Dead Set. || PURPLEPHONE

The Psychologist In Tights.

Scott frowned at Linda across the coffee table, his favourite blanket wrapped around his torso and a cup of fresh hot chocolate in his hands, "So?"

"So..." Linda chewed on her lip. Scott had never seen her more nervous in her entire life, "Look, Scott, I don't want to do this-"

"Then don't," Scott huffed, taking a gulp out of his warm drink. Yeah, so what if he was still sulking? He had every right to sulk. 

"Oh, grow up, Scott. I'm actually trying to help you, here," Linda glared at him for a second before relaxing, taking a deep breath. "No. Getting angry at you isn't going to make this any easier. We have to keep a level head." 

"Level head about what? Can't you just tell me?" Scott put down his drink, looking Linda in the eyes, "There must be something wrong, or you wouldn't have pulled me out of bed for it. Don't get this far and then give up."

Linda leaned back in her chair, sighing, "It's about Vincent, Scott." 

Scott froze, eyes widening as something terrible seeped into his bones, a cold kind of dread that seemed to settle in the deepest parts of his being, "What do you mean?" he whispered. "What is it?"

"It's..." Linda shot him a reassuring smile, "It's nothing... I'm sure you can't handle. Otherwise I would have told you earlier. I-I'm not even certain. It's just a... a niggling feeling. I started researching, I've been up without sleeping nights in a row trying to figure it out... and..." She trailed off. 

"And...?" Scott prompted, the ominous feeling in his stomach quickly turning to nausea. "And what, Linda? You wouldn't spend nights researching if it wasn't bad." 

Linda's face filled with sympathy, she frowned, fiddling with her fingers, "Scott... I think Vincent's... psychopathic." 

"Psy-" Scott choked over his words, shaking his head, "Psychopathic? You think Vincent's a psychopath?" He let out a nervous laugh, "Don't be ridiculous, Lindie. Vincent would have told me if... if..." 

"He wouldn't know, Scott," Linda's voice had changed into a soothing tone. A practised psychologist's voice. "Psychopaths don't recognise the difference between them and other people. That's how you tell the real ones from the fakes. The fakes'll brag about it. The real ones have no idea." 

"No," Scott whispered, shaking his head again, his voice raising with every word, "No, no, no. I don't believe you. You said it was just a feeling, right? You can't prove it, right? Tell me you can't prove it!" 

Linda bit her lip again, "Look, all I can go off is a checklist. Made by the guy who discovered the illness. O-Okay, so maybe, it's not always correct, and maybe psychopaths can show completely different symptoms, but most of the time, Scott, it is..." 

"So..." Scott frowned, putting his head in his hands, "So you can't be certain?"

"I can't be certain," Linda agreed. "You could go and get him checked professionally if you wanted to, but... I just... wanted to let you know that... it's a high possibility. I want you to be careful, Scott. I don't want you to get hurt." 

"But..." Scott whimpered, leaning back on the couch, his shoulders hunched, "But... that... that doesn't mean he... he doesn't love me, right?" Scott looked at Linda pleadingly, "Even... Even if he was a... we could still work it out, right?"

Linda smiled, "Sure. Sure you could. Not all psychopaths have to be deranged serial killers. They can be..." Her smile faded, "Well, I wouldn't use the word 'nice', but... They can be... they can..." 

Scott nodded, getting the gist. He groaned in frustration and confusion, grabbing his hair. Gawd, why did everything have to be so confusing? He thought his relationship problems would be over. He was finally settled, content, deeply in love - and now it turned out there was a high chance Vincent was a murd-

Something struck Scott suddenly, something that brought the taste of bile to the back of his throat.

"Well," he croaked, suddenly standing up, "Thanks for letting me know, Linda. Now, I really have to go to sleep."

"Scott..." Linda stood up as well, concern etched into her face, "You need to sit down for a bit. You're pale as a ghost."

"No," Scott insisted, pushing her away. He closed his eyes, "I just need to sleep on this, Linda. It's a huge thing to just dump on me, okay? I have work in the morning. I need to sleep."

Linda nodded slowly, "Okay, Scott..." She watched him carefully, but didn't seem to dare take a step closer, "Be careful." 

"I will," Scott turned away from Linda and walked out of the room, his mind doing cartwheels in his head. He wasn't sure whether or not he believed Linda. She wouldn't have told him unless she really was worried: she'd already have expected the reaction he had. But at the same time... someone like Vincent? Sweet, charming, loving... Vincent? 

Stop stressing about it, Scott, he berated himself, walking back up the stairs towards their room. You know him way better than Linda does. He doesn't seem like a psychopath. And yet... and yet. . .

Scott found himself at their bedroom door without really even being conscious of walking there. He sighed. He was tired, and now wasn't the time to be thinking over something so stressful.

He opened the door and walked in, with no particular care in being quiet. He knew Vincent would wake up anyway.

"Hey," Vincent's sleepy voice mumbled from the bed sheets, "What did Linda want?"

"Oh, she had this stupid idea that-" Scott cut himself off abruptly, frowning again. He looked down at his feet and mumbled, "Nothing. She-She was just worried about me. Again." 

"Mmmkay," Vincent rolled over, obviously not paying much attention to what Scott was saying, "C'mon, I wanna go to sleep... we've got work tomorrow... early shift..." He muttered, lazily patting the bed sheets beside him.

Scott closed and locked their door out of habit, (although, as he'd learned over the course of the night, the lock was extremely useless) and dragged himself over to the bed. He slipped into the sheets, still feeling conflicted.

Vincent finally made a sound, "Mmgh, Scott, cuddle...?" He reached out, trying to pull Scott into a cuddle. Usually, Scott would leap at the chance. Man, he loved snuggling up to Vincent.

But snuggling up to a psychopath? Much less appealing.