Day 65: Sun Room

[fallenbeanpole]

His nurse had whisked him away from breakfast as soon as the intercom’s voice faded.  Surprisingly, she didn’t take him to the shower rooms, instead bringing him to the Sun Room (as she called it), explaining that since this was his first day he would be allowed to skip the showers.  Besides, it would be good to let his injuries heal a little more.

 

He’d passed through this room on the way to breakfast, but hadn’t really paid much attention to it the first time.  Now that he was standing here, the Once-ler understood why it was called the Sun Room.

 

Despite the fact that it was cloudy outside, there was still far more natural light coming in through the ceiling windows than he had seen in a long time.  The Once-ler stood still for a few moments, simply staring up.  It seemed almost like a dream, really.  The valley never got brighter than twilight, even at noon.  There was too much smog in the air to let any more light through.

 

After a few minutes, he shook his head.  Anybody who saw him just standing in the middle of the room would probably have questions about it, and he did not relish the thought of explaining himself to a stranger.  He glanced around the room itself, spotting the bulletin board Soma had talked about during breakfast.  The Once-ler decided that was a good place to start, and hobbled on over to get a closer look.

 

[For Nina, I believe?]

Comments

[scarefaux]

"Oh." His falling expression was indicative of that rising level of worry in him. A couple of days didn't seem like a long time in the grand scheme of things, especially if what Abe had told him was correct and humans lived for many years; however, when friends could disappear at the drop of a hat, as he'd found they often did at Landel's, those couple of days could make all the difference.

"We should keep an eye out for her, just in case," the Scarecrow continued rubbing at his neck in some futile attempt to soothe his sore throat. "It'd be just awful if something happened to her. People can disappear very quickly in this place, you know."

[envy_the_sinners]

"She's here. I saw he come into breakfast this morning." Scar just hadn't actually spoken with her in a couple of days.

The Scarecrow's words did put an edge of unease into Scar's mind, though. It was difficult to say whether he actually wanted Lust here or not. She got on his nerves quickly, at times, but that was really only when conversations... strayed. Objectively, she was good to keep around- intelligent and powerful. But he still had the lingering (irrational, though he would never admit it to himself) fear that she would use what she knew of him against him. Hell, she didn't have to do anything and she was a weakness. That was simple, unquestionable fact, unfortunately. It was his own damned fault that he had let himself get shot up like that, and that mad him so angry at himself for being so stupid. What made him even more frustrated was that he wasn't sure

"I'm sure she's fine," he said almost hurriedly, suddenly realizing that he was being awkwardly quiet while lost in thought. Homunculi probably didn't get sick, anyway.

[scarefaux]

"Well, at least you know for sure she's around," the Scarecrow said, putting on a smile. Though Scar wouldn't admit it, even a man without a brain could see the concern etched into his face, hear it lacing his tone. He'd seen it in Depth Charge, as well- as often as his former roommate seemed mad, he had just as many moments where he showed he was only angry because he felt powerless to protect his friends against Landel.

The Scarecrow felt like that himself often, though he knew there wasn't much to be done about it most of the time, and getting worked up wouldn't help anyone. Anger could be a good motivator, but it was mostly beyond the Scarecrow; it certainly wouldn't turn back time and make it so his friends had never disappeared. He needed to take the time to think things through. It was just unfortunate he was working with a damaged human brain and hadn't as much time to ponder everything as he would have liked. Still, there had to be something he could do- he just hadn't found what it was yet.

If nothing else, he had his own experiences in Landel's. Information was as good a gift as any. "Even so, it might be a good idea if you check on her later. If she's sick, she might be having a hard time adjusting to it, being not human and all."

[envy_the_sinners]

Yes, of that much, he was certain. Lust's presence inevitably added a certain difficulty, though. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Scar knew that he was the one making those difficulties, but he wasn't without reason. Whether or not the reasons were rational was another question entirely.

His powerlessness in this place made him angrier than Frank could realize. There were good people here. There were children here. And there wasn't a damn thing Scar could do about it. Was this part of his punishment as well? To watch uselessly the trapped souls of this hell suffer? He himself had fallen victim to the violence. How were women and children supposed to do better? He pushed the thought from his mind before the rage bubbled up once more.

Scar honestly had no idea on how the anatomy of a homunculus differed from a human's, especially here. Could Lust get sick to begin with? She didn't heal properly; he knew that much. Anyone was vulnerable to a man who could raise the dead. The anger he was trying to push from his mind rose.

