Day 67: Breakfast

[knightspirit]

For the first time since Kyousuke arrived, waking up didn't feel the slightest bit strange or out of place. It was still like night had suddenly stopped, with nothing in-between then and now, but instead of being disorienting, or like there was something missing, it was like waking up from a nightmare. His breaths came heavy and anxious, everything flooding back to him, but unlike last night, he had more mental clarity, and he actually understood what it meant.

Sora... was dead.

After a moment, his breathing seemed to ease up, and he sat up slowly, and simply stared down at his blanket. The motion hurt quite a bit, a lot worse than it had yesterday morning, but he seemed to be in decent shape, all considered. Sore, battered, a little faint, but compared to worst of it...

He wondered if he should feel upset right now, or want to yell, or cry, but the truth was, he didn't. If anything, he was just numb. Tired and listless. He wasn't sure what to think or feel about anything, but somehow it seemed distant and disconnected, like something that hadn't actually happened. Yet, if he lingered on it too long, the lifelessness grew into something nauseating, heavy and constricting in his chest, and he didn't even notice until he realized he was gripping his bedding unnecessarily hard. So he forced himself to relax, and not focus on it too much. ... He preferred the cold sort of nothingness.

When the nurse arrived, she wasn't empty-handed, unfolding a wheelchair by his bedside and looking at him expectantly, as if she wanted him to settle himself into it. Looking at it was strange and uncomfortable, and he found himself refusing automatically.

"... I can walk fine. I don't need—"

"What you don't need," the nurse said sternly, "is to be overexerting yourself. You got to walk around yesterday, and what do you do? You go and reopen your injuries! Honestly, Mr. Taylor, you might be young, but you need to take better care of yourself! Today, you're resting, and if you're good about it, we'll see about maybe taking the chair away tomorrow."

That was bad enough, but then she wouldn't even let him wheel himself, and pushed him along from behind. This was totally unnecessary... But though it made him feel helpless, Kyousuke didn't have the energy to argue, so he let her do what she wanted. She asked if he wanted to make a quick trip the bulletin, first, but... Would the news be there? There were people who deserved to know, but there would be reactions to it, questions he didn't want to answer, and feeling his stomach give a lurch, he decided he didn't want to deal with it. Any of it.

Once in the cafeteria, the nurse asked him about breakfast, but Kyousuke insisted he wasn't hungry. ... He wasn't. Sensing he wanted to be left alone, she wheeled him off to an easily overlooked portion of the cafeteria, but quickly returned, setting food and some juice in front of him, "just in case." She set a small paper cup with a couple of painkillers on the tray, and after that, she left, leaving the boy to stare down the meal he didn't really want.

[ Kratos! ]

Comments

[ever_loyal_dog]

[from here. Beware of spoilers on intro post, breakfast post should be ok though!]

Soushi followed the woman down a long hallway and through a wide open room before they reached the cafeteria. It wasn't so different from the one at Ayakashi-kan; made to accommodate several more guests, perhaps, but similar enough to put him just a little at ease.

The nurse handed him a tray and pushed him toward the breakfast line where more staff members handed him food and drink. He was vaguely disappointed that there was no tea; it seemed odd not to have it at breakfast of all things.

The room itself was large and mostly empty, a few others in the grey pajamas were wandering in as the helpful nurse also pushed him toward a seat. He assured her he would be fine, though he kept an eye on the doors, hoping for any familiar faces. The food was left mostly untouched. He didn't like eating in front of others, if he could help it.

[Free!]

[longlivetheking]

There was one thing worse than getting soaked by cold rain and falling face flat into the mud, and that was getting soaked by cold rain and fall face flat into the mud without accomplishing anything at all, considering the night had so delightfully ended before Scar could even so much as decide on a direction once both he and Murphy had finished the infuriating task of climbing over the wall.

In other words, tonight had been an unnecessarily irritating endeavor. Not that Scar could have expected anything more in this dreadful place, but he still couldn't help but to feel irritated as he awoke back in his room and the day once more reverted in an all too familiar routine. The chatty nurse did not help. She never did.

"Now why don't you keep Mr. Fox some company?" suggested the woman in question after supplying him with the pathetic excuse for food they served here. Scar had to resist rolling his eyes as he followed the woman to some individual he had never seen before.

"He's new, so be nice."

The emphasis on the last word did not quite escape the former lion's notice, and neither did the fact that the infuriating woman chose to linger until Scar had at least said hello.

"Well, good morning." The tone of Scar's greeting more or less conveyed every amount of enthusiasm he felt, but at least the female seemed satisfied enough with his effort to leave.

A new person, hmm? Oh yes, just what he needed this morning. Hopefully, this individual would be remotely worth the effort...

[redcladidealist]

Just like last night and the night before, Lloyd woke up back in his room without any memory of how he'd returned. This time, though, something was different. As he uncurled slowly, he realized that his hands were clutched around a book.

A book...

Ishida's journal...

That was right. He'd taken the journal from Ishida's room to use the maps the other boy had drawn to help guide him, Inoue, and Karkat through the halls in their search for him. The last thing he remembered, they still hadn't found him-

"Good morning, sleepyhead!"

The cheerful voice wasn't one he was familiar with, belonging to a nurse with a round, friendly face who bustled into the room. The woman made her way to the side of Lloyd's bed, resting a hand on the teenager's shoulder. "Come on, Mr. Clarke, it's time to wake up! You don't want to miss breakfast, right?"

Mr. Clarke. Mr. Clarke. Somehow that felt even more foreign than when he was being called Nigel. But she was smiling and it was hard to feel more than a flash of irritation. "It's Lloyd," he said, pushing her hand away so that he could sit up.

The nurse sighed, then patiently patted his arm. "Still not remembering, huh? It's all right. We'll get you there soon, I promise. At least your arm is healing up nicely. See? You might even be able to take the bandages off this evening, so long as you behave and don't do anything that might aggravate anything."

Glancing down at his arm, Lloyd realized she was right. The fresh bandages that had been put on at some point didn't seem to hold anywhere near as much gauze and covered a smaller area. He couldn't see the bandages on his ribs, but the injuries there felt a lot better, too. They still twinged when he moved, but it was a vast improvement compared to before. I'll have to remember to thank Inoue again...

Somehow, though, he didn't think he should mention Inoue's healing to this woman.

"Where's the other nurse?" he asked instead, partly curious and partly to distract the nurse before she could think to wonder why his arm had healed so fast.

"It's Alan's day off." The nurse smiled again and pulled on his arm. "Now come on, let's go get you some breakfast."

