I don't own American Horror Story.

I wrote this last night after watching Asylum. This is very AU and it postulates that Oliver Thredson wasn't bloody face. I loved Zachary Quinto and Sarah Paulson together so I'm making it happen in fanfiction. This is all I wrote, let me know what you think so that means reviews

She was finally out of that hellhole. Dr. Thredson's plan had worked wonderfully. She was terrified, scared that any second now Sister Jude, Frank or even Sister Mary would stop the car and put her back to the electroshock therapies, the mindless idle hours, the poor excuse for food and the dark and horrid places. She looked on as the psychiatrist drove on, finally out of Briarcliff and its surrounding gates. Thredson startled her out of her musings.

"Lana, we're going to my apartment. We'll figure things once we you are safely hidden." He sounded nervous just as she felt. This could go south very quickly, she was an escaped mental health patient. A sick homosexual undergoing therapy to curve her deviance, she cried silently. She had loved Wendy ever since college. She was her soul mate; Wendy was a gentle, progressive, caring woman. Lana wiped her tears harshly, that same caring woman had betrayed her, their love, who they were. She had let Sister Jude commit her to Briarcliff. She looked out the window and remembered what Thredson said, Kit wasn't Bloody Face, and he couldn't be, Wendy had disappeared or so Thredson said. Lana wanted to go to her house and sleep, forget about this horrible nightmare.

The doctor opened the car door for her and lead her to the modest apartment. Lana felt some anxiety; she wanted to go home, to a familiar place. Instead she was again going to an unfamiliar place. Dr. Threadson invited her in.

"Make yourself at home Lana." He took the box from her hands and guided her to a sofa.

Lana took in her surroundings, it was a simple apartment, cold, spartanly furnished, very male so unlike her apartment. Lana didn't like this place. She turned, "Dr. Thredson, I'd like to go home."

"Oliver." He said with a smile and shrugged off his jacket suit. "You can't go to your apartment Lana. That's the first place the police would look for you." He came close to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Lana didn't like the gesture. She didn't like to be touched by men. They hurt women like her and she'd been hurt too much already.

"Have a seat. You need to calm down. I'm going to prescribe something for you."

The words escaped her before she could get a hold of them. "No, I don't want any medicine, please." She said afraid to not be herself again. Lana was scared, she didn't want to become that mindless zombie she had been when in Briarcliff.

The doctor smiled, "A big delicious glass of wine." He said with a strain on his voice.

Lana smiled back, "That doesn't sound half bad."

Thredson smiled too. "White or red."

"Red." He stepped away to the kitchen. Lana saw the phone first and had the incredible drive to call someone anyone. She had to make sure somebody knew she was finally free. She dialed Louise number she had to know what happened to Wendy.

"No phone calls." Thredson said darkly but then his mood lightened, "Lana you have to realize I'm at risk as well. I helped you escape; this could hurt my career tremendously."

"I called Louise she might know where Wendy is." Dr. Thredson placed his hands on her arms again, it was supposed to be a reassuring gesture but Lana flinched noticeably. "Relax; it's been a long day for you. This place is safe; I have already made an appointment with a police officer. I have Kit Walker's confession; together we'll shut down Briarcliff."

Lana accepted a glass of wine but was confused, "Kit confessed?" She almost believed that Kit didn't do it.

Dr. Thredson nodded eagerly, a little too eagerly for her liking. Lana sat down and downed a little sip of her wine glass. She wasn't exactly at ease in this place. It was too stark, too masculine for her liking. She looked at a lamp close to her, this man had poor taste, it was beige and ugly, and the mint holder was plastic and lacked décor. He offered her one but she refused, she didn't feel at ease with Oliver Thredson. She should be, by all means the doctor had been her savior. There was something strange about him. She avoided his gaze.

"You'll write about this. You'll win a Pulitzer prize and I'm going to be recognized for my work as mental health professional." Lana smiled, so that was his angle. He wanted recognition just as she did.

