damned_institute | Day 38: Patients' Library

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Day 38: Patients' Library

The intercom rang out, disrupting what had turned out to be a rather pointless breakfast conversation, at least in Brainiac 5's eyes. He couldn't wait to put more distance between himself and Scar's blather of how logic, of all things, might not work the same way in this dimension. It was almost enough to make him believe that the man may very well have been a lion originally after all, as he'd never heard anything so very... ignorant and uneducated.

He quickly finished up the fruit he'd been nibbling on - he was no longer as hungry as he had been - and looked around automatically to see where Clark was. Unfortunately with the press of people around, some being led off to the library and others to the mentioned 'therapy sessions' - if that was what they really were - he had lost sight of the Kryptonian. Still there wasn't many places he could go, so Brainiac 5 would be able to catch up with him eventually to check on his condition and try and learn more about what had happened last night. That the Chapel had healed him - admittedly by passing his injuries to another - was interesting, but far more important in his eyes was what had happened to Clark and his powers. They hadn't been working correctly and that worried the Coluan boy more than he would normally have admitted. Without Clark's abilities... he wasn't sure what they would have to rely on in order to escape.

Another problem he would have to deal with was Grell... or, if he was to believe the notes on the bulletin board, the person pretending to be Grell. But that was going to require more careful planning before he made a move. Come to think of it, he had agreed to meet another in the library today on that same post that had sparked this whole mess. At least then he would have something of interest to look forward to, as he doubted any of the 21st century books were likely to be worthwhile to someone of his advanced intellect.

Following the nurses led him to what must have been the library; a reasonably large room filled with a range of archaic books on tall shelves, a few tables and chairs interspersed around the room. The Coluan boy couldn't refrain from wrinkling his nose in distaste as he entered the room, not liking the cumbersome books and the dust that he knew would have gathered on them; he much preferred the clean arrangement of his C.O.M.P.U.T.O. systems back in the Legion headquarters. It was much more practical then shelves and shelves of books on fictional worlds and dated information.

Trying to avoid as much of the room as possible, Brainiac 5 settled himself down on a chair to wait, keeping an eye out for a tall, dark-haired man with a red... something on his forehead.

[for Homura]

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It had been rough, and what should have been a productive night had just fallen apart. It had been the last straw that had gotten him to throw caution to the wind in regards to the bulletin. Considering Sylar already knew that he was here and probably had a pretty good idea of where his room was, Peter didn't see any point in hiding. Getting the word out was more important - he just hoped people actually paid attention to it.

He didn't have the energy to put on a smile or try to act like things were any better than they were. He knew he tended to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he was just glad that Roland was being patient with him.

At the mention of the visitor, a whole other slew of unpleasant feelings were brought up, but Peter focused on answering the man. "No, no, that's all right. Things got pretty hectic, I guess. Umm... how've you been?" He didn't know if he could just bring himself to spill the beans about what had happened so easily, and it was unfair to dump everything on Roland. The man would probably see the bulletin message eventually, and then he would know.

'Hectic' was about right. Things were usually like that, but there was just something about this place that tended to make things a little frantic. Not so much for Roland, who was used to having to fend off inhuman monsters and having close friends die, but even he had suffered some shocks in this place. It would be even worse for those poor souls who hadn't been toughened up like the Lokapala had.

So he nodded a little, his voice as even as always. "Hanging in there, for the most part. Finally managed to get a decent weapon around here; hopefully that will help with the exploration. ...you?" He wasn't 'pressing,' so much, but he had the feeling that something was going on with Peter. Had to be; the only question was if the guy wanted to talk about it or if he wanted to be distracted. In that regard, Roland felt a bit out of his depth; he understood people, but he just didn't have Greg's knack for dealing with them. Didn't help that his people skills were a tiny bit rusty.

Glad to hear that the other man had gotten something he could really defend himself with, Peter was tempted to ask him about that instead of responding to Roland's own inquiry. Roland had probably asked merely out of courtesy - returning the favor - but Peter did feel compelled to answer.

"Well, yeah... you remember that guy I told you about? That enemy of mine?" Roland had already heard the whole story, and Peter doubted that Sylar was very easy to forget. "I ran into him again last night."

That was certainly an understatement, but explaining all of it wouldn't be easy. Being powerless like this - no, he'd had some power, but he hadn't been able to use it properly - was harder than he thought it would be.

"I was with a... friend," he added. Maybe Roland could infer from there.

"I couldn't forget," he evenly answered, and it was perfectly true. The light show between the two of them hadn't been something that Roland could easily forget, even if he'd wanted to. Part of him had wanted to stride into the conflict and eat them both, consume their power and make it his own. A part of him still wanted to; the demon that was never satisfied cried out for the flesh of those who were different, special, unique.

But he could ignore it. For the moment.

Instead, he listened to what Peter said, wondering at what could have happened. Meeting with someone as dangerous as his opponent had sounded like something that Peter had been prepared for, but perhaps such was not the case? It wasn't until the last addition that a little bit of it clicked. And if so, Roland knew better than anyone else how that had to feel. "Is 'was' the operative word?" It sounded rough, but it was Roland's way of trying to mitigate some of the difficulty of broaching an obviously painful subject.

Maybe it was rough, but for someone who was related to a man who was called a shark by the media, it seemed downright gentle. Peter was grateful for that, since while he would have been even more of a mess if it had been someone he'd really known, Elle's death was still overwhelming.

"Yeah," he responded, tone strained. His throat still hurt slightly from being strangled last night, but the pounding in his head made it a little less noticeable.

There wasn't really any way to respond to that, and Peter wasn't looking for condolences, but now he had at least given an explanation for the state he was in. Not wanting to dwell on the subject any further, he leaned back in his chair and glanced over at Roland. "So, you got a weapon? What is it?" He knew the subject change would be painfully obvious, but he had never been particularly discreet.

That explained it, then. Having someone lost like that, especially from a known quantity that Peter had been wanting to curb anyway, was always going to be rough. Of course, Roland couldn't help but feel a twinge of irony... if things really went to hell in a handbasket, Peter could wind up feeling exactly that way towards Roland himself. Perhaps even worse considering that Roland would not just massacre but brutally dismember whatever he killed.

Not a pleasant thought. He shook it, and the previous conversation, off with a smile and one last phrase. "I understand." And he did, too; perhaps better than most. At least the guy had made what he wanted so painfully clear that even Roland knew what he should be doing next?

His smile took on a slightly sharper slant as he explained, "I went digging down in the old mines outside of the Institute. Found some pick axes, pretty heavy but not cumbersome. The way I figure it, anything that can chip through solid stone should be able to do some damage to anything floating around here." More to the private point, it would keep him from having to use his own powers when confronted with danger.

While what Roland said was typical enough for someone who was trying to be comforting, Peter had to wonder if it really was true. Had the man been through something similar? Peter was starting to realize that he knew very little about Roland - usually their talks involved him rambling on about one thing or another. It made him feel a little guilty, unless Roland would rather keep all of that to himself.

Perking up at the mention of mines and pick axes, Peter was surprised to hear that the man had covered so much ground. He thought back to hazy images of that wall that bordered the field, the one he had been trying to protect (and which Roland must have scaled last night), and then forced those thoughts away.

"Makes sense to me," he said with a brief nod. His shovel had done him well so far, but a pick axe sounding like it would be equally helpful, if not more so. He also realized that he might have lost that shovel last night, but he was lucky enough to have a spare. "So you got that far out? What was there besides mines?" So far, Peter's travels had stayed within the building for the most part, but if it sounded like there was merit in moving outward, maybe he would give it a try.

Well, it wasn't as though Roland was going to open up about such experiences. Long habit, mostly; previously he had someone else to hear him out, and after that, everyone already knew about his problems, it was pointless to speak about it again. The only company he'd needed, or so he'd thought, had been his extensive alcohol collection. Only after the Embryon, and Fred, had broken through his booze-soaked depression had he finally felt like opening up... and by that time, it was too late, there were much larger things on the horizon that he had to deal with. So why bother speaking when it'd not done him any good in years?

Instead, he did what was normal for him; went to discussing the present and future, not so much the dwelling in the past. There had been quite a bit of exploration done, and he sincerely hoped that he could get more done in the future. Hopefully, with his comrades in their current states, there'd be something found to be consumed as well. It wasn't just a joke anymore... if nothing could be found, then they were all royally screwed. Not that he'd tell many normal people about it, of course. "The mines went pretty deep, so I had to go back to find them. Other than that, there were some quarries, but I didn't see anything of value there. I might try another direction at this rate."

Well, that was disappointing. Peter knew he shouldn't have expected much, and the fact that pick axes were something notable was pretty depressing in and of itself. But the fact that Roland was willing to keep trying also made Peter feel better. Things needed to get done, after all, and that wasn't going to happen unless everyone kept at it.

"Might be a good idea," he agreed. "You'll have to let me know if you ever hit the jackpot." Peter wasn't even sure what the jackpot would be - a storeroom of weapons, a clue about how to get out of here and back home? - but Roland would hopefully get the basic sentiment there.

"Last night, I was trying to get upstairs and find my brother's file. It didn't work out, but someone else picked it up for me." He was grateful to the patient who had done so, and he had to remember to go grab it from M3 tonight - as well as figure out what he was going to do with the rest of the time.

"I wouldn't advise holding your breath, but if I do find something, I'll let you know," the pale man affirmed, getting the general idea of what Peter was looking for. It was a shame that there were such slim pickings, but... he got the impression that Peter came from a different kind of world, perhaps one where God hadn't gone mad. For Roland, finding anything that helped even the odds was a tremendous thing; perhaps that was a benefit of living in the world he'd been cursed with. By contrast, a place like this wasn't so bad.

Even still, hearing the latter part of Peter's story brought Roland's attention back to the conversation he was currently in. "You have a brother?" That was interesting information, and Roland had to admit that he didn't know much about Peter either. The files he knew a very little about, but... at least he'd found someone else to get the file for him. It was rather surprising, considering how selfish most of the patients seemed to be.

Peter was surprised with himself - had he really not mentioned Nathan to Roland yet? He had even told the man about his possible visitation, so he would have thought he'd have gone into details, but maybe there just hadn't been the time for it. He nodded slightly, not wanting to move his head too much unless the throbbing got worse.

"Yeah, an older brother. He's the one who visited me. He was here, but... well, the institute made him really think that he was who they said he was." And while that was painful to deal with, it meant that Peter had a goal, and he'd also had things put in perspective by last night's events. He still wished he could take them back, that he could go back in time (which wasn't such an impossibility for him) and do something differently, but that wasn't doable not here.

He wasn't sure what else to say about Nathan. There was a lot to say, but at the same time he didn't want to dwell on it when it was just going to make his mood worse.

Of course, the last time that they'd met, Peter had been thinking a great deal about Sylar and the threat that he posed... ironically enough, talking about whether Peter should or should not post his warnings to the general public. It seemed like the choice had been made already, hadn't it? A shame, but that was just how it was; at least he was going to get some kind of information out of this. More than just dry facts and suppositions.

Still, he hadn't thought that the Institute would go so far as to turn someone's brother against them. That was just hitting below the belt, so far as Roland was concerned. Even moreso, because it was a tactic that he himself had used previously. The demon nodded slightly, then offered, "They did the same to me. An old friend of mine, someone I trusted with my life. ...it's ironic." Especially considering what had happened between the two of them in the end.

Roland's eyes adopted a more distant look as he thought about that. For most people, this place was hell on earth, a purgatory of suffering that seemed impossible to escape. But if he was a demon, then wasn't 'hell' the perfect place for him? In the end, he asked, "...I know this is a stupid question, but you want to go back to your own world, don't you?"

Peter's expression immediately turned from a quietly determined look to a frown when Roland revealed that he had also been visited. He knew it must not have been easy for the man, especially since it sounded like whoever had come to see him was as good as a brother. Peter didn't see the irony in it, and he would have asked about it if Roland hadn't followed the comment up with another question.

It was strange, and seemingly out of nowhere, but Peter had to assume that Roland was going somewhere with it. "Well, yeah," he affirmed, and he could have left it at that, but he might as well give Roland the whole picture. "Not until I get my brother back, though.

