damned_institute | NIGHT 65: M1-M10 HALLWAY

Scar swallowed, the miserable feeling rising in his stomach making him want to sit down. He wouldn't, though. For what foolish reason, even he wasn't sure.

"I trust you know what's going on...." He lifted his arm slightly, as if vaguely indicating the rash. "I need your help." Scar's voice was strangely quiet. He was giving voice to the reluctant fact that he really couldn't handle this place alone. He could kill someone if he didn't go through with this now, before it was too late.

Hell, it could already be too late and he didn't even realize it. Scar hadn't seen any of the transformed patients yet, and didn't know if there was still a chance of turning tonight.

"Yes." Without waiting to be asked, Lust took a seat in one of the chairs. She looked to Scar, expecting him to do the same. She imagined he needed her to go to the medical wing for him. He was certainly in no condition to do so himself. She knew the way, assuming it wasn't guarded this night as the one before, it should be a simple task.

Her own voice was quiet, and she clasped her hands together very tightly in her lap. It was taking a great deal to keep the emotions that threatened her in check at the moment.

"What can I do?"

Well, if she could sit down then he could, too. Scar pulled out his own desk chair, slumping into it. The movement was clumsier than it ought to have been. It felt better to sit, anyway, both for his aching wounds and his stomach.

"There were people who made it to the X-Ray room last night. The place with the clue..." He was still furious that he had been unable to get there. That people who were probably smaller and weaker than he had been able to pass that bastard and his tricks... "There's something in our stomachs. A... parasite of sorts. That needs to be cut out." He paused, nearly giving a small shudder at the thought. Scar finally looked up to Lust.

"And you're the only person I know who could help." He went back to staring at the floor mid-sentence, teeth clinched and eyes narrowed.

"You're asking me to...cut something out of you?"

Lust could only look at him, her lips a thin line. She wasn't a doctor. Yes, she'd spent time with them and watched their work, and she was well familiar with human anatomy....

"You do understand how dangerous this is? We've no equipment, no anesthetic, nothing to sterilize you with...and what am I to use? To do this to you?" There was no anger in her voice, only worried curiosity. There was much to take into consideration in an undertaking like this.

Had he thought of these things? Did he even understand what he was asking her to do?

No. Of course he didn't.

"Yes." His answer was flat, almost detached. It was easier, that way. Of course Scar was nervous about this. Yes, it was going to hurt. But...

"I have the scalpels from when we went to the medical wing. It is the only potential solution I have." His voice quieted, though still carried its harshness. "There are children here, Lust. I am not transforming into some beast and risking taking their lives." ...And he had something to strive for, now. Scar needed to live to escape this place, for his brother's sake. That wasn't mentioned, though, for reasons that were obvious through Scar's logic and ridiculous in reality.

If she wouldn't do this for him, for whatever reason, he would have to do it himself. And he didn't know if he could.

"No."

Lust shook her head, rejecting what he was saying.

"Surely there's another way. To both keep you from coming to harm or causing any harm." Because she knew what it would do to his already battered heart and soul, to lose his humanity and harm those he saw as innocents. It would be the death of whatever was left inside of him.

But she couldn't simply do this without exploring other options first. Would he even survive it? Or would it do any good?

"Before I entertain the idea of performing amateur surgery on you...we need at least discuss other solutions. You haven't changed yet, you aren't likely to tonight. We have time to discuss it before taking any irreparable courses of action."

"Do you really think he would give us a good option? An easy one?" This Landel freak enjoyed playing games with them. If the solution were so easy as coughing up the damn thing, there would be no fun for him in the first place. No point in the game.

"If I die then at least there will be one less person for this bastard-" He indicated the intercom with an angry jerk of his hand "-to turn into a walking weapon."

Scar was adamant. Not only that, he hadn't expected Lust to be so reluctant. He wished he had spoken with someone else. Who else could he ask, though? From his perspective, there was no point in sitting around trying to think of a more comfortable solution. Not taking action was like begging them to make things worse.

"I'm not going to let you die."

That was the only certainty Lust would offer, the only promise she would make right now. She was not going to lose him again. Even if nothing ever passed between them than what already did it hardly mattered. Scar wasn't going to die, not if she could do anything to prevent it.

"You can be confined," she went on, softly, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. "To give us time to decipher the other clues, to get information from other patients...."

Scar eyed Lust as if she were the one suggesting an insane course of action. Though he admittedly did not try very hard, he was convinced that he would never come to understand Lust. They had not spoken for days, and suddenly she was acting as though she was concerned?

The frustration in his gaze eased, though, the longer he watched her. It was difficult to redirect his anger at her when she was clearly just as uptight about this as he was. Even Scar could notice that much. His eyes narrowed, but he gave no other indications of his thoughts.

Dammit, this headache was making focusing difficult.

"I guess I don't have a choice, then." He tried to make the words accusing, but they came out sounding nothing but tired and worn. Scar was quiet another moment, still trying to sort his thoughts- something he was not used to.

"There is supposedly another clue in the same place as last night." Scar stood, giving as little indication toward his difficulty moving as possible. "I might as well check there, first." He assumed, for whatever reason, that Lust would want to come with him, but he was not about to suggest it and look like even more of an idiot than he was certain he already did. "You can go about whatever it was that you were doing. I apologize for wasting your time." As much as it left a foul taste in his mouth, he knew that he ought to acknowledge that she had at least shown up.

"You always have a choice. This is just a better one." Lust fixed her eyes on Scar, her expression difficult to read. "I'm not a healer, Scar. I can do what you ask of me, but I don't want to. I can't guarantee you'd survive and I will not risk your life. Not when we can try something else. And you aren't going anywhere."