Lana excused herself to the restroom and looked at her limp hair and her gaunt face. She almost wept; she had always been very superficial Wendy used to indulge her. Wendy where could she be? What if Bloody Face killed her? What if he was still out there?"

She left the bathroom scared, a bad feeling in her stomach and a knot around her throat. When she reached the living room Thredson was pouring himself another glass of wine. She couldn't help but ask him again.

"Do you think Kit really did it?" she asked somberly, in the back of her mind she already knew the answer. It wasn't Kit, it couldn't be.

He had the decency to look surprised, "Of course, he did it. He confessed to it." Thredson said as if that settled matters immediately.

Lana didn't know why but she was convinced the doctor was lying to her. "Then where is Wendy?" She asked.

The doctor didn't have answers for her he looked a little agitated and swiftly lit a cigarette. "It has to be Kit. There is no other suspect. Kit probably blocked his memories but it had to be him."

Lana shook her head, "You know that Kit couldn't have done it. He's not a psychopath."

Thredson took a long drag. "Then the killer is still out there. I have made inquiries around; your lover is nowhere to be found." He said bluntly.

"Sister Jude knows. She was the one who trapped Wendy into signing those papers." Lana continued.

"We will talk tomorrow Lana. It's been a long day and I'm so very confused. I have to hand in my assessment of Kit tomorrow morning."

Lana couldn't help but ask, "What is your diagnosis?"

"He's fit to stand trial." Thredson ruled implacably. Lana was confused too. Kit Walker, Sister Jude, Grace they all were a nightmare she wanted to forget. She would get Briarcliff down, make a name for herself and leave all this behind her. She would find Wendy in the morning and talk to her. Maybe she would forgive Wendy and they would live together again.

"I'll show you to your room for the night." He stood up and lead her, he placed his hand on her small back and she flinched. The doctor ignored it and showed her to a bedroom. It was his bedroom. Lana looked with dread, there were no escapes, no exits and the window to the left was too small for her to climb out.

"You'll sleep here tonight. Fear not Ms. Winters I will sleep on the couch." He said with a harsh voice and left abruptly. That feeling of dread overwhelmed her again when he left and shut the door.

Lana almost hyperventilated when the doctor left. She wanted to take a shower and sleep. She sat down in the bed. She cried, this was so confusing, she should be happy. She was free and it was all because of Thredson but she didn't want to be here. "He's good. He saved you. He's good." She repeated until her head hit the pillow.

She woke up screaming and in an unfamiliar place. Bloody Face had her, it was Oliver Thredson. He had been the one murdering woman and she was next. She screamed with all her might when the door opened and he was inside.

"Lana stop. You'll wake up the neighbors." He sounded sleepy and confused.

She kept yelling, "Stay away from me murderer." She recoiled and moved away as far as possible from the figure by the door.

Oliver Thredson used his calmest voice. "If you keep yelling they'll send you back to Briarcliff and I will not be able to help you."

Lana quieted, she couldn't go back, she wouldn't not again, not ever.

He moved to the bed and Lana moved away from it. She wasn't going to be hurt again. "I don't want to hurt you Lana." He said harshly, too harshly for a person who was supposed to be a psychiatrist.

"You're Bloody Face." She replied courageously.

The doctor looked surprised, "No, I'm not." He said firmly.

He came closer and grabbed her by the arm. She yelled and cried, but he was stronger than her. "You have to be quiet." Lana obeyed.

"I'm not Bloody Face. Kit Walker is." He replied while walking to the living room. He turned on the hideous lamps. The light calmed her and gave her a focus point. He looked disheveled, no glasses, his hair askew. He wore an undershirt and his trousers. She remembered all his clothes were in the bedroom and he had given the bedroom to her so she could be safe.

"Kit is innocent in know it and you know it." She replied waveringly.

Thredson angrily paced, "Then who the fuck is Bloody Face because it's sure as hell not me." He replied with contained fury. It was as if Lana wasn't there anymore.

"I've thought about it but I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it." He repeated.

"Couldn't do what?" She asked timidly.

"Kill people." He said honestly.

