Scar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
envy_the_sinners) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2012-07-19 01:40 am
envy_the_sinners) wrote in damned_institute2012-07-19 01:40 am
DAY 65: Breakfast
Scar came to slowly, vision blurred and head throbbing. His memory of the previous night was vague and somewhat scattered. What he was most aware of was his renewed and increased hatred for the man called Lingormr. The Ishbalan didn't give a damn if he had been a special counseling patient. That bastard had enjoyed every second of tearing Scar to shreds. What he may or may not have realized was how much it had affected Scar emotionally. He had felt a renewed sense of drive at the start of the night; the disruption on the intercom and the news of the 'cure' had rekindled a fire that fueled Scar to drive forward. To have a little hope.
Lingormr had promptly crushed that.
He was in pain. So much pain. The cut on his hand was only fading scab at this point, but stitches now pulled at the deep gashes in his legs and back. Not only had the nausea not settled, but his stomach was beginning to cramp. The rash on his arm was impossible to hide without the old bandages covering it. It had nearly reached his elbow.
Scar's hazy eyes could make out the nurse, now pushing a wheelchair up to his bedside. This was humiliating. And he was too exhausted and hurting to lash out or become angry. He was just broken. He still tried to take some sort of grudging control, insisting that he didn't need to be pushed around, that he could at least turn the wheels of the damned chair himself. But he didn't make it down the hallway before the pulling and sharp pain in his back became so obvious on his face that the nurse took over.
He entered breakfast with a frustrated, tired, but overall defeated look to him. Scar felt too sick to eat. He sat at the table and brooded, wishing more than anything to simply be left alone.
[For Goku!]
Lingormr had promptly crushed that.
He was in pain. So much pain. The cut on his hand was only fading scab at this point, but stitches now pulled at the deep gashes in his legs and back. Not only had the nausea not settled, but his stomach was beginning to cramp. The rash on his arm was impossible to hide without the old bandages covering it. It had nearly reached his elbow.
Scar's hazy eyes could make out the nurse, now pushing a wheelchair up to his bedside. This was humiliating. And he was too exhausted and hurting to lash out or become angry. He was just broken. He still tried to take some sort of grudging control, insisting that he didn't need to be pushed around, that he could at least turn the wheels of the damned chair himself. But he didn't make it down the hallway before the pulling and sharp pain in his back became so obvious on his face that the nurse took over.
He entered breakfast with a frustrated, tired, but overall defeated look to him. Scar felt too sick to eat. He sat at the table and brooded, wishing more than anything to simply be left alone.
[For Goku!]
no subject
He hadn't been able to protect his partner, let alone any civilians. In fact, they had all seemed much more well adjusted than him and Barnaby, and there was something very disturbing and a touch stinging about that revelation. But he wasn't allowed to wallow in his pathetic performance for very long; a young nurse came in with a sling, which Kotetsu blatantly balked at.
"That's not necessary! My arm's fine, it's my should--
"Shoulder, I know... But when you try moving that arm of yours even a little, it is going to hurt."
".... I can handle it," he huffed, a bit sensitive of how it would look in the public eye. This wasn't the first time he had ever been injured, okay?! A little discomfort wasn't gonna--Ow, ow owwow! His petulant face crinkled in sharp pain when he tried to cross his arms over his chest. His actions only made the woman sigh, but she tried an alternative approach than chastising.
"If you won't wear it for yourself, wear it for me? I don't want to have to worry all day..."
Flaring his nostrils in silent challenge, Kotetsu eventually relented and let her fasten the flexible sling around him with only a few sore grumblings. But in exchange for this allowance, he asked her to get his fifty cent mask from off his table. Not surprisingly, she tried to talk him out of it, but he was adamant. She either gave it to him and he would go willingly or he would start a fuss. Honestly, the former Hero wouldn't have, but she didn't know that.
