15 hours of imprisonment had so far been endured since about nine-thirty on the Friday night. It was a late November Saturday, and Johann had spent the past 15 hours getting over the feeling of vomiting and room-spinning, to replace it with the familiar feelings of exhaustion in his lims and the strange buzz of his head as it chattered. This was nothing too unusual, if only amplified by the fact he had to listen to it.

With not sleeping since he was installed in the temporary room on the third floor of St Mungos, he had time to examine what was within, contemplate his situation and become bored. He had made the decision to eat breakfast based on having something to do, and found it wasn't as bad as he had suspected it could be. St Mungo's presumably had elves too, who would draw up the correct diet according to the patient's needs, set out by healers.

Lunch had however been ignored, and Johann, sat cross-legged on the bed in the standard patient's robes. He pushed the plate aside with a long finger, frowning at it as if it had done wrong of him. No, it was time he stretched his legs. More of the other patients had woken up by now and their various ailments and reasons for admittance were something to keep his mind occupied with.

He wasn't confined to this room yet, and he had reasoned that the exercise would wear him out quicker when he had stuck his head out earlier to see sceptical early morning staff wave him back inside. They had been fully informed by Torret, and as he knew now, Hollingbury, of his reasons for being detained. This time however, he slipped through the doorway and into the run of corridors and wards that made up the level.

Getting near the door to the stairs would probably result in him being stuck in his room for his own good, so he resigned himself to the fact a wander around the floor would be as good as he could hope for. Keeping out of the healer's way as carefully as he could, he made his way towards the nearest ward which was busy with patients eating, a few visitors and the uniform presence of the healers.

Hollingbury was on duty, Johann realised, spotting the man doing his rounds. Johann lurked at the top of the ward, just within earshot, but far enough away so it was so obvious he was being his usual nosy self. Intrigued, the chatter in his head turned its attention to the state of the ward and patients around him.

His eyes wandered from Hollingbury to the patient nearest to where he stood, who had swelled to almost twice his usual size and his mouth fell open in surprise at the sight. He'd worked briefly alongside healers years ago helping to explain treatment to those who didn't share a language with the healing staff, but hadn't seen anything by a long stretch of the imagination.

"What are you staring at?" the figure of twice the normal size protested before him. Johann was taken by surprise, he'd not even seen the man's eyes were open given the way his face had swelled.
"Er... nothing!" Johann quickly responded, feeling caught out. His curiosity prevailed. "What happened to you? Does it hurt?"

When he came in this morning to work, Arcturus had already neatly tucked the patients of yesterday onto a mental shelf. He flipped through the paperwork as per his schedule, refreshing his memory as he skimmed across the details, when he came across Johann's admission to the hospital. Then he remembered.

He checked with another healer first to make sure Johann was still in the hospital and not going anywhere near the apothecary whatsoever. After hearing that the apothecary was locked, he was in the room Joy assigned him to and everyone was keeping an eye out for him, he returned to his duties, satisfied with the information and the current situation on the floor.

Once or twice he did see Johann peeking out of the room, at which the other staff would wave him back in. He said nothing at this; unless Johann came raging out of his room at top speed and spouting nonsense as if someone had given him a Babbling Beverage by accident, he wasn't too concerned. Priorities.

He had a very quick early lunch of souvlaki that he had made himself this morning before going back to work. The first patient on his list after lunch was a woman who had an unfortunate accident with Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover and a Weasleys' Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher - well, that was what the traces on her seemed to be, she was refusing to tell the healers exactly what she had been up to with both concoctions.

As he mulled over working on the potions he had to come up with to counter the lingering effects of said accident, the patient next to her suddenly exclaimed, "What are you staring at?" Interrupted from his thinking, he turned around and looked at Johann staring at the poor man.

"Er... nothing! What happened to you? Does it hurt?"

"Someone's Swelling Solution exploded, and unfortunately he was in the way," Arcturus cut in curtly. "Now, do you mind, Mr Storm? I may not mind you wandering about the floor as long as you stay on it as much as the other healers do, but please don't bother the other patients with your restlessness."

He looked back at the swollen patient and gave him an apologetic look. "Pardon him, good sir." Well, that certainly ruined his train of thought for figuring out potions. Arcturus looked down at his clipboard, and then tucked his quill behind his ear and turned away.