Lana gasped loudly. She couldn't be here, she had to leave. "I'm not going to hurt you Lana." He pinched his nose and drank his whisky.

"I'll stay right here. Go back to bed." She went back and locked the door. It was a feeble attempt at protecting herself. Useless in fact, Thredson had all the keys to his apartment in his jacket pocket.

Oliver didn't sleep. He poured another drink. He wasn't the good doctor people believed him to be. He had a dark side, he was a deviant, lusting for women who looked like his mother or he thought looked like his mother. He lacked affection all his life. He was an orphan, a ward of the state until he was eighteen years old. No one adopted him, as a child he'd been too sickly. "You're whore of a mother left you at our doorstep when you were two days old. Didn't even bother to breastfeed you." Sister Therese told him when he was five years old.

Oliver barely made it through infancy, all his basic needs were met but he never knew true affection. No family wanted him, he wasn't a chubby blond baby, he was the runt of the litter and always sick. He grew up in an orphanage and then worked his way up to school and university. He was very intelligent, but strange, no women would look at him, he was awkward. Once in college his peers had taken delight into knowing that he was still a virgin at twenty and decided to take him to a brothel. Oliver's first sexual experience had been with an older woman. Brown hair, Caucasian, like his mother, a plain Jane as Sister Therese called her.

He'd been rough with her, very rough but the woman encouraged his proclivities. Since then Oliver had frequented brothels, he was always rough. The whores he frequented were older, bruised and too damaged to really call him for what he was, a rapist. The doctor had had one single girlfriend who called him rapist after their first sexual encounter. She had bled and cried. Margaret Collins broke off the relationship and called him a pervert. He decided to go to medical school, become a psychiatrist and understand the depth of his deviance. Oliver knew from an early age that he was different; he was afflicted, unloved and deeply angry at women.

Women weren't to be trusted, the abandoned, lied and destroyed lives. Oliver at some point admired Bloody Face for taking steps. That notion scared him beyond measure because he knew that he could have been Bloody Face, he fit the sick profile. Oliver Thredson was a sociopath. He had antisocial personality disorder and he knew it. He had never killed before but he knew it was a matter of time. He was controlled, low arousal, indifference to the feelings of others. Highly intelligent, power hungry and tenacious, he could very well become a serial killer if so he wanted and that knowledge tormented him from time to time.

It bothered him tonight because of the woman in his bedroom. There was something that drew him to Lana Winters. He was painfully aware that Lana was a homosexual and unlike his peers he knew conversion therapy only curved proclivities, the therapy didn't not eradicate the desire for the same sex. Lana was too much like him, too ambitious, tenacious and power hungry. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that both Lana and him wanted Briarcliff to close for a single reason: fame. Lana wanted to be acknowledged for her work as a journalist and he. He wanted to be recognized in his field once and for all. He wanted everyone to know who Oliver Thredson was and how his therapy and insight of the human mind changed lives. Lana was his ticket to achieve that, they both had one interest in common. Bloody Face, he had wanted to delve into the mind of a killer like him, of course he was very self aware. The killer of women could be him in the right circumstances. Things were complicated now. Kit Walker didn't do it, he couldn't care less but apparently Lana did.

He'd been too invested in Kit Walker and his coercion of a confession to see the bigger picture first. He'd met Lana and suddenly shutting Briarcliff was all he could think about. He wanted Lana, it was obvious. She was a headstrong, ambitious woman and he wanted her by his side. Oliver tried the aversion and conversion therapy and that was unsuccessful. He could kidnap her and keep her in the basement. The doctor gulped some more alcohol, no, it didn't appeal to him. He didn't want her by force. He wanted Lana Winters to love him and he had learned that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

Oliver stayed awake thinking, was it worth it. Making Lana fall in love with him would take great determination and all his patience. He could easily let Kit take the blame, give the authorities the recorded confession and pave his way as the psychiatrist who made possible such a capture. He would have the recognition but no Lana. The doctor leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. Lana was fragile, unbalanced and apparently believed him to be the serial killer. She wouldn't be easily fooled; she was a cunning woman and perhaps saw through his carefully placed and rehearsed mask. Perhaps Lana Winters saw the sociopath, the ugly side of his nature.