With his stomach already growling at the thought of food, it was hard to say no to that. Lloyd stood up and took a step, then hesitated and looked down at his hands. The journal was still there. "Hang on," he said, shaking her off and moving over to his desk. He had a journal, too, though he hadn't written in it. He grabbed that and a pen, then turned back. "Okay, I'm ready."

Not questioning the move, the nurse led him out, murmuring something as they walked about how writing in his journal was a good idea. Lloyd didn't feel like correcting her assumption. Instead, he just followed her into the cafeteria and sat down once he had his food. As soon as she stepped away to let him eat, though, he pulled out both journals and flipped to the page in Ishida's that had the maps he'd drawn. He wanted to give Ishida's journal back, and had no intention of reading whatever else might be in the book, but those maps would be useful to have for himself. He didn't think Ishida would mind if he only copied that much.

Between bites of waffles, he carefully copied the layout of the halls and rooms. Every so often, though, he looked up and scanned the room, hoping to spot the journal's owner, or anyone he knew. With his attention distracted, he knew there was a good chance he'd miss his friends if they came in, but if all else failed, he could always put a note on the bulletin. Backup plan in mind, he quickly set back to work.

[Free.]

[dividedby]

Well, well. What an unusually pleasant surprise. The night had come and gone without any disaster; in fact, it had actually ended rather well, with Zero and his allies managing to get the supplies they'd searched for the night before last without a single nasty surprise from Landel or his monsters. And to make things even better, Zero actually woke up on time this morning instead of sleeping in and missing most of the day.

Of course, that didn't mean nothing serious had happened in the Institute in general, or that others weren't sleeping when they shouldn't be. He and his friends were probably just lucky...

But Zero wouldn't know if anything had happened for sure until after breakfast. Apparently he had woken up so early that the bulletin board was completely empty when his nurse allowed him to stop by it on the way to the cafeteria. That didn't stop him from leaving a note that he and Leanne had wanted to make yesterday, though (with which he'd tried his absolute best to be as subtle as possible, although he wondered later if he had tried a little too hard). He hoped he'd see a response to that after breakfast, too.

For now, taking in some energy would be a good idea. The once-Reploid hadn't eaten anything the day before thanks to his unusually long sleep, and so he and his stomach were actually looking forward to a bit of 'recharging' with food for once. He gathered up some things on a plate (waffles today - he was actually starting to learn what half of this stuff was called), and then he found himself a seat across from someone unfamiliar who had two journals spread out in front of him. ...Curious sight. Though Zero chose not to say anything to the man - or at least, not yet. He instead got to work cutting up some of his food...but even so, he couldn't help but keep a curious eye on what the other man was working on.

[voiceofthanatos]

Yuri was actually feeling better than yesterday. Actually going to bed at a proper hour did wonders for him. He spent most of the night cooped up in his room, testing his powers over flames and noting the changes. He would have to adjust them to be used sparingly, especially when they came with a wave of fatigue after use. Then he wrote some notes down on his journal and producing some maps made from memory in his place for good reference. He had yet to experience the nightmare asylum in full yet, or the disorientation that came with passing out at night.

Gathering up a tray, he assembled some waffles topped with syrup and a side order of eggs while going through the line. He stopped at his usual corner of the cafeteria by himself, expecting no visitors.

As he bit into the waffles and begun to consume his meal, he wondered how his home was doing, the potential frenzy going on and where exactly was he kept confined in.

[Barnaby]

[baniichan]

Barnaby woke with a start, the air rushing out of his lungs as he struggled to breathe. His hands balled into fists at his sides, then relaxed. The ceiling came into focus, and the Head Doctor's voice filtered through the intercom.

Morning.

He was human again.

But even then, he didn't feel it. The fuzzy memories of the painful transformation and the overwhelming thirst for blood, plagued him. As far as he knew, he hadn't attacked anyone else, but he couldn't guarantee he could keep controlling himself if this continued.

As his nurse escorted him to the cafeteria, though, Barnaby tried to reel himself in and focus on the moment. No longer confined to his wheelchair, he could at least move on his own two feet, slow and pained as it was. Today was a new day, which meant new opportunities to get to the bottom of this. Furthermore, he hadn't talked to Kotetsu yet, who likely had news regarding whether he'd made any headway with their investigation.

But first, he had other matters to attend to. Once his nurse assembled a tray of waffles for him, Barnaby caught sight of Yuri Petrov. Within moments, he'd settled in the seat across from him, and the nurse left them to their own devices.

"How was your night?" he asked in way of greeting, not reaching for his fork right away. Under normal circumstances, it would have seemed like small talk. In a place like this, though, it was an important question.

[freewill]

It had been far too easy for him to fall asleep. In fact, Castiel hadn't even been completely aware of it as it had happened. He'd felt his eyelids getting heavy, had done what he could to still his breath, but then the next thing he knew--

He was coming to, woken up by the voice of the Head Doctor over the intercom. Castiel opened his eyes slowly, his mind swimming with some remnant of -- could it have been a dream? No, angels weren't supposed to dream, but he also wasn't much of an angel anymore. He remembered oranges and blacks, decorations of some sort? But the longer he was awake, the more it faded away.

Still in pain, Castiel shifted, felt his muscles protest, especially those in his abdomen. It looked like his bandages were due to be changed, as they were soaked with blood and discharge from his wound.

His nurse came in with a roll of gauze and greeted him, relieved to see that he'd gotten a "good night's rest." Did she have any idea of what he normally did with his nights? Castiel doubted it, but the phrasing still struck him as odd.

"Let's get your bandages switched out," the nurse said, "and then you can get into the wheelchair. If you're lucky, you might be able to switch to crutches soon."

Castiel hoped so. Yesterday had been unbearable, but at least his head felt clearer this morning. The pain wasn't as crippling, either, but he made sure to sit still as the nurse removed his shirt and unwrapped his bandages.

She frowned at the messy wound underneath. Kratos had made sure to cut into him as cleanly as he could, but the fact was that they had rushed the surgery, not to mention the lack of supplies. The fact that he was healing at all was a relief in his opinion.

Once the new bandages were in place, the nurse helped him into the wheelchair. As humiliating as it was, Castiel realized that rest would get him back on his feet faster than if he protested. Before long, they had made it to the cafeteria, and the nurse brought him some waffles that he had no intention of eating.

Though maybe he should try. After vomiting a few times yesterday, though, putting something in his stomach seemed like a terrible idea.

[For Aigis?]

