damned_institute | Day 58: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

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Day 58: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

By the time that breakfast had ended, Michael didn't really know what to think.

The good part of him -- the part that went to church every Sunday and prayed that he could find justice for his clients -- wanted to feel for those two boys. They were going through Hell (and not the literal kind that they were thinking of) and he really did hold out hope that they would get their acts together. But the rest of him wanted to forget all about them and focus on himself. They weren't his responsibility anymore, now that the case had been dropped. The very idea of a killer had been a fantasy, after all. It wasn't his job to worry about them.

He certainly wasn't some guardian angel, either. He had never signed up for that and he had no idea why his mind had decided that was the case. Figuring that out was probably his key to getting healthy again, but it seemed like an uphill journey at this point.

Either way, it was good to get away from Matt and Eric. He needed some breathing room, some time to just let his mind clear out all of that crazy angel and demon stuff. Being religious was one thing; this was another, and he knew it wasn't right. He tried not to think about what his parents probably thought of him, but for all he knew they weren't even aware that he was here. In fact, Michael couldn't even remember who had admitted him. It was possible he'd just brought himself here.

A shower sounded like a real blessing, though, and he didn't hesitate to strip out of the uniform and find shelter under the hot spray of one of the shower heads. It was definitely more than just washing off; it felt like a cleansing experience, like he was scrubbing the very idea of Castiel out of his skin. He knew it wasn't that easy, that he could relapse at any point, and yet he tried anyway.

However, once he'd washed his body and shampooed his hair, he realized that he needed to give up the shower space for someone else who might need it. As much as he would have liked to spend the entire shift there, he did the right thing and went back to get dressed once he was finished, heading out into the Sun Room on a soldier's heels.

[To here.]

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Max woke up here again. Again. As hazy and indistinct as his thoughts were, he could think back and remember that this wasn't the first time he'd been lucid. He'd broken through his delusions before, remembered who he really was... but then he'd gone right back into them, it seems. Relapsed.

And now, he was back again. He was himself, again. This was not as much of a comfort to him as he might have thought. Max Vyer was far less capable of dealing with any of this than Admiral ZEX, and he was told that that was why he'd come up with the whole delusional persona in the first place, but right now he didn't like the alternative. He was still in this horrible hospital, the guards were jerks, he didn't like all these new rules or any rules in general, his head hurt and now he had to take a shower with a bunch of other guys and he didn't want to do that either. ZEX would have enjoyed it, but it just made Max feel... uncomfortable. Way too uncomfortable.

Max undressed, hesitantly, staring at all the scratches and cuts and gashes he'd somehow inflicted on himself over the past days or so (invisible creatures, according to ZEX, which didn't make any sense) and started the unenviable task of cleaning himself. Soap in all of them was not going to be fun. He still wasn't sure what to do about the... eye thing, either. He really didn't like thinking about the fact he only had one eye now.

He was standing next to another guy here... Max tried not to look at him for very long. ZEX would have savored it... this would have been much easier if he was still crazy.

"Uh... how's it going?" Max said, then immediately regretted it.

Suddenly being addressed like he was in the cafeteria sitting down to a meal rather than washing off his naked body was, to say the least, still a startling thing to go through for Peter. He'd always tried to avoid this kind of stuff back during gym activities back in high school, after all.

And really, he did his best not to think too hard on those four years of his teenage life.

He just wasn't the sort of person who could be rude, though, and so after a pause he turned to the person who'd spoken up. What he saw was a man with pale blond hair and a whole plethora of injuries. What stood out most was the patch over his eye. While it could be due to something as simple as eye strain, Peter couldn't help but wonder if it was worse than that. In fact, the nurse in him was more or less itching to see to the man's wounds, and when looking at someone else's body from that perspective, he wasn't awkward at all.

"Uhh, fine," he said when he realized that he hadn't even replied to the man's greeting yet. He angled his shoulders under the shower head to wash the soap off of them and tried not to be too obvious about cataloging the stranger's wounds.

"Are you... all right?" he asked after a pause. It might not have been the smoothest way to check, but it wasn't something he could ignore either.

Oh god, why did he even say that? Now this guy probably thought he was a weirdo or something. He'd have to try and play it cool, like there wasn't anything going on here. Since there wasn't anything going on, as Max made a very determined effort to not look at his shower buddy for more than a few seconds at a time.

"What do you mean?" Oh god, he already thought he was a freak. Why was he talking to someone in the shower? The guy gave him a look-over even, not that he was interested. Probably. No, definitely not. Maybe he had a different reason, something else... he had to be looking at him for another reason. Like...

He winced as he brushed a hand over a square gash in his upper arm. There, that'd be a good reason to stare at someone, right? If they were covered with a bunch of really weird scratches and stuff? "Uh, do you mean these?" Max gestured vaguely at some of the scratches across his face and arms. "Uh, I guess they're not serious. I used to think these invisible monster things were doing them, hee hee." Giggling stupidly and nervously and why did he say that? It just came out of him, why was he even talking about this? Christ, what was wrong with him? Oversharing on a plane or bus was one thing but this was a shower, for god's sake.

