((Continuing from here in room M79.))

"Woah, woah, woah," Woody cut in the moment that brief, yet very, very disconcerting message was finished. What did they have in store for everyone? Why couldn't they just go to sleep like people in a normal hospital did? The staff tried to act like everything was peachy during the day! Would it have been so hard to actually keep that up at night, too?

"What was that about just now?" He turned to Wally, wanting answers that actually made sense and didn't include anything about monsters. "Does he seriously say things like that every night?" By now the food sat practically forgotten on his plate, but Woody wasn't sure how someone could think of food at a time like this.

Some part of him hoped that maybe this was some twisted prank played on some of the more...imaginative patients in order to get them worked up over things that weren't there. If that was the case, then maybe he could still take it easy and not let himself worry so much over things that didn't have anything to do with his getting back home. But the longer he stayed here, the more he was starting to realize that thoughts like that were the result of wishful thinking.

((From M44.))

His dinner had probably been one of the more uneventful ones in awhile, but that suited Claude just fine. After hearing about his father's release and running into his mother today, he had a lot on his mind. And that wasn't even touching on all the after effects of his sleep studies that he knew would probably follow him for a long time to come.

Being left to his own devices for a little while wasn't such a bad thing sometimes, because it meant he'd had enough time to sort through his thoughts long enough to keep them from getting in the way when he hung out with friends later. That was why Claude didn't waste any time moping around as he prepared for the night. While going through his things, he was pleasantly surprised to find that his jacket had been returned to him, neatly folded along with the rest of his uniform. Since he'd been unable to check before tonight because of his previous condition, he'd just assumed that it'd been lost on board the Calnus. At least that was one thing that was back to normal now...

Speaking of his Federation uniform, he hadn't forgotten about the phase gun, either. Even if he wasn't sure whether it would be of much use within the institute, Claude had no intention of leaving it lying around his room, either. He slipped it into the inside of his jacket, just as he'd done on his first official away mission all that time ago. His heart ached with something he couldn't quite name, but he pushed that aside for now. He had other things to do.

There was also the ring Guy had found for him to consider. Upon closer inspection, he was able to admire the craftsmanship of the piece of jewelry for what it was, even if he knew it hadn't been given to him to wear as some kind of accessory, or even as an aid in battle. But if what he'd heard was to believed, that jewel was capable of transporting him to the last place he'd been before the Calnus -- wherever that had been, exactly. Maybe it'd come in handy at some point. Claude slipped the ring onto his right hand and collected the rest of his things.

He didn't need to waste much time. After the last few days, Claude had a renewed appreciation for all the possibilities a new shift could bring. He didn't have to sit in his room with a couple of cold compresses taped over his eyes. That was always something to be grateful for.

With that thought, he pushed the door open and slipped out into the hall.

((To here.))

((From here.))

As Claude made his way through the dark, he considered the message he'd seen on the bulletin just before dinner. Guy had invited him to come along for...whatever he'd had planned. To be honest, he wasn't too sure of what he'd agreed to do tonight. But with how crazy everything had been the past several days, he wouldn't have been surprised if he'd made plans with his friend and somehow forgotten it. The thought made him feel kind of embarrassed, and he hadn't wanted to draw more attention to that kind of slip than was necessary. After all, he didn't want anyone thinking he was unreliable, especially after how much time and care Guy had put into looking after Claude during the last two nights.

Even if the trip hadn't been planned before today, though, Claude was still glad to get a chance to help out and make himself useful. He didn't want to get rusty with his sword or anything, after all. Plus it was hard to imagine his friends going off to face the institute's dangers without him, even if part of him realized that things very well could have played out that way if it hadn't been for Natalia.

But now wasn't the time to think about stuff like that, and Claude did his best to focus on what was right in front of him. There wasn't a single soul in the hallway yet. He passed by the entrance to Guy's hallway, his steps slowing down. Maybe they could walk to the meeting place together? It was what they usually did for things like this, anyway. Not only that, but after what had happened in the library this morning, Claude knew he owed Guy a proper explanation. Even though he probably wouldn't have been able to explain much until tomorrow, he at least wanted to acknowledge that he appreciated Guy's support today.

There was also everything that had happened with some of Guy's missing memories. His friend hadn't given him an update about that for awhile now, though Claude assumed part of it was because he hadn't want to be a burden to someone who was recovering from experimentation. Now that he was better, he intended to find out if anything had changed since their talk in the sun room that day. Like the mess with Mom, though, he'd probably have to wait to delve into that, too. Talking about heavy stuff while walking around at night usually didn't work out too well for them.

