damned_institute | Day 29: Chapel

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Day 29: Chapel

Hiei didn't give a damn about religious services, meditation, or pretending to be social. The always sudden waking after night put him in a bad mood, this one particularly so. Even with Kurikara licking him like some perverted moron, the warmth the dragon provided was welcome in Hiei's bed, and missing when he woke, giving the surrounding air a greater sense of chill.

But the perfect thing to relieve his anger might just be making an appearance that morning, and that at least gave Hiei hope for a decent day.

Hopefully Kurikara and Kurama both would be clever enough to figure it out for themselves. Without hesitation, Hiei demanded to be led to the temple, taking a seat in one of the rear pews. Humans had a way of overdoing things, and this place wasn't really much exception to that. Granted Hiei's limited knowledge prevented him from realizing there were much more outrageous churches, but to the demon, the colored pieces of glass and polished wood seemed to be much.

It didn't matter, however. Either could be turned into weapons, perfect objects to slice into that damned head doctor's throat or bash in his skull. That was a thought worth grinning about.

[Feel free to pester. Just, uh, be aware that he's not exactly nice.]

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"I think that if you can be here," Bridget said, pulling away. "Then you are able to get home." He smiled slightly.

"I'm from a long way away from this time too," he said. "But I know I will get home."

On an impulse, Armand asked, "Has anyone written a book about you?" As soon as he said it, he realized what a bad idea it was to ask, but he hoped to learn something by it. So he didn't try to take the question back.

Bridget thought about it then shook his head. "No, not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

That was the trap of the question. "I had heard some patients have run into this problem, so I wondered." It was only a lie by omission, not pointing out that he was one of the patients so troubled.

"When you say books written about them, do you mean fiction or non-fiction?" He'd read something like this on the bulliton board before.

"I haven't seen anything like that before."

"I'm not sure. Some say it is fiction." He would like to believe otherwise. History or biography perhaps. "I only heard a few things myself."

Bridget thought about that for a long moment.

"I..." He frowned. "I don't think that would make anybody less real. If I found out that I was in some fictional story, I know who I am and something like that doesn't change anything." He smiled slightly. "I might be a bit embarrassed, but think of the time it could save with introductions."

"What if the story wasn't nice, or possibly not true?" His tone was a bit higher. He didn't know why he was seeking re-assurance from a young teen. Armand had been afraid to talk in depth about it to people who knew his story.

"So? If it's fiction, then it's not true anyway." Bridget shrugged and reached over to pick up Roger from Armand's lap.

"Say that there is a story about me out there and that I am a horrible, evil person. But I know that I'm not, and anybody who believes a fictional book saying that I am well," he smiled brightly up at Armand. "I wouldn't want to deal with those kinds of people anyway."

"I don't think everyone is as kind as you," Armand confessed.

But it did give him an idea. He could claim the story wasn't true. He'd not thought of that before. Some people would likely believe that.

"I do find it very hard to judge people here. Everyone I've met seems kind and honest. Well, not quite everyone. There was that fellow who wanted to eat me. At least he was honest about it. Yet, reason says that at least some of these people are not what they seem. Do you know what I am saying?"

Bridget frowned and thought about that. "Well," he began slowly. "I think that there are people who will lie to you to try and be friends so that they can use you later." He thought of I-No and her tricks and frowned harder, hugging his bear.

"But, if you don't stop to get to really know someone, then you don't know for certain that they are one way or the other." Bridget looked up at Armand and smiled. "If that makes any sense..."

"Do you think people here would do that?" It's not that Armand never thought anyone would do that, but he thought they were in a situation where lying wouldn't help in the long run. That was why it had only just now occurred to him that he could lie about his own history.

"It is difficult to get to know anyone to that extent here with the nurses chasing us around by day and the monsters at night." He could almost smile at that irony.

Bridget nodded. "Sure they would. People do it all the time, though for different reasons." He smiled. "Though I would like to think that I'm not, I know that sometimes I am making friends for slightly selfish reasons." He looked down at Roger. "I'm lonely here and I've never been lonely before."

He smiled up at Armand. "But getting to know people is fun anyway and if you're careful, the nurses here won't bother you much during the daytime."

"I simply don't assume such a thing. I wonder if I should." If anything, it was getting harder and harder for Armand to make reasonable judgements here. There was simply too much he didn't know, and he had no idea how to find out. It would be such a relief to find someone who would tell him what to do.

