damned_institute | Day 66: Sun Room (Third Shift)

When the shift changed, Gabriel didn't hesitate to take his leave, and Castiel couldn't blame him for that. He likely had other people he wanted to talk to, and as a newer patient, he might even be curious about some of the other areas. Castiel had seen it all multiple times by now, so when his nurse asked him if he wanted to move elsewhere, he declined.

It seemed better to remain in one spot for as long as he could and stay still so that his body wasn't pushed past its limits. His nurse couldn't argue with that, so instead she went to go get him some more painkillers, which he swallowed down instantly.

Relying on human drugs... It seemed ridiculous, though Dean had once given him a whole bottle to take. He wouldn't mind doing so again, but with the way his body was right now, that likely wasn't a good idea. So he'd just have to go along with what the nurses allowed him.

"Though Michael, you should really try to eat," his nurse insisted as she set a brown bag into his lap. "I know you're hurting a lot right now, but you'll feel better if you can get some food down."

Maybe she was right, but when Castiel stared at the bag, it seemed like a trial to even open it. Maybe if he just drank something... Slowly, he lifted his hand to push the bag open and reached inside to see what was there.

"There we go," the nurse encouraged him with a smile. "I'll be close-by in case you need anything."

At that point, she walked off, and he was left alone again. Maybe after he drank something, he could even see about getting some rest. Humans could sleep sitting up, couldn't they?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ pinging the drugged up angel. =) ]

Mikado found consciousness hard to come by. It came in waves, broke against his mind and settled back down, and he remembered waking up a few times before he actually did.

It was dark. Darker than it should have been, and his vision was narrowed-- It was only when he hesitantly raised a hand to his face, to his eye, to feel bandages and tape did it all slam into him with the force of a building falling. The reality of it, all of it.

"Please don't touch that, Kenta, dear. It's still healing."

Mikado could only turn a wide eye towards the woman who had appeared in his doorway, because this... They were just going to write this off as an injury he'd gotten? Like Mikado had heard from others. This was... Something they had done, they had--

He had the inexplicable urge to tear into the bandage and rip it away. To see if he could still see, even now. To go past that and tear at his eye, because behind it--

No. No. He needed to see if it was true. If any of what that man had said was true. The boy swallowed, and followed the woman where she led, attention only returning when she starting speaking again. "--aybe you two can keep each other company while you both heal, all right?" A bright smile, and then she nodded, leaving. Mikado was left to stare at an exhausted looking man in a wheelchair. Again, he was reminded of his own bandaging and fought the urge to touch it. "...H-hello."

By the time that someone had been brought over, once again by a nurse who had decided that someone in severe amounts of pain was good for conversation, Castiel had pulled the juice box out of the brown sack. Now he was trying to get the straw unwrapped, but it wasn't going well.

He glanced up as a stranger settled near him, but in this case he was fairly certain the boy wasn't new to this place. They didn't bring people in with wounds, as far as he was aware, and this human had bandages wrapped around his right eye.

Keeping each other company while they both healed -- Castiel didn't think that made sense even to humans. It was something the nurse had come up with, a justification for making them both suffer. Castiel sighed and glanced over at the stranger.

"Hello," he said, his voice strained from fatigue and pain. Should he ask what happened? He wouldn't mind explaining his own situation, but that might not apply to the boy. Maybe a more subtle form of asking, then. "Are you all right?"

The man seemed in worse shape than Mikado, his voice more exhausted than Mikado could recall being. Still, civilities slipped through his fingers, and for a moment, Mikado was only silent. Then dropped without prelude into one of the chairs situated nearby. A part of him pointed out the lack of polite greeting--the rest only filed it away to look at later.

The boy exhaled, pulling together parts of himself, then looked up. "I'm--" His hand went to his face without his meaning to, and he nearly jolted. "...I'm probably fine," he gave on a mutter. Probably because he wasn't bleeding or ill or hideous maimed-- He even had both his eyes, though whether he could use both was still--

He had an overwhelming urge to talk to Izaya suddenly, to see if he knew anything, because it had to be better than nothing at all. Nothing but what Mikado had been told. He swallowed, and glanced at the man again. "Are you, um. Doing okay?"

Probably fine, he said. Castiel didn't know how the boy could be uncertain of such a thing. Either you were fine, or you weren't. Since he didn't know, Castiel could only assume he wasn't, at least not completely. Either way, that form of questioning hadn't actually given him any details on what had happened to the stranger's eye, so he would have to give up on it for now.

The question was turned back on him, and he let out a sigh. "It depends on your definition. I was operated on last night, and while that fixed the major problem I suffered from, this recovery process is... trying." To say the least.

Finally, the plastic on the straw he'd been fiddling with came apart, and he was able to press it into the juice box. He lifted it up to his mouth and took a few sips, but almost immediately his stomach rebelled against him.

...The man answered bluntly in a way Mikado hadn't thought to consider. The boy's good eye widened further--Mikado leaned forward in an obvious way. Even he understood that, but-- "You were operated on last night, too?" Because, when you got down to it, that was what he had went through. There was someone like a doctor, and the precision of the equipment used....

Ahh, don't think about that now. It's possible that this man knew something more than Mikado did. "Ah, I'm Ryuugamine Mikado," he said quickly, bowing his head.

No, the boy misunderstood, and it wasn't as if Castiel had meant to drag information out of him in such a way. He'd been operated on, yes, but not by the institute. If the boy's eye had been toyed with, then the doctors here had to be responsible. As far as Castiel knew, most patients didn't want to discuss it. And now he'd led this stranger to think they had something in common when that wasn't the case.

"No, another patient operated on me," he clarified. He was too exhausted to try and pull together an apologetic look. He had a hard enough time getting this vessel to do what he wanted when he was at full strength; now it seemed impossible. "I was one of the infected." He lifted his hand to show the boy his hand, where the rash that had covered it was already fading.

Ryuugamine Mikado, he said. What a dramatic name. Castiel nodded to the other patient. "I am Castiel," he said.

Another... patient? Confusion slid across the boy's face obviously. It was possible that there were people with the skills needed for that here, yes, but the need for it escaped him. The further clarification given by the man was anything but. Infected? What did that even mean? The last Mikado knew some people were getting sick, but to call it something like that just seemed strange.

The man introduced himself in turn before Mikado could ask, and the boy nodded politely. Castiel. Another strange name. More like Tolten than Lily or Snow, but it was still something he had never heard before. Rather than repeat it to sound it out, Mikado questioned Castiel further. "You said... infected. What do you mean by that?"

How could the boy not know? Castiel frowned for a moment. He found it hard to believe that Ryuugamine would have been experimented on when he'd only been here a day, so how had he missed the news about the illness?

But Castiel's nausea had been growing steadily since the conversation started, and it was starting to reach a point where he felt like something bad was going to happen, though he didn't know exactly what. He didn't know how to read this body or the signs it gave him.

"It means... There are a group of us that fell ill," he said, hoping that he could distract himself from how awful he felt with conversation. "But it's no ordinary illness. Those who let it go untreated will eventually turn into a monster of some kind." He sucked in a breath, hoping that it would help with the nausea, but it didn't seem to do much good.

Day 66: Sun Room (Third Shift)

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