damned_institute | Day 34: Breakfast

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Day 34: Breakfast

[starting off in M13]

The last part of the night was little more than a blur in Homura's mind. The men had rushed in, but not joined them, instead staying off to themselves. Before any of them had a chance to react, however, a voice sounded through the air, mocking some other person Homura had never heard of, and the patients themselves.

To Homura, whoever that man was, he sounded a great deal like a god.

But before he could ask questions, the demi-god found himself no longer in the chapel, but some strange room on a bed. Is that what Kenren had meant from his earlier warning? Homura sat up, glad at least that the world didn't spin when he did so. Then the same man from before began to speak again, with a completely different tone. It was confusing to hear him talk that way, calling them patients instead of prisoners as he had before. Homura listened quietly as the announcement was made, then got out of bed.

Maybe he wouldn't have to go anywhere yet. It wasn't like Homura knew where to go anyway, and that meant he had time. If this was his room, and if he had been here as long as Kenren had said, there was a chance he could find something with answers. The Taisho had even told him that Homura had seen Rinrei. Certainly he would've written something down, made a map, something that could let him find her again! He started with the desk at the end of his bed, first finding a small stack of notebooks. Picking up the first, he flipped through, turning the pages with quickening desperation as he found each one to be blank.

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It did look as if Mister Hughes' bandages were done just as well as hers, but she wondered about how he got it. It wasn't likely that he had run into her father, but it may have been something similar. She had to wonder again, how they did such a thing to people; if it was the product of laboratory work, like chimeras, an accident like homunculi (though their acquisition of unique powers seemed far too uncanny to be an accident), or some kind of disease that cause the deterioration of mind and the malformation of the body. She still shivered at the image of father with all those rows of sharp teeth, dripping with her own blood. If it was a disease, then she... and Mister Hughes...

"I'm alright," she said, more of an attempt to talk the truth into existence than a white lie, "I found some tools, and..."

And my father.
She wanted to say it, but the incident still disturbed her so that she was unsure how to speak of it. And she was still unsure of how she felt about Mister Hughes now. Maybe it was still true that the dead never came back right.

"That's good." Hughes nodded. "You can find a lot of stuff, if you look. Most of it's on the second floor, but it's enough to give us a good leg to stand on." He began on his breakfast, needing it after the previous night.

"You've got people to be with you at night, right?" Of course she did. Ed was here, and if he was around, there was no way Winry'd be left to fend for herself.

"You ever need anything, let me know."

Winry cut up some fruit and a pancake. It wasn't as good as Granny's, but then, nobody's were. There was still comfort in a simple familiar food, and she chose to enjoy it, rather than let it make her long to be home again.

"Oh, I do. I even made some new friends on the first night." But Kagura had been injured and she hadn't heard much from Bridget. She had chosen to go out alone last night, though. God, what a mistake. If she'd had Ed with her, he might have been able to help her through the situation. He'd been through such an encounter before, and she didn't know how it had ended, but Ed, as much of an idiot as he often was, at least had the wisdom of experience with such unusual and emotionally wrenching situations.

She paused and thought for a moment as he offered to help her. She didn't want to be a burden on him, but she knew she might as well ask him those questions she had on her mind.

"I see..." She said, resting her hands on the table, looking at them as she stroked her scratched palm with her thumb, "I hope it doesn't bother you to be asked this, but- did they... do anything to you?"

Besides the obvious task of bringing him to life?

"Good, good." Hughes nodded. He couldn't help but worry.

When she asked the question, he lifted an eyebrow and sat back a little bit. She must have heard about the experiments they did.

"Nothing worse than what they do to everybody here," he answered. "Been poked and prodded a little, run into quite a few critters, but other than that...." He spread his hands and then his expression softened, and he smiled a little sadly.

"I know it's a big shock, huh?"

She didn't like the sound of being 'poked and prodded', even if he said it like it was no big deal. Especially since he implied that it happened to everybody. She was not willing to be subjected to the examination of untrustworthy doctors. Skilled, perhaps they were, if their patching work was any indication, but they definitely weren't people she wanted touching her with a six foot pole. Doctors were supposed to have a code of ethics, and working within a prison-like institute that harmed the prisoners in horrible ways certainly wasn't within that.

"Are you sure you're not..." She didn't want to sound insensitive. She wasn't even sure what it was like to be someone who had apparently died once, "There's not anything amiss?"

"Winry...." Hughes leaned forward, still smiling sadly. He understood her concern. He'd been through this before, the questions, the reassurances. It was only normal.

"I'm fine. A little bruised and battered, but I'm fine. Nothing out of place. Nothing out of sorts. Nothing's amiss. I know it's...hard to believe. Believe me, I know. You should have heard Roy, when he first saw me." He had to chuckle, remembering how his closest friend had accused him of being a trick.

She nodded pensively, imagining Mustang, how he must have reacted... how this new situation changed things, especially with him. She held a breath and looked down, cutting a piece of her breakfast too precisely.

She always did believe in speaking about things directly. But she did know how hard that was sometimes. This changed so much of her life, of her relationships. How would they deal with the inevitable encounter between the Colonel and her parents? She had to trust Mister Hughes to be understanding. He knew things. Things that people never expected of him.

"About that," She exhaled deeply and finally looked up, speaking as plainly as she could, regarding the situation, "My father is here."

Hughes pursed his lips thoughtfully, regarding Winry. There was something else going on, he wagered, but this was a delicate situation.

