Jane’s medication fueled her giddiness and muddled her mind; due to this, she unfortunately failed to realize that Dr. Habner’s inquiry was not directed towards her.<br/><br/>Jane suddenly stopped her blithe chattering and inhaled sharply. Her blood-shot eyes grew into wide, glassy saucers, like twin plates of dirty china riddled with red cracks. She did not want to go to the infirmary. She remembered her first trip there, when she was brought to the Asylum. They had taken her to the infirmary for initial testing. It was all relatively standard procedure, the nurses assured her, yet she knew there was nothing standard about the depravity she had suffered there. The scars on her thighs bore witness to the horrors she had undergone in the name of medical science. That was when she had still been Patient 600-202020-6, before Dr. Ignatius had given her a name.<br/><br/>It was not a mere name that he had gifted her with; it was an identity. Her name was the one solid thing that she could hold onto in a world of intangibilities, the swirling world within her mind. "Jane Doe"...it was the sweetest name she could imagine. It made her feel like a soft, innocent deer frolicking through the woods.<br/><br/>“Deer don’t frolic in infirmaries…” she whispered as fear gripped her heart. Her pulse raced; her breathing came in shallow gulps, as though a ton of concrete blocks were weighing down upon her chest, crushing her feeble attempts at respiration.<br/><br/>With a frail whimper, Jane burst into tears. The cold, wet feeling was like twin rivers of liquid shame running down her red cheeks. She had managed to refrain from crying since the incident in the infirmary, but the thought of being forced to return to the site of her suffering was too much for her to bear. She was ashamed of herself for crying and for what had happened to her behind that heavy iron door.<br/><br/>Somewhere deep within her psyche, a series of synapses reached their breaking point and snapped, recklessly firing neurons down the wrong paths. Her body began to shake and shudder spasmodically. Her eyes, nose, and lips twitched with no apparent pattern. These random spasms grew in intensity until she was practically having a grand mal seizure while still standing, then she suddenly stopped and her gaze locked on Greta and her fallen patient.<br/><br/>Anger overcame Jane. It melted the icy hand that encased her heart and raced through her veins, burning away the sedatives that were forced on her every morning.<br/><br/>Ignatius observed this from the corner of the room and whispered to himself “Blut ist dicker als Wasser …but it is much more scalding when finally it reaches a boil.”<br/><br/>Snarls and sobs combined to transform Jane into a gibbering wreck. With a guttural squeak (her vocal cords were too short and her stature too feminine and petite to achieve a full-fledged roar worthy of the name), she threw herself at Dr. Habner, knocking her down. Jane wound up sprawled across Anne on the floor, sniffling and shaking her head violently while shouting “I won’t go back! I won’t! I will not go back there. You cannot take me away from my forest, damnit. I’m free to frolic, and I won’t let you take that away from me!”<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><br/>(Ignatius has a habit of slipping into other languages at times. "Blut ist dicker als Wasser" is the original German form of "blood is thicker than water".)</span>