He had listened to “Patient Four” go through the song and dance of appearing to be shocked over having been kidnapped.  He stayed on the floor and listened, not bothering to accept the hand that his roommate had offered him.<br/><br/><em> If he WAS kidnapped and he’s NOT crazy...well...he seems like the fighty-type.  Fighting it, verbally or physically will only make them think he’s crazy...and then he’s fucked.  If he WASN’T kidnapped and he IS crazy...well...he’s fucked. </em><br/><br/>He frowned a moment as the door opened once more.<br/><br/><em> Another roommate...seriously? </em><br/><br/>His thoughts derailed as he heard the not-so-subtle- threat against his physical well-being.  He stayed seated on the floor and simply scooched across the floor to “his side” of the room.  He let out a deep breath and looked around the room.  David had definitely been in worse places.  They actually had things present that you could use as weapons and in time, maybe even hang himself with the blankets they had left if he took the time.<br/><br/>He tried that...the whole suicide thing.  It had been fifteen years ago;<br/><br/><em> Five thousand, five hundred –sixty-six days. </em><br/><br/>The day after his birthday.  It was the last time he had anyone visit him.  It was his sister and when she told him that she wasn’t going to be able to come visit anymore, neither she nor David seemed sad.  Infact, they were both pretty relieved.  David had given up trying to make his family understand.  They thought he was David.  He wasn’t.  He felt bad for them because it seemed like this “David” they came to visit had been an alright guy.  He never really understood what happened to the mind or soul of the body that you “rode” but he knew that when he entered David...that was it.  David was gone.<br/><br/>Apparently it was unusual for a family to write off a family member so quick but he had still been young at the time and more...invested in the mission at the time.  There would be no dissuading him from what he was sent from the future to do.  When David’s mother had drank herself to death the previous year, the rest of the family was all too eager to move on with their lives.<br/><br/>He had been frustrated and was feeling hopeless.  He wasn’t afraid to die.  He was afraid to fail and if he stayed locked up...he’d fail.  Turns out it’s tougher to strangle yourself with a blanket than you might think, but it certainly didn’t stop them from treating him like he was suicidal.  It had been a blur after that...sedation...bindings....more sedation.<br/><br/>But he had learned.<br/><br/><strong> “When you try to kill yourself...know what you’re doing.” </strong>, he muttered to himself as he stood and took in the contents of the room.<br/><br/>In fact...that lesson could be applied to pretty much anything anyone wanted to do while locked up in a place like this and he hadn’t been in a place like this one in a long time.  The last place was more like a prison...which was good in some ways...it had a routine and he liked routine.  His room was an interesting one.  Like a cube with rounded edges made of some kind of bright orange plastic.  The plastic was thick and pretty much sound proof.  The bed, sink, toilet, crude stool and crude table were all part of the bright orange plastic “cube”, the entire room one big piece of plastic, the “furnishings” if you could call them that appearing like they had been pulled out of the plastic walls and floors by a large hand.  When it came time to clean, they would simply hose down the entire room and let the water run out the drain in the center of the room.  Efficient, if a bit soulless.<br/><br/>David liked it.<br/><br/>They never made threats there.  Simply being there was threat enough.  If they were going to be that efficient with living accommodations...how efficient would they be with reinforcing their rules?  How efficient would they be with their punishment.<br/>This place had plenty of soul.  Whoever ran this placed...loved this place in some kind of fucked up, misplaced way.  In order to make up for the lack efficiency, they needed guards to walk around making threats.  He was long past the time where he felt the need to battle against every threat...to show that he was also a threat.  He knew how that battle went and he knew who won it.<br/><br/>He was content to bide his time, watch...and wait.<br/>