damned_institute | Nightshift 40: East Wing, Hall A (First Floor)

The hallway was deserted, but Peter wasn't too surprised. It didn't seem like most patients were interested in finding out more about their doctors, which supported his theory that he was one of the only ones who actually knew this therapist. It made him wonder why he'd been picked out, until he realized that Daphne might be going to see Mohinder as well.

If she even knew him. Somehow he'd forgotten to ask about both that and her powers. He was going to have to find her tomorrow.

For now, though, he wanted to give the man's office a proper search. He moved down the hall and stopped in front of the right door, having committed it to memory last night. "I'll break it down this time," he quickly spoke up before Brooklyn could jump to the task.

How had he and Nate met? Brooklyn blinked at the question. "Well, I'd been looking for someone to help out and he made it known that he fit the requirement." Pushy little guy, really, but the gargoyle was still willing to believe the kid was just spoiled. "It all just kinda went from there."

When Peter offered to break in the door, he was a little surprised but stepped back anyway. He was perfectly capable, but he wasn't going to stop the other man if he was determined to do it.

So the two had met here. That crushed Peter's theory that Nate was another gargoyle, although it made him curious about a few more things. "So you needed help with something? What was it?" He was honestly unsure why Brooklyn hadn't asked him for help, but maybe Peter had been busy with at the time. He had definitely been distracted while Nathan was around, and then there had been the Special Counseling night, not to mention his different run-ins with Sylar after that...

"I, uhh, I'm sorry I wasn't there to help too," he said before the young man could answer. After all, Brooklyn was here now, helping him. The least Peter could do was return the favor sometime.

For now, though, he needed to get this door open. He was glad that Brooklyn wasn't putting up a fight about it, and so Peter first set his flashlight down on the floor so that he could take his shovel in both hands. He turned it horizontal and then pointed it toward the door. Once he was ready, he jerked forward and jammed the shovel against the door, approximately where the lock should be.

If he did that a few more times, it would hopefully do the trick.

Peter's response had Brooklyn chuckling a bit and shaking his head. Clearly, the man had misunderstood his statement. "When I said I was looking for someone to help out, I meant that I was looking for someone to help. Period. I was standing around waiting for someone to come along who looked like they were lost, or in need of a companion to explore with. If I'd known the layout of the place better I might have gone looking for someone already in trouble."

He shrugged, leaning against the wall as Peter worked. "Gargoyles have a very protective nature. My clan leader could go on and on about it, but really it's just what we do." Save for those one or two that had lost their way, but Demona had her mind warped by multiple betrayals on both sides and had a thousand years to deepen her insanity. Thailog had just been created wrong from the start.

The first try didn't do the job all the way, but it was a good start. As the head of the shovel clanged against the door, Peter felt shocks of pain reverberate up his arms. It was enough to make him grit his teeth, but that was all. It wasn't like he hadn't been braced for it.

As he readjusted for another try, he listened to Brooklyn's clarification with some surprise. People didn't normally go out of their way looking for someone to help, so he wasn't even sure what to think at first. He knew he could be self-sacrificial at times, but he also put a lot of energy into the people he already cared about rather than going out and looking for anyone he might be able to help.

"Well, that's really admirable," he said, and he sent his friend a fond look, though he was also obviously impressed. "I... hope he doesn't need your help now, then," he said with a frown. Theoretically, Nate would have let Brooklyn know if that was the case, but what if he hadn't been able to?

Still, there wasn't much they could do about it now. Taking another deep breath, Peter stepped forward and shoved his shovel against the lock a second time. This time it did break, forcing the door partway open in the process.

"There we go." Peter quickly bent down to collect his flashlight and then rushed into the room, not wanting to waste any more time.

As Peter exited out into the hallway, he was greeted by the voices of two patients who were probably also looking to break into one of the rooms. He didn't recognize either of them, but they did seem to make an unlikely pair.

Then again, he and Brooklyn probably did too.

"So... if we go left from here, that'll take us to the greenhouse, I think..." It had been a while since he'd gone that way, seeing how he'd opted out this past dayshift, but he didn't think he was wrong.

"Otherwise we can go right and maybe find a staircase or something," he said with a shrug. It was a lot harder to pick where to go when you didn't know what you were looking for.

Brooklyn wrinkled his nose at the smell of cigarette smoke in the hallway. It would have been more irritating if his senses were up to their usual gargoyle standard, but he didn't want to think too hard about any favors this human body might be doing for him.

He kept his focus on the problem at hand. "I don't know if the greenhouse would be the safest of places to visit at night. At least if we head upstairs I'd know some of the area." Going out into that at night in this place was just asking for sequences straight out of a horror movie. He didn't even want to know what this place did to the plants after dark. The teasing he and June-pay had done during their time in the greenhouse came back to him, and for just a moment it didn't seem nearly as funny.

