The worst thing about being on suicide watch was Nursezilla. Or nurse Van Dyke, as was her real name, but the former suited her better. She was very strong, and she did not tolerate Fisher's shyness, and that was annoying as shit. She seemed to think he was "cute", walking around in his underwear and tee shirts. She also liked bringing him to the Rec room to make him socialize, because people with friends did not try to kill themselves. But what Nursezilla did not know was that Fisher had no interest in making friends. Or perhaps she did know, but did not care.
So once again he was in the Rec room, once again sitting on the floor by her chair until she kicked him and made him walk around. Grumbling, Fisher got to his feet, mosying about with his arms crossed over his chest. Too bad Finn wasn't here, he could sit with him and talk and satisfy bitch nurse's desire for him to be friendly. But James McCafferty was here, lying on the couch. James had a reputation surrounding him like a dark stormcloud, one Fisher was pretty certain was completely true. He had been in the room next to James for a month now, but had never even seen the guy's face properly. Well, not whan it wasn't screaming at some orderly dragging him off.
Moving quietly, head cocked slightly, Fisher approached the man laying spread out on the couch, looking him over. He didn't look all that muscular, or tough, or scary. Except for the scowl permenantly etched onto his face. Fisher smirked a little. So this was the angry growler next door. (As opposed to the guy who growled cuz he thought he was a coyote or some such thing.)