[no_dont_go]

Aigis had also taken a night off to rest, having taken the advice of one of her comrades and stayed in rather than risk bringing more harm to herself. The sleep had done her well. This morning she felt refreshed. There was still some quickness to her heartbeat and shivers sometimes overtook her but they seemed to have lessened since the day before. Her fever was gone, at least.

However, Aigis felt a little disappointed that she had wasted a night on recharging. She needed to be out there, figuring out how to escape and how to bring down Landel. Her thoughts centered on the source of her misery, Aigis quietly followed her nurse to the cafeteria and received a tray of waffles and bacon. Today, the food looked and smelled appetizing. A small consolation.

Glancing around for a mealtime partner, Aigis spotted Castiel seemed along and she made her way towards him. Setting her tray down, she gave a short bow of her head before sitting. "Good morning, Castiel-san."

She cut into her waffle all the while gazing at the wheelchair her friend was sitting in. "I take it your night was not pleasant?"

[nobleman]

As Guy woke up, the first thing that registered was that he was dry and warm. His instinct was to curl up further, press his head into the pillow, and enjoy the comfort of his bed...

But then something struck through his mind like a lightning bolt, specifically the haunting image of that dark figure with that stark white mask. He opened his eyes, not frightened, but suddenly aware. He remembered the forest, and the flower in that thing's hand.

Had it really worked? It was impossible to know right then and there, but he was eager to get a hold of Anise and talk to her. Disappointing as it was that both Claude and Anise hadn't been given one of those flowers, Guy realized that he had to appreciate what they had. Maybe if they went back to the river tonight, they could cure Claude too.

Of course, that was assuming that it had worked at all, but Guy didn't know what else to make of that strange encounter.

With a resigned sigh, he pulled himself out of bed right as the nurse stepped in. There was no sign of Locke, which either meant he'd woken up before him (possible, since Guy had been so determined to stay in bed while half-asleep still) or--

But the nurse didn't blink an eye at the empty bed, so maybe it was all right. It was better not to jump to conclusions.

He was led out to the Sun Room first and immediately tossed up a note for Anise before heading into the cafeteria. Waffles actually sounded pretty good right now. After that wet, cold night, getting some hot food in him seemed like the perfect remedy. Guy stood in line and then took a seat with his tray of food, keeping an eye out for his friends. The sooner he saw them, the better he would feel.

[Taura.]

[ninelivesonce]

Taura came awake quickly, heart pounding, like (almost) always. The intercom was chirping away, and she frowned at it. They'd accomplished something, though; there was a potted plant on the corner of her desk looking cheerier than anything else in this place did. At least it was honestly happy to have water and old-fashioned buzzing lights. She tugged her fingers through her hair, getting the tangles out just in time for her morning shadow to show up.

There was a hush around the place that Taura couldn't identify until they'd made it into the Sun Room. Fog. Better now than last night; there had been a lot of people heading outside, some of them sick. They didn't have to worry about finding their way home, but it still could have been worse than two dead.

She put up a quick note, and then strolled into the cafeteria. No line, since appetites had been reduced to a bare minimum. She could take some of everything without a grumble, and there were plenty of seats. She slid into one diagonally across from a blond man who was almost as tall as she was, and began systematically reducing a pile of sausages and scrambled eggs to greasy rubble.

[asteroidbelt]

Something was definitely off. It wasn't the nurse; she was walking a little ahead of him like she was yesterday, and Ryusei was fairly certain that she'd even used the same tone of voice to greet him when she came in, though obviously Ryusei couldn't know for sure. It wasn't the way the nurse didn't seem to have gotten to his request yesterday, either. Well, maybe a little, but he could rationalize that as just her personality.

By the time he'd taken a seat with his food, the problem wasn't any clearer. Mildly annoyed, Ryusei opened the journal—he'd assumed they were allowed to bring pens, as none seemed attached to that bulletin board, so he'd asked if he could bring the notebook—and put it on his lap, and looked intently at it make it seem like he was reading while he ate.

[free]

[heroesdontshave]

"Dazed" was a good way to describe Snow as he walked into the cafeteria. Or maybe "drained." It felt like he'd been sick forever by this point, and spending all his time trying to act like he wasn't sick took a lot more energy than he really wanted to admit. He couldn't even bring himself to be rebellious that morning and just went along with his nurse with little more than some grumbles and dirty looks.

Dammit. Come on. It was just a little bug going around. Why was he letting it get to him this much? There was too much going on right now for him to sit around and do nothing. He needed to keep going. There were people counting on him. Besides, there were plenty of people moping around without him adding himself to the count. Come on, wake up! Snap out of it! No way was he going to let something like getting a little sick slow him down!

After mentally pep talking his way through the breakfast line and getting his weird grid-shaped food, Snow felt a little better. Or at least he felt like he could definitely push through and keep going like normal, which was good enough. He just needed to get a little energy going was all it was. Food ought to do the trick. And maybe some conversation.

As far as the latter went, Snow was remarkably unbiased and just plopped himself into the first seat he saw that happened to have a living body sitting across from it. No greeting. No introduction. No asking for permission to sit. He just spread a big smile and blurted out, "Whatcha got there? Anything good?"

Despite the fact that the guy was obviously really into whatever book he'd managed to get his hands on, it didn't occur to Snow that the guy might be busy or that he might be interrupting.

[awokentospring]

Lee woke with a start, surprised by the suddenness of morning. He had been certain he was climbing stairs but now here he was in bed again.

He sat up and looked down at his injured hand. His right arm was still in a sling, but his left had been carefully bandaged over all the glass cuts he had received the night before. His head felt a little heavy, and reaching up Lee's fingers could feel a tight knot forming under his hair at the back of his skull. Lee knew there was a possibility he had been given a concussion, but he had lived through worse.

Pushing himself to his feet, Lee thought back to the Head Doctor's comments about washing hands and was reminded of the blood soaked handkerchief. He would need to take care of that before he returned it to Facilier. The doctor was really quite kind.

Lee's nurse came in then, chatting in his kind and patient way as he instructed Lee to hop to it for breakfast. Lee winced at the tightness in his left hand. He knew he was going to have trouble eating today with his fingers barely managing to curl.

"This is why you should take better care of yourself, Bruce." Nurse Todd gave Lee a piteous look. "Your parents are worried about you. And when you hurt yourself, you hurt others as well."

"But I did not mean to hurt myself," Lee replied with a pout. Todd only shook his head, obviously believing Lee was merely in denial.

They made it to the cafeteria and Lee was quite glad to see most of the dining options were things he could pick up and eat without the use of utensils. The nurse helped him fill a tray with waffles and sausage and bacon, then led him to a seat where Lee hungrily chowed down.