Frowning to himself, Claude leaned against the wall and waited for Guy to appear.

[Currently M36]

Touya had thought that the last vestiges of his exhaustion due to the drain of his power had all but vanished, but apparently it had made one last stand. Touya awoke briefly when his nurse had brought in dinner, the last thing he remembered being talking with Yue in the hall.

Talking with Yue in the hall?! He sat up abruptly, noting the meal left on his desk and groaning. So he had slept through the entire day and no doubt both Yue and Yuki (possibly Sakura as well, though she didn't come out of her room very often really) were petrified that something had happened to him. They always met for lunch, after all.

Way to be, Kinomoto, he thought crossly. He'd decided that the best move now was just to get the last vestiges of this exhaustion out of his system, then go to meet Yuki right after the doors unlocked.

Which would have been a great plan, if he hadn't slept through the doors unlocking as well.

The mines tonight. Indy dressed quickly in his usual clothes and picked up his flashlight, machete and whip. He added his journal and a pen to one jacket pocket, so he could map the area as they went. Thinking of the minotaur from the other night, he was half-tempted to bring a ball of string, but of course he didn't have one. The journal would just have to be enough.

He took a last glance around the room to make sure he hadn't missed anything, then headed for the door. He had a lot of ground to cover before morning. Better get started.

[to here]

[from here with Spock]

The doctor jerked with surprise. Spock seemed to appear right at his elbow, and he'd be damned if his heart hadn't set to racing. He'd just been just starting to think that maybe that encounter with that statue was a fluke, and there'd be no surprises down here, and then that damned Vulcan had to go ahead and see if he could put him into his grave early. Where did he even learn that?

"Would you stop sneaking up on me?!" groused McCoy. Bad enough this wasn't the first time that Spock's appearance had him unsettled, but this time, maybe he could attribute it to that blasted angel.

He turned, and for an answer, started up the stairs, flashlight aimed up ahead. He glanced back at Spock out of the corner of his eye as they climbed. Spock looked well enough despite what Jim had told him. Looks could be deceiving though. Even if the institute's accelerated healing had worked, or whatever technology they used, it wouldn't erase the emotional trauma. Spock could swear all night long that Vulcans didn't have the capacity to experience that, but he knew better. McCoy would be happier if he could examine him, but this wasn't the time and place to carry that out.

Later. You aren't getting out of an exam that easy, he thought.

[M85]

One ominous announcement from De Landel later, Guybrush was ready to bolt out the door, pausing only to take one more quick bite of his meal. He grabbed the doorknob dramatically, showing that door that he meant business. Elaine was out there somewhere, kidnapped and helpless and possibly being tortured in some horrible way...

All right, maybe not those last two. Even with the sole thought of rescuing his beloved Plunderbunny on the brain, Guybrush could admit that "helpless" was never an accurate way to describe Elaine. She always knew just what to do, and when to do it so it would be either the most beneficial or would move the plot along. Then again, she did have her occasional misstep, and in the rare occasion something was out of her control, it was always monumentally bad.

He couldn't wait any longer. He was not willing to lose her again.

He stepped out and slammed the door shut, only to open it a second later. "Sorrytocuttheconversationshortgottorescuemywifehavefunnotdying," he called to Scott before slamming the door a second time.

[To here.]

When the intercom rang through the cold room and the lights shut off in time with the click of the unlocking door, Edward remained where he was, staring at the space where the liquefied dinner had been sitting. For the second time that day, he wondered if he could starve here. Being in no condition to hunt and having no energy to keep the rotten, foul-smelling bottled blood down, it seemed possible. The thirst was now conquering the pain of his body, burning away any further attempts to mutter words.

An animalistic desire to chew one of his hands popped up in his mind. The burns were terribly, horribly itchy and red and hot, covered under thick layers of bandages now stained yellow.

The darkness was suffocating. Edward wasn't sure what he was waiting for, what he was expecting to happen. Hope wasn't enough - hope that Bella would listen to him anyway, that Venom would move fast enough and be enough to protect her, even in such a short distance. And what would he do when she was here? Stare at the blood beating underneath her skin and mutter unintelligibly?

The best he could do was an accurate imitation of a gibbering madman. How quaint.