Josh felt weak.

He was sleep-deprived as it was, and after just blacking out again an hour ago and trying to strangle a therapist - god knows where Keri had been at the time, he certainly didn't want to pick any more fights like that - they had practically stabbed his arm with that needle, and the injection area was now throbbing painfully. The next person that told him 'needles didn't hurt' was going to get one jabbed in their eyes.

But right now, he was being herded into the front room by security gaurds. Well, more dragged than herded, because he was pissed off, trying to resist their pull. "I can walk for myself you idiots," he practically growled, his voice cold and icy. "Just because I've been deemed insane doesn't mean I lost the ability to move. Get off!"

Of course, he was ignored. This didn't surprise him.

Josh's weakness didn't mean that he couldn't argue, and struggle, and do everything in his power to piss off the guards, though. They were already fuming at him, because Steven was currently in the hospital with a vicious slash mark down his arm. That had been a fun day, Josh remembered. He'd been concious during the entire thing, how lovely. As soon as Steven tried to provoke him into blacking out, he'd moved faster than a lightning strike and grabbed a knife from the belt at the guards waist and ran it down his arm. Josh had been hit over the head with a pistol, kicked and then shoved in a cell, but it was worth it to know that he'd almost caused the death of that asshole guard.

With a last irritated sigh, he was forced to sit in a chair in the waiting room while the guards reported all the stuff he'd done that day. He laughed, flatly, emotionlessly, when they gave the receptionist the update on Steven's condition. "Bloody bastard deserves it."

Noticing that there was a girl a few chairs away from him, he glanced at her, then paused. He'd been about to return his attention to the wall - which he'd been staring at - but something made him stop. She was wearing handcuffs, like him. But that's not what he noticed. "Do I know you?" he wondered, cocking his head lightly to the side. She looked rather... familiar.

Now, Josh was in a foul mood alright, but his facade was still in place, so he refrained from negative reaction at her original response to his words. He'd been letting this place change him, but now he was fighting back, trying to reclaim the person he'd been happy with. Well, not quite happy, more satisfied than anything. When he could con his way in and out of anything, charm someone with a few choice words, and convince people to help him slide out of rough situations when most normal people would have no hope. He'd been thinking in such a negative way lately, about how he'd never get out of this place, and all that load of crap. He'd been like that about jail in the beginning too, though, he remembered. And he'd gotten out of that one... only to be stuck here.

Tough luck.

So instead of snapping at her, he just rolled his eyes lightly, grinning. "Well. Someone's feeling sour." Now, Josh might have reacted differently, but he still swore that he had met her somewhere before, or at least seen her around. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, though. She did act like the people in the crowds he used to involve himself in were expected to, but that wasn't a rare quality in a place like this. No, it was her face that caught his eye, her features. Gah. That was going to annoy him, that was. He'd be bothered by it until he solved it.

He thought about her question for a minute. "Huh. I would say British Columbia, but that wouldn't be totally true. I mean I was born here and all, but I move around a lot. Well, I did, I mean. Before some asshole decided to have me shoved here. I've been to a lot of places. Mainly in Canada and the States. Why do you ask?"