Walking out meant he had to eventually step in front of Johann, so he did anyway and, in a less curt tone, asked, "How are you feeling, Mr Storm? You seem well enough to walk, that's for certain."

"Someone's Swelling Solution exploded, and unfortunately he was in the way," Johann's gaze was swiftly averted. Hollingbury had seen him and intervened. Interesting.

"Now, do you mind, Mr Storm? I may not mind you wandering about the floor as long as you stay on it as much as the other healers do, but please don't bother the other patients with your restlessness."

Johann pouted in response and folded his skinny arms across his chest. The standard-issue patient robes were worn by all of those staying in for the night it seemed, including him. A prisoner uniform, and these healers were the jailers.

"Pardon him, good sir."

"Psh. Its not like you can't expect people not to stare." Johann muttered to the inflated man lying on the bed beside where he was lingering, and rolled his eyes. Seeing Hollingbury nearing him again he turned ninety degrees away from the other patient and peered down his nose at Hollingbury - a difference of a few inches between them (Johann at an inch over six feet, and Hollingbury a few below it).

"How are you feeling, Mr Storm? You seem well enough to walk, that's for certain."

"Sleeping potion, not jelly-legs cursed." He quipped back, arms still folded and standing as tall as he could, as if trying to prove he couldn't be intimidated by the man who held him captive. Technically it was Torret, Hollingbury's boss who had declared him captive. Honesty was not necessarily the best policy.

"I'm bored, simply put. I don't see the point in being here." He told the healer bluntly. The fact he felt considerably better than the previous evening helped add to his arrogant comments. "I'm not twice the size, blue, sporting a rash or anything that indicates I'm sick, so why don't you have your bed back for someone who is, hmm?" He suggested, eyes fixed intently on the healer. This was arrogant Johann plus a thin patience due to the lack of sleep now.

"I bet you went down to the apothecary to warn them about me, didn't you? Found out how I did it yet?" He smirked at the man, no longer worried about the young female apothecary attendant who he had stepped inside to see. Despite the fact she was probably feeling guilty and betrayed for what had been happening the past few months. She'd get over it. Romance was overrated.

Arcturus raised his eyebrows at Johann as the man folded his arms. He knew what Johann was doing, but he wasn't even concerned about this. People from all walks and ages of life had attempted intimidating him before; Arcturus had learned to deal with them over time, along with some help from the more experienced healers he had worked with before.

"I'm bored, simply put. I don't see the point in being here. I'm not twice the size, blue, sporting a rash or anything that indicates I'm sick, so why don't you have your bed back for someone who is, hmm?"

"Well, see, Mr Storm," Arcturus replied calmly, "you may think you are not 'ill' compared to the others here, but if we let you go now, you're most likely to default to your addiction once again. It certainly counts as illness in our definition, and I'm fairly sure you'd rather we help you resolve it unless you want to find yourself in St Mungo's again for the same reason as it is now."

"I bet you went down to the apothecary to warn them about me, didn't you? Found out how I did it yet?"

"Mm, no, I didn't," Arcturus said casually. "You're spot on about the apothecary though, and that's all that matters to me. However you did it is none of my concern, though you might have to answer to the actual people in charge of the apothecary if the investigation goes in that direction."

He turned away, checking his clipboard on the next patient. "By the way, Mr Storm, complaining to me won't change your situation much. You're staying here 'til you are better, not 'til you feel better."

"Mm, no, I didn't, you're spot on about the apothecary though, and that's all that matters to me. However you did it is none of my concern, though you might have to answer to the actual people in charge of the apothecary if the investigation goes in that direction."

The momentary satisfaction that his social thievery had not been uncovered, he could only assume the witch was not yet on duty or had kept it to herself out of humiliation, passed quickly at the mention of an investigation. He'd tried not to think too much about the fact his stealing might actually warrant a conviction or a mark against him in legal terms.

"By the way, Mr Storm, complaining to me won't change your situation much. You're staying here 'til you are better, not 'til you feel better." It was intriguing to hear Hollingbury speak without being in his senior's shadow. Strategy one of playing on the fact he had shadowed earlier had not worked out. Arcturus had a voice, and a firm opinion that didn't waver out of earshot of Torret.