For a moment, Peter felt kind of bad. Was it just him, or was this guy extremely skittish? For a second he felt guilty for starting a conversation in the first place, until he realized that -- wait, he hadn't even started it. That just made things even more confusing, since why would the stranger have spoken up if he didn't want to talk?

Or maybe he had just been taken aback by Peter asking about his wounds so directly. He realized how that might come off as weird if someone didn't know about his profession, but was there really anything bad about expressing concern about someone else?

Though it was the explanation about the wounds themselves that boggled Peter the most. Invisible monsters? Peter was pretty sure that most of the monsters around here were pretty damn visible, so he was trying to figure out if this guy had run across something else (a creature that was impossible to see didn't sound that insane, after all) or if he was doubting his own sanity.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a frown as he idly started to gather some of the offered shampoo into his hands. "There are monsters out there that you can't see? I've never run into anything like that." The wounds didn't seem extremely serious or anything, but the guy may have just gotten off easy for all Peter knew.

God, this guy probably thought he was crazy now. Not that he hadn't been the past couple weeks, and actually, this guy was probably crazy himself considering where they all were, but Max still felt self-conscious about it. This was a lot harder to do without ZEX's confidence behind him.

"Oh, you know..." Max tried to sound nonchalant, glancing at him every now and then for a brief second. Just to see what he was doing. "Just, uh, these... I don't know." This was sort of hard to explain, now that he thought about it. "It's like these 'creatures from another dimension' or something." He laughed nervously, to show how ridiculous he thought he sounded and to hopefully reassure this guy that he wasn't totally insane. "I can't see them or anything, but at night I get convinced they're attacking me, and..." He gestured vaguely at himself. "This sort of thing happens, you know. Hopefully it'll stop soon."

Nothing to worry about here. Max wasn't crazy, after all.

Peter was having a pretty tough time reading this situation, which was rare for him. It was hard to tell where this other patient was coming from. He was so nervous, so uncertain about everything he said, like he was reevaluating each word that came out of his mouth. Peter did his best to focus on his shower while still carrying on the conversation, though he had to admit he was more concerned with this other patient than his own hygiene at the moment.

Invisible monsters. That didn't really fit into anything that he'd seen and the wounds didn't match up with the snarling claws and teeth that were the norm here. Peter also hadn't seen anyone else with scratches quite like that, and he almost had to wonder if self-harm was involved.

"This sort of thing happens, you know." But did it, really?

"Well," he said after a pause, "did you need help dealing with these monsters?" Peter figured it was best to take it as a real threat for now, seeing how most people who saw things (or didn't, in this case) in this place weren't imagining it. "I don't know how much I can do, but it doesn't seem like the sort of thing you should handle alone," he continued as he started to work some shampoo into his hair. Peter didn't know if the man had other friends who were looking out for him, but there was nothing wrong with offering another hand.

God, he hoped this guy didn't think he was totally insane. Who would have thought that being in a mental hospital for this long would make holding a conversation this hard? If anything else, it reminded him that he needed to get out of here. Maybe if he told some of the doctors that he was feeling better...

"Help?" Max was a little surprised at the offer at first. He hadn't been expecting much except a roll of the eyes, but this guy was offering to help him! Even though from what he remembered of the past days, there was nothing that could be done to stop... whatever it was that was happening, he wasn't about to turn the offer down. He'd feel so much better if he had someone to lean on! "Oh, I'd love some help! That'd be great, thanks a lot." A moment. "Oh, uh, my name is Max. What's yours?" If they were going to be friends from now on he should probably know the other guy's name after all.

For some reason, Peter hadn't expected the answer to be yes. A lot of patients here seemed to feel like they had to handle all of their problems on their own instead of reaching out to their fellow prisoners. That hardly meant that he had made an empty offer, though. If anything, he was glad to have the chance to actually make a difference in someone else's life.

Max was the name. That was normal enough. With how many other strange titles that he'd heard here, it almost stood out more for being so ordinary. "I'm Peter," he replied with a small smile as he started to rinse the shampoo out. This conversation had gotten a little less awkward, at least. "So, what can I do to help? Is there some way to make these things leave you alone?" Chances were that Max didn't know or he would have done something about it already, but Peter was determined to get to the bottom of this if he could.

Fantastic. Max already felt better having someone to lean on. Not take care of him exactly per se, but he always felt better when he wasn't alone.

"Peter, that's nice. Hi." That sounded normal enough. Most of the other people here were probably still crazy, and while Max wasn't about to turn down anyone's offer of company, it was probably better to get involved with someone who had some idea of what was actually going on. "Uh... I'm not sure, really." That was harder to admit than he would have thought. He didn't want to dissuade Peter so early on, after all! But he really wasn't quite sure what to do. "They usually get worse at night... that's when they can cut me up like this." Or rather, Max did something to himself and told himself that things were cutting him up, since invisible monsters didn't exist. But he had to admit he didn't really have a better explanation. "During the day they just sort of... bother me, I guess."

