he always noted if they kept their few belongings neat and orderly. He recorded the condition of Jiho's bed. His sheets and blankets still nicely in tact and not torn about and untucked; that was a welcome development.

Polished shoes tapped against the hard floor as he made his way towards the uninviting folding chair in the opposite corner where he spun it around but held off on taking a seat. Like a magician, he seemed to conjure a stethoscope from around his neck and stepped closer.

"Ms. Richards is currently busy rationing this mornings medication, so if you'll excuse me, I want to check your vitals before we talk." Abby Richards was the current on duty nurse. Raphael made it a point to know the names of the people he worked with, another one of his quirks so it seemed. The Native's hands were warm and practiced as the nodes under Jiho's jawline were checked in addition to heart rate, pulse and blood pressure. Raphael even spent a great deal of time checking the boys eyes; their ability to focus and follow, dilate and retract.

It was a lot of hands on touching and it was extremely unusual for him, but the truth was that Raphael was intending to make Jiho uncomfortable. There was an awful lot of violent background in the kid's file and an awful lot of non violence during his stay. Something wasn't adding up properly. Could it be Jiho was just a normal kid that got into trouble? People that broke the law went to jail, not the asylum. So without pushing too hard or drawing too much attention to his intentions, Raphael would place Jiho on a precipice and see what was the deciding factor that would cause him to tumble.

"Can you remember your dreams? Any of them unpleasant?"

I watched the doctor walk about the room, lips pursed as I tried to decide if he was poking fun at my question or just responding like a normal human being. I just sighed, deciding it was more likely to be a normal response than anything else. The amount of touching was too much even for a doctor, and I wasn't exactly a fan.

Checking vitals seemed like a normal thing, though I blinked a lot when my eyes were checked, rubbing them when he finally pulled away.

Too early...

When I was questioned about dreams, however, I frowned, immediately remembering the one I had just woken up from. I sighed.

"Mostly," I replied, looking down. "Some good ones. Sometimes none at all." But what did that have to do with anything? The last time I'd seen this guy he'd given me a sketchbook, which I'd long since filled. Now here he was, talking to me about dreams? Okay.

At least I'd gotten somewhat used to being touched. I was getting so much better at handling that.

Raphael moved to sit down about this time, long legs easily scaling the seat as he settled in. He left his paperwork on the floor at his feet and directed all of his attention towards Jiho. He didn't let those short, curt answers slip by his notice.

"Tell me about these dreams. What can you remember?"

It wasn't strange if Jiho was confused about where all this was going, most of Raphael's colleagues would also be baffled by his intent but that was part of the reason he had graduated with high honors. Raphael's mind operated in ways others did not. Sure he'd read all the books and followed step by step procedures; anyone could follow instructions, but it took a different kind of mind to rework problems the way Raphael could. His outward appearance only lent greater mystery to his inner workings.

As weird as this guy seemed, at least he wasn't a complete and utter nutbag like some of the other doctors that worked here seemed to be. Recalling dreams, though... That was something I wasn't too keen on doing. In fact, I kind of wanted to forget them. But here I was, being interrogated about them.

"The bad ones... Usually involve death. In some ways or another. Very striking, though... Very dark." I paused, pulling out my sketchbook and opening it to a page that I'd drawn, a scene from a dream. It was an almost alien landscape, but it still looked pretty distinctly earthly. Someone was leaning against the tree, sort of slumped over. Even in the dream I had never figured out if the person was alive or dead, but considering he'd never moved I'd assumed the second. The entire page was pretty much covered in color, mostly deep purples and reds and black. "It's hard to describe my dreams. Even the good ones."

In all actuality I just mostly didn't want to talk about the good ones. I loved them too much, and they were few and far between. Most involved being back home, being with someone... I handed the sketchbook to the doctor in any case, knowing that if he flipped through it he'd mostly find more dreamscapes and some tattoo designs, as well as portraits of people all around - admittedly mostly of Kyo - and even some self-portraits.

Dark eyes took in all the different nuances in Jiho's body language and expression as he spoke. It was another one of those mannerisms that usually provoked people into a sense of uneasiness around him. Raphael didn't mind that, for there was a lot to learn about a person through keen observation. Most people had no idea the inner thoughts that were given away through the twitch of an eyebrow or the quick tug of the lips.

"Why don't you try?" He asked while taking the notebook offered. He used the back of the chair to prop the book open, lapsing into silence as he flipped through the pages. Subject matter rarely made much difference, what he was looking for was colors, pencil strokes, line placement. Even people that claimed to know nothing about art tended to express themselves very artist-like without even knowing what they were doing. The Native could tell Jiho had natural talent and possibly some training for the likenesses to certain people was uncanny. He could also recognize a bout of puppy love when he saw it written all over pages with a certain face. He wouldn't bring that up just yet.

He looked up when the quiet stretched too far. "Tell me about this one with the tree. Is this reoccurring? Who is the figure? Are you yourself in this dream or are you observing from outside your body?" Raphael hoped the question prompts would give Jiho incentive to dig a little deeper for answers.

Quiet situations had always made me a bit nervous. Very rarely could I get on with someone while not talking, and I didn't know how to break the silence. It seemed like he was taking a liking to looking through my sketches, but at the sudden bout of questions I blinked, trying to answer them all as they came up.

"I've had it a few times," I answered, legs curling up under me on the bed. "But I don't know who that is. I don't even know if I'm seeing it from my own eyes or from outside myself because I never see myself. So either I'm not in the dreams at all or I'm seeing through my own eyes." I shrugged, looking down and playing with the hem of my shirt.

"As far as the dream... There's not much to tell. It's just this eerie panorama, and no matter where I look I see... that guy out of the corner of my eye. But I can't get near him. It's so weird." I shivered slightly, shaking my head.