"If what Torret explained last night is true, we'll endure each other's company for some time yet then." Johann raised his eyebrows. "And this will probably be my most cordial of days." That is, unless this hangover ahead of him rendered him as timid as a kitten and willing to do anything this badger-haired man wished him to do.

"Fine, I won't complain." Johann replied in a deadpan voice. "Your boss didn't actually detail what delightful things I will experience during my stay, I suppose its part of the adventure? A Christmas present come early." His folded arms dropped and then lifted again as he mimed surprise.

The expression lasted only moments, his arrogance was being eaten at by underlying fear and need to slip into blissful sleep by other needs. His shoulders sagged a little, and his arms fell by his sides heavily.
"I tried going without before you know, it didn't work. I know how Merlin-awful I felt then, and I caved. That was months ago. My ... dependence... is a lot more progressed now. I don't want to go back through that." His eyelids closed a moment and he waved a hand, opening them again before backing out of the question somewhat, a part of him afraid to consider or ask it.   

"Sorry, you're busy. I'll leave the fat guy alone and go somewhere else."

"If what Torret explained last night is true, we'll endure each other's company for some time yet then. And this will probably be my most cordial of days. Fine, I won't complain. Your boss didn't actually detail what delightful things I will experience during my stay, I suppose its part of the adventure? A Christmas present come early."

Nothing could be flatter than a piece of parchment than Johann's tone, right now. Arcturus, for a moment, let his eyebrows lower and give Johann his personal blank poker face - the expression he reserved for annoyance. Just to match Johann's tone. Sometimes it had to be done.

In a tone just as flat as Johann's, Arcturus remarked, "It's not exactly Christmas on my end either, is it? You're not the one dealing with the hospital and patients who are just as bored as you every single day. Rest assured at least by the end of your delightful stay you'd still be alive and returning to the world you so pine for."

He watched as Johann's demeanour changed fairly drastically from his bored, arrogant tone to a more subdued, tired air. It was a recognisable gesture, an indicator of defeat. "I tried going without before you know, it didn't work. I know how Merlin-awful I felt then, and I caved. That was months ago. My ... dependence... is a lot more progressed now. I don't want to go back through that."

"Neither do we sincerely want to see you go through that." Arcturus' voice was softer this time, more sympathetic and no hint of the prior annoyance. "Getting rid of your dependence, Mr Storm, is not just something we can magic away for you though. So we do need your cooperation. While we may seem to do miracles with potions and whatnot, in this case ultimately this is your chance to set things right."

He paused, and then added, "You should rest. Maybe if I have the time I might come back to have a chat with you; I'm on the night shift as well for today. I can't guarantee it, but I'll try."

Arcturus headed off to his next patient, making a note on visiting Johann later anyway. After all, why not.

"... Getting rid of your dependence, Mr Storm, is not just something we can magic away for you though. So we do need your cooperation. While we may seem to do miracles with potions and whatnot, in this case ultimately this is your chance to set things right."

Johann nodded grimly, his eyes shifting to the enlarged man he had been protested at a few minutes before. He would bet that man also wished a potion would take his swelling down soon too.

"You should rest. Maybe if I have the time I might come back to have a chat with you; I'm on the night shift as well for today. I can't guarantee it, but I'll try."

Johann's expression perked up at the possibility of some company he was vaguely familiar of being on duty that evening.
"Of course. You have my cooperation." He quoted the healer, but his eyes couldn't help but wander. "I didn't even know the body could get that swollen." Johann muttered, and then gave Hollingbury a sheepish smile in apology, dipping his head and heading back towards his assigned room obediently.

On his way, he lifted an interesting tomb of symptoms and remedies from a shelf for light reading, and spent the afternoon sat cross legged on the bed reading up on all matters (including the reversal of swelling solution which only made him feel more guilty for his earlier staring). He paused when he found notes on sleeping potion, unsure whether he wanted the spoilers of the week ahead, or whether it would add paranoia to the list.

He skipped the page, hands shaking. He sighed and rubbed at his face, sitting back with the book in his lap. A long time ago his mother had suggested he consider being a healer. Certainly he could keep his food down in those situations, but he doubted very much he'd have made anyone feel any better.