"I guess some people don't think the visitors are really their friends or family, but I'm almost sure that -- that the man who came to see me was Nathan." He realized that some people hadn't had their visitors in the institute with them beforehand, which was where the confusion came from, but he wasn't going to stop believing in it unless he was proved wrong.

Perhaps it was better for the question not to be raised, and perhaps that was why Roland followed up his comment so quickly, almost as though he'd realized his mistake. The matter with Greg was a sensitive one, and one he sometimes referenced without thinking. But had he done so... well, that was in the past now. Roland tried his best not to think about his friend unless there was some liquid courage to help him down that path.

Still, the answer was what he'd expected, and he nodded at the explanation. Roland himself was certain that his visitor was real and not some mere copy that the Institute had made, which weighed the problem even more in his mind. How could he abandon Greg again? It seemed like Peter understood... more than Roland would admit out loud, anyway. "I agree; I'm of the opinion that our visitors really are the people we knew before. Which is why I asked what I did. If..." He paused for a moment, trying to think of how to ask his question before he finally decided, "...the world you came from was worse than where you are right now, would you really want to take Nathan back?"

It was a relief to find someone else who agreed with his view of things, and Peter relaxed when he heard it. It wasn't enough to make everything that had happened better, but it helped his mood just slightly.

But the hypothetical question got the gears turning in his head. Roland had to be asking this for a reason, after all, which probably meant that wherever he came from wasn't somewhere he necessarily wanted to be. Peter had never considered that someone would be in that situation, but he could understand how hard it would be to come to terms with.

"You mean... stay here?" he asked, glancing around the room they were in, but meaning that whole building. "Or just... in this world?" Beyond Doyleton, he didn't know what the rest of this world was like, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they could just get out of the institute. He personally still wanted to get to his real home, but in Roland's case, maybe it took some more thinking.

"Haven't thought that far ahead," he admitted with a wry smile, "I've only seen the outside at night time, and I haven't even gotten to town except for those few bus rides. Could be the same as it is here." In which case the question was academic, wasn't it? One change was the same as the others, there was no real difference to be found. Except that in town there would be a few more freedoms during the day, perhaps.

Ah well. It seemed like Peter was listening, which was all Roland needed. Just someone to listen to him think out loud and see what happened after that. "...of course, it could be better as well. I suppose it depends on how far the influence from this place goes, doesn't it?"

"Pretty much," Peter agreed. But there wasn't really any way of figuring that out, seeing how the furthest they ever got to go was to Doyleton, and he doubted that much ground could be covered even during the night shift. Which meant that the only real option was a true escape, but the solution to that problem seemed as elusive now as it had when he had first woken up here.

That didn't mean he was going to give up, though, especially when he knew people were relying on him. Peter realized that he kept telling himself that, but it did make him feel a little better.

"I guess it doesn't matter either way if this place is already better than home, though," he pointed out. It was hard to imagine a place worse than Landel's, but he also wasn't surprised that such a place existed.

"It matters if I don't want to spend the rest of my life fighting inhuman monsters," Roland pointed out with an almost-teasing level of sagacity, but the point did stand. If he was going to be a coward and walk away from his own world, he might as well go for a jackpot instead of just a booby prize. Of course, he hadn't decided what course of action he was going to take, but at the least, he knew that he had those options. Home was where the heart was... and for Roland, that was his comrades and his friends. In other words, in a real sense, this was 'home' far more than the other place had wound up being.

Ah well. It had to be getting close to that time, and he'd spent more than enough of Peter's time as it was. So the pale man stood up, offering his hand to the other guy. "...but that's enough about that for now. Stay safe, all right?"

"Guess you'd better figure it out, then," Peter joked in return. Part of him really wanted to know what Roland's home was like after the hints that he had gotten about it, but now obviously wasn't the time for that. He would just have to make sure to track down the man again some other time. They seemed to have a tendency to run into each other.

As Roland stood up, Peter did as well, grasping his hand and nodding. "You too," he said, firmly. After just letting someone's life slip through his fingers, he really couldn't afford to lose someone else who he was starting to get to know.

That taken care of, Peter exited the library out into the Sun Room, fully intending to check that bulletin board.

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Day 38: Patients' Library

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