He was expecting, once Team Flash actually managed to get the drop on him managed to pull him out of his armor and get that power dampening cuff on him, that he'd be sent to Iron Heights or some other facility capable of imprisoning metas.
But, apparently, being a 'temporal duplicate' of one of the more famous heroes in the nation meant you go some sort of special treatment. Instead, he got shot up with insanely high doses of sedatives and antipsychotics and shipped off to some mental health facility he'd never heard of in a town that he'd never heard of that looked like someone had made it a personal mandate to make everything look like it was out of 1964.
He was going to kill all of them. Once he got out of here. Once he got free. But for now...well, for now he was apparently going to sit by this window and wait with a medication pump strapped to his arm and locked on.
One week ago David was doing much better. The next week the Doctor said he’d regressed, and upped his dose of medications. If not for the staff always changing their minds about him and pretty much locking him inside the walls of a mental institution, Clockworks was doing fine by him. He’d plenty of rest here. TV to watch and Ping Pong to play. The hospital provided most of his accommodations. And the meals he ate weren’t so bad either. Best of all it kept him from trouble.
Lunchtime in the rec room and David sees the other patients sitting or finishing the rest of their meals. Most are quiet, some talk to another, and few sing melodies to themselves. Several are familiar faces, people he passes by every single day, but others are new here. Such as the young man near the window and being fed an IV.
An uneasy impression, David won't stare long before he glances away.
When a body literally burns through medication at 5 times the rate of most people, the best course of action is apparently to put the patient on a continuous feed of the highest possible dosage that won't kill that patient. It could be worse, he imagines. He's mostly just groggy, out of it. Fried. He's heard them talk about installing some sort of medication pump.
He really really doesn't want that. He really really doubts it's up to him.
Mostly, people leave him alone. Reputation, he thinks. The man who would come back in time to murder his past self (sort of)'s fiance is hardly someone to trifle with. So he notices when people stare at him, for even a moment.
David generally did alright when viewing people and doing it unnoticed. Most of them didn’t even know he’d caught their image whilst pretending to not look at them. Not this time, though. He was spotted with faster eyes right away and outed directly by the person he’d spied on.
“I, uh, I haven’t seen you here. You get in recently?”
While the drugs keep his mind slow and make him feel just...awful and the dampening bracelets do indeed dampen, he's still got access to some of his powers. The Power of Fast Observation, for instance. Probably some speed, though certainly not anywhere near tops. And he doubts he'd get very far without collapsing.
If he were them, he'd have done something to his back or legs that wouldn't heal easily. He supposes that it's a good thing they're not him. Or like him. At least....he hopes so.
"Yesterday." A brief pause. "I think it was yesterday."
Staff must’ve held him overnight before releasing him into the general populace, he decides, because he’d passed by this exact window and saw no one then. Even more convincing of his guess was the machine setup admitting whatever sedative into him, David had never seen anyone undergoing such a bizarre treatment.
“I won’t say welcome,” his eyes look right, thinking next of what to say, “so, hello.”
Although neither were correct, and introductory small talk was not his strong forte.
There probably haven't been very many people here with as fast metabolisms as Savitar has. But really, with this place who can say? "Hello." A brief pause, and then he'll introduce himself. "They'd tell you my name is Barry. But it's Savitar."
Suspicions aren’t raised when preferences of the latter name are preferred, its always been the circulating bad David has sensed from this guy the moment he saw him. It does not help his innocence either when his agitation and an added facial ailment are generally thought of as negative traits.
Meanwhile, Savitar has no idea what to think of David. He doesn't yet have much to go on, beyond an introduction and the fact that unlike a lot of the people here, David isn't doped up within an inch of his life.
He wasn’t keeping track, yet as every day ran into the next day and most his days were lived as one continuous day, David counted how long he was inside.
“Twenty-four months.”
It’d never felt like more than one year had gone by.
Oh, David. Enjoy the vague expression of horror that briefly passes over Savitar's face. "You're kidding." He has no idea what his 'sentence' here was, but almost two years?
Well. Compared to how long he was trapped in the speedforce, maybe it's not really that long. "I had no idea they could keep people here that long."
David doesn’t. In fact, he dislikes the added look of dread. It only adds to his own stale fear.
“Oh Doctors have kept people here their entire lives. There’s one guy, he’s, I think he’s sixty four now, arrived at twenty and only three times since has seen outside the gate walls."
Dread turns to outright horror. And he thought the speedforce was bad enough. At least you could get used to living through your own personal hell. "I can't be here that long..."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
DOES THIS WORK?
But, apparently, being a 'temporal duplicate' of one of the more famous heroes in the nation meant you go some sort of special treatment. Instead, he got shot up with insanely high doses of sedatives and antipsychotics and shipped off to some mental health facility he'd never heard of in a town that he'd never heard of that looked like someone had made it a personal mandate to make everything look like it was out of 1964.
He was going to kill all of them. Once he got out of here. Once he got free. But for now...well, for now he was apparently going to sit by this window and wait with a medication pump strapped to his arm and locked on.
YES!
Lunchtime in the rec room and David sees the other patients sitting or finishing the rest of their meals. Most are quiet, some talk to another, and few sing melodies to themselves. Several are familiar faces, people he passes by every single day, but others are new here. Such as the young man near the window and being fed an IV.
An uneasy impression, David won't stare long before he glances away.
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He really really doesn't want that. He really really doubts it's up to him.
Mostly, people leave him alone. Reputation, he thinks. The man who would come back in time to murder his past self (sort of)'s fiance is hardly someone to trifle with. So he notices when people stare at him, for even a moment.
"What."
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David generally did alright when viewing people and doing it unnoticed. Most of them didn’t even know he’d caught their image whilst pretending to not look at them. Not this time, though. He was spotted with faster eyes right away and outed directly by the person he’d spied on.
“I, uh, I haven’t seen you here. You get in recently?”
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If he were them, he'd have done something to his back or legs that wouldn't heal easily. He supposes that it's a good thing they're not him. Or like him. At least....he hopes so.
"Yesterday." A brief pause. "I think it was yesterday."
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“I won’t say welcome,” his eyes look right, thinking next of what to say, “so, hello.”
Although neither were correct, and introductory small talk was not his strong forte.
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“David.”
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"How long have you been here, David?"
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“Twenty-four months.”
It’d never felt like more than one year had gone by.
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Well. Compared to how long he was trapped in the speedforce, maybe it's not really that long. "I had no idea they could keep people here that long."
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“Oh Doctors have kept people here their entire lives. There’s one guy, he’s, I think he’s sixty four now, arrived at twenty and only three times since has seen outside the gate walls."
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