Torret's hand holding and back rubbing the previous evening had felt alien, only ever performed to him as a small child by his mother. The last person he'd ever had the fortune of sitting close to in a similar manner was his young cousin from his mother's side in France - Sylvie had grown up quickly and was now sixteen. Despite that, Johann's visit had coincided with a cold, and she had fallen asleep nestled against him while his relations had also entertained Vedir Prideaux.

Remembering Prideaux he winced and hoped that the message to his assistant had been received. Being away from the boxes in the flat which contained incriminating items for both Vedir and Johann was troubling. To have forgotten about it with memory extraction might have helped him sleep, but his worries that the memories could be viewed or interpreted still overruled.

Hollingbury was far more the sort of healer Johann felt inclined to deal with. Letting out a yawn, stifled by a hand, he peered through the half-open door to the ward beyond, watching another healer unlock a cupboard full of potions, remove one and lock it again. If things got very desperate, it would only take a well-timed distraction there to retrieve something to knock him out.

The door opening properly made him jump guiltily and he slammed his hand shut in the 'borrowed' medical dictionary.

The time it took to see to the rest of his duties was much longer than he expected. As the light spells activated while the winter darkness appeared outside, Arcturus finally finished his inspection of the wards and the paperwork involved before heading back to his office. His mind was full of the details from his work today, mulling over cases and still in the process of writing notes for one of the last cases he had to review that day.

His office was a welcome atmosphere, it was his place of refuge and solitude, a place of rest. Arcturus placed the notes he was holding on his desk before sitting down with a sigh of relief. Closing his eyes, he paused his billion thought processes and savoured the sudden quiet in his head resulting from it for a while.

After he was done refreshing himself, he went and made a cup of tea, adding a few drops of Wit-Sharpening Potion to it before enjoying the drink as he resumed reviewing his notes. It was not long before he came across Johann's notes again, along with the little scribble of "Visit later!" on a piece of parchment tacked onto the notes with a Sticking Charm. He removed the paper and stared at the notes, before rising from his chair and going outside to pick up books on Sleeping Potion from one of the shelves.

There was a gap on the shelf where one book was supposed to be. Arcturus raised an eyebrow. It was a good book, too - well, if a healer or nurse had picked it up for reference, there wasn't much he could do about it. He shrugged and took the books he'd picked back to his office, putting them on his desk before finally going to Johann's room.

The door was half-open. Arcturus caught an eye peering out through the doorway as he approached. He made no sound - there was an advantage to wearing trainers - and just opened the door. Johann visibly jumped and the book he was holding thumped down onto his hand.

"Curiosity, Mr Storm?" As much as Arcturus liked to talk to patients, he never really trusted them. It took much more than just being a patient to earn his trust; he might have sympathy but that was just as far as it would go. "And I see you have the book I was looking for. I have to say, you have mighty quick fingers since you got away with it, I can certainly see why you would get away with stealing from the apothecary."

He shut the door behind him. In a less dry tone, he said, "How are you doing, sir? Managed any rest? You seem fairly wide awake enough to be aware of what's happening around you, but I might be wrong; do correct me if so. It must have been an interesting sight out there that caught your attention, because the corridor is as bland as porridge apart from the healers."

Well, he forgot to bring the notes from his office, but that didn't matter for now.

"Curiosity, Mr Storm?"

Johann set the book aside, biting his lip at the thump he'd given his bony right hand by shutting it between the pages. He folded his hands into his lap as gracefully as he could, ignoring the way his hands shook (not helped by leaping out of his skin there).

"And I see you have the book I was looking for. I have to say, you have mighty quick fingers since you got away with it, I can certainly see why you would get away with stealing from the apothecary."

"Only I'd only borrowed this." Johann replied, the corner of his mouth curling as he informed the healer with the badger hair. "Here." He offered the book to the healer, holding it with both hands, but seeing that this was not a momentary visit, set it down on the bed close to where Hollingbury came to be.

"How are you doing, sir? Managed any rest? You seem fairly wide awake enough to be aware of what's happening around you, but I might be wrong; do correct me if so. It must have been an interesting sight out there that caught your attention, because the corridor is as bland as porridge apart from the healers."