Oliver didn't have her trust yet. It was painfully obvious that Lana despised men. He was intrinsically male; there was nothing he could do about his external appearance. He was tall, with a strong jaw and masculine built. He would have to approach her in a different manner. He would have to be nurturing and sensitive with her. He would support Lana, make her so dependent on him she would never dare leave. He closed his eyes and went to sleep with that thought.

Next day he woke up earlier than her. He stretched and realized he would have to buy another bed and place it in one of the spare rooms. He couldn't take another night in the couch. His muscles protested when he stretched. He used the bathroom and showered. It would be a long day. It was close to 7:00 AM, he needed to hurry up and wake Lana so they could have breakfast. He dried his body and put on the slacks without the shirt. He needed to find clean clothes in his bedroom. Lana would be sleeping for sure. He gingerly opened the door and slowly retrieved clean clothes. He was almost out the door when she spoke, "I'm sorry about yesterday." She said with a really small voice. He slowly turned; he wanted to see her reaction to him shirtless. It was as expected, a flinch. Lana was homosexual and convinced of her own sexuality.

"You do not have to be sorry. You should shower, I'm sorry I do not have any clothes for you. You'll have to wear yours again. I could wash them for you if you'd like. There's a robe in the bathroom." He said as calmly and honestly as he could muster. He tried to look as caring as possible which was easy since he did care about Lana's wellbeing.

The brunette smiled. "I'll take a shower now. Where do I leave my clothes?"

Oliver nodded, "leave them behind the door. I'll put them in the washer and dryer. We'll have breakfast and then go to the police station." Lana nodded and averted her gaze. She didn't want to look at him without his shirt.

He wanted to prolong the exchange, Lana needed to get used to his nakedness. He knew that Lana would be attracted to women until she cold in the ground but he also knew that he could entice her and train her to love and desire him. "Is there anything specific that you want me to make for breakfast?" He asked working his charm.

She shook her head, "anything but porridge." She said and smiled, one of those forced little smiles that she gave him whenever she was too uncomfortable to do anything else.

He stayed in the room as she went into the restroom. He waited patiently for the drab and dirty clothes and then put them in the washer, disgust evident in his face. He'd never met Lana before but he was sure she had unparalleled taste when it came to clothing. These rags were pitiful. He made breakfast, croque-monsiur, his favorite and waited patiently for Lana to show up.

Lana looked like a drowned rat. She needed to eat more and gain a few pounds she needed to be taken care of. She drank some of her orange juice and savored her food. The conversation was less forced than before. "Do you think I could go home after the police takes in my statement? She asked softly.

"I don't know. I would recommend you stayed with your family until Briarcliff is finally shut down." Of course he knew that the Winters had cut all communications with their deviant daughter. Lana had few friends that in reality were Wendy's not hers. She didn't have anyone only him.

Lana shook her head, "My parents are out of my life." Oliver knew, they were ashamed of her and had concocted an elaborate story in which she was residing in Europe.

He extended his hand to hers and squeezed hers, she didn't flinch this time. "Lana, my house is open until you feel safe to be on your own." He started the process to get Lana. First, isolate her from her friend and in this case her nonexistent family.

She smiled, "Thank you Oliver." She replied quietly.

He dressed in his bedroom while Lana did so in the bathroom. Oliver looked impeccable, ready to expose Briarcliff, meanwhile Lana looked deplorable. Her hair was still limp, unkempt and she was pale as a ghost.

He drove them to the police station and they waited for his contact, a heavy blond man who didn't look at Lana twice.

"Thredson, you better have that signed confession." The man said.

Oliver shook his head, "Kit Walker didn't do it." The doctor took a risk and it paid off. Lana initiated hand contact with him. She kept her hand on top of his.

"What are you babbling about? The kid fits perfectly and you yourself said that last time we met."

The doctor nodded, "I was able to better assess my diagnosis and there is proof that Walker might be innocent."

