Obsession.

A CorruptedHeart Production.

Dr. Oliver Thredson/OC

Name: Obsession.

Fandom: American Horror Story (AHS)

Ship: Dr. Oliver Thredson/OC.

Rated: M.

Summary: Admitted into Briarcliff due to a growing fascination with the one they call Bloody Face; the experience would only bring her closer to Bloody Face than what she would imagine. R&R.

I do not own American Horror Story. If I did, Tate would have got Violet in the end of season one, and Oliver & Johnny wouldn't have died.

Chapter one: Jackets & Cigarettes.

She wasn't quite sure as to how her life had spiraled to this point. Whatever she had done, must have been bad; right? Otherwise she wouldn't be in this state, nor in this place or in this damn jacket for crying out loud. Her arms were bound around herself as if she were giving herself a well and truly deserved hug. The thought almost brought a smile to her face, but if she dared show emotion, no doubt they would classify her as truly insane as they already were stating. Her, insane? If they thought that, then they were the crazy ones, not her!

She was only 23 for Christ sake, she had her mind all set about her. She had a life planned out, and goals to achieve. They would have to be put on hold, however. Until she could somehow convince these people she was not, and had never been; a lunatic. So she had a fascination with the new serial killer roaming the streets, what was the harm in that? She wasn't a police officer, nor was she a reporter on the case. She was just a curious civilian wanting to know about the ongoing crimes that were being committed in Boston, Massachusetts. Bloody Face had a reputation, and a large one at that. But she took a different approach towards this as the other woman did. She did not shrivel in fear at the thought he could be anyone; she did not worry about her life or the very skin on her back. This serial killer was a wonder, and she just wanted to know more. A healthy fascination. Everyone had one. Be it baseball, or chess, or writing! Carolyn was just interested in this murderer.

The male before her stood speaking to her beloved boyfriend; chatting about her tendency to stay up late, racking through the newspapers, clipping the ones of Bloody face and keeping them. Or making sure that she never missed a news report on the television about this killer. What made it apparent that they did not even take notice to the fact she was there, was when Carlos began to speak about their bedroom behaviors. Was he really speaking too a man of the Lord about sex? And she was the insane one?! Pha!

So she moaned out Bloody Face once or twice... Three times tops. There was no insanity in that, was there? She found the thought of love making with a psychopathic serial killer kinda... thrilling. Carlos should feel privileged, anyhow. Those were the only time she had ever reached her limit, and was taken over the edge while sleeping with him. As lovely as a man he was, he just didn't... Do it for her. She loved him, of course. But love and sex were two different things.

Carolyn let out a soft sigh of irritation, her shoulder slouching with the dirty white jacket around her torso. Why she was in this was beyond her. Because she was a danger to herself and others? She was 5'4 in height, and barely weighed anything! As if she posed a threat to any of these men in this room with her. Carlos, maybe. He had been the one she was thrashing against in the first place, after all. But would you come willingly into a hell hole? Carolyn would put everything she owned on betting you wouldn't either.

The monsignor was speaking, calmly and addressing what they could do if she was in their care. In their care? Did she look like a child? That question was probably better left not answered; for right now she felt like one. Being spoken about as if she wasn't there, sitting down on a bed with her legs crossed, a restraint jacket pulled on tightly, and the fact her hair was tied back into a firm ponytail. She had not had a pony tail in since the second grade, due to it ending badly and resulting in her having any hair left. Children could be so cruel, couldn't they? But in this moment in time, Carolyn was focused on just how cruel Carlos was being. He was agreeing, and thanking this man. He was taking his hand, and actually shaking it. Repeatedly thanking him for this opportunity in 'fixing' her. The monsignor moved from the room, allowing Carolyn and her beloved a moment alone. He stared down at her with large green eyes, his shaggy light brown hair styled to perfection having only had it done two days prior.

Carlos moved closer, and crouched down before his chosen partner. There, he kept his eyes connected with hers. Gently, his hand rested onto the curve of her knee, his thumb brushing her skin in the most tentative way he could.

"Lyn," he whispered, his voice soft and loving.

She blinked in response.

"Lyn, I know you probably can't talk right now, baby; but this is for the best. You'll be back to the way you were when we met, remember? In highschool?"

She blinked again. It wasn't that she couldn't talk. She didn't want too.

Carlos continued.

"You were so amazing back then... So full of life, great ambitions. I was surprised you even agreed to that date with me after the many times I stuttered. But you kept on agreeing to every date..." His eyes lowered, his hand clasping onto her knee tighter. His free hand moved up where he wiped his eyes quickly, and sniffed before any liquid could drip. "I just want my darling back..."