Sliding a hand gently across the cover of the reference book, the linguist listened to Hollingbury's questions and observation. Perhaps he hadn't irritated him quite as badly as he had wondered about earlier. Either that or the man's bedside manner deserved more credit than he had previously been inclined to give.

"Regretfully not. I can feel myself getting physically tired, but mentally, well, that is partly why I borrowed the book. No, nothing that interesting out there, you are indeed correct, bland as porridge." He swallowed, and lowered his eyes. lying through his teeth. He wasn't going to make the same mistake as confessing his addiction the previous evening to now confessing he was contemplating a rescue situation of thieving it by force, or not.

"How were your rounds?" He asked brightly, and then almost immediately interrupted himself, thoughts tumbling over, "Oh - I looked up swelling solution." Johann Gestured to the book upon the bed linen, his hand shaking, so he drew it back into his lap where it could rest. Instead of explaining further, he made a face which conveyed that what he had found had not been a pleasant read.

"Didn't look up my own symptoms. Not sure I want spoilers in black and white." His gaze snapped upwards suddenly to the man's hair, his mind having picked out a double meaning to that phrase.
"Text, not your choice of hair colouring."

Despite himself, he covered another lengthy yawn while his brain ticked over the possibilities of the healer's hair being fashion, life experience, spell damage or genetic. Perhaps by the early hours of the morning he would be tucked in bed, too lethargic to get up again, but trapped back within his thoughts, the precise reason he turned to sleeping potion, to shut it all up. It was those moments when his mind would weave intricate reasons for such an appearance that would never make sense when he tried to recall them later, but at the time would be crystal clear.

"Though it is rather intriguing." The German added a little more quietly.

"Regretfully not. I can feel myself getting physically tired, but mentally, well, that is partly why I borrowed the book. No, nothing that interesting out there, you are indeed correct, bland as porridge." Arcturus watched Johann lower his eyes, and then suddenly spring back up to his with "How were your rounds?" Interesting reaction. He'd done it himself before regarding certain situations; it was such a socially defensive mechanism. But he neither said nor indicated anything.

"Oh - I looked up swelling solution." Johann made a face. Arcturus shrugged casually; he knew exactly what that face meant. He'd once made the same face before. "To you? Of course. But I'll prefer it compared to the things I've seen; swelling is a mere scab to those unfortunate to be afflicted with worse."

"Didn't look up my own symptoms. Not sure I want spoilers in black and white. Text, not your choice of hair colouring." At this, the healer smiled a little and made his way to the end of the bed to pick up the copy of the notes sitting in his office, firmly fastened to a clipboard. He picked them up and took out the quill from behind his ear before writing a few observations down. Johann yawned behind the clipboard.

"Though it is rather intriguing."

Arcturus looked up. "What, my hair? Oh, everyone's interested in it." He kept his tone light, as he usually would do when the topic focused on his coiffure. "I'm not surprised you're curious, I get asked about it a lot so I'm fairly used to having to talk about the colour. I still wonder what exactly about it that makes it so strange - this is the magical world, after all, everyone can do anything to their appearance as they please."

He hung the clipboard back onto the end of the bed and tucked the quill behind his ear again. "Makes for good conversation, I have to say."

Hollingbury seemed mildly amused. His company was even mildly entertaining in return. No, make that particularly entertaining, the scale of entertainment in a hospital was limited.

"Reminds me of a badger." Johann explained without hesitation, eyes glinting, despite the dark shadows beneath them and the prominence of his cheekbones. "Suits you." He followed it with, and looked surprised at himself for the second comment, not sure where it had sprung from.

"Is it good conversation down to the fact you find it intriguing and amusing that so many people are preoccupied by the appearance of the hair on your head, or because you enjoying hearing their suppositions on how it came to be?" Johann asked, watching the clipboard be placed back down, complete with notes.

"Let me guess, still awake, still talking and twice as annoying." He nodded to the end of the bed and smirked.

"So go on then," Johann asked cheerily, leaning back and sliding a toe under the upper sheet and blanket so as to fold both his legs beneath it than sit cross-legged as his limbs felt heavier. He leaned back against the pillows, and half closed his eyes for a moment, "What's the worst you've seen here, and I didn't have lunch, so you've no risk of seeing what I ate." He stifled yet another yawn.

