DAY 65: Breakfast

[envy_the_sinners]

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!]

Comments

[freewill]

So she had headed in that direction as well? If that was the case, then it seemed that she hadn't made it all the way to the X-Ray Room. All things considered, Castiel hadn't lost much blood either, although the throbbing in his shoulder was difficult to ignore.

At the question, he paused for a moment, thinking back over the days. "It would be since the trip to town, I believe," he said. "Or the night before that, maybe." The symptoms had crept up on him slowly, but now the squeezing discomfort in his middle was hardly subtle.

He couldn't say if each person's experience had mirrored his own, but there were enough similarities that it was clear all of them were quickly running out of time. Castiel looked directly at Lust and asked, "Did you encounter Lingormr as well?"

[a_sin_for_him]

Lust's smile was tight as she thought back to the previous night's events She looked down at her plate and began cutting the sweet bread into small sections. Busy tasks helped focus the mind or whatever that one alchemist had said once to her.

"Let's just say that's as far as I managed to get. I take it the news beyond the guard wasn't promising."

If it were, one would imagine it would be reflected amongst their fellow prisoners. But there was only the usual oppressive sense of being trapped and helpless that permeated the days of this place.

[freewill]

If she had only reached Lingormr and hadn't been injured, then she was luckier than some. That Flynn man had been stabbed at least once, and who knew what Kratos had been put through after he and Rapunzel had took off. Fleeing like that still didn't sit well with him, but at least it hadn't been for nothing.

"It wasn't a dead end, at the least," Castiel said after a pause. He watched as Lust cut up her food and realized how unappetizing it really looked. He didn't feel nausea, but instead a complete unwillingness to eat because of the pain he was in. Like his stomach was literally rebelling.

"Something has been implanted in the bodies of those of us who are sick, and it seems that there might only be one way to remove whatever it is." Which was in the crudest way possible, of course. Nothing like this could end without some blood spilled.