By now, Carolyn was lost within a daze of his words. He truly felt she was ill? That there was something wrong with her? She hadn't gone anywhere. She was right here! She just... Liked the thrill of a serial killer. It was the exact same like him! Being obsessed with working, trying to get them both a better life. Shouldn't he be in a restraint jacket also if that was the prime reason for insanity? Obsession?

"I love you." He whispered, his eyes finally moving back up to hers. He leant up from his crouch and pressed a longing, sorrow filled kiss onto her forehead. "I'll come visit soon."

And with that, she watched as her world exited the room, putting on his hat as he left. Sure, he looked back but it wasn't enough for him to see his sense and take her home. Moments passed by until she wasn't alone anymore. The sound of a woman was outside, speaking to yet another woman. Oh joy, the nun's are here.

—xXx—

The next few hours were all a blur. She was moved around slowly, spoken too in a strict voice. She said nothing, however. She decided silence was her best option as of now. She had been removed from her 'hug-me-jacket' at some point, and her arms were freely moving at her side. Mostly they played with the linon blue fabric that was now her clothes. Sister Judy (she think that's what her name was?) had finished showing her around. Said something about seeing her new room when she was to go there, and then finally brought her to a set of large open doors. She pushed them open effortlessly, and she was met with the most irritating, mind melting song she had ever heard in her life.

She did her best to drown it out, and focus on the scene before her. The room was full of people. People dancing around to this god awful sound, others banging their heads off the wall. There was even a male sitting on the floor with his hand down his pants, viciously tugging at himself. She cringed and looked away, fearful that he may end up pulling it off at the rate he was going.

"This is the day room, where you will spend most of your time."

She caught the nun speaking, but was barely listening; for her eyes were locked upon the phonograph in the far corner; the device playing this god awful song. The nun must have caught on with what she was looking at, for a hand rested onto her shoulder; breaking her focus.

"I wouldn't try anything with that, missy." It was words of warning, and the threat continued; but she was zoned out at this point. It became apparent they had given her something, probably just to calm her down, but she didn't really care. Her being able to zone out meant she could focus on anything else but this... music.

She watched as the nun left her, standing in the middle of this room, with all these insane people. Carolyn looked from her left, to her right and then gracefully moved across to take a seat in a corner where she hoped she would not be disturbed. Sadly, however, her silence was broken.

A young, short haired thing came and rested beside her. In her lips propped a cigarette, offering her the scent of home. The sweet smelling smoke was a beacon to her, pulling her out of the trance and reminding her of her darling Carlos.

"Hey," the woman smiled. She had an accent, Carolyn noticed. "I'm Grace."

Carolyn's eyes focused on the cigarette in her mouth. Grace took it from her lips, and held it out. Perhaps a sign of hospitality? A peace offering? Carolyn took it nonetheless, offering a somewhat sympathetic smile. "A lot of new faces in here now, I tell you that."

Carolyn continued to inhale the toxin's of the smoke.

"If you'd have been here earlier, you'd have seen a brawl between Bloody Face an' Sp-"

Carolyn's head snapped up in that instance. Did she just say what she thought?

Carolyn spoke for the first time in hours. Her voice coming out stern, but melody like.

"Bloody Face is here?"

One of Grace's eyebrows arched as she rested back into the chair. "Yeah, just brought in a few hours before you..."

A twisting feeling happened within her stomach.

"No need to be scared, though. He's persistent he didn't do it."

Carolyn wasn't scared! She was thrilled, delighted, amazed! Carlos was right! It was the best thing to bring her here, for now she could meet the very man who had been plaguing her mind for the last month or two, and she would finally be able to get over this obsession, and move on. Go back to Carlos as if this never happened! A bright smile took over the young girls lips at this thought, which caught Grace's attention.

"What's your name, you didn't say."

"Carolyn. But, most people call me Lyn." She shrugged, content with this knowledge she wouldn't have to wait much longer to meet the icon of her mind. She took yet another deep inhalation of the smoke, and leant back into the chair.

"What'cha in here for Lyn?" Grace finally said after a few seconds.

Carolyn smiled to herself, her eyes looking at the burning tip of the cigarette.

"You'll see soon enough."

—xXx—

She had lost track of the days before things began to shake up. The medication they had her own kept her nerves down, and the fact she had a room to herself was somewhat of a new thing to her. Growing up, she had always had someone there. And even now, she was used to sharing a bed with Carlos. Not once had she thought about sleeping alone, and unsurprisingly, she didn't like it. She missed the warmth of arms around her, the gentle breeze of breath on her neck and shoulders, and the feeling of a heart beating on her back. Carlos had kept his promise, and had visited once; but it was hardly anything special. As if it were the norm, Carolyn sat there staring at him while he went on about stories of his days, how the house didn't feel the same without her there and that she would get better and how he couldn't wait to welcome her home again. As of now, Carolyn thought of this place as her home... Because he was here. Somewhere. Solitary, apparently. She had considered getting herself thrown in there, just so she could have the possibility of seeing his face, but decided against it for... He would be back in the day room soon. And then she would be able to talk to him, not just look upon his face as she would only be able to do going to solitary.

