Night 59: Front Desk (Medical Wing)

[dualistic]

[From here.]

The second that Harvey was certain that both he and Jones had cleared the door, he slammed it behind him. Part of him was tempted to lean against it, but he realized that whatever was on their tail might stick its claws right through the door and that would not end well on his end. As much as his body was asking him to rest (and it shouldn't have been after that small amount of exertion, but he didn't hold up as well as he used to), he knew that they couldn't stick around here.

There wasn't much point in asking Jones if he was all right. The guy was still standing and that was good enough for Harvey. Besides, before Harvey could catch his breath or ask the other man anything, he heard a scratching from the other side of the door. Whatever was chasing them didn't seem to be strong enough to come crashing through, but that might change if it got ravenous enough.

"We've gotta keep moving," he said through harsh breaths. "Where next?" There didn't seem to be a lot of options, but Harvey could only see so far with his flashlight.

Comments

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Indy half-ran, half-stumbled through the door with Dent's fingers still gripping his collar. Dent got the door shut behind them, which bought Indy about three seconds to think about the sharp uptick in pain he was experiencing (his arm was fine; it was where it connected to his battered shoulder and back and his hole-punched chest that were the problem) before the ominous animal noises resumed. The door no longer locked.

"I went to the left last night," he told Dent. His breath was ragged too. "Nothing worth seeing there. Let's keep going straight and duck into one of the rooms if it gets through."

And hope the door they picked was unlocked, Indy realized belatedly, but by that time he was already hurrying ahead.

[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1195171.html)]

[touchedgod.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1192183.html?thread=81194231#t81194231).]

He knew fuck all about Angels. There hadn't been time to ask how the move, how they communicated, or what they needed for survival. It had been getting weaker, or at least running out of bottles and skeletons, and Billy would have helped it if it were all realistic. He had a feeling that simply rolling a large jar towards it would have been a useless gesture. It'll be fine, he told himself. He inhaled, and reasoned with himself. Whatever the Angel was, what he knew it was, it would persist. It would not be hurt, not really. Billy would die and the Angel would exist as long as its museum did. Billy was only one exhibit among many.

It didn't comfort him, but it eased him. He edged into the new room, cast his torch so that the beam of light would catch any obvious skulkers. Although it seemed empty, Billy kept his back to the wall and his eyes alert. He didn't look at the Doctor's entrance, but trusted he'd follow. Billy's eyes were glued to the dark corners his beam of light wouldn't penetrate.

"What's going on?" he asked, because that was the sort of thing you asked in this situation of this particular person. Billy was so optimistic that he thought he'd be sick.

[timedork]

The Doctor followed the other man in, closing the door behind them to make sure the monsters stayed on the other side—but it was no good. The door wouldn't stay fully closed unless he held it in place; it seemed whoever had come this way before them had done a number to the lock.

Even so, they were safe—for the time being. He couldn't hear any sounds coming from the other side of the door, but a little extra precaution... well, it couldn't hurt.

He was reaching into his coat for his sonic screwdriver when the man who'd run with him asked a question. The Doctor looked over his shoulder towards him as he finished fishing out the screwdriver.

"Tonight,?" he asked, with a grin that was probably wider than it should have been considering they'd just been running for their lives. "If it's tonight, I'm not sure exactly—well, not sure yet. Something's going on; that's for sure, but the particulars—well... There are a few more monsters out than usual, that much is certain; might've had something to do with that alert..." And then there was also that glow...

He turned his attention to the screwdriver momentarily, fiddling with the settings and then pointing it at the lock. After a long burst from the sonic, he gingerly released his hold on the door—and it stayed in place. So far, so good; the lock was in bad shape, but at least it was holding.

Screwdriver still in hand, he turned away from the door and towards the man to finish answering. "Other than that...... Just the usual, isn't it?"