The man looked ready to burst a vein, Arthur Spears was too predictable and easily lead. "Ms. Peyser is gone missing. I reported her missing last month. Are there any leads?" Oliver had done no such thing; he couldn't care less where that Wendy woman was.

"No leads yet." The police detective said musingly, now more open to the suggestion that Kit Walkers was not their man after all.

"Thredson, you very well know I'm not the lead detective in this case. You have to speak with Redgrave and figure things out yourself." The man stood up and escorted them to another office. This one was well kept and bigger.

Another man, this one thin and older sat behind a desk. "I have no desire to take on more cases Spears. If you want a lighter load you might want to solve those cases you have pending."

The blond man blushed, "Sir, this is Dr. Thredson, the psychiatrist in charge of evaluating Kit Walker." The man behind the desk had piercing blue eyes. "Have a seat. Spears leave us alone and take the lady to social services."

Lana looked at Oliver and grabbed his hand immediately, the action reminiscent of a child clinging to their guardian. "No sir, Ms. Winters needs to be here." He replied firmly.

"Very well." Redgrave stated and motioned for them to take seats. Spears left presumably to check on the missing reports for one Wendy Peyser.

"Kit Walker is fit to stand for trial however I think he's innocent." The doctor said with a simple voice.

The detective laughed derisively, "Doctor let us do our job, we don't interfere with yours."

"This is a grave mistake; Kit Walker doesn't fit the psychiatric profile. He doesn't know the layout of the bodies or even how many there were." Thredson stated.

"He's pathological liar." The detective replied, now annoyed by the doctor.

"I believe we have another victim, Wendy Peyser, she's been missing for a month now." Thredson continued.

The detective remained impassive. "Kit Walker confessed to those crimes."

"He was coerced to do so." Oliver replied cunningly.

"We cannot let our only suspect go because he didn't fit the psychological tests to a t." The policeman wasn't deterred. "In the remote case that Walker is innocent then there's still more investigations to be preformed. His wife is missing he was found bloodied and uninjured in a dazed and confused state. He is a criminal at best or a mental health patient at worst, either way he deserved to be locked up in Briarcliff.

"No one deserves Briarcliff, especially not Kit." Lana said with some of her old spark back.

"And who might you be." The detective looked confused.

"I was wrongfully imprisoned at Briarcliff Manor until yesterday."

"What is this woman on about?" Redgrave asked

"Briarcliff has deteriorated physically, financially and in terms of mental health treatments." During that month and a half that I stayed in the premises the barbarity and the lack of care was evident.

"Briarcliff is run by the state with of course the help of the church. I have no jurisdiction there. You would have to speak with the state department. We are responsible for Kit Walker only." The detective didn't beat around the bush.

"People are dying and some are imprisoned without apparent cause." Lana said firmly, her voice gaining strength.

"Who might you be?" Redgrave inquired.

"Lana Winters." She stretched her other hand trembling.

"Why were you committed?" The detective asked but something in his voice told Oliver that the man already knew about Lana's case.

"She was wrongfully committed, Ms. Winters is highly functional and as sane as any of us in this room." Oliver was vague.

"Despite her homosexuality." Redgrave said with some contempt. Lana shivered and squeezed his hand.

"Ms. Winters is cured. Aversion and conversion therapy have worked on her. I was able to reshape her behaviors." Thredson said calmly.

Redgrave snorted, "All I need from you is your evaluation. Is Kit Walker fit to stand for trial?"

The doctor replied immediately, "He is but I don't believe he's guilty."

The detective cut him off, "That is not your decision doctor. A jury and a judge will determine that."

The man stood up and showed them to the door. "I would advise you to return this mental patient doctor. She doesn't belong in the outside world. She belongs in Briarcliff." Lana clutched his hand tightly.

They left the police station in a hurry. Once in the car, Lana asked, "You're not going to send me back are you?" she was fearful of the answer.