"Reminds me of a badger. Suits you." In the face of Johann's surprise, Arcturus blinked at him for a second, and then chuckled softly, amused by his namecalling. "That's one of the more accurate names I've been called, yes. It does make for some variety there, doesn't it? Spice of life and all that."

"Is it good conversation down to the fact you find it intriguing and amusing that so many people are preoccupied by the appearance of the hair on your head, or because you enjoying hearing their suppositions on how it came to be?"

"Aah, both." Arcturus moved over to the side of the bed again.  "The theories that have come up range from the mundane to the fantastical. No one's ever got it right, of course, but I don't really care. It keeps people entertained when they're stuck in a bed." He gestured to Johann. "Like you."

"Let me guess, still awake, still talking and twice as annoying." Arcturus shrugged, still amused. "Your call, Mr Storm, whatever your imagination fancies."

"So go on then, what's the worst you've seen here? And I didn't have lunch, so you've no risk of seeing what I ate."

The healer shook his head. "There's still dinner, and I'd rather you not lose your appetite. Please do eat, Mr Storm, you'll need your strength to help fight your addiction. I know it's hard when you don't have an appetite to begin with, but at least a bit at a time will do." He gave his patient another peaceful, calm smile before going back to the clipboard and adding a sentence to the notes.

"If you wish to regale me with your theories on my hair, you're free to do so. I'm taking a break from work right now." His tone was warm, friendly. Perhaps Johann may never know that Arcturus was just pretending, but he had never had any reason to care if anyone did see through the guise of hospitality.

"There's still dinner, and I'd rather you not lose your appetite. Please do eat, Mr Storm, you'll need your strength to help fight your addiction. I know it's hard when you don't have an appetite to begin with, but at least a bit at a time will do."

The extra notes going down on that clipboard were almost certainly a note about his lack of eating. Johann didn't protest, those noes wouldn't stop him from feeling ill later, that was obvious enough.

"If you wish to regale me with your theories on my hair, you're free to do so. I'm taking a break from work right now."

The linguist raised an eyebrow.
"Talking to me is a 'break from work'?" He asked, sceptical, "I didn't realise I was so entertaining." Sat back against the pillows he folded his arms and then raised his right fingertips to his lips with a slight tremble and studied the healer with interest.

"Fashion, life experience, spell damage or genetic, first four thoughts that sprang to mind yesterday while you examined the bottle of sleeping potion like it held a secret. I've ruled out fashion, if it was, you'd not leave your hair as your only customisation of your professional appearance, even as a healer. There'd be something else. Life experience, well, too soon to read into you, but your poker face is well oiled, and you can't have been a healer too many years, and you work on this floor, not spell damage. I've seen the healers there, they lie without flinching to the patients to keep them quiet."

His eyes glinted as he theorised. He knew it would all be complete nonsense, but, he was bored and humouring this man was entertainment, and a focus for the chattering thoughts in his head.

"Spell damage, well, you're a healer, you'd repair it, or well, not be as mysterious about it and explain the reasons. Unless you really are sad and want to use it as an enigmatic side to your completely boring personality." He paused, narrowed his eyes and shook his head, "No, you're not boring, you wouldn't have looked at the bottle like that if you were boring." He drummed his fingertips on his bottom lip a moment and stared.

"Which left genetic. But your father is in the Office of Improper Use of Magic, I know him."

The corners of Johann's mouth curled.

"Despite all of this, you'll not say, but at least I'm keeping up your hopes of entertainment."

Arcturus listened without interrupting Johann, seemingly as if to enjoy even the mere sound of his voice, with his perpetually vague smile in place. Watching people and listening to their thoughts was fascinating, and the fact that Johann had taken on his challenge without even a smidgen of hesitation meant the entertainment factor was fairly strong.

As Johann elaborated on his theories, there were several details that caught Arcturus' attention. Most of the time, the explanations he received were generic, predictable reasons. This man had made several observations that most people didn't notice. Well, his papers did say Johann was a linguist working in the Ministry; Ministry employees would either have to be very clever or very boring. Arcturus doubted Johann was part of the latter.

