Jack had wondered why Dr. Schaeffer had wanted them to leave so early in the morning, and, as he soon found out, it was because he apparently had a very busy schedule. He had spent most of the car ride in silence, but he broke it when they pulled up in front of the courthouse.

"What're we doing here?" He looked at the doctor in alarm. "I didn't do nothing illegal."

Dr. Schaeffer gave him a kind smile that did nothing to reassure him (Jack had known for a long time that smiles from people he didn't trust meant nothing). "Of course not. Judge Brown is simply required to see all potential Blackwell patients before they're admitted, and ask them a few questions to make sure they are actually in need of treatment."

"He can't just take your word for it?"

"I'm afraid not. Come on, we don't want to keep him waiting."

So, Jack and the doctor got out of the car, and soon found themselves sitting on a bench outside of the courtroom. As it turned out, the judge wouldn't be waiting on them, they were waiting on the judge. After a half hour, the doors opened and the room emptied out, and Jack and Dr. Schaeffer were finally able to go inside.

Once they got inside, Jack stood there, not really paying attention as Dr. Schaeffer and Judge Brown exchanged pleasantries, and the doctor told him all the details of Jack's situation. He was pulled into the conversation by the judge addressing him.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kelly."

"What - oh, uh yeah. You too, your honor."

Judge Brown frowned at his distant tone, and Jack mentally kicked himself. He didn't need to make anyone thing there was more wrong with him than there was. He couldn't help but feel like he was on trial, even though he knew that wasn't the case. No matter what he said, they couldn't exactly do worse than send him to Blackwell.

"I'm just going to ask you a few questions, all right?" Jack nodded. "What's your full name?"

"Jack Kelly."

"No middle name?"

"If I have one, I don't know what it is." Jack shrugged, before thinking of something else. "Because my parents never told me, I mean." He didn't want to give the impression that he couldn't remember his middle name.

The judge simply nodded. "And what war did you serve in?"

"The most recent one... The Great War, I think they're calling it now."

"Can you tell me about some of the things you saw that are causing you do have these mental problems?"

Jack stiffened. He didn't think the questions would be like this. "Why, uh, why do you wanna know that?"

"I have to be certain that you're not just pretending to have these episodes. That you have actually experienced the traumatic events you claim to."

"Go on, Jack. It's okay." Dr. Schaeffer put a hand on Jack's shoulder, and he pulled away roughly.

"I... I don't really wanna talk about it."

"Mr. Kelly, you have to. I need to make sure you're telling the truth."

"I'm telling the truth, and I don't wanna talk about it!" Jack was beginning to feel panicked, an all too familiar feeling.

"All right, then how about I list some things that other victims of shell shock have claimed to relive, and you can tell me if this applies to you?"

"That's not - "

"The sounds of gunshots? Watching your fellow soldiers getting injured or killed? The screams of people around you? The smell of blood, or rotting bodies? Any of that?"

As Judge Brown listed these things, Jack's head began to spin, not being able to keep the words out of his head, or the images that went along with them. For a split second he felt like he was falling, and it turned out he had been, because a moment later he found himself on his knees on the floor. He bit back the feeling of nausea the was threatening to overtake him, and stayed on the floor with his eyes closed until the images stopped and the feeling of dizziness subsided.

He glared up at the judge. "Was that enough proof for you?"

oOo

The Judge let them go shortly after that, most likely because he didn't want to deal with Jack any longer, and they were soon en route to the ferry that would take them to Blackwell Island. Jack had once again fallen silent, and there was an added level of tension between the two men ever since the incident in the courtroom. He had a suspicion that the doctor had never really understood what shell shock could do to someone before.

Once they had reached the wharf, Dr. Schaeffer turned towards Jack. "This is as far as I can go with you."

Jack gave him a confused look. "Why?" This doctor was the only person he trusted even slightly, and he wasn't too keen on getting on a boat full of strangers.

"I need to get back to my office, and the police are perfectly capable of taking care of you the rest of the way."

"Don't suppose there's any chance of convincing you otherwise?" Jack asked in a strained voice.

Dr. Schaeffer shook his head. "I have an appointment."

Jack heaved a sigh and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

He hesitantly got out of the car and headed towards the ferry.  The man who was standing in front of the entrance stopped him.

"Name?"

"Jack Kelly. I'm going to the uh, the insane asylum."

The man nodded and let him on board, obviously having expected him. As soon as he stepped in, he was overwhelmed by a strong smell of sickness that reminded him of so many things. The tenement house he grew up in, the Refuge, and the hospital he'd spent the last few months before coming home in.

He looked around to see several people lying on cots on one side of the room, and resolved to sit in a corner on the opposite side. The last thing he needed was to get sick physically as well as mentally.

He stared at the wall across from him, thinking about both everything and nothing. He watched as all the other patients were helped off at different stops, until he was the last one on board. When they told him they had reached Blackwell, he numbly stood up and got off, trying to fight the feeling off anxiety that was quickly growing inside his stomach.

oOo

"Mr. Kelly, welcome." A stern woman greeted him at the door, not bothering to tell him her name. "I'll show you to your room, and then I'll have you remove your clothing and then we'll take you to have a bath and give you a change of clothes. I'm afraid you won't get your current ones back, they could be contaminated."

Jack didn't say anything, taking in everything she was saying. True to her word, he took him to a small room in a hallway full of rooms just like it. When they walked in his eyes flitted to the second bed that he hadn't been expecting to see, and the woman nodded.

"There will be someone else sharing this room with you, he's expected to arrive tonight. I'll step outside while you remove your clothes and wrap yourself in the towel on the bed."

She stepped out and Jack slowly stripped off his clothes and picked up the towel, finding it to be rough and thin. He wrapped it around his torso anyway, and followed the woman out.

They reached a small metal tub that was already filled with water. The woman handed him a bar of soap and thankfully left the room. He stepped in and drew a sharp breath as he felt the freezing temperature of the water. Clearly they weren't too concerned with the comfort of their patients here.

He cleaned himself as quickly as possible, shivering as he wrapped the towel back around him. With no sign of the woman coming back, he made as way back to his room to find an extra set of clothes on one of the beds with a note telling him that dinner would be at 6:00.

He looked at the clothes to find only a thin white t-shirt and pants. He grimaced. He was freezing and had been hoping for something slightly warmer. Still, it was better than nothing, so he put them on and sat down on the bed as it finally hit him.

He was in an insane asylum. And based on what he'd seen so far, it wasn't as great as Dr. Schaeffer had made it out to be. And he realized that he was alone here. And that scared him more than anything else.