damned_institute | Day 37: Sun Room (4th Shift)

Entry tags:

Day 37: Sun Room (4th Shift)

There were still too many things on Armand's mind for him to truly relax. The morning with Alec had been a help. And seeing that TK was going to be well helped him know that it was time to work out something else, but what? He'd already, without success again, tried to reach one of the club leaders about his sole idea of something new and different. Maybe it was hopeless.

There was no way he was going to play with paper and glue like a small child, and he glared at the nurse as best he could until she gave up on the idea. There was a free chair in the Sun Room--in fact, there were many free chairs--where he settled down to see what the new patients looked like. Prisoners, not patients. He felt bad that he had to remind himself. Even if he was crazy, he wasn't going to give in to Dr. Landel's game, not today. He nibbled on an overgrown cuticle and kept an eye on the room. No dozing today.

[for Citan]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It probably wasn't a good idea to dwell or anything, but Angel found himself in a quiet corner regardless, sketching Buffy's face with an absent focus that suggested either he was just that good or he'd done this way too many times than was healthy. (It was the latter.)

Still, it took his mind off things for a bit. There was little to think about until they dug up more information tonight and even then, he had a strong suspicion it would only raise more questions or cause more confusion. Possibly both and then some.

The best he was hoping for, really, was that no one would get clawed up tonight. Again. If he didn't know better, he'd say the cats were exacting revenge for all the times they were used in kitten poker.

[for Tempy and Willow. Confusion galore is a go~]

Upon entering the Sun Room, Brennan perused the bulletin board carefully for any new useful information, but unfortunately none was forthcoming. She was still inexplicably trapped in a strange place.

Perhaps there would be something worthwhile in the library. It wasn't likely, considering the level of coordination evidenced by her captors thus far, but she might as well try.

As she walked toward the library door, a man sitting in the corner caught her eye.

... No. That was highly improbable.

"Booth?" she called, walking quickly towards him. "They got you too? How?" She paused, observing him. He looked different, on an almost imperceptible level. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. "I have a number of questions for you, but first tell me you're alright and you know where Hodgins is."

Angel was already looking up as a woman fast approached him, but he wasn't sure what to expect until she actually spoke up. At which point, he was too surprised to do much other than blink.

"I'm sorry, I don't -- " He sat up a little and closed his journal. "I think you have the wrong person."

But she sounded so sure of herself. And given what he already knew of the whole fictional and parallel universes, it was slowly occurring to him that this case of mistaken identity might actually be...

Oh God, no.

He wasn't going to think about it just yet. Just the notion was giving him a headache already.

"No..." Brennan began slowly. He didn't remember her? Or his own name, apparently.

He couldn't have been here more than a day, two at the very outside. It was impossible... well, very very unlikely, that anyone could have brainwashed him in that short a span of time. It took months at the least, usually years to fully recondition someone's cognitive processes.

"Your name is Seeley Booth," she said loudly.

That wouldn't help.

"Try to think about things you know. Me? Your partner? You know, Bones." She didn't like that nickname, but maybe it would help him remember. "What about your son? Parker. He's blond, and about... this tall." She held her hand out at about the height Parker had been the last time she'd seen him, though considering that boys Parker's age grew an average of five centimeters a year, he might be a bit taller by now.

Angel opened his mouth to protest on instinct before realizing that getting into how it was physically impossible for him to have a son wouldn't help. He paused a moment. He hadn't ever encountered a situation like this before, and it left him a bit lacking in terms of what he was supposed to do. Usually, there was more tangible proof of something strange going on (say, a lunging demon) when he had to convince people about these kinds of things.

"How much do you know about what's happening?" he asked finally, not bothering to question if she was new. She clearly was, or she wouldn't have asked about her (friend? Whoever Hodgins was supposed to be) with that sense of immediacy.

"A lot," Brennan answered quickly. "It would take a considerable amount of time to sum up what I've deduced." She sat down next to him, backhanding his knee lightly. "You know I'm very clever."

And it was for that very fact that this situation worried her. She had no memory beyond setting off the makeshift bomb and beginning to climb to the surface. But considering that all her injuries had ostensibly healed, she must have been unconscious for approximately a week. In that time, it was plausible for someone to have kidnapped Booth, but decidedly less so for them to have successfully altered his mental faculties to the point where he no longer recognized her.

She'd thought she would be difficult to erase from his mind. Parker too.

