Day 64: Waiting Room/Lobby 2 (Fourth Shift)

[freewill]

The time spent with Izaya hadn't led to much, but that might have also been due to the fact that Castiel wasn't functioning at full energy. If he'd been sharper, if he hadn't had his body holding him back every step of the way, maybe he would have worked harder to try and get some information out of the other patient.

As it was, Castiel had spent most of the day dealing with aches and pains on random parts of his body. None of it seemed to follow any pattern, and the rash on his hand was still there, making itself obvious to the rest of the patient body. He was, to be frank, exhausted -- and while part of him wished to fight against that because angels weren't supposed to get tired, the other part felt this urge to lie down.

He remembered how Dean had explained to him that he needed a certain amount of sleep each night. He also remembered how it had annoyed him at the time, how he had seen it as a waste. He would have apologized to Dean for his ignorance now, if he could have.

While the idea had been to spend the last shift in the Sun Room so he could at least lay down and rest, the nurses had another plan for him. He was told instead that there were some visitors who had come to see them, and before he knew it he'd been placed in some sort of waiting room. Castiel remembered looking into this room once before, though it had been night at the time. Now he knew what its purpose was.

He stood there awkwardly for a few moments before his nurse urged him to take a seat. Castiel found a chair and settled himself onto it, but he couldn't relax. He placed a hand against his injured shoulder, prodding at it for a moment. Who would possibly want to come visit him? There were a few options, but he didn't want to jump to any conclusions.

Comments

[complicatedliar]

So it was to be a visitor.

Loki was not all that thrilled at the prospect, but at least he felt better prepared for this next nasty trick, after receiving the letter. Probably they would have spelled someone to look like Frigga, and she would try to feed him the same array of lies that had been in that letter.

He wasn't looking forward to this, not at all. But knowing that it wasn't real would make it easy. He just hoped whatever actress they threw his way wouldn't try to cry at him. He disliked being cried at on the principle of the thing.

Loki noticed Castiel and nodded to him as he passed by, then found a seat of his own. He crossed his legs neatly and waited, fingers drumming on his leg. After a moment, he took out his notebook and started working on the equations he'd promised to Rita.

[damned_visitors]

Chuck was, to say the least, anxious. It was surreal to realize that he hadn't actually seen his brother since before Lawrence had tried to kill himself. After hearing the news, Chuck had done his absolute best to get to his brother, had argued with anyone who gave him the chance to try and get permission to see him at the hospital, but in the end he'd been told that it wouldn't be safe, that he was some sort of "trigger."

Bullshit, was what he'd thought. It had killed him to not even have the chance to see his brother's face after everything, but even more than that, Chuck was plagued by the idea that he was somehow responsible for the suicide attempt. His parents had made it clear that he couldn't think of it that way, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.

Sheila was still dealing with the news as well, of course, and they had called off the wedding in light of what had happened. It wouldn't have been right to go through with it when his best man was out of commission. Of course, Chuck's hope was that Lawrence would one day be well enough that he could attend his wedding, but he and Sheila had decided to wait for him.

Supposedly, Lawrence had been on good behavior since his arrival at Landel's, and the staff had finally decided that he was in a decent enough mental state to be visited. Chuck had decided to on come on his own, to cut down on the amount of stress that Lawrence would be put under.

The room was mainly empty when he arrived, but Chuck spotted his brother almost immediately. He sucked in a breath, but didn't hesitate long before moving toward Lawrence. He felt like he should say something, but he wanted to see how his brother reacted first.

[complicatedliar]

No, this was much worse than some caricature of Frigga, Loki thought in a tiny, rational corner of his mind. Far worse.

He had not seen Thor since he'd dropped from the Bifrost, of course. But those few days had done nothing to cool the rage and jealousy that had driven him. And there was Odin's golden child again, of course here to taunt his imprisoned not-brother.

Loki found himself on his feet without any recollection of having stood. His head felt strange, as if someone had inflated it with helium and it was drifting away. His face had gone pale, eyes wide, mouth trapped in the stiff curve of a false smile.

No, he cautioned himself. No, patience. Rationality. Perhaps he could find out from this version of Thor something valuable. Thor was utter crap at lying, at the very least.

[damned_visitors]

While Chuck matched Thor in bulk and demeanor, his clothing was casual, and there was no sign of a suit of armor or his hammer. It was clear almost immediately, for that reason, that he was not exactly the same person.