He missed Percy. He missed Marguerite. Even more so, he missed his wife.

With a sigh, he pushed his worries aside again. "It is pleasant to get to know people. I wasn't very comfortable talking to people in England, especially Percy's friends. Here... well, there are few good reasons not to approach people."

But would that find him what he was longing for? Certainly, this youth was full of good advice, but he wasn't going to be the leader Armand wanted. He still held out vague hopes for Citan and M. Richter, though now he wondered how he'd try to find out if they were using him. Using him for what? He wasn't useful for anything except as a second pair of hands, which he had to admit, was not a rare commodity here.

"You shouldn't assume," Bridget pointed out. "But you should keep it in mind. I had to learn that the hard way..." He smiled, shoving away thoughts of I-No and those terrible days where he had hurt all those people...

He wouldn't think of it.

"I think you should just talk to people and trust your own instincts. If you think they give off a funny feeling, they probably aren't being straight with you. If you think that you can trust them, then maybe you can and you should get to know them." He beamed and folded Roger's arms over the bear's chest. "That's what I try to do."

Armand sighed and shook his head. "My judgement of such things is notoriously terrible."

"Is there something in your experience that you think could help us here" Specifically, I mean."

Bridget flinched slightly at that and frowned. Well, it wasn't like it hadn't worked out, kind of, in the end. Still...

"I got tricked really badly when I first started being a hunter back home.... A woman lied to me and I wound up .... I wound up going after some good people instead of the bad ones." He hated that, and he'd apologized a lot when he'd found out, but he still felt terrible about it.

"I know now that what happened was because I trusted her without getting to know her better though." He looked at Armand with an earnest expression. "So I learned that it's best to get to know people before you just agree with them."

He hoped that Armand didn't think less of him for that story though...

He couldn't noticing the flinch. Armand frowned and looked down at his knees. "My apologies. I was only hoping to benefit from someone who learned something I can't seem to understand. Please don't worry yourself, my friend."

He reached over to pat Bridget on the shoulder.

Bridget smiled and shook his head, reaching up to lightly pat Aramand's hand. "Oh, no," he said. "I'm not worried. It's just..." He made a slight face.

"It's kind of embarassing to say that I messed up so badly on my first real trip outside of my home." Armand seemed like a smart man. He'd probably never done anything like that before...

"You were young, and you learned better. Some people need for more prompting to learn to correct their ways." It didn't seem fair to return Bridget's honesty with his silence.

"I made a very big mistake, too. I wasn't as young as you--in fact it was only a few months ago the way I see it--but in a way it was almost my first time on my own. I made a very big mistake, and it almost cost one of my best friends his life."

Bridget shook his head. "It wasn't a long time ago. Maybe a month or so really." It was embarrassing to be fifteen years old and never been outside before.

He tilted his head and listened then frowned. "Is he okay?"

Armand nodded. "He's a very smart man, and he was able to mend what I'd done wrong. It's me that has trouble putting it in the past."

"Are you still trouble by what happened to you?"

Bridget nodded, smiling slightly, if a little less brightly than before. "I wish it hadn't happened, but it did, and nothing can change the past." He looked down. "And the people I hurt... well, most of them are my friends now. They forgave me and they are fine now. The one I think I hurt most though..." His smile was warm. "She's the kindest to me."

For a moment, Bridget was silent, then he rubbed a hand over his face in case there were any visible tears and smiled up at Armand. "If he is a smart man, and your friend, I don't think you should worry about anything."

Armand didn't mean to make Bridget cry. Bridget was being far too kind to him for him to want to distress the boy. "Percy is very smart, and he forgave me," he agreed. That didn't mean it felt right inside, not when Armand was here and unable to keep demonstrating his good faith and devotion to his wife.

Armand felt the urge to rub his eyes again. All this tangled thinking gave him a headache. He didn't feel bright enough to work through the mess his thoughts could get themselves into.

"Let us move on. You've been good to me. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Bridget smiled and shook his head. "Oh no," he said quickly. "You don't have to do anything for me at all. That's why it's friendship! But..." He tilted his head to the side and tapped a finger against his lips in thought. Suddenly, Bridget brightened.

"Promise me that if you're uspet, you won't just go and hide. You'll look for someone to talk to. Okay?" Armand looked sad, but it looked like he was trying to hide it. His father sometimes looked like that and Bridget didn't like that.

Day 29: Chapel

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