The doctors had seen her also, talking about trying some medication, and then some therapy. All they needed was a good enough doctor for her to spill her guts out too, and perhaps get this fascination with murder out of her head completely. Shock therapy had been taken for some consideration, but she was yet to undergo the electric pulsing through her body. For now, she would just have to sit back and wait until the true cure walked through the door.

Grace had sat with once or twice, but Carolyn liked to keep herself to herself. Humming soft melodies in her head, and ignoring that damn dominique song. It was on that one particular day she was sitting in the far corner, drawing patterns in the wall with her eyes in silence that a new face appeared and waltz right over to Grace. A man was walking behind him; but she payed no attention for he wasn't in blue. She was in a suit, meaning he was 'sane.' The one who caught her eyes wore the recognizable blue uniform all the inmates wore. He was somewhat tall; not the tallest of men but taller than her anyhow. His hair was a dark blonde, and shaggy like Carlos. His eyes brown, and his expression unreadable. She hadn't seen this inmate before... Which meant one thing. It was him.

Carolyn felt her heart flutter, and her stomach twist in knots. Idly, she watched as Grace greeted him, and pointed in her direction. The male took a glance, his eyes resting right onto her. That moment felt like forever, having the killers eyes she had dreamt about finally on her, taking her in... But it wasn't long enough; for he returned his eyes back to Grace and nodded. In a matter of sheer torment, all of Carolyn's dreams came true. Her newly found french friend began to lead the serial killer towards her. This was her moment... She was finally getting to meet him. Her Bloody Face.

"Kit, this is Carolyn." Grace spoke once they were close enough, and the male put his hand forward. Without thinking, Carolyn took his hand and bowed her head as if he were a god. Grace and Kit shared a concerned look, while Carolyn continued to worship at this mans feet. Maybe she was insane, but she didn't care at this moment. All her thoughts were now pointed to this man.

"It's an honor to meet you, truly." She breathed, unable to hide the shake within her voice. Kit awkwardly took his hand back and smiled somewhat.

"You too?" He replied, though it sounded more of a question than a reply.

"Shall we sit?" Carolyn urged, noting for him to take her seat; which she had found was the most comfortable out of all the chairs in this day room. He nodded, and slid into her seat, while she took the one closest; shuffling a little bit closer. Her eyes danced with amazement, and curiosity. Kit had noticed this, and inwardly he pinpointed that this girl had to be insane. Looking at him with this admiration, when he was meant to be in here on the accusation of being a serial killer?

"Are you comfortable, Bloody Face?" Carolyn asked, ignoring as Grace took a seat beside her.

Kit cleared his throat, uncomfortably shifting in the seat. "I'm not Bloody Face."

"You have to be, otherwise why would you be here?" She insisted, her smile growing. "You do not have to lie to me, Bloody Face. I don't work here, nor do I judge your work."

Kit frowned a little, and looked to the floor. "Just... Call me Kit, alright?"

Carolyn nodded, though she was unsure if she liked that name. Unsure if she liked the thought of the killer she had admired for so long having such an... Unusual name was that.

"Can I ask you something, Kit?" She finally broke the silence after a few seconds. Kit's brown eyes moved up towards her, and slowly gave a nod. Carolyn's smile only grew more.

"What made you skin them?" She whispered, leaning in closer. "And... Would you skin me, if you had the chance?"

She was unsure herself as to why she was asking this, but it just came out. To know that her skin was good enough for this man... Well, she believed it would set everything right. That it would satisfy her urge to obsess over him.

Grace stepped in here, stealing Kit's attention from her. She didn't like that much.

"Lyn, he's not Bloody Face."

Carolyn's eyes narrowed at this; her attention snapping to the girl in sheer rage.

"You're lying! He has to be!" Her voice raised. "You're just jealous he is paying more attention to me, and my skin than yours!"

Others began to listen in on this little argument breaking out, one specific pair of eyes had landed on the raven haired girl shouting about skin. Glassed behind thick lenses and intense eyebrows. His curiosity was brewing.

"You're insane!" Grace snapped, shifting away from Carolyn with disgust in her eyes. Carolyn found herself laughing, her eyes rolling in sarcasm.

"I'm part of your club, honey!"