He noticed the way that Lawrence's face twisted when he saw him, looking shocked and almost scared. Chuck knew his brother well enough to see that the smile on his face had been planted there, and realizing that hurt. Still, he knew he couldn't expect things to be exactly the same after everything that had happened.

Either way, it seemed that it would fall on his shoulders to speak first. As he closed the distance between them, Chuck reached out carefully and set a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Lawrence," he said, and the relief in his voice was clear. "I hope they told you ahead of time that I was coming."

[complicatedliar]

Loki looked down at the man's hand, then back up at his face. He had never cared for the way Thor was so free with his person, and the urge to shake that grip off was fierce.

Patience, he counseled himself. Patience. He wanted information. This was a means to get it. He was in the damnable position of weakness here, and had to play along for the time being.

But it really, really did not help that effort that Thor - or whatever he called himself, that fake name was like a sharp kick - was acting so bizarrely conciliatory. Because one thing was certain - Thor did really seem to think that Loki's name was Lawrence. He couldn't lie worth a damn, Loki knew that.

Patience.

Loki gritted his teeth and smiled pleasantly enough. "No, they hadn't."

[damned_visitors]

Lawrence had never been as openly physical as Chuck was, so he wasn't too surprised when grabbing his shoulder didn't develop into a hug or anything else. Chuck gave his brother's shoulder one last squeeze before pulling away and taking a seat.

It didn't make sense that they hadn't told Lawrence in advance, since he would have thought the institute would have wanted to brace him for such a surprise, but Chuck wasn't going to dwell on it too much. What mattered now was that the two of them were together again and he could see with his own eyes that his brother was at least well enough to talk to him.

Of course, it was difficult to know where to go from here. Perhaps giving news of what had happened after Lawrence had been hospitalized would make the most sense. "As you can probably guess, Sheila and I called off the wedding. We've all been worried sick," he said, raising his eyebrows for a moment before he frowned with concern.

Chuck wanted to believe that he and his brother could just have a quick talk and he could take him back home with him, but it was never that simple, was it?

[complicatedliar]

Loki sat down very gingerly, trying to recall the contents of the letter he'd received a few days ago. It was all based off of that lie, apparently.

Thor, who couldn't lie worth a damn, weaving an entire fabricated reality. Oh, but it made him angry. And he was sure that even here, Thor was the golden son. He'd certainly gotten that impression.

Play along. It was important to play along.

"Mother informed me via a letter," he heard himself say. His voice sounded very odd to his own ears.

Really, he just wanted to grab Thor by the collar, shake him, scream at him. Perhaps this time would be different, if they fought.

"Have you really." Lie, he thought. More lies. No one had ever worried about him. He was an object of ridicule.

[atrabilis]

[From here]

Aside from their consistency, visitations were elements not to be wholly trusted within the institute. They left behind a taste too bitter to swallow, to thick to digest. He had yet to analyze his poor fake sister, yet to consider a false brother, and had only pushed the deeper aspects out of reach for fear of what might come. Nigredo did not know why. Not fully, at least.

Despite the misgivings, he could not reject the staff's call. In the end, the boy parted with Renamon for the chance to meet another recognized and unknown. Would it be Citrine this time? Rubedo? Someone else in the form of his memory? If humor was more appropriate, he might have taken bets.

Instead, Nigredo sat upon his assigned seat and stared grudgingly at the door. Whoever it happen to be, they should come in quickly.

[damned_visitors]

Jon had pressed at him not to go. It was none of their business in the end, and assuredly the child had family to visit him. Cris had only looked at Jonathan softly and shook his head, and the other relented--both knew that that family was anything but close, and at any rate-- Hadn’t the reminder of that family moved away after the incident? The pair had never really interacted with the twins for any long period of time, and the only one they knew on sight was the red-head, but he had since been released. It was the youngest, the one most injured from the incident, that Cris was concerned about.

Cris stared at Jonathan, and the other got their coats.

And that was how they ended up here, at Landel’s Institute, visiting a child they barely knew. Even the name was beyond them, only learned when they looked into visiting, and the receptionist proved it after a point. Still, it didn’t matter. That child was likely alone, and any friendly faces might help to put him at ease. Sometimes just knowing you had a friend made things easier.

So Cris walked in with a friendly face and quiet expression, moving with assurance to where the boy was sitting, and Jonathan trailed after, holding a potted ivy somewhat awkwardly in his hands. Hair fell into his eyes, and he lifted his chin to tilt them clear.

Cris stopped and leaned down, holding out a hand to shake. “Hey, you. How are you doing?”