He should send her back and forget about her but he couldn't he felt an attraction to her that wouldn't go away. She was special, different and would be his. "No, we are going to get you clothes and things you may need. I don't think is safe for you to be on your own." Lana nodded. "Oliver, I really appreciate all of this." She smiled and he smiled back, a genuine smile once and for all.

"I want to go my house. I want to speak with our friends and know where Wendy is." Oliver wanted Wendy to be gone. He would have to get rid of her, he'd never killed people before but it couldn't be different than killing animals. He hunted before and the power of taking a life had been almost intoxicating. He was had very much power and self control and decided to not hunt again. He could put his successful life in jeopardy but he would kill Wendy Peyser in order to have Lana.

"Sure but before we have to get you those clothes." Lana nodded. "I don't have any money Oliver. Wendy was the one who worked regularly I…"

"Don't worry about it Lan. When you win that Pulitzer you'll pay me back." He said winningly and Lana laughed.

Lana was overwhelmed, her apartment was deserted. There was nothing in the house, they had either been robbed or Wendy had sold everything and left. She looked at the floor and found the small drops of blood that Oliver had alluded to in the past. That made her sick to her stomach. She wore sensible clothes. Oliver had been kind enough to let her buy things and Lana hadn't refused. She needed clothes, she went to their bedroom and found her things intact but Wendy had taken all of her things. She cried and then called Louise who explained everything.

"Darling, Wendy left two days after you were committed. She couldn't take the guilt, she packed everything and went to New York. Honey, I'm so sorry is there anything I can do for you. Do you need to stay with us for a while? Wendy put the place on the market." The annoying woman parroted. She wouldn't be subject to pitying looks and false sentiments.

"No, thanks Lou, I'm staying with a friend." She said trying to control her emotions. She hung up shortly and then looked at Oliver who approached her.

"I'm very sorry Lana." He said quietly and patted her hand. She was so grateful for her doctor. She wasn't mistaken, and was so sorry to have doubted him. Oliver Thredson was a friend a good person who cared about his patients. In that vulnerable moment Lana yearned for comfort and found it in the good doctor. She hugged him, he was bigger, stronger than her and for the first time in six or seven months she felt safe. He hugged her tightly and shushed her.

"You can stay with me as long as you want Lan." She cried into his shirt. "Thank you Oliver, I don't know how I'm going to pay you."

"Don't worry, as I told you earlier you're going to write about this. We'll bring down Briarcliff." He said and held her.

Lana was strong and resilient. She had endured all those years at home knowing she was different and tormenting herself for liking women and then she had grinned at all the sexist remarks in the newspapers. She would come out of this, the worst was over. She could now start all over and make a name for herself.

"Oliver, what are we doing about Kit and Briarcliff?" She was still pressed against his chest and she had no inklings of letting go. He smelled of men cologne and cigarettes. Not a pleasant smell but she found herself associating the cigarettes with him. He was always so calm and collected. Lana liked that, she needed a friend like that.

His voice was just as calm, "We are going to file a proper claim against Briarcliff. I have to give them Kit. He doesn't belong in Briarcliff." Lana felt him rubbing her back and she liked it. How could have she distrusted him yesterday when it was evident Oliver only wanted her to be well. He cared for her and Kit.

"But they'll prosecute Kit." She answered.

"They'll ask me to testify and I'll tell them the truth Lan." She cried, and realized that he called her Lan now. He hushed her and held her until she wiped her tears. "I'm not like this Oliver. I usually don't cry this much." She offered a watery smile.

He helped her gather her clothes and things. Lana didn't keep anything that reminded her of Wendy; she left the book of poems by Sylvia Plath and the pink nightgown she gave her for her birthday. Oliver left her alone so she could pack her clothes and told her he would wait by the car.

Lana looked around and mourned the loss of the love of her life she was sure she would never find anyone else like her. No other woman would ever compare, no other relationship would ever measure to the love she had for Wendy. Lana was angry too, how could Wendy leave her, betray her like this, she never wanted to see her again. This cut too deeply, it was too rough for her. She wasn't sentimental and never would be. She was going to come out of this stronger than ever before. She took one last look and left that place for good.