Sam mulled over the decision she was about to make. For her, it was a meticulous process, but in reality took only seconds. The facts were laid bare in those seconds, ugly things, shining in the sunlight which could not be ignored. She was an escaped mental patient, off her meds for a week, injured and marooned in the middle of the forest. Even if she could somehow treat herself, she couldn't do it with pine needles and tree sap. Death had always seemed preferable to the treatments...until it was actually an option. She chalked it up to brain damage and resolved to go with Dr. Wilson. "Fine," she grumbled. "But just enough to fix me. No 'corrections'." Thinking about it, she somehow managed to break through the sludge in her mind to come to a rational idea regarding their escape. She couldn't know about the sabotage of TSP's vehicles, and even if she had, she'd still want insurance. That place had been like the institution in many ways, but was somehow darker, more sinister. She couldn't allow them to take her back to that place; back to where medical law might have no hold at all on its administration. "Get us to the car," she told the doctor. She shook her head lightly, trying to clear away the haze. "Need a phone or a computer. Need cover." --- [center][img=http://i262.photobucket.com/albums/ii81/BlessedWrath/SamColesBanner_zpsc6ec858a.png][/center]