"You ran into him?" he asked, not wanting to bother her or make her upset by launching into a variety of questions. But generally...well, people made note of these things on the public board, or things got around.

She nodded slowly. That was pretty much how it had happened, just her luck.

"He was locked in a closet," She said, "I was already trying to break into it for supplies when I found him there, and-" She hesitated pointedly, becoming softer, "They did things to him." Notwithstanding the obvious point of bringing him back to life, if that was the case at all. It made more logical sense to suppose that none of them- Dad, Mom or Hughes- had actually died; perhaps brought to near death, or comatose state, and held in secret, with fake remains as decoys for their funerals, doctored to resemble them. She remembered reading an old tragedy like that, about a girl who faked her own death with poison (some kind of opiates, Winry would wager) so she could run away with her lover. This was a very different kind of situation, to say the least.

Hughes frowned. That...didn't sound quite right. Even for this place. And he hated being in this position, so he leaned forward and made sure his voice was as gentle as possible.

"Winry....I just want to prepare you for this possibility, okay? There's monsters here, at night, and some of them can...make themselves look like people. Usually people we care about. Are you sure it was your dad you ran into last night?"

Winry tried not to let her drop in emotions show as he spoke to her of suspicions she'd already had. There had been that one homunculus... were there more like him? Was it the same one here?

"He talked like Dad, and recognized me, and..." She tried to suppress her better judgments that told her she didn't remember her father's mannerisms so accurately. After all, she had been so young... "He begged me to help him. He said they'd changed him; there was something they put inside him that made him do that. He said my mom was here too and she could help, and-" She tried not to trip over her words, or cry, or both, "You're here, aren't you?" This many upsets in her schema of the realities of life and death in such a short time couldn't be healthy. She needed the truth, but at the same time, wasn't sure if she wanted it.

Hughes rested his chin in his hand and nodded. It could be hard to tell sometimes, he knew that. Hell, he'd almost...well, that didn't matter now. Roy had pulled him back from that.

"Alright, take a deep breath. We're gonna get this all worked out." He understood how it felt, when confronted with those sorts of tricks, and the wondering and confusion. Was it real? Wasn't it?

"Tell me exactly what happened, okay? We'll figure this out, I promise."

She took a breath, as he suggested, feeling lightheaded as she did so.

"I went up to the second floor, to find tools and other supplies in the janitor's closet. Ed and a few other people said they'd be there, so I thought I'd run to grab them first, and then go see my friend who got hurt on my first night. It was dark, and I was looking on one side for just a few seconds before I heard him say my name." It had seemed too convenient, when she retold the story, and she felt physically tense at the prospect of this being a cruel trick, "I was so relieved to see him. I thought it was possible, since Ed said you were back just fine. He told me about how they'd captured him and hoped I wasn't here too, how mom was also prisoner, and how we'd make it out together. I hugged him and-" She did start crying, "He... apologized, and said something about being hungry and there was a scream-" She tried to recollect what order things had happened in, "In a second he had... teeth- fangs. I was so confused, I tried to get away and then it hurt, and I hit him because I didn't know what to do, or if it was him, and I was bleeding and then he came at me again, and someone else came in and pushed him away-!" She stopped, after having sped to this climatic moment and lurching to a halt appropriate with the tone of the recollection. She breathed again. She was almost done. She could talk about this. As many times as needed if only she could get through it once, "He apologized again, said it was something controlling him; that they'd done it. He said I should get mom. I didn't want him to hurt anyone, so... I restrained him with cords before leaving. I knew he'd understand. I couldn't find mom before I just... blacked out, though. And now..." Now she had a half full breakfast plate before her that felt less appetizing in light of her story.

Hughes could only nod sadly. He'd heard that description before, just the people and specific words were different.

"Winry...aw, sweetheart, I hate to say this, but that sounds like one of the monsters that's running around at night. I've heard the same kind of story from a few people, and seen them talking about it on the board. They...they can look and act like people, and they try and get us alone and then...attack."

Though this one did sound a lot more intelligent than normal. As far as he knew, after they attacked, that was that. There was no...fake humanity left. That didn't quite match up.

"But...I don't know. I've never heard of one carrying on the act after attacking...."

Winry knew he was trying to make her feel better before dropping the likely truth on her, but still, she clenched as he called her 'sweetheart'. Like he was her father. She... she had a father! She did!

"It's not- It's different... yes! Yes, he came back to his senses," She would have reasoned that it was perhaps self defense in the face of an admittedly strong interceptor, but her emotions interfered with that. She wanted him alive. It was something she hadn't admitted to herself in years. She wanted mom and dad back.

"I'll do some poking around for you," Hughes said, because that was unusual. And hey, he knew this place could screw with people. Do things to them. There was definitely something wrong about the whole situation, but...

He wasn't sure quite what it was yet.

"I know some folks who have a more professional insight into what this place does, so I'll ask them about the experiments they do here. And about some of the monsters, see if we can figure out exactly what happened."

Rubbing her eyes, Winry calmed down slowly and nodded.

"I'll help you," she said, not an offer but an insistence, "If I'd only known before..." She hesitated, not wanting to scold him for having gotten into trouble for all his snooping- he was a grown man for godssake, and it was a sensitive subject, having killed him and all, but- "If I'd known... I would have at least been able to thank you."

She looked at him directly, "Thank you." For everything. For helping Ed and Al. For helping her. It was hard to explain just how she felt about this man of whom she rightfully knew so little. How much he'd helped all of them, beyond their knowledge.

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Day 34: Breakfast

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