Sasha had used one of the door frames to do pull ups. It was hard to keep a good grip, and he would occasionally loose it and land on his feet. He would, however, go right back to it until the tips of his fingers had deep, purple indentations from the frame. Did it hurt? Of course it did. But Sasha was no stranger to pain, and small things like that hardly phased him anymore.

When he'd finished his last set, he started doing lunges. Legs were particularly hard to work out without the use of weights or equipment, so he would compensate by doing twice the amount of sets as he would have in an actual gym. It wasn't hard; he tended to just zone out when he exercised. It gave him something to do without having to focus too much, allowing him to think. He was positioned so that he could see the calendar he'd etched into the paint on the wall. No one seemed to have noticed his small act of vandalism yet; or maybe they just didn't give a shit. Even if they painted over it, he probably would just do it again. He was just a cantankerous asshole like that. 

Sasha was halfway through his leg routine, and just starting to feel a bit of sweat, when someone knocked on the door. He paused, then straightened up. Sasha was sure that he'd heard the voice of that Irish doctor. Female, red haired, pretty attractive, spooky as hell. There was something about her that made him instinctively avoid her. He'd relied on his sense of character judgement for most of his career, and he could tell there was something off about that woman. She'd seemed nice at first; Sasha had even thought of her as one of the good ones. But then he'd happened to get a glance of her one day when he was struggling, yet again, with the guards over his lack of cooperation with his meds. She had been staring at the confrontation with this look in her eye. Sasha had seen a similar look in the eyes of people who placed bets at dog fighting rings. He got the sense that she got some kind of enjoyment out of the show.

Every now and then, he would see her give other patients that look. It would send a nasty chill up his spine. He didn't like playing gladiator any more than he liked playing lab rat. 

After a moment of considering his options, which consisted only of A: open the door, or B: Stay in his room until [i]she[/i] opened the door, he finally went to see what she wanted. Sasha strode over quietly and opened the door, staying behind the threshold. His cold, blue eyes stared down at the woman in question, his expression saying everything before he even opened his mouth. 
"What do you want?"