With his identity secure again, Wild Tiger followed the nurse to the cafeteria where she took it upon herself to carry his tray for him despite his complaint that he still had one working arm. "Let's see..." she said pleasantly in front of him. "Let's put you--"
"Uh, actually," he interrupted immediately, knowing this game all too well after only being here a few days. "I need to check up on Bunny..." His words kind of trailed off as he worked to pick him out of the crowd. "There--" When he found him, though, the rest of his words died in his throat at the sight of the blond confined to a wheelchair. A few worse-case scenarios entered his mind and twisted his stomach in knots.
Forgetting his breakfast, he headed straight for his partner, barely missing a few crashes into other patients passing through. Wild Tiger stood behind him for a moment, took a deep, calming breath to collect himself, and then carelessly flopped down in the chair opposite the young man like he was wont to do. "Hey..." he greeted with a pleasant smile, not sure what the hell else he could say. It was all clearly written in his amber eyes, but there was genuine relief too. Barnaby was alive and looking a hell of a lot better this morning than last night.
no subject
In fact, knowing him, he was probably worried about him now, but didn't want to cause Barnaby more anxiety than he was already dealing with.
He didn't know what to say in response to the greeting, but that was hardly unexpected. In fact, Barnaby's eyes barely left his tray as his hands balled into fists on top of his knees.
"I'm surprised they stitched me up and bandaged me," he remarked, his voice strangely calm in comparison to how tightly wound up the rest of his body seemed to be. Then, finally, he tore his gaze from the french toast so he could get a better look at Kotetsu. "You were injured too, weren't you?"
no subject
"Yeah, but it's not that bad! I got cuts all over," he admitted bitterly, remembering all those damn knives that kept whizzing around him. How they both had gotten out of there without getting even one pointy bastard stuck in his back was a miracle. "But my arm's fine! The nurse put this on as a 'precaution.'" His finger quotes weren't as effective when he only had one side of them. But now that they had thoroughly discussed his woes, the former Hero's thoughts immediately shifted back to Barnaby's.
He first took his fork in his right hand and began cutting up his french toast into squares, then pulled one of them to his mouth before he could muster up enough courage to ask a very important question. "Uhmm, Bunny..." There was a long pause between his words and the time he brought his concerned amber eyes up to meet Barnaby's deep green ones. "You... You've got, uhmm... feeling in your legs, right?"
no subject
While he nearly said something, he could sense something weighing on Kotetsu, so he patiently held off. His partner had always been pretty easy for him to read, but the long pause would have made his uncertainty obvious to even those who didn't know him that well.
When he finally came out with it, Barnaby let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. After everything that had happened last night, he'd almost been afraid that there was something about his condition he couldn't remember. Still, knowing his shoddy recollection about a lot of things lately, he curled his toes inside of his slippers for good measure.
"Yes," he assured his partner as he met his worried gaze. "The wheelchair makes my injuries look more serious than they are. Aside from the gashes, I'm fine."
Well, that wasn't completely true, and they both knew it. Barnaby's expression darkened. "I'm not sure how long I'll be like this, though," he admitted in a low voice. "Precaution or not, you should take care of that shoulder. It's bad enough that I can't kick and jump anymore. The last thing we need is for you to lose anymore upper-body strength."
In other words, if Kotetsu didn't want to look after his body for himself, he hoped he could at least do it for Barnaby's sake.
no subject
"Don't worry, I'll be careful! It's not even that serious, really--And, hey, my shoulders are finally balanced," he pointed out. The scar on his right shoulder had been getting pretty lonely since he'd received it.
"Oh, speaking of..." The former Hero pulled a piece of crumpled paper out of his pocket and handed it to Barnaby. "I got this from that bulletin thing in the Sun Room about our knife-happy 'friend' last night."
no subject
"Special Counseling," he murmured as his eyes swept over the message. "I don't think I've heard of that before." Then again, he doubted it would be the last unfamiliar term he'd stumble across here. After a moment, Barnaby looked up from the crumpled paper and at Kotetsu.
"Did you see any notes contradicting her?" he asked.
no subject
This "Special Counseling" could happen to his partner one night! The blond could forget even more about himself or the older man; he might even be tricked into thinking his partner was a murderer again. The imagery soured his stomach. "We need to learn more about this as soon as we can."