"What are you drawing?" she asked, hoping to find a way in through whatever they had conditioned him to believe. If she could prove that to be a set of false memories or personality traits, perhaps she could make him remember his true self. Not bothering to wait for permission, she craned her neck over to study his half-finished sketch.

The sunlight shining down through the skylight actually felt very nice, and Willow almost asked her nurse if she could go out into the courtyard for this shift instead. She had a distinct feeling the answer would be 'no,' though, so she didn't ask and simply curled up on a free armchair by herself, notebook and one of the pens in hand. Angel was sitting in a corner on the other side of the room, but she decided to leave him alone this time. He looked like he needed it, and she had some thinking to do anyway.

So, where to start? They needed to learn more about where they were, obviously, but... maybe she needed to write down everything she'd learned already first, just to clear her head. And that was the difficult part. Should she start with the monsters, or with whoever Leslie was supposed to be?

Willow had barely touched pen tip to paper before she absentmindedly glanced up and noticed an unfamiliar woman talking to Angel. That in and of itself wasn't so strange; it was the fact that she was acting as if she knew him, and that Angel was looking utterly confused. Willow frowned, wondering what was going on. After silently debating for a moment whether or not to go over and find out, she slowly stood up and stepped towards them. She needed to talk to Angel about tonight, anyway.

"Hey... Angel?" she asked as she came to a stop next to them. "I forgot to tell you something important. About tonight." She glanced curiously over at the other woman. "What's going on?"

When she patted his knee, Angel just looked down at her hand, growing more and more at a loss. He knew she was -- ?

What. Okay. That wasn't the answer he had been hoping she'd grant him to give a nice transition into an explanation of what might be going on. Although he was starting to think he had no idea himself.

As the woman (had he heard her right, when she said her name was Bones?) bent down, Willow chose that exact moment to arrive and it was at that point that Angel decided to give up any semblance of trying to take control of the situation.

"I don't know," he admitted, glancing back at the woman. "We seem to be having a bit of an -- identity crisis."

"No, his name's Booth," Brennan pointed out as the redhead approached them. 'Angel' must be who their captors wanted Booth to believe he was, which was... an odd name. "Why would they want you to think you were called Angel?" she asked, not certain whom she was addressing. It was unlikely either Booth or the newcomer would be aware of the answer to that question.

Speaking of the newcomer... early twenties, West Coast accent, and not an athlete, though she appeared in decent physical shape. She also had red hair, which piqued Brennan's curiosity, as she had observed a statistically disproportionate number of redheads and blondes amongst the so-called "patients."

"Well, I know my name, and I know your name," she said in answer to Booth. "Although..." She looked up at the younger woman standing over them. "...we don't know each other's names. I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute." She turned to look at her partner. "So it would seem the only person having an identity crisis is you, Booth."

...Booth?

"Um... I'm Willow," she said in reply, mostly because she was at a loss for anything else to say and it seemed like the best thing to do first. "And... believe me, he's definitely Angel. I've known him for... six years now." An idea occurred to the redhead suddenly and she turned to address Angel again. "Unless your name was Booth before you were a va - um, before." Considering the circumstances, maybe it wasn't a good idea to make things any more confusing than they probably already were for Dr. Brennan.

Where on earth did she recognize him from, anyway? Angel kept to himself, as far as Willow knew, so unless Dr. Brennan met him in L.A. somewhere...

Or did this have something to do with the fictional universes thing again?

If there was one upside to having a visual memory like his, it was that Angel could usually pinpoint exactly who he had or hadn't ever met before over the course of his very long unlife. He definitely hadn't ever seen this woman.

This would've been easier if Temperance was as confused as they all were, but her confidence was making it hard to broach the entire I think we might be experiencing a doppelganger effect topic which, however bizarre, was at least something he knew a little bit about. Although he had to admit, this was a somewhat different situation. Willow's doppelganger, when it'd happened, had still been Willow in origin. Temperance seemed to be talking about someone else entirely, just with the same...face?

Huh.

He looked over at Willow for a second. "No, it's -- " The name wasn't even Irish. He shook his head slightly, returning his attention back to Temperance.

"All right, look, I'm not...who you think I am. You probably know someone who looks like me back home, back where you came from. It's a little complicated," he said, almost apologetically. "I can explain, but I need to know what you've learned so far about what's going on here."

It'd be easier if she'd already heard the parallel dimensions theory from another patient, but something told him he wouldn't be that fortunate.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Day 37: Sun Room (4th Shift)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject