A blonde teen limps into the day room, using clearly brand new cane to help himself along, taking most of the weight away from him left leg. He blinks owlishly and looks around the room, his eyes almost completely devoid of emotion.
His eyes shoot to her, his body remaining still as he assesses her like prey watches its potential predator. "I'm fine. Thank you."
Where a very skinny boy leans over the counter, grinning rakishly at her. He's clearly asking for something and judging by her face, it is not something he's going to get.
He eyes the boy before limping his way awkwardly towards a chair near a window to sit in.
"...only the new boy that gets your special attention, Becca?" Adrian can hear him say, in a very flirty voice, as he goes past.
Adrian is left alone for the most part, until about an hour later, when the psych who admitted him drops into the seat next to him. "Morning, Adrian. How're you feeling?"
His eyes flicker to the man, conveying in a single glare that he feels like he's trapped against his will, and he isn't feeling particularly friendly.
Zevran takes it in stride. "Noted. I'm sorry that you're not happy, but I promise we are only here to help you. I'll just need to ask a few questions, then I'll be out of your hair. Do we have a deal?"
His jaw tics with annoyance, but he nods in acquiescence. "Fire away, haven't got anything better to do with my day."
"Agreed. Someone needs to step up the recreation in this place, for godssake."
Zevran opens up a clipboard, pulls a pen out from his pocket. "On a scale of one to ten, how are feeling about..." He goes down a list of questions, mostly pertaining to Adrian's mood.
He snorts derisively but answers, the summation of answers coming to the conclusion that he has little to no self worth, belief in his future, and he is angry as all get out. He has lost his future, his sense of self, and now he is somewhere strange, unappealing, and all alone. He just wants his brothers, and his leg back.
Zevran notes all of this, the hopeless note in Adrian's voice, and the underlying anger under all of that. God, but does a small part of him identify with it.
"We'll have a proper session later in the week, if you feel up to it, but in the meantime, are you experiencing any thoughts of self-harm or suicide?"
"Right, 'cause I have a choice in this. But no, I promise I'm not at all tempted to try and amputate this stupid useless leg."
"Keep in mind we don't know for sure yet, that it is 'useless'. The surgeon's still got to have a look. We'll let you know when the appointment's coming up. And I am gonna hold you to that promise." Zevran writes down a few more notes, then closes his clipboard.
"As promised, I'm out of your hair. But, if you do want to talk, about anything, let me know. I'm just over at the nurse's station."
"Uh huh... I'll be here, can't be anywhere else."
Zevran holds back his usual spiel about 'being here to help', considering Adrian looks two seconds away from punching him. Slower approach.
"Dr Kinoch will be by later, just to check up on you. No personal questions, cross my heart." With that, Zevran's up and gone.
He doesn't acknowledge the doctor anymore, turning back to stare out into the world he is being kept from, his hands fidgeting anxiously.
Someone coughs from behind Adrian.
He turns to see who it is and squints, annoyed. "Excuse you."
He points to himself, looking mock-indignant. "Honestly, one day in here and you think you run the place."
"You coughed, would you have preferred I say Robitussin?"
"Oooh! He has jokes! Well, then, that changes everything."
The boy flops into the seat next to Adrian.
"Uh huh..." He looks at his current conversational partner suspiciously. "Is there something you want?"
He points at Adrian's leg. "Odd thing to do to yourself."