Behind him, Jonathan angled his eyes away, before coughing out a short, “Hello.”

[atrabilis]

Disbelief flared when an adult pair with clashing physical features approached Nigredo. One carried what looked to be a pot of ivy (Hedera algeriensis, his mind supplied) while the other offered a hand in salutation. Gold eyes, aqua eyes, light and dark skin--neither was cut from his memory.

Their voices, however, contained traces of familiarity. For this reason alone, he found he could not turn them away.

The U.R.T.V. bit his lip, uncertain of what to make of this development. "Hello," Nigredo said as he awkwardly took the extended hand. His eyes flickered between the males. "I, um, apologize, but do I know you?"

[damned_visitors]

Nigel was polite, even when he was confused. And he had a right to be, Jonathan thought. They had never been introduced. Again, he wondered why they had come here.

But nearly opposite, Cris smiled kindly. "You do and you don't, but I'd like us to be friends, if you want."

Seemingly fed up with holding the plant, Jon walked forward to place it on the low table nearby. He turned, shifting a hand through his hair. "We were the ones who found you. After everything that happened. You and the red-haired one." The white one--Alan--had vanished, found later, they read. What they couldn't know was that the red-head took off as well, but full of guilt, returned later, to find Nigel a mess from what had happened. Cris and Jon came in response to the gunshots in screams after calling the police, and found Nigel bleeding and unconscious, and his brother--what was his name?--sobbing over him.

It was a horrible situation for children to be in. Harbingers of a tumultuous fate.

"We're your neighbors," Cris went on, in a tone unjudging and only supportive. "If you need anything, I want you to let us know. All right?"

[atrabilis]

The ones who found him? "After everything..." Nigredo trailed off, confusing easing into contemplation. The basics presented were entirely too familiar, and if they would mention the false Rubedo, then perhaps--

Oh. If the falsities presented in the institute reflected their previous lives, there existed a single match. His condition at the time had prevented any visual contact from being made, but he had known from the voices that he and Rubedo had been found on Miltia that day. And those voices belonged to these two gentlemen.

Setting Miltia aside (which was swallowed down and away), this visitation had grown three times in its oddity. This became especially true as the smaller male showed a nonjudgmental and compassionate front. Frankly, it was weird.

"Er, thank you," Nigredo replied awkwardly. He recognized his tone and went to clear his throat. "I appreciate it." I guess. Very few people simply handed friendship to him, after all.

[damned_visitors]

Poor child. It seemed like compassion wasn't something he often received. While Jonathan stood where he was, arms crossed and now silent, Cris moved to a chair opposite and placed a hand on the back of it. "Not a problem. Is it okay if we sit down here with you? If we're bothering you, you can ask us to leave. We won't mind," he added with a small smile. Certainly Cris wouldn't mind, but Jon was already bothered by being here. Basically it couldn't get any worse. The man sighed softly.

After the child's acquiesce, Cris sat down carefully, hands folding languidly in his lap. "I know you don't know us, but we've kept you in our thoughts this past month. I wanted to check on you." He gave a friendly smile, then glanced Nigel over. "It looks like your injuries have healed, huh? Bet that was the easiest part of all of this."

[madeinthehrl]

Soma had spent the last shift asleep. Part of her had wanted to watch the movie, if only to get a general idea of what 1970s moviemaking had been up to (and there was that conversation with Honey in the back of her mind, the one about never really having seen a movie before), but she might have passed out halfway through it anyway. The mighty supersoldier, taken out by a head cold.

Her nurse had woken her up after the shift change, because apparently she'd slept through the intercom, and told her she had a visitor. That, if anything, only made her feel worse.

She pulled on a sweatshirt and followed the woman out the door and down the hall, her mind whirling with possibilities. Was it Senna? Or another one of her friends, trying to make her feel better? Or a member of her "family" again? It had been exhausting enough pretending to be Maria for her therapist. She wasn't sure she'd be able to do it again.

Still, her tense posture relaxed slightly when she spotted Lingormr a short distance away, and Castiel nearby. If she was going to have to go through this, it helped that she had friends nearby.

[damned_visitors]

It was with a certain degree of trepidation that Stefan approached the visitor waiting room this afternoon. The last time he'd come by, things had... been awkward, at least. A little disheartening, too - which is why he hadn't come back for the last few weeks. But Hilary had reminded him that even if it was hard on him, it would be good for Maria - and right now, she was what mattered. And he did miss her, when it came down to it, even as uncertain as he felt about dealing with this whole situation right now.