Before anything else could be said, the two girls began to claw at one another. A real roughhouse rumble. Carolyn was eventually pulled from Grace by a strong set of arms, dragging her away much like the way she had been dragged in here. She didn't want the jacket again... Anything but the jacket!

"I'll take her to calm her down, I'll give her Ativan or Klonopin. Kit, you stay there." The voice was saying to a sister, and then to Kit himself, yet all Carolyn could do was hiss towards Grace and how close she was to Kit. He was hers! She worshiped him! How could he choose her? She didn't show an interest in his hobby, or his skill in the way he killed those women! She did! As she was dragged out from the room, the music halted and Carolyn was met with the unmissable silence apart from her own cries.

Her posture soon fell into a seat, where she half expected a jacket to be placed around her frame; forcing her to be immobile. But there wasn't. Instead, Carolyn was given a cup of water, and a little white cup with pills within it.

"Take them." He dominant voice ordered; and she obliged almost instantly.

It took only a matter of minutes until she felt everything become a haze again. There, she finally met eyes with the man who took her from her Bloody Face. He was dashingly handsome. Thick black hair, all slicked back and in a sensual style. Transparent pale skin, and large brown eyes which were only intensified with those glasses with the dark frames.

"How do you feel?" He was asking, taking control of the situation.

Carolyn blinked, and nodded her head at this handsome stranger.

"What was that commotion about?" He asked in a soft tone, mellow and more calming than the drugs. Carolyn found herself somewhat drawn to the softness of his voice. It reminded her of Carlos, the way he used to speak to her before this dreaded obsession took over her life. Maybe she really was crazy...

"I..." Carolyn tried to find the words to speak, her eyes drifting to look at her hands holding the cup of water in her palms. "They think I'm insane... All I did was..." She paused again, her fingers holding tighter to the cup as if it were a lifeline.

"What did you do?" He pressed, but in a patient manner.

"I asked him if he would skin me if he could." She muttered quietly. "He refuses to admit to being Bloody Face, when all I want to do is know him."

The male didn't speak, instead he just watched as the raven haired woman stuttered to find her words. She went on to speak of how she felt like she was in the presence of a god with him around her, knowing he held so much dominance over women. Something Carlos, he presumed her lover, failed to ever show her. Knowing that Kit was indeed Bloody Face, and she was sitting in his presence, and he had the power to remove her head, and skin for that matter, if he so wanted too thrilled her. A weight seemed to be taken off Carolyn's back as she spoke these unspoken adorations. These hidden fantasies she held for this serial killer. She didn't care if it deemed her insane, mad and crazy. It felt good to finally... Talk about this.

Carolyn finished speaking after a final sentence of; "He likes Grace's presence more than mine. Someone who won't worship at his feet..."

He had no clue as to who Grace was, but from this girls lips the male felt a ring of desire rising within his core. This girl only wanted to give her all to Kit, the supposed Bloody Face that haunted the streets of Boston. And yet, she was unknown to the fact she was sitting in the presence of the real Bloody Face. Confessing her unconditional love for this killer, even if she was unsure if it was indeed love she felt.

Carolyn kept her eyes on the cup as her lips drew to a close; unsure as to why this male was keeping quiet. And even more so, why she had confessed everything to him. She didn't even know his name for Christ sake.

"It's clear you have an subconscious longing for something you think Kit can give due to his crimes..." He began to speak, attracting the light eyes of the girl. Her full attention was on him. "I think, if we strip back all these unspoken things, and go back to the roots of what might be causing this fascination we might find a cure to your insanity."

Carolyn's eyes arched at his chosen words. He was the first person to see it the way she did. Not as an unhealthy obsession, but a fascination. Something that could be normal, and removed if needed.

"I shall pull a few strings, and see if I can treat you myself along with Kit Walkers case."

Carolyn's head tilted to the side a little. "You're a doctor?"

He nodded, a polite smile coming to his features. "I'm Doctor Oliver Thredson. Physiatrist, and I think I could help you."

Carolyn's lips pulled into a smile, plush pink joy radiated from her. Joy filling her eyes, and a bright gleam within her eyes. He had seen this look before; not focused on him before, but on other men from women. Admiration at the fact he was willing to help. Carolyn's smile kept on growing as their eyes danced to a silent song, until her voice broke the air.

"I'm Carolyn Valentine. It's a pleasure to meet you, doctor."

As true as her words were, more so than what she realized; the pleasure was slowly drifting to become the doctors.


A/N:

Yeah, so this was unexpected. I woke up this morning feeling that buzz to write something new, other than Twilight. Gotta love a bit of the Quinto. Anyhow, I'm unsure if I should continue this. Let me know in the reviews? Thanks for taking the time to read this babble!

-C.H