"I guess we must have different definitions of 'boring', because in my opinion I'm probably a fairly dull person in the eyes of others." Arcturus waved a hand dismissively. "But what would you know? This will probably be the only time we get to hang out, after all.

"But you're right, I don't really explain unless explicitly asked. I enjoy keeping an amount of...secrecy and mysticism around myself for the sheer fun of it." A bit of a lie there, but Johann wasn't to know. "So you're free to keep guessing instead of me spoiling the game for you, and that's your little game here in the hospital so that you don't get bored. Though I doubt someone as intelligent and sharp as you would stay satisfied for long with a mystery of which its solution you will never know."

He picked up the book and cradled it in his arms as he straightened up. "Seems that night is falling. I should be having a quick dinner before dealing with my paperwork and the night shift ahead. In a moment, your dinner will be brought up by one of the nurses. I trust you to keep your fingers to yourself, Mr Storm, and have some self-control for your sake."

Arcturus made his way to the door, but before he opened it, he looked back at Johann. "I may come back in the middle of the night. But you might as well promise to behave. Otherwise, we might as well take your wand and keep your door magically locked for the rest of the week save for your mealtimes and a few toilet breaks."

"Seems that night is falling. I should be having a quick dinner before dealing with my paperwork and the night shift ahead. In a moment, your dinner will be brought up by one of the nurses. I trust you to keep your fingers to yourself, Mr Storm, and have some self-control for your sake."

Johann folded one hand back down over the other and gave a sigh, his expression darkening with the daylight. He watched the healer open the door again, the book under his arm. He turned back, and added a concluding line before disappearing through the doorway.

"I may come back in the middle of the night. But you might as well promise to behave. Otherwise, we might as well take your wand and keep your door magically locked for the rest of the week save for your mealtimes and a few toilet breaks."

"There was me thinking you were being nice for visiting." The patient uttered sarcastically, and raised his eyes to the ceiling, before giving a little wave to Arcturus as he left.

Merlin this was going to be a dull, dull week, he thought to himself as he saw the door close again, leaving him in peace. The arrival of his dinner, as foretold was nothing much to brighten up his evening either. Beef stew and dumplings, although well prepared, did not tempt his appetite much. But, heeding the healer's words, he raised his spoon and considered it. Johann picked at the stew with an expression that it might be laced with poison, and his hands began to tremble so much he dropped the spoon.

Pushing away the plate, Johann lay back on the pillows softly, and closed his eyes, feeling sluggish, irritable and unsteady. He didn't move when someone came in and rattled away the plates, apart from to crack open an eye to acknowledge their presence. They didn't disturb him and instead the light dimmed to semi darkness.

Johann turned onto his side, his back to the door, and settled beneath the blanket, listening to his mind chatter. It spoke mostly about his work, and about an acute loneliness. His brow began to sweat and he threw back the top of the covers, rolling onto his back. Sleep didn't seem to come, but he could never be sure. Resting his eyes was the nearest he got.

Restless, feverish, the voices continued to build in his mind into a crescendo, deafening him into a circle of irrational thoughts and conspiracies. He was so hot, so thirsty, his throat burned.

"Ah dear, Merlin in Avalon - do you ever shut up?" He exclaimed loudly in English, angry at his head. His hands clapped to his ears in an attempt to shut the voices up in his head. He sat up and forward over his bent knees, the air in the room cooling his damp face, neck and back. He hadn't realised he was drenched in sweat.

Johann's face screwed into a grimace and he shook his head from side to side. They were ranting, discussing how his imprisonment at the hospital was weakness, goading him to try and steal the potion. It was deafening, and it wouldn't be quiet.

...Locked up in here, until they think you're sane again
Insanity is just genius...
Sixty-four squares on a chess board
...They'll never let you go
Forty-nine two by two squares
Best to take out the badger haired one right now
Thirty-six by three by three
...Just call him and break his neck!

Johann let out a half growl, half shout and buried his forehead into the bed at speed, the impact making his head spin, but the voices kept on talking, kept on shouting, kept on whipping up a feverish insanity. Raising his head, knelt on the bed, dripping with sweat, and sobbing, he pleaded with his mind, using his own voice to drown out his head
"Just STOP!"