Free Web NovelChapter 63: Dissociation
The private hospital wing was quiet at this late hour, its sterile white corridors lit by soft, recessed lighting. Silas’s car pulled up directly at the private entrance reserved for VIP patients. Two nurses and Dr. Marcus were already waiting outside with a gurney, their faces serious under the overhead lights.
Silas stepped out first, the cool night air brushing against his skin. Without hesitation, he reached into the backseat and lifted Sylvain’s limp, trembling body into his arms.
Sylvain was still muttering incoherently, his face pressed weakly against Silas’s chest, breath shallow and ragged. "Devil... leave me... Leon... don’t kill him... please... I have to save him..."
Dr. Marcus, one of Silas’s few trusted friends and a renowned private physician, moved forward immediately, his expression grave but professional.
"Bring him inside, Silas. Room 4 is fully prepared. We have the best equipment ready."
Silas carried Sylvain through the automatic doors without a word. The nurses followed closely behind, one of them already preparing an IV line on the move, her hands quick and efficient.
Once inside the private room — spacious, and equipped with every modern medical luxury. Silas laid Sylvain gently on the hospital bed. The moment his back touched the mattress, Sylvain’s eyes fluttered open briefly. Wide with raw fear, he looked around the unfamiliar white space, his body tensing like a cornered animal.
"No... no hospital..." Sylvain rasped, voice hoarse and broken. "They’ll kill Leon here... the devil brought me... let me go... I need to find the file... please..."
One of the nurses tried to attach the IV to his arm, but Sylvain jerked away weakly, his movements sluggish but frantic. "Don’t touch me! You work for him! You’ll hurt my brother! All of you... you’re monsters... just like him..."
Silas placed a firm but controlled hand on Sylvain’s shoulder, holding him down against the bed. "Stop fighting. They’re helping you. This is not the time for your hysterics."
Sylvain shook his head frantically, fresh tears streaming down his pale cheeks. "Helping? You never help anyone! You only take! You take everything from me... my body... my freedom... my brother... Let me die... let me die so Leon can live... please... I can’t do this anymore..."
Dr. Marcus stepped in smoothly, preparing a sedative injection. "Sylvain, listen to me. I need you to breathe slowly. This injection will help you rest. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you right now. You’re severely exhausted and dehydrated. Your body needs this."
Sylvain’s eyes locked onto the needle, pure terror flashing across his gaunt face. "No needles! No more pain! Silas will use it against me... he always does... he’ll make me regret it... Leon... I’m sorry... I failed you again... I looked everywhere... the house... nothing... I couldn’t find it..."
Silas gripped Sylvain’s hand tightly, his fingers wrapping around the trembling ones. "Enough. Let them do their job, Sylvain. Stop making this harder than it has to be."
Sylvain’s struggles grew weaker as Dr. Marcus injected the sedative into his arm with practiced efficiency. "This will take effect quickly. He’s severely dehydrated, malnourished, and in acute psychological distress. We’ll monitor him closely through the night."
Sylvain’s voice faded into broken, desperate whispers. "Leon... hold on... big brother is coming... don’t die... please don’t die because of me... I tried... I really tried..."
His eyelids grew heavy. Within minutes, his body went completely limp on the bed, chest rising and falling in shallow, exhausted breaths. The room fell into a heavy, almost suffocating silence, broken only by the steady beep of the heart monitor.
Dr. Marcus gestured for the nurses to finish setting up the IV drip and vital monitors, then turned to Silas with a serious expression.
"He’s stable for now, Silas, but this is bad. Really bad. Mentally, he’s on the verge of a complete breakdown. Severe trauma, massive guilt complex, possible PTSD, and clear signs of dissociation. The sedation will keep him under for the next several hours, maybe longer if we need it. But recovery won’t be quick. It could take weeks, maybe even months, for him to return to anything resembling his normal self. You need to be gentle with him. His mind is extremely fragile right now."
Silas stood beside the bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring down at Sylvain’s pale, sleeping face. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw was clenched.
"Define ’take it easy,’ Marcus. Be specific. I don’t have time for vague medical advice."
Dr. Marcus sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead as he adjusted his glasses. "I mean exactly that, Silas. No sexual activities for the foreseeable future. No emotional manipulation. He’s blaming himself entirely for what happened to his brother. Every time he wakes up, there’s a high chance he’ll spiral again into panic or dissociation. You have to give him space to heal, or you’ll lose him completely — mentally, if not physically. He’s already showing signs of severe exhaustion and possible hallucinations."
Silas’s jaw tightened further. "I don’t lose what belongs to me, Marcus. Tell me what he needs. Don’t sugarcoat it."
"He needs complete rest, aggressive nutrition, and absolute stability," the doctor replied firmly, his tone professional but laced with concern. "We’ll start with fluids, electrolytes, and vitamins through the IV immediately. When he wakes, small, frequent meals — nothing heavy at first. And most importantly — you need to decide how honest you want to be with him about his brother. Lies might break him faster than the truth at this point."
Silas glanced at the heart monitor, which was beeping steadily. His voice was quieter now. "He begged me to save Leon."
Dr. Marcus raised an eyebrow, studying his friend carefully. "And now he’s here like this. Coincidence? Or the result of months of breaking him down?"
Silas didn’t answer immediately. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Sylvain’s forehead — a rare, almost tender gesture that seemed out of character. His fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary.
"I need him functional," Silas said quietly, almost to himself. "He’s useless to me like this. How long until he can stand on his own two feet again? Give me a realistic timeline."
"Realistically?" Marcus crossed his arms, his expression grave. "Weeks at the minimum. Maybe longer if the trauma with his brother deepens or if we discover more underlying issues. You can’t rush psychological recovery, Silas. This isn’t a business deal you can negotiate or a contract you can enforce. He’s a human being who’s been pushed far past his limits. If you keep treating him like property, you’ll lose the man entirely. Even if his body survives, his mind might not come back the same."
Silas let out a low, frustrated breath, his eyes never leaving Sylvain’s sleeping face. "Then keep him here until he’s stable enough to come home. Sedate him if he wakes up screaming again. I’ll cover all costs. Spare no expense. Bring in any specialists you need."
Dr. Marcus studied him for a long moment, the silence stretching between them. "You care about him. More than you’re willing to admit, even to yourself." freeweɓnovel.cѳm
Silas’s eyes flashed with a dangerous warning. "Don’t push it, Marcus. Just do your job. I’m not here for therapy sessions."
The doctor raised his hands in surrender, though his expression remained concerned. "Fine. But as your friend and his doctor, I’m telling you straight — if you keep treating him like a possession instead of a person, you’ll lose him. Even if his body survives this, his mind might not. He needs patience. He needs to feel safe. And right now, he sees you as the source of all his pain."
Silas stared at Sylvain’s sleeping face for a long time. "Keep me updated every few hours," Silas finally said, voice low. "I want to know the moment he wakes up. No matter what time it is."
He turned and walked toward the door, pausing at the threshold for a brief second.
"And Marcus... make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. I still have use for him."
With that, Silas left the room, the door closing softly behind him with a quiet click.
Dr. Marcus looked down at his unconscious patient and sighed deeply, shaking his head.
"What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Sylvain," he murmured. "And what a complicated devil you have watching over you. I hope you survive this... for both your sakes."
The heart monitor continued its steady rhythm in the quiet room, the only sound left as the night stretched on.