So when he came into the waiting room and spotted his daughter, he gave her a small, but genuine smile, and headed over towards her.

[madeinthehrl]

Lingormr's visitor was the first to arrive, and Soma watched with growing concern as her friend shot to his feet, paling noticeably at the sight of the tall blond man. She'd warned him, or she'd tried, but really, there was no preparing for things like this. She wondered who his visitor was--someone from his village, almost certainly. Hopefully, there wouldn't be trouble. She'd be more than willing to lend a hand if it came to blows, but she doubted the nurses would understand.

Filing that thought away for later, Soma returned her attention to the door just in time to see the lieutenant colonel walk through it.

She tried to ignore the feeling of her heart dropping into her stomach--as if this hadn't been bad enough the first time--and forced herself to focus. Returning the smile came first. That was the easy part. It was good to see him, even if something inside her twisted at how he didn't really recognize her anymore. At least he was otherwise unharmed.

"I didn't think you'd come," she said quietly, but there was no accusation in her voice. "I'm glad you did."

[damned_visitors]

He knew she hadn't meant it as an accusation, but he could still feel that small stab of guilt anyway as he took a seat across from her. The smile fell a little, apologetic now. "I'm sorry. I should have come sooner." No excuses were offered - he knew they'd be poor lies, and he couldn't quite bear to admit the truth to his daughter.

"How have you been?"

[madeinthehrl]

"Better," she said simply. "I've made some new friends here."

One of whom was currently looking increasingly distressed, but she didn't dare draw attention that fact. She could always ask Lingormr later.

"Anyway," she added, "you know I'd much rather be at home. How are Mother and Alexei doing? I hope he's enjoying his internship."

Lies were supposed to be easier the second time around, weren't they? These weren't. But she widened her smile a little and kept her back straight anyway. She wasn't much of a liar, but if she told him what he wanted to hear, maybe he wouldn't notice.

[damned_visitors]

Stefan hoped that her new friends were actually helping, rather than just feeding her delusions - but he didn't want to push too much. She'd been so withdrawn after the accident. Even this much was some improvement, even if he knew deep inside he was grasping at straws.

The fact that she'd brought up the rest of the family before he did was a good sign, though. His smile softened, wasn't quite so forced. "He is, though I feel like he's barely ever at home these days. They both miss you too, though."

For Castiel

[damned_visitors]

It wasn’t long before his first visitor came in – Eric Derringer was leaning on the doorway, hitting up one of the cuter nurses and he was about two seconds away from getting her number and a smile when he caught sight of Michael Collins. A slow grin spread over Eric’s face as he turned, whispered something in the chick’s ear, and then started heading right for him. For once he was dressed semi-presentable – he hadn’t just thrown on yesterday’s shirt from the floor, for starters, and ever since the accident, he’d had to reconsider how he wanted to roll with the whole pants thing. Eric had a slight limp as he headed toward Michael, the reason why becoming crystal clear as the nurse he was walking with stepped back to usher in another visitor.

He was missing his leg.

It took some getting used to with the whole prosthesis thing, and Eric would try to cheer himself up by saying he was halfway to going Terminator with it. Eric dropped down onto the seat across from Michael with a grunt under his breath. He grinned as he unconsciously rubbed at where his leg met his prosthesis.

“Hey,” he said, resisting the urge to look around at all the other patients. Eric flashed him a big grin. “So they got a release date for you yet?”

After all this time, he was hoping they did. Michael was a great guy and Eric didn’t think he should be parked here longer than he totally had to. If it wasn’t for him, he probably would’ve lost more than his leg. This was past just being buddies in the Game Room or comparing lunches in the cafeteria.

[freewill]

Before anyone arrived for him, Castiel watched as both Soma and Lingormr entered the room. In fact, that boy he'd spoken to once in the Game Room was also present, and all three of them were met by someone before anyone he knew walked through the door. While Castiel was curious to know what relation all of them had to those who had come to visit, that was clearly something he would have to ask about later.

A nurse stepped in through the door, and who followed in after her was unmistakable. Castiel straightened in his seat, for a split second thinking that Dean had been here this whole time and they'd somehow just missed each other.

But he would be fooling himself if he assumed that, and it was the odd way Dean was walking that stood out to him first. Castiel flashed back to the last night he'd seen Dean, when the bus had crashed and those dogs had attacked them. One had been trying to rip at Dean's leg, hadn't it? And apparently, this had been the result.