Max hoped he didn't seem too desperate, but having a new friend would do wonders for his current insecurity. "But I don't know, I haven't been lucid like this for a while... maybe that'll make a difference?" Maybe.

Monsters that were bothering Max and get violent at night -- it all sounded like it had to do with the mutated creatures that wandered the halls, and yet it didn't quite make sense at the same time. Especially since they weren't supposed to be around at all during the day and Max was talking about being "lucid."

Peter hadn't really thought about it before, but it almost made sense. Most of them were perfectly sane, but when there was such a large variety of patients, it only stood to reason that a few here or there were really crazy. Which was a sad fact to realize, but at least he was trying to help now.

"Maybe I could drop by and see you tonight, then? They might not bother you as much if someone else is around. And I could clean your wounds up a little too." The scratches weren't all that bad, but there was nothing wrong with giving them a little extra care to prevent infection.

Max was trying to figure out any other way he could have explained what was going on, perhaps a way that wouldn't have made him sound like a lunatic (although to be fair, he did believe he was an alien from outer space only yesterday), but then Peter cut him off midthought.

"Oh, yes! That'd be wonderful!" Max blurted out without even thinking about what he was saying or if he should temper his enthusiasm. He then tried to compose himself, and also try and pinpoint exactly why he'd felt quite so excited. No doubt because of the prospect of a new companion, right? "I have a lot of trouble at night... and a lot of the people I used to spend time with have... disappeared." With a not-too-subtle sigh. "And I'd love to get these taken care of! They sting like crazy. The nurses don't even seem to see them anymore." And he pouted at that. If he remembered right, even his therapist hadn't believed him about his missing eye! What was wrong with the people here?

"It's enough to make you think you're crazy..." Well that was a bad joke, and a stupid thing to say, so Max tried to laugh it off. He was making a great first impression today, that was for sure.

More genuine excitement. It was the sort of thing that Peter could never get sick of. There was nothing quite like being appreciated, and he hadn't even done anything yet except for offer his help. It wasn't that others hadn't been grateful to him before, but most of the time they weren't this exuberant about it. It was a nice change.

He knew what it was like to keep losing friends and he shot Max an understanding glance as he washed the last of the shampoo out of his hair. It was remarkable how much better he felt after washing off, although this conversation certainly helped his mood too. Who would have thought that having a chat in the showers would turn out to be so fruitful?

"They might just think that you're doing it to yourself and aren't dealing with it properly because of that. I don't know why that should make them less inclined to help you, but..." There was also the fact that the military didn't seem quite as interested in caring for their wounds when compared to the nursing staff. That was one thing to miss. "Anyway, what's your room number? I'll swing by first thing once the doors open."

Peter didn't seem too weirded out yet, thank god. Max was beyond relieved. He thought he'd been screwing up this conversation the whole time, but apparently not quite enough to drive him away! Maybe his luck was changing, a little.

And for a conversation in the shower, it wasn't as awkward as it could have been. If he'd still thought he was ZEX, then things would have probably gone a lot worse. Although he probably wouldn't have felt as selfconscious as he still did, at least.

"Yeah, maybe..." Max was sure he wasn't doing it to himself, but he didn't really have any other explanation that made sense. The fact it only seemed to be happening to him didn't really help. "I don't really know how anything around here works anymore..." It hadn't been like this the last time he'd 'woken up'... but he'd be okay, no doubt. If he kept people around him anyway. "My room is M66!" It was much more pleasant to think about meeting a friend later than what the deal with this entire place was. "Uh, what's yours? In case something comes up, or something..." You never know, and what could it hurt, really?

Max wasn't alone in not knowing how things worked in this place. It seemed like mystery after mystery piled up here, to the point that Peter had just decided to give up on puzzling through most of it. He'd never been the best at that analytical kind of stuff, anyway. For now, it was best to stick to the basics, which for the moment meant helping Max.

Because when it came down to it, Peter could never turn away from someone who was in need. Even if all it turned out to be was the guy clawing at his own face, that was still something that should be addressed. And if it was more than that, then Peter wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"M66, got it. Mine's M24, but don't worry, I'll come to you." It's not like it was far to go. Nathan's room was in that block at one point, so Peter knew exactly how to get there. With that important bit of information exchanged, though, it seemed like the shift was wrapping up and they were both going to need to dry off and get changed. "I'll see you tonight, Max," Peter said as he turned off his shower head, giving the other man a wave and then heading back to the changing area.

"Great! I can't wait to see you." Max hoped he didn't sound too excited at the idea. He just really didn't want to deal with the night alone, particularly when he was like this... whatever it was that happened when it got dark, he'd do better with someone else around. Ideally it'd be someone he knew a little better, but he'd take what he could get.

"See you later..." A little late, and probably unnecessary, but oh well. Peter probably wouldn't mind. Max went to get dry himself, which was going to be a frustrating process if the tenderness of his many scratches was any indication. At least the night was one thing he didn't have to worry about now!

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Day 58: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

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