Ok yall, this is take two at a Pyschonauts fan fiction. This one WILL I repeat WILL have a plot. The plot will be odd but I hope you all like it…

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Sasha Nein leaned over a hospital cot in the Pyschonauts medical facility for the third time that day. The small room he stood in was bleak like a white snowy winter day. The walls, floor, bed sheets and even ever so slightly the completion of the people were white. The government issued army hospital cots were lined up in a neat row against the wall. There were four patient in the four neatly spaces beds. Sasha had been through this routine several times. Each Sure, it was a different person but same routine. Name, birth date, reason for being there, psychic or non-psychic so on and so forth.

"Gloria Von Guten, birthday March 21, 1970, found at Thorney Towers Home for the Insane after its collapse, still undefined because of prolonged exposure to psytainium." He said into the tape recorder.

It was the same thing, it had been for the past two weeks monitoring them and checking for any signs of movement. Their brain function was normal but they couldn't get up or move or maintain consciousness for more than a minute.

"Patient is a thirty four year old woman. She is of German and Austrian decent. She was admitted to the mental institution on August 4, 2001 after receiving the letter concerning her mothers suicide." he said into the recorder again, hitting the stop button with his thumb bitterly.

He couldn't understand why Milla didn't handle this part. She was caring and nurturing. He was cold and…well cold like Pluto is cold as well as distant. He would be better with the scientific part of this case. It was odd. They could have easily gotten away without a trace. The agents would have just assumed that they perished in the building collapse along with Crispin Wytehead and the Loboto character.

"She still shows no sign of movement but all brain activity is normal, but sometimes goes through some type of rapid fire. Possible set off by outside agent or psytainium."

Sasha strode over to the next bed with a prone figure lying among the crisp white hospital sheets. He was by far the youngest of the group. The young man was only twenty-eight and possibly done, in a coma of sorts for the rest of his life. He stared down at the thin pale man and then flicked on the tape recorder again.

"Fredrick J. Bonaparte, born November sixth 1976, found at Thorney Towers Home for the Insane after its collapse, psychic abilities still undefined as to prolonged exposure to psytainium." Sasha flicked the recorder to pause and looked down at him again.

He would never have pegged him for twenty-eight, maybe around his own age, thirty- three maybe. Then again he had been kept in a broken down asylum for ten months.

"Patient is a twenty-eight year old male. He is of French decent. Fredrick J. Bonaparte was admitted to the mental institution on April 27, 2003. He was admitted due to an extreme inferiority complex and schizophrenia." Sasha clicked off the recorder again and walked down the aisle of occupied beds.

Edger Teglee an artist, Boyd Cooper a security guard, Gloria Von Guten an ex-actress, and Fred Bonaparte who was really Doctor Bonaparte the psychologist. Sasha's black shoes bore in stark contrast to the bleached white floor as he again walked down the aisle between the beds and the equally blinding white wall. It was silent as he reached the shiny metal door, with the exception of the clicking of his shoes on the linoleum tile. Before he left the he turned around one last time to inspect the room. None of them had move an iota, the heart rate and brain monitors twittered and beeps normally, and nothing was bursting into flame. Sasha turned on his heel and briskly exited the hospital room.