He stared in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process the fact that the man walking toward him now wasn't Dean at all. Or it was him, but his mind had been stolen. Castiel's hands twitched as he realized that all he wanted to do in that moment was heal him -- give him his leg back, restore his memories, and take them out of this place. And yet he couldn't do even one of those things.

As Dean sat down, Castiel stared across the table at him, not quite sure what to say. He seemed so happy, so unburdened. In the end, Castiel was only able to say one thing, even though it wasn't the name this man was going to respond to. "Dean."

[damned_visitors]

The truth of it was, Matthew was here with...a certain amount of reluctance, let's put it that way. It wasn't anything. It would just be awkward and it was human nature to have a desire to avoid awkward confrontations. He wasn't referring only to visiting Michael, either; the sheer fact that he'd be setting foot in this place again, it didn't settle him too well.

But he was here. Of course he'd be here. Michael had taken the time out to come visit him all those weeks back and Matthew wasn't gonna just ignore that. They weren't friends, but they had a. Relationship.

Rick was already there when Matthew walked into the room the nurse directed him to. That was surprising, his brother being on time for once, though he knew that wasn't fair. Things had changed after they'd left and he had to admit, they'd gotten better.

As he approached, he offered a friendly polite smile. He hung his jacket on the back of the chair.

"Hey, Michael."

[damned_visitors]

Okay, so that wasn't the name Eric wanted to hear - either he'd surprised Michael that bad it just popped out on its own or Michael wasn't doing much better than before. Eric was saved from that awkwardness by the fact that his brother decided to show up, hitting them both with what Eric called that "lawyer-in-training" smile in his head. Seriously, look at it. Way too polite, like they weren't both back in the crazy house and this wasn't totally weird at all.

Eric decided he might as well start this off since for once he'd beat his brother anywhere. He leaned back in his chair, reached down to adjust the prosthetic, and then launched into it.

"They talking release dates with you yet?" Eric decided he might as well aim high, even if he was kinda worried about Michael calling him "Dean". As much as he wished he was some super badass ghost hunter, he'd rather stick to his day job. These days he decided he wanted to live past forty if he could. Hell, he'd even stopped sleeping around whenever he could. And here he'd thought this program didn't work at all.

Even if he was still working things out with Matt here. Eric figured that might take longer.

But y'know what, this was about trying to show Michael some support, not bitching about family relationship crap, and it was definitely one of those times he wished the nurses weren't such hot hardasses. He would've loved to drop a six-pack in Michael's lap. The guy looked like he needed it.

[freewill]

As if seeing Dean in this state hadn't been enough, Sam followed soon after. Of course, one Winchester couldn't go far without the other trailing after, even while brainwashed, but Castiel still managed to feel shock as he took in the well-pressed clothes that Sam was wearing. It was the sort of thing he'd have put on when he was pretending to be someone else, and in a way that was exactly what was taking place here.

This should have been what he wanted -- the three of them together again -- but just like when they had been here with him in the institute, it wasn't exactly right. In fact, this was worse. While their timelines hadn't matched here, at least Sam and Dean had known the truth. Now they were slaves to what this place had done to them.

It didn't inspire much faith, either. If the people behind all this had managed to break both Sam and Dean's minds, then chances were they could get to anyone. He had even been convinced he was "Michael Collins" for a day, after all.

He nodded to Sam, trying to be amiable even though his thoughts were going in ten different directions. Right now, they didn't know how wrong this all was, and lashing out at them wouldn't do much good. It would make more sense to try and get some sort of information out of them, if possible.

Dean seemed to be worried about when he would be getting out, and somehow that was appropriate. Castiel turned toward him, his mouth pinched at the edges. "They don't tell me much," he admitted. His gaze dipped down to Dean's pant leg. It was impossible to ignore. "What happened?" What sort of story would Dean's brainwashed mind have concocted? He needed to know.

[damned_visitors]

Matthew's gaze lingered a bit on his brother's leg, but otherwise returned to Michael. He let Rick take over the conversation. He knew Rick had gotten closer to the detective in the institute and the truth was, to Matthew, Michael had been more an associate than a friend.

Even if he supposed they'd gone through something together. A part of him couldn't help feeling a little guilty about it, like it was his fault he'd dragged the guy into this. He knew it wasn't; he'd asked for his help with the case, that was all. Still. He could remember Michael being completely fine one moment, coming to visit him and getting him to snap out of it. Now the tables had flipped.

Matthew's expression turned questioning when Michael spoke up, half-concerned and half-surprised.

"You don't remember?"

Eric had told him Michael had been there.