"She can handle herself." If there was one thing he was certain of regarding the homunculus, it was that. She wasn't someone he needed to worry over. So he didn't. It wasn't like he would in the first place, anyway.

[scarefaux]

"She told me that herself, too," the Scarecrow noted. He wasn't sure exactly what she'd meant by that, though he understood the implication that she could handle herself in a fight if it came down to it. It wouldn't have surprised him: after all, the most dangerous person he could think of was the Wicked Witch of the West, and she certainly didn't look as intimidating as the Cowardly Lion. People were often more than what they seemed- he knew that better than most.

While the Scarecrow liked to think Lust's expertise wouldn't be necessary, he knew otherwise from experience. The Mangled Witch in the Horrible Hallway had taught him that, forcing him to use his own flashlight as a weapon. He shuddered at the thought of her, mouth seemingly an abyss, eyes strangely lifeless and perceivable as such even to a man who'd never known life until his arrival in the Institute.

"There are a lot of dangerous things around here, though," he continued, voice a bit lower as though said things would hear him if he spoke any louder. "Witches, monsters, magicians. She might be able to take care of herself well enough, but we all need help from time to time. There's something to be said about safety in numbers. Why, if everyone was just fine on their own, don't you think there'd be more people traveling alone at night?"

[envy_the_sinners]

Scar shrugged. Perhaps Frank's worry was born from the fact that Lust certainly didn't look dangerous. She had nearly succeeded at killing Scar on two occasions, though, so he knew better.

"She doesn't want or need my help, if that's what you're getting at." It was humiliating to admit, but the only night he had been legitimately injured had been the night she wasn't there. Scar was a sitting duck, here, with his brother's arm gone. He was the one who needed looking after.

And even though that was true, he refused to allow people to look after him. Openly admitting the need for help, the need for others, sat uneasily in his mind. He would set out alone tonight. He would get something done for himself. He didn't need anyone's help, especially not the help of a homunculus.

Maybe continuing to tell himself that he was okay in solitude would make it true.

[scarefaux]

The Scarecrow sighed sadly, brow knitting in a somber look he wasn't aware he was wearing. He saw so much of Depth Charge in that argument, right down to his stubbornness and the red eyes boring down on him. Perhaps that was why their discussion seemed to be hitting so close to him, making his chest ache sharply as familiar chords were struck.

Then again, that might have been the illness, as he was reminded with another series of coughs. He was sure for a second he'd coughed up something inside him, though with his poor knowledge of the human body, he couldn't think of what that something would be.

He put one hand on the armrest of the chair, steadying himself for a second as though the room had moved around him. "We all need help sometimes," he insisted through a wave of some sensation he only recognized from having been experiencing it for the past few days, but unable to put a name on it. Whatever it was, it did not feel good.

"Everyone does," he continued after a deep breath, his chest feeling like a thin cloth stretched too far, "especially in a strange place like this. Sometimes, we just don't realize it for the longest time. Maybe it's because we don't want to see it, bein' stubborn like that, but that doesn't make the fact that we need it just go away. I don't know about you, but I want to help my friends while I can, even if it seems like there isn't anything I can do. I have to try. There've been so many who disappeared already."

[envy_the_sinners]

Scar watched Frank as he coughed painfully- the faintest touch of pity mixing with his anger and frustration. He didn't deserve this- not only the sickness, but the impending doom that came with it. The Ishbalan grit his teeth as he kept his narrowed eyes on Frank.

"You should drink water. It will help," Scar added somewhat offhandedly.

He was quiet as he took in Frank's words. He knew that they were true, that nobody could last long completely alone. Even Scar, who practically prided himself in living without the need of others, had found himself in need of help. He would have died in the sewers if Rick and Leo had not found him. He would never have learned to forgive his own brother if it had not been for the Elric brothers. And Alphonse would have died in the desert without Lust's knowledge.

"I know," was all Scar said. There was an uncomfortable twisting in his stomach, now, that only added to the nausea. He was quiet. For how long, he couldn't be sure. "It's... difficult."

[scarefaux]

"Why, anything worth doing is, isn't it?" he returned simply, getting unsteadily to his feet. Sangamon had suggested he drink something, too. Surely that was the way to get better, the Scarecrow reasoned. He refused to keep feeling so bad and do something about it. After all, that was the point he was trying to get across, wasn't it?

"You'll have to pardon me, Scar," he said, giving his friend an encouraging smile. "I'm going to see if the nurse will get me that drink. I've got to get better if I'm going to be of any use to night."

And with a polite nod, he was gone.