She stood now, briskly, deciding she simply needed to take charge of the situation. God knew one of them had to! It was easier to channel everything into action, rather than think about it.

"You're ill, Scar, and safe in here." She moved to stand in front of him, gently blocking his way. "I've nothing important to do tonight and I know the way, I'll go. Besides...we ought to see if it's even possible to barricade you in here. I'm not about to trust that plan without testing it first."

Or, she wasn't even going to let him go at all. And she had just told him that he always had a choice. Who did she think she was, his babysitter? Scar watched her with a rather stricken expression as she moved to stand in front of him, not sure of how to articulate his frustration. It came out as more of an unclear grumble than actual words until he finally managed something (slightly) intelligent.

"I have been sick for days and have continued traveling at night as I have. I would be fine if they didn't have that bastard playing guard dog at the medical wing-" Scar cut himself off before he lost his temper completely. Despite Lust's calm tones, he was letting himself get worked up. He didn't have the energy for an argument with her.

"Fine." Scar sat back down as if to prove his point, frowning up at her. For someone who didn't want to be looked after, he greatly resembled a particularly stubborn child who'd just been put into time-out. "They had a guard there last night," he said stiffly, trying to make the comment sound as off-handed as possible.

"And there's no need for that." Lust couldn't keep her tone even any longer. Scar had a way of rubbing and rubbing and rubbing until her frustration was raw and seeping! "There's no need for you to push your poor body further. I can go in your stead. I can....take care of you."

It was a strange concept, both the idea of her taking care of someone and the fact that she had a desire to in the first place. This wasn't something that came easily to her. She hated having to expose herself to him this way, when she knew he would only turn it against her.

But what else could she do? No matter how he pushed her away, she returned to him again and again.

"And I know," she added, frowning. "I won't be caught unawares again."

Scar's demeanor deflated somewhat as Lust became (with good reason) frustrated. He was so exhausted and distracted by his sickness and wounds that keeping up with his usual stubborn attitude was proving difficult. Back home, he would have lashed out with his words, snapped at her that he didn't need anybody taking care of him. Here, though, his tone was more controlled, despite his obvious frustration towards the suggestion.

"I am not and invalid. I do not need to be taken care of."

But he was so tired and sick and broken and... scared. Scar didn't know how much longer he could keep this up before it made him snap completely. Or killed him again. All these years, he had built himself up, hardened himself against anything that could be considered a weakness, against anything that could hurt him. Yet, it had taken so little to break his brittle body and will. Despite this realization that he could not take on this place alone, he refused to let himself turn to others. He was too weak, and he would fix that himself.

Even when it was clear that Lust only wanted to help him, for whatever reason.

"...Again?" Scar glanced back up at her, frowning questioningly. She didn't appear injured...

Protests. Another round of the same, it was a dance Lust was damned tired of. As though her activities before coming here weren't obvious sign enough. She knelt in front of him, determination darkening her eyes. If she beat her head against his wall any longer she swore she'd bleed!

She didn't understand. Why was he still refusing everything? Why did he have need to play the big strong man? He couldn't be a man that cared so very much for his reputation, that was silly. And if he truly thought she had ill designs or ulterior motives...

For the love of whatever gods were out there, what could the possibly be?

"Scar...you're sick and I'm frightened for you and I want to help. I ask you to please shut your contrary mouth and let me be....and let me help."

"I said 'fine,' did I not?" Scar watched her, eyes narrowed more in curiosity than aggression as she crouched down in front of him. As far as he was concerned, she was the stubborn one. He didn't want help. He didn't need help. Yet she insisted upon it.

"Do what you will. It's not as if I'm going to stop you." Nor was he in any position to. Scar absentmindedly rubbed his wrist, watching the floor between them rather than Lust. If she was so insistent on helping, he would just make like it didn't matter. She didn't understand the reasoning behind his objections. Not at all. He wasn't about to explain them, either.

Because some part of him knew that he was being ridiculous.

And she ignored his inquiry about the possibility of something dangerous waiting in the med wing. Whatever.

Lust was silent for a long stretch, kneeling before him and watching him with a tight expression. She could say or do no more. She was done beating herself against his walls for the night. It was far too tiring and did nothing but make her thoughts sour.

And they'd been so sweet a few hours ago...

Without a word she stood and turned, giving Scar one last appraising look before leaving him to his self-prescribed misery.

Scar was also silent, his brooding expression still firm on his features. He didn't watch her as she left. After sitting motionless for some time, he stood gingerly and climbed into bed. Lust was right, despite Scar's constant disregard for her words. He was in no shape to be running around.

Dammit, he should have at least let her barricade the door before he frustrated her to the point of leaving. Scar should have known that asking her for help wouldn't work. It had been a stupid thought, to think that she would willingly help.

Though... the explanation for her decline was quite the opposite from what he would have expected. Scar had thought that she wouldn't want to waste her time on him and on his educated guess of a cure. He repeated Edward's words in his head: She doesn't have a soul. Yet, she had seemed genuinely concerned for Scar's well being. No matter how hard his hurting head tried, he could not think of a situation here where she would benefit by pretending to be be worried. Did that mean her words were genuine...?

No soul, he repeated again. With that truth in mind, only one question was left: Why?

The circling questions did not keep him awake as long as they normally would have. Scar slipped into an uneasy sleep, his exhausted body finally giving up.

NIGHT 65: M1-M10 HALLWAY

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