[Flora~]

/LATEST FOREVER /)_- I'm sorry

[showmeyourwreath]

Flora awoke, suddenly, blinking sopor, if not bemusement, out of her eyes. What a strange dream that had been. It felt so real, she could have sworn it was, and maybe that wasn't something to be discounted. Maybe surreal was more the term, and she could swear it was that, as well. It could have been another trick. Halloween wasn't for a while back home, she remembered that much, but who could say here?

She combed a hand through her hair. A part of her hoped that it was real, she had to admit, if only so she could have some sort of half rational explanation for having dreamt of Klavier, dressed as he was. Maybe something she ate. Sure, why not. Flora started to get out of bed, but froze the moment her feet touched the floor. ...Unless it really was something that she ate?

Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. There was something to be said for caution, but she was basing her suspicions on what may have just been a dream. Would they poison or lace the food with anything? It seemed counterproductive, but she hadn't forgotten that there were people already sick because of the head doctor. Maybe it wasn't counter at all. Maybe it was a wanted result. She couldn't help but frown at that, huffing as she ran her fingers through her hair again, wary and weary. Being this paranoid was exhausting and grating on the nerves, even if it was (might be?) necessary. She sighed, trying to sort herself out a bit. This was no way to start the morning. If Stella were here, she'd chastise her and warn that she'd give herself wrinkles.

There was an urge to draw her knees up to her chest and hold them there, barely resisted. She missed Stella. She missed everyone. Flora hadn't given up hope that they could have been here. It would be really funny if it turned out that all her friends were here the whole time and they'd all just running around each other, somehow. Not that she wanted any of them stuck here, but they had yet to come across something that was truly insurmountable when they were all together.

But here, Flora was alone.

Opportunities to ponder it further ended with a knock, then entry. It would probably be a rare occurrence, but Flora counted herself grateful to her nurse for the interruption."Good morning, Valencia! I hope you slept well?" It was said as a question, but she didn't give her an opportunity to get a word in edgewise. "Well, then! It's time to head to breakfast."

Flora's stomach turned.

Wonderful.

She followed the nurse into cafeteria and fixed herself a very light plate of food, all the while eyeing her options suspiciously, delicious as they looked otherwise.

"Why don't you sit with Bruce? He looks like he would appreciate some company." Her nurse was now two for two, because Flora had no problem with this. She sat down and smiled warmly, if a bit subdued and very much concerned. It was hard to ignore his arm. She was there the night he broke it, after all. "Good morning, Lee. How are you doing?"

[requitedfate]

Shiina shuddered awake and immediately wished she was back asleep. Her entire lower half hurt, throbbing strongly enough to bring tears to her eyes. She knew she had to get up today and move around but the very idea made her breathless. How was she going to survive another day here?

Her nurse chose that moment to walk in and her eager smile evaporated upon seeing Shiina's distress. She disappeared out the door a moment and returned with a pill bottle, carefully moving to help the teenage to swallow a few pills down. She had to move Shiina into a sitting position to help with the pills and Shiina hardly managed to bite back a groan. Her back welcomed the relief, but her guts were a mess of pained knots.

"Reiko, dear, just try and relax. The pain will be gone soon. And food should help." The nurse then moved to pull Shiina into a wheelchair. The teenager was grateful. At least it would be better than walking.

Wiping her tears away, Shiina gripped the wheelchair arms with a deathgrip as she was slowly wheeled towards the cafeteria. She gasped at the slight bump that came with rolling through a doorway. "What happened to me?"

"Don't remember? You had an emergency appendectomy." Shiina glanced down at her belly. Well, it was in about the same region, sort of. The nurse started speaking again, drawing back her attention. "There were some complications. I know, it's hard, but these things do happen."

She should not have expected any better. With Shou having to work as quickly as he had, and especially on an animal-like monster body, it was more surprising that she had survived the surgery at all.

Her nurse placed her at a small table and hurried to get her some breakfast. Shiina didn't know if she could force anything down, but she wasn't going to argue. Once the woman moved away, Shiina reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed the waffle, not worrying about utensils for now. Carefully, she brought the still warm waffle to her lips and took a small bite. Nibbles would be best. Now if only she could convince her body to stop trembling she would probably look at least half-way normal.

[Clone BF!! ♥]

[oneman_onekill]

Niikura woke up feeling strangely relieved and more rested than he'd been for the past week or so. Maybe it was because the ordeal was over--well, not entirely, but the worst part of it was for sure. And that? That felt awesome. In fact, he felt so awesome that the nurse didn't even need to come wake him up; by the time she came around to escort him over to the cafeteria, he was already on his feet and done with a few stretches just because he could.

Of course, seeing Shiina in her current state was kind of sobering, but that wasn't enough to stop what seemed like his new source of boundless enthusiasm. "Mornin' Nagasawa!" She looked like death warmed over, just as she had last night, but Niikura wanted to be through with the doom and gloom for a bit, and he suspected that it would be more encouraging to Shiina if he was his usual loud self. She had seen him at his most serious for a little too long over the last few days.

"How're you, uh, feelin' today?"

[seekingmystrength]

Words about allergies and luck came at him in slow waves as he was led down the hallway, the ninja picking up on only parts of his nurse's ramblings. Whatever she was saying, drugged and dazed as he was, he knew did not matter. Another lie, another of Landel's games, and nothing that he cared for.

His shoulder still stung with a dull pain as he went, while his head throbbed steadily beneath a mess of fresh bandages. Strips of gauze wrapped around in a slant that blocked his left eye from view. He had tried to pull them off, but with the first screech of his nurse and the absence of a means to check, he'd consented that seeing what they'd done would change nothing. He'd been there, twice now, and if his arm was any measure, he knew exactly what the bandages would uncover.

It's not his, he repeated slowly through his mind, blocking out the nurse. He kept the same words as the nurse left him at a table, It's not.

[Tsubaki]

[thecamellia]

No… no, no, no. Two more had… bitten the dust?

Tsubaki had been afraid of what the Head Doctor would report about the night’s events, but learning that two more people had been, at the very worst, killed…? It wasn’t worse than what she’d been expecting, but it was by far worse than what she’d been hoping.

Landel hadn’t specified, but under the circumstances it seemed likely he’d meant two sick people had become victims. Considering how many infected prisoners she knew, Tsubaki was fearful she was going to wake up to names she knew posted on the bulletin board. Leanne, she knew was safe, since Leanne had been with her the whole time… But what about Sora? And Kurogane? And Scar and Soma? They had to be safe, right? All of them?

Breakfast wasn’t a high priority by any means, but she was quick to head down to the cafeteria, anyway. She had to--she needed to--see for herself. See who was present. Who wasn’t.

Who was hurt, like Kurogane was.

The moment her eyes fell on him, she felt a mixture of bittersweet relief. He was alive, alive despite what Landel had said, but…

"What… happened?" The soft question left her lips as soon as she was close enough to be heard over the noise of the cafeteria. He looked awful, far worse than he had a mere two days ago. She almost didn’t want to know what could’ve happened to put him in such a state.

[she_is_ruin]

_{[For Klavier!]}

The weather that morning was cold, grey, and dreary, but that was really nothing new. The Institute always had a coldness to it that no amount of sunshine could dispel; a perpetrating chill that went deep into its very heart.

Yomi knew it more than most--could almost taste it--thanks in part to the sesshouseki. With the situation continuing to deteriorate due to the "infection" and the increasing number of deaths, the sesshouseki’s influence, if anything, was only growing much like a plant soaking up water. Fear. Blood. Death. Anger. They were all creature comforts for an entity so full of hatred as the kyuubi.

For Yomi, it was the same… or near enough. The hospital’s miserable atmosphere was more or less an open invitation for her to stretch her wings and assert herself.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of room for stretching in the tight-knit cage Landel had locked her in. It was hard enough trying to accomplish even small tasks, let alone anything of importance. Despite its flaws, working with the History Club had been more productive in the long run, which said something about her success rate as of late. Annoying. The previous night had been a perfect example of wasted time.

She’d waited for Albedo, longer than she should have. And what had come out of it? A whole lot of nothing.

Yomi didn’t spend time playing around with her nurse when the woman came to collect her for that morning’s breakfast; she proceeded into the cafeteria and found a seat for herself, leaving her food untouched in front of her. Although one half of her was disappointed at the lack of progress, the other half was curious (concerned?) about what had prevented Albedo from joining her as he’d said he would. Had something happened to the brother, maybe?

[rocksthecourt]

Wasted nights were an annoyingly frequent occurrence here, unfortunately. Last night had, for the most part, felt like an absolute lost cause. All he'd gotten out of it were some lackluster items, some insight on the more useless areas of the institute, and some fun facts about the water. Oh yes, and let's not forget that little bout of trauma and the bite to his ankle to complete the experience.

From the sound of Herr Doktor's last announcement of the night, however, other people had had it worse last night. Two people had died. At least. And it sounded like other people had been made to do it themselves. Likely due to this monster illness that had been plaguing the institute for a while now. Herr Doktor had never bothered to count when it came to incidents involving Special Counseling or the coliseum. It was sick, really. All of it. The fact that he actually mocked them all for it made it all that much worse, too.

That of course begged the question of just who was left alive this morning. How many people were still there? And what of those he knew personally? He knew a few people who had been sick, actually. Were they still alright? How much longer before they ended up going the same way? Dammit. It was moments like this that made him hate wasted time like last night most of all. There was no time! ...Spending all of his time fretting and thinking of time limits was only going to emotionally drain him, though. Impatient as he was, he needed to pace himself accordingly or else he would just waste more time. So he should just focus on gathering information and planning for tonight. ...And checking up on those he knew just to be certain of their status.

In fact, that was exactly what he decided to do when he reached the cafeteria. After he'd gotten his food, he scanned the room trying to find as many familiar faces as he could. A difficult task since it was still early and people were only filing in now.

There was at least one such person here already, though. Yomi. It had been several days since he had seen her last, but twist in his gut as soon as he saw her was just as raw as if it had only been yesterday. He still remembered it all vividly: how they had been trapped, that fantastical fight in the coliseum, how she'd been killed, the panicked and broken state she was in after somehow being brought back to life. It was a miracle for her even to be sitting there, but that did nothing to alleviate the memories.

Looking at her now, one would never know. She seemed fine enough sitting there. She didn't appear to be in any agonizing pain nor did she have any visible injuries. Even her expression seemed normal. Collected. Very different from the last time he'd seen her. That wasn't to say everything was fine with her, however. She was, as stated, just sitting there; not eating, just sitting. It looked like she was possibly lost in thought and there was a good chance it was due to something horrible. That was something he kept in mind as he approached her.

"Fräulein," he said, both as a way to bring her attention back to reality and as a greeting. The smile he offered was simple and gentle, an attempt to be sensitive considering what might be potentially bothering her. "Good morning. ...How have you been feeling?"

He did hope she felt comfortable enough to potentially speak to him about such things. Some women could be fickle when it came to things like this. Not that he was used to playing therapist for people, but he did hope that if something was upsetting her and she needed to cry to someone about it, she could consider him an available avenue. Heaven knows people need that in this place.

[repelling]

Unlike every other morning, the lost days notwithstanding, Uryuu did not wake before the morning broadcast. As the bell jingled and the Head Doctor's voice disturbed the morning, Uryuu stirred, but only that. As if caught by the same fog that coated the grounds, the words and their content seemed as much a part of a dream as the vague recollection of fangs, orange, and a ballerina. His body, so wired to wake with the dawn even when dragged into unnatural and unremembered sleep by this place, for once succumbed.

If not for the nurse who shook now at his shoulder, he might have slept in, a first -- at least for a number of years. Even grievous injury had failed to disrupt his routine. This was different. His entire body, every millimeter, had been disrupted. His nurse's hands clutched at him, jerking his arm and tugging down the blankets; his eyes opened and shut again, tight against the ache.

His lips moved, but produced no sound; his tongue felt raw. As if it--no, as if every part of him had been put through a meat grinder. His gnawed tongue better fit, but the description seemed fair for the rest, for seventeen, eighteen months of growing pains tucked into an hour. His toes, his knuckles, his knees and elbows and wrists, his joints. His jaw, his lungs, his skin, his every muscle and every nerve. If not in outright, lingering pain, then they felt alien. Not comically different, three feet longer and absurd, but only a little, the differences so minor that it was almost worse.

As he sat up, as he reached for his glasses (both familiar and new, and his mind pounded and see-sawed and spun), as he tried to collect himself enough to justifiably refuse his nurse's help in sliding on his slippers and standing, all felt just that much off. A vague sense of not belonging, of skin that did not fit and was not his, of fingers and arms and where they fell that unsettled. Not enough to demand second looks or even peripheral disturbance, but a niggling, persistance itch.

