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.

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[damned_visitors]

At this point, Chuck had completely lost track of what his brother was trying to argue. How had he ever hampered his success? He'd only ever wanted the best for Lawrence, and yet somehow the man had never been happy despite that.

"I'm not taunting you," he said with a frown. "Why would you assume that? Do you really think I would have come all this way to taunt you?" Chuck moved forward and placed his hands on either of Lawrence's shoulders.

"Please, I want to help you. Why won't you believe that?" Even if his brother was telling him to leave, Chuck was stubborn by nature, and he wasn't going to let this fall apart that easily.

[complicatedliar]

For a moment Loki stared at Thor, eyes gone wide. His brother seemed so earnest - how was that even possible?

It wasn't of course. It was a trick. It was just one more lie, one more thing they wanted to feed him, use him, make him into a tool. Thor was part of that, always, made greater by having Loki in his shadow. "Such sentiment," he whispered.

The proximity was too much, too much temptation and too much of a mockery.

Loki bowed his head, one hand subtly slipping into his pocket, finding his pen and pushing the cap off with his thumb. In a lightning fast motion, he pulled the pen from his pocket and jammed it into his brother's side, hard enough to punch through clothing and into flesh.

"I'll not be fooled by you again," he hissed. "Not by your and not by your father! I will no longer stand in your shadow and I won't be bullied!"

[damned_visitors]

When Lawrence whispered something, Chuck frowned, not having caught his words completely. He tried to pull forward, so that he could ask his brother to repeat himself, but that was when the unexpected happened.

Something sharp and thin jabbed through his shirt and then into his torso, causing pain to explode from the impact point. Instinct forced Chuck to jerk away and he ended up stumbling into the seat he'd been occupying earlier. Completely overwhelmed, he stared down at his shirt, which was quickly staining red with blood, and then looked up at Lawrence. Confusion and betrayal shone in his eyes.

"What--"

The nurses didn't take long to respond, rushing over with sedatives so that they could contain the rowdy patient. Chuck watched them with a detached stare, swallowing around the fear and disappointment in his throat as he realized just how far his brother had fallen. He wanted to say something -- about how he was fine, about how they didn't need to punish him -- but he couldn't form the words.

[complicatedliar]

It didn't really feel like triumph. Loki stared at Thor, at the blood staining his shirt, eyes gone wide. Thor really ought to be attacking him just now, he thought. And it was likely a fight he'd lose, but it would be uncomplicated, less enraging and difficult than this apparent lie of sympathy.

It had to be a lie, right? It made no sense otherwise.

Loki should have expected what happened next, but he wasn't in the most rational of places. The orderlies grabbed him, and he did struggle at first, glaring at Thor the entire time as he shouted, "Unhand me!"

Then he realized that he still had his game to play here, one that he had probably damaged very badly by letting Thor upset him so much. He blamed his brother for that as well. Loki stopped struggling even before the needle with its load of sedatives slid home.

Then things went a bit funny, and it was difficult to be angry while in that state.

[damned_visitors]

It all happened so fast that Chuck was barely able to react, not to mention being distracted by his own wound. He'd gotten worse injuries while playing football, but the blood and the knowledge that it was his own brother who had hurt him like this was making him feel dizzy.

Lawrence's yelling echoed through his head as Chuck watched him get pulled away, saw his eyes cloud over as the sedative took hold.

A nurse came up once the room had been cleared to offer him assistance. Chuck wanted to yell at her and demand to know why they hadn't been able to fix his brother, but he knew that would get him nowhere. Hand pressed tight against the wound, he stood from his chair and went to get treated.

He would just have to come back another time. He wasn't giving up that easily, no matter what Lawrence said.