I honestly wish we could talk about almost anything else.

Raphael mulled his answers over in his head. Still displeased with the lack of insight and detail. Jiho was either holding back, unable to communicate properly or not able to tap into his own brain well enough to remember. Lucky for him there were different therapies to help each option, the problem remained as to which it was.

"Are you having a hard time talking with me, Mr. Woo?" Something right there changed. It wasn't as if Raphael spoke harshly but he was always rather blunt, to the point and no nonsense in articulating his words, but just now there was an unforeseen gentleness that was wrapped around his question. No matter how it was dissected, it seemed absolutely genuine. The rare cant of his head backed it up.

"I ask because there is going to have to be a level of trust between us if we're to work on getting you well," Immediately after the words left his lips he held up his hand as if to stop Jiho from any thinking or rebuttal just yet. "I understand we don't know each other, but as your doctor, I want you to know you can have the utmost of confidence in me. Anything you tell me will be absolutely confidential."

Raphael shifted his weight upon the chair and leaned forward just a bit. "It's very important that when I ask questions, no matter how silly or trivial they may seem, that you answer honestly and to the best of your ability. So while we're working on this trust thing, can I at least count on you to try your hardest?"

When I was questioned once again I looked up, brow quirked. Was I having a hard time talking to him? Maybe a bit but it was more the subject matter that was making me clam up. I wasn't used to talking about dreams - hell, he should be happy I even mentioned them at all. Just because I was having nightmares didn't mean I needed to talk them over. But he was a doctor.

I shook my head then, lips turned down in distaste at the use of the phrase 'get you well'. Ugh. Still, I guess for now I had to understand where he was coming from, and like I said, at least he seemed sane.

"Yeah," I answered, nodding and looking back down. "Yeah you can trust me to try."

It wasn't a lie after all. I could work with this guy.

Retrieving his stack of papers, files and notebooks from the floor, Raphael scribbled a few more things. He used key words and phrases like "lack of eye contact" and "limited word usage" and "insufficient memory recall". Quick gesture drawings of withdrawn body language lined the margins.

He shuffled Jiho's completed notebook into his collection and rewarded the boy with fresh, clean one without any ultimatum or instructions. Certainly Jiho knew what to do by now.

"Mr. Woo, I think there is a lot we can learn from your dreams and unconscious mind. The problem is just getting there. I think you're actually a very good candidate for hypnotherapy. I'll discuss this option with Dr. Murata and meet with you again in the coming weeks. In the meantime, keep working on that notebook. I want you to try harder to remember your dreams and keep record of them."

He moved to stand up and straighten his coat. Checking his watch, the time was nearly 7 o'clock, still enough time for morning rituals and prayers before the day officially started. With his handful of papers tucked neatly under his arm he paused just before reaching the door.

"Any questions before I let you go back to sleep?"

Hypnotherapy? That sounded pretty much awful and like it was going to mess with my head a lot, something I wasn't really looking forward to. And at the mention of a second name I cocked my head, eyes narrowing. Murata? Had I met him before? I wasn't sure.

While a new notebook was great and all, when my old one was taken I frowned, looking at it almost longingly. I didn't like things being taken away from me, especially when it came to my art. After a moment of silence, I looked up.

"Actually..." I started, mussing my hair up as I looked for something to do with my hands. "... There's one picture in there... That I'd like to keep."

I was referring to the one I had done of Kyo, the one in blues and blacks from a few weeks before. I was proud of that one - it looked almost exactly like him and had captured something I'd never been able to before. The rest he could keep, but that one I wanted.

If they were gonna be hypnotizing me, the least they could do was let me keep a fucking piece of paper.

The stoic expression on Raphael's face eased as his mouth showed traces of a sympathetic frown. "I understand your concern. Unfortunately, these notebooks are property of Acropolis and a part of your medical record. I cannot honor that request." Of course, Raphael was going to be in for a bit of shock when he found pages missing later that evening. He had no wiggle room as he hadn't actually made that information known when first handing over the blank book.

The Native shifted his weight; a rather nasty hidden wound still healing on his shin. Honey colored eyes observed Jiho as he fidgeted; an obvious outward sign of unpleasantness. But the doctor wasn't without commiseration, of course he'd be upset. Nobody liked having things taken from them, especially things rooted in sentiments and emotion. And to be honest, Raphael wasn't too keen in having to take things away but analysis would have to be made and to do that he needed the entire picture of Jiho's thought process.

He pursed his lips in thought. "Tell you what, give me a week and I'll return it. I'll be sticking my neck out for you by doing so, consequently, I expect you'll be cooperative and trust my judgement. Sound fair?"

Wow... I wasn't even angry about this. I was just depressed.

For once I had a piece of art that actually represented my feelings almost perfectly, with every little wisp of a line and splash of cool color. But now it was going to be gone? That actually fucking hurt.

I glanced up when I saw the doctor shift in his spot - something was bothering him but I didn't know what. Could have just been a bit of discomfort, or an injury - I didn't know. It probably wasn't my place to begin with...

"Are you okay?" I asked anyway, brow raised.

When he continued talking, though, my expression did brighten a bit - if that meant I could get my whole book back, that was even better! So I nodded, smiling a bit.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be good," I replied, unable to keep myself from smirking but dropping it a moment later as I fell onto my back on the bed.

It was good to see a friendlier expression on the boy's face and therefore Raphael waved off his inquiry as trivial. Right now it felt as if they'd both taken a good step in the right direction and that warranted the pang of pride that lifted his spirits.

"Good," Raphael responded, readjusting his load and taking a brief moment to ensure Jiho was content enough to resume his sleep. "Get some rest."

With that, the Shoshone man let himself out and closed the door behind him, not entirely sure he'd learned anything new that wasn't already recorded in the kid's file but determined things were progressing properly.