Uryuu tried to focus. On standing, on what his nurse said ("goodness, Mr. Way, are you getting sick? Aah, once you've got some food in you, and your new medication, you should feel better, so let's get you to breakfast, all right?"), not on the pins and needles in the soles of his feet, but on pushing past the weighted migraine splitting his skull, to order and fix and keep every detail of the night before (Kuchiki-san in a tutu? That hadn't... a town to which he'd not yet been, no, it was hazy, here or there, too much to try and keep in his hands and sliding like water and sand between his fingers), of the memories.

All that, and also the now. He reached, unthinking, to hold his pulsing forehead, but unwilling to yield to or show its effect, pushed his glasses instead. He stared as he did at his desk, ignoring the pull of his nurse for a moment, trying to remember (hah) what was missing, what he needed, what kept his heels fixed. It struck him, finally: his journal. Insisting on stopping at his closet ("I might want a sweatshirt" he worked out, tongue tenative and sore), he found it hadn't gone back to his pillow case, either. At which point his nurse's patience had run out, and she escorted him from the room.

She did allow his usual stop at the bathroom, and Uryuu stared at the mirror. His black eye had gone, and he would have smirked at that, but... Again the slightest, infinitesimal sense of wrong, even as another part of him declared no, no, this was right-- it fit, and he finger combed his longer hair, his bangs, into a side part. Remembering the last procedure and its corroding burn, he tugged down his shirt collar, stretching it until he could inspect the scar left from Ryuuken's arrow. No new marks. No sign of whatever putrid thing had been injected.

Then the Cafeteria. Struggling still, it took an inordinate amount of effort to focus on shuffling in line and collecting a waffle and water. His nurse would have done it if he hadn't. For once, he could not make an effective scan of the room, searching out familiar faces--only looking for Inoue-san (had Vantas-kun...) before letting the woman guide him to a seat.

Perhaps his expression or the color of his skin as he looked at the waffle told her just how nonexistant his appetite was, as when she dropped a cup of pills onto his tray, she pulled and encouraging smile. "You'll feel better if you eat, you know. And those really shouldn't be taken on an empty stomach. Especially the anticonvulsants."

Nodding, but unable to pinch his mouth close to a smile, Uryuu at least toed the act well enough to thank her.

Anticonvulsants. Perhaps all that shredding and extending of his nerves posed a seizure risk. If he could trust they were what she said, but what would be the point in lying, when they could as easily drug the food? Which should have smelled promising, probably, and been ever appealing as free and practical. Instead, his stomach shrank back from it, and nausea oozed in his throat, tangible and sticking.

Compromising with the water, he sipped it, cool over his tender tongue. Setting down the glass, he propped his elbows on the table and folded his hands together, supporting his head against them. The disarray of his mind was maddening but he worked at it, as if following a thread to try and untangle and impossible knotted mass.

[ SUPAH LATE and tl;dr for Orihime!!! ]

[faeth]

The way Orihime woke was less like waking, and more like a violent jerk out of a hazy cloud of half-consciousness. It was a struggle to organize the disconnected images that came flooding into her mind's eye; immediately, she remembered Lloyd-kun and Vantas-kun -- but there was also a (kind of) smiling Ishida-kun, and a ballerina princess with a tutu as white as snow... Still, reality burned bright into her retina when she finally opened her eyes, when it occurred to her that she was on the floor and that her nurse was peering down at her -- possibly worried, possibly amused, her blearily addled mind couldn't tell. "Ah, Miss Highwell." What she first thought upon awaking then, was how bright the light overhead was -- she admired how it framed her nurse's head, how it cast sinister shadows over the nurse's face like a horror movie. "What are you doing down there? Breakfast has already started, you know." The woman's voice was softly chiding, her arms unusually strong as they hefted Orihime's upper arm up and over her shoulders, lifting her from off the ground.

They were out the door before Orihime even registered the words: "Let's get you something for your empty stomach, okay?"

She wasn't tired... or as tired as she was during the past night, at least. Whatever oppressive fatigue had overcome her when she used Souten Kisshun was mostly gone now, reduced to a weirdly dreamy weariness that left her feeling light and sliding on her feet. Yet, by the time they reached the cafeteria, she had abandoned her balanced perch on her nurse, already scanning the crowd for familiar faces. She recognized Lloyd-kun in the distance, Lee-san and Kurogane... but where--

"Ah, aren't you going to wait in line?"

She never gave her answer to the nurse; she had already started running, ignoring the admonishments of careful, you'll slip! that echoed shortly after her.

After all, she'd have recognized that pop-star haircut anywhere.

"Ishida-kun?" she tried, standing to the left of the hunched over figure, her fingers curled into an entangled grip that left indents of her nails along the back of her knuckles. "Ishida-kun, is that really--"

[stop_the_rain]

Despite the wet and the cold and the fact that they hadn't gotten anywhere, Murphy had to say that the previous night hadn't been that bad. Hell, they'd gotten over the wall, which was more than he'd managed in a few nights of effort.

And no horrific monsters had attacked.

The ex-con found himself heading to breakfast feeling calmer than he had in a while. His conversation with Gabe was still fresh in his mind, as was the Magdalena he'd found the previous evening in his room. The lady of repentant sinners had come to him, probably the only way she could in this place.

Okay, maybe that was a ridiculous thought, but Murphy couldn't tell what was ridiculous and what wasn't anymore.

He grabbed his breakfast - actually hungry - and took an empty seat. He knew things were bad overall, but...it was like prison, again. His people (did he really have people?) weren't affected, so he wasn't going to waste much of his energy worrying. He couldn't afford to. You had to look out for your own, here.

And anyway...what the hell could he do?

[free]

[complicatedliar]

Well, that had been a pointless evening. A welcome enough break however, he supposed. He would have not been bothered at all, except that a rather palpable deadline had been set and he had every reason to work toward it.

Ah well. The long game was all that ultimately mattered anyway.

Loki acquired a bowl of fruit and some tea, then tucked himself away at a table to begin picking at it.

[The good doctor!]

[doctor_voodoo]

The night before had been a half-way success for Facilier. The greatest achievement was the killing of his infected roommate, Hakkai. One down, three to four more to go... It wasn't the cleanest or injury-free job however. Facilier had his newly found work beast, Rock Lee, to thank for taking on most of the messy work. The Bokor was unable to get his new minion all fixed up after that violent episode with Hakkai, but at this point he knew he had the useful boy firmly under his wing. The other half of the night that wasn't so successful was his failure to find more supplies from upstairs. The night had ended just as they reached the second floor.

As frustrating as that was, knowing that he had one of Landel's "lambs" taken care of left Facilier with a smug grin as he entered the cafeteria to gather up his breakfast. That said smile only grew to near gloating proportions once he spotted a familiar head of oiled-up hair.

"Good morning, Mr. Lingormr!" Facilier greeted the other man as he took a seat across from him. "How have things been treating y'all since we last talked?"

[madeinthehrl]

Consciousness came slowly to Soma, exhausted as she was by last night's events. Recollection was even slower to return. There had been...a wasteland, and the torn-up remnants of mobile suits...

And Landel's voice. She remembered that, even though she'd heard it from a distance. Two more bite the dust. But who?

One thing was clear, though. The library was a bust. She was stubborn, but she wasn't stupid. There wasn't a single weapon in her small arsenal that would be any use against the thing they'd encountered last night. Part of her still refused to believe it had been real. Surely it had to be an illusion like--like everything else last night.

The bulk of the pain from her surgery had receded by now, but the nurse still insisted she stay in a wheelchair for one more day. Tender as her abdomen still was, she didn't feel inclined to argue. And a quick look at the bulletin board on their way past it told her nothing about who had died last night. But that didn't mean nobody had. Frowning slightly, she scribbled a note for the Once-ler, then looked up at her nurse.

"Is Amanda awake yet?" she asked as they entered the cafeteria, thankful at least that she'd managed to remember Rapunzel's real name. "I haven't talked to her in a while, so I'd like to sit with her today if I can."

The nurse only smiled sympathetically, and Soma's heart plummeted into her stomach.

But it couldn't have happened. She'd seen Rapunzel last night. She'd been there. Asleep, but there.

No.

"No," she said sharply, loud enough to attract the attention of a few other nurses. "Don't you dare--"

"Maria, Amanda's gone home!" said the nurse. "You should be happy for her! I know you'll miss her very much, but--"

Soma didn't hear the rest. She looked down at her white-knuckled fists and tried to focus. If she did anything now, if she fought back, if she caused any trouble, she'd only be as bad as that idiot who'd started a fight on the bus. It would only end in other people getting hurt. She had to remember that.

(But she'd been there last night.)

"Of course," she said numbly. "I'm very happy for her."

And then it was just her and a slowly cooling tray of waffles in a corner of the cafeteria, and the overwhelming knowledge that she'd just lost another friend. And when Landel had said Two more...

No. She refused to consider that possibility. Soma dug her nails into her palms and didn't look up.

[for Sonia!]

[stylebythemile]

[Sorry this is so late! ;;]

Good moooorning, ladies and gentleman!

Sonia gave a quiet groan and rose from the bed sheets, stretching and yawning.

Did you all sleep--

"Huh?" She opened her eyes and glanced around the room. As it sank in that she'd been put to sleep before she could complete her mission, she scowled and seethed in silence, her hands balled into fists. It wasn't until the announcement was finally over that she quickly remembered something. Two more bite the dust...

"Sora!"

She was worried when she got to the noticeboard and found a note mentioning her friend, an operation, and how it had been unsuccessful. (It had probably been written by Kratos; it had the same handwriting as the Arts and Crafts message.) 'Unsuccessful'? Sonia looked over the responding notes nervously, trying not to assume the worst--

She gasped.

"Come along, Sophie," her nurse decided to say at that exact moment. "You need to--"

'Fatal'. Fatal! "No!" Then Sora was...!

"What's the matter, dear?"

Before she could think better of it, she was running back to the F Block as fast as her legs could carry her. When she made it to the women's bathrooms, she quickly shut the door and leaned back on it, then closed her eyes with a shudder. No matter how much she tried to hold them back, tears were already forming and rolling down her face. After a few seconds like that, she thought of her brothers. She'd never wish this place on them, but at the same time, she really wished they were here.

By the time the nurse showed up, the princess had pulled herself together. Less than a minute spent in front of the mirror to straighten herself up and she was out of there. If she could do it over again, she wouldn't have run away like that, but she didn't have time to be embarrassed. It was another unwelcome reminder of how terrible this place was. That and the other awful things she'd seen here...

...She had to find out what had happened to him. (It was what Sonic would have done.) Had it been the operation they'd tried to perform on him, or had they been forced to attack him? More importantly, they had to keep working towards finding a cure that didn't involve surgery.

Despite the lump in her throat, her stomach groaned the minute she smelled breakfast. It was just like the breakfasts the maids used to serve her. Shaking her head--thinking about that would just upset her even more--she moved to a table with her tray... only to look up and notice a familiar face.

"Oh!" she said, surprised, before lowering her gaze and offering a slightly numb greeting. "Morning, Soma." Once she noted the other girl was in a wheelchair, Sonia remembered what Kratos had told her yesterday. She really wanted to talk to her about it, but she wasn't going to sit down until she was sure Soma wanted company.

[a_sin_for_him]

She hadn't been able to find him. Lust had spent the night waiting and worrying, and now she found herself rather distracted by the way her stomach felt sick. It wasn't a familiar sensation, this queasy tightness in the pit of her gut. She was afraid, so terribly afraid.

So much so that she bypassed the Sun Room, for fear of what manner of news may be waiting.

She hadn't been able to find him.

Ignoring the urgings of her nurse to get food, Lust scanned the cafeteria with quick, too-bright eyes. Her small frown only deepened. That tightness in her abdomen seemed to twist and jump. She felt strangely tired through her limbs, as though a creeping numbness was coming upon her.

Abruptly, the anxious homunculus sat at a table, one hand flat on its surface to steady herself.

[forsworn]

For one blessed moment, the instant he woke up, Kratos did not think of what he had just done. His mind reacted as usual to the white ceiling, the feeling of fatigue--as he traced the source of the weariness that had already settled upon him, he remembered it all.

He'd tried to save Sora, but instead, he'd killed him.

Truth be told, Sora's death wasn't the thing that weighed most heavily on him, especially since death seemed to be impermanent in this place. No, the real nail in the coffin, so to speak, was his failure. He who depended so thoroughly upon himself and his own abilities - who everyone else depended on, even - had failed. Without a doubt, not a single aspect of last night had gone in any way like he'd (wistfully, he'd admit) assumed, and that had certainly not been for lack of trying.

"Good morning, Mr. Clarke!" The nurse took that moment to make her entrance, and Kratos sat up with a grimace, the motion tearing slightly at the cut on his face. Out of instinct, he reached up in an attempt to relieve the pain, and for a second, he could feel the stitches--or something; they didn't quite feel like stitches--beneath his fingers, but then the nurse gently grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

"Ah, ah, don't touch! I know it's hard, but you can't touch it while it's healing. Poor thing, you took quite a fall yesterday..."

"Sorry," Kratos mumbled as she stood aside to allow him to stand up. He would have snorted, if he could, since the nurse's fabricated reason for his injury was the most ridiculous thing he'd heard so far, but that would have only irritated the cut more; it was better to not say anything at all and reduce the risk of aggravating it.

She continued to lecture him about letting the cut heal properly all the way to the cafeteria, and by the time Kratos got in line for food, he was not only still reeling from the events of last night, but also fighting the urge to punch her (or something that wouldn't get him sedated) in the face. Thankfully, the nurse didn't also accompany him through the line, or else the latter might have actually posed a legitimate risk. As things stood, though, Kratos still wanted to hide himself away in the farthest corner of the room and seethe, sulk...he wasn't sure exactly how to describe it, but what he did know was that he did not want to talk to anyone.

Upon seeing Tsurugi, though, he had a change of heart. The boy looked shellshocked, which wasn't surprising given how things had gone, and immediately, Kratos knew that he owed it to him to see how he was doing, even though he so badly wanted to just avoid humanity. He would...this would be his exception.

He walked over and sat down across from Tsurugi, careful to make the whole thing casual and slow. "How are you feeling?" He tried not to let his voice sound so dead and flat, but it was hard when he too felt like just staring at his plate for all of breakfast.

[knightspirit]

Kyousuke could hear someone approaching and set their tray down, but even as the chair across from began to move, he didn't bother looking up. Privacy seemed to be a rare luxury here, but he still silently hoped that, whoever it was, they'd take the hint and just leave, or at least not talk to him. The voice behind the words, however, did catch his attention, and he finally lifted his head, catching sight of about the last face he wanted to see right now.

"... If you're here to talk about what happened, spare me," the boy spoke numbly, not bothering to answer the question he'd been asked. It wasn't a real question, anyway, just something people asked for the sake if it when they already knew the answer. ... What a waste.

After that, he looked back down, still silently wishing to left alone, especially by Kratos. It wasn't that Kyousuke blamed him for anything that happened, because he didn't, but that seeing him put the events of the previous night on a loop in his mind, and was an uncomfortable reminder of just how real those images were. He felt himself growing tense again, and tried to push it out of mind, but this time, it wasn't working.

[skeletonenigma]

Waking up the first time was disorienting, for more reasons than one. Skulduggery had since adapted to it; he knew what the intercom crackling in the darkness meant, and he knew to brace himself for the loss of consciousness and the lost gap of time before waking in the morning back in bed as if nothing had happened. He didn't like it, but he'd quickly grown used to it.

This time was different. This time was very different. He never heard the intercom, for one thing, although whether that was because there actually hadn't been an announcement or because he was much too distracted, Skulduggery didn't know.

It was also different because he couldn't remember anything specific after certain points during the torture session. His memories, usually sharp enough before passing out, were now vague and unfocused. Oh, he remembered enough. He remembered everything important; that lock of hair, his own struggle, losing that struggle. The feeling of Necromantic shadows dancing on his fingertips - which, by that point, were no longer fingertips, but he'd never come up with another word for it in a skeleton.

The feeling of killing using those Necromantic shadows.

The feeling of it not being enough.

There was no point denying it. Last night, for however long a time that had been - probably no more than an hour - Lord Vile resurfaced. Power, mindset, and all. Barely held in check by Skulduggery's lingering influence, and even then, there was little doubt in his mind that running into any other patients would have spelled certain death for them.

But he did, Skulduggery remembered with a numbing jolt. There was another patient. Gabe. Gabe as a lion. A lion-shape. And when Gabe reached out to grab Skulduggery's arm, to stop him from chasing someone, there was... an influence of some kind. Nothing strong, but it was enough to help along Skulduggery's fracturing control, and - judging by the way Gabe reacted - it worked in both directions.

He'd have to make sure to thank Gabe for that, at some point. Assuming the man would want to talk to Skulduggery ever again.

He needed to find out where the brainwashed visitors came from. The doctor from last night implied a whole group of hostages somewhere in the Institute, Skulduggery's wife and daughter included. Now that he could think straight, without just blindly believing whatever the doctor told him, Skulduggery needed to find out if that was true. He mulled over that while his nurse cheerfully handed him his breakfast and led him to a free spot, if only so he wouldn't have to think about anything else.

[impudentsongbird]

Waking up irritable was such an unknown sensation to Gabriel that for several moments he didn't even know that that's what it was he was feeling. He stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds, blinking. What had happened?

He remembered ... Riley. Yes. They'd run into each other, and the man had been so ill at ease that Gabe had taken him along. Except they hadn't quite made it to the Arts and Crafts room.

Because of the skeleton. The skeleton which shrieked dark magic.

Gabriel hadn't even recognised him as Skulduggery until he'd spoken. He should have known right away. Should have been able to do something more than what he had, except that he was mortal now. What had he done, with the limited talents available to him?

Riley. The Archangel closed his eyes for a moment as relief suffused him, taking the edge off the lingering irritation. He'd saved Riley, at least, and hadn't been hurt himself. At least, not more than that backlash of utter rage. He'd never imagined such a deep abyss of wrath was possible.

Even the memory made him shudder in his bed, made his mouth dry. Funny, how he could be frightened of an emotion.

Rachel bustled in before he could dwell on it, to his very great relief and his annoyance both. The Archangel threw his concentration silently into her chatter, smiling, wobbly and vague, whenever she needed a response. It was better than having to stop and think, or feel, what he'd been feeling last night and had apparently left something of an impression.

It wasn't until they entered cafeteria and Gabriel spotted a familiar face that he broke free of the whirlwind of Rachel's motherliness. For a moment Gabriel stopped and stared, his tray in his hands, shaken by the dual sensations of something crushing his chest and something else bubbling in his gut.

Somehow, the deep urge to turn around and walk away to the other side of the room was the most unnerving at all. Since when had Gabriel ever walked away from someone in need? And Skulduggery was in need. From his conversations with the other man Gabe had never even imagined he might be evil. Yet, last night, to see what he could do with such vile magic ...

Taking that first step felt like he had weights around his feet, but the rest came more easily. Resolutely. He had never turned away someone who deserved help. He would not start now because he was afraid.

When he reached the table, as carefully as he could manage, Gabriel set the tray down and sat opposite Skulduggery. He picked up his fork to satisfy Rachel's watchful eyes, but his gaze was already on Skulduggery's face. His human, very blank face. How long had he not had one?

"How are you feeling?" Gabriel asked quietly.