"Sounds good to me," Peter replied, especially since he hadn't been that eager on checking out the greenhouse anyway. Upstairs sounded a lot more promising, and he just hoped that Brooklyn didn't mind that he might be seeing some of the same places that he'd been to already. If anything, they could just make sure to check out spots he hadn't yet seen for himself.

They shouldn't waste any more time, though, and so Peter took it upon himself to lead them back toward the main hall. The good thing was that a lot of the areas that were more traveled toward the beginning of the night should be emptier now, which would hopefully make it easier for them to get places quickly.

[[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/606039.html?thread=51125079#t51125079)]]

Sasuke activated the Sharingan for a moment as he rounded the corner, just in time to catch the trail of Itachi's unmistakable chakra moving calmly, almost casually, through the Greenhouse door. As if not expecting pursuit -- had he not seen Sasuke?

Or, more likely, had he seen Sasuke and assumed that Sasuke would be unable to follow him?

There was tension rocketing through Sasuke's body, from the clench of his fists to the grind of his teeth, but he forced himself to stop right in front of the door and take a slow, deep breath. He couldn't afford to face Itachi without being fully prepared in every sense, as more than evidenced by their last encounters. Needed a clear mind, cold calculation, emotionless combat readiness.

But he couldn't afford to take too much time in preparation, either. Sasuke took one more deep breath, and then shoved the door open.

[[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/615933.html)]]

[From here]

...And stopped a few paces into the hallway. Empty.

"Ok, catch your breath. You alright?" Badou grinned. "I didn't know those stubby legs moved so slow. Maybe I should have carried you after all."

Artemis stopped to catch his breath, not completely winded, but tired enough to take even, deep breaths. It must have been the 'running for your life' thing that had caused such a panicked run.

"No, no, I can run on my own," Artemis said, giving Badou an irate look. "...so. Your doctor."

The irate look only seemed to encourage Badou's grin. He just cocked an eyebrow, mocking. He figured Artemis could use a little recovery time before they ventured into potentially monster-filled offices which, incidentally, weren't so different from the day.

Badou tilted his head back and blew smoke into the air. "I thought we agreed last night that you weren't going to borrow more trouble? What if you need to outrun it?"

Artemis sighed as Badou dodged the topic. Well, he couldn't do it for very long. They were, after all, in a hallway filled with doctor's offices.

"I didn't borrow it this time, it was merely a coincidence," Artemis said, waving the comment away and crossing his arms. "And if I need help running, I'll be sure to ask--how does that strike you?"

Edited 2009-05-03 05:21 (UTC)

Badou laughed quietly. "Damn, you're so stubborn."

Artemis probably wasn't going to let it go until he was sure Badou was fine. And he was fine. But he figured the sooner he stopped being a pussy about the subject, the easier it would be to convince Artemis of that fact.

"There's not much to say about it besides what I told you already. I thought she was something - someone else, but she's just using the information they gave her to fuck with her patients. She played me. That's all." He hadn't come to that conclusion when he'd talked to Artemis last night, but he'd gotten most of what he wanted out of the bulletin post. He flicked his cigarette away and didn't light another one. "I'm just really pissed off. I don't know if they found that shit in my head or if they ripped it right out of my partner's when they took his goddamn spine."

Artemis listened to Badou, glad that he finally got him to talk. He hadn't been certain if the session was still bothering him, or if it was something completely different. He didn't know anything about Badou's partner's spine (and frankly, considering the damage that was still being done to his, Artemis figured he didn't want to know), but he felt the most likely situation was that upon entry, information had been taken concerning their true lives--in order to test their sanity to the utmost limit.

"Anything's possible," Artemis said truthfully, his tone surprisingly sympathetic. "The first time I met with my new doctor, he used... something to wipe my memory of the session. That wasn't just information used to toy with me--that was something else altogether. The same might be true of your doctor... considering the state of your wrist."

"...And you're counselling me about psycho doctors?" He didn't hide the fact that he was looking Artemis over for any mysterious bruises he'd missed but the pissed off look on his face didn't change. The more he found out about this place, the less awesome he thought their pancakes tasted. Free food definitely wasn't worth this shit.

He seemed to reconsider and lit up another cigarette before offering his wrist to Artemis. It made sense now why he was so worried about a little bruise. "It's not that bad. She just grabbed it a couple of times and squeezed really hard. She might have a crush on me." Ha, bad pun. The bruise was still black but he thought the old scar from the knife wound looked uglier. "I don't think she would have bothered to sedate me that way if she could do anything fancier."

Artemis gave Badou a wry smile. "I've been through two sessions with him, and the last one, nothing happened. I only knew something had happened the first time because suddenly I found myself on the floor--as though I had been trying to escape. Last time he was only interested in how I knew Haku had been fighting."

The boy's eyebrows came together when he was treated to an up-close version of the bruise on Badou's wrist. If this had happened only a few days ago and it still looked this bad, she could have broken his wrist with this sort of pressure. Artemis wasn't an expert, but those who spent their lives in medical school didn't usually also train to break people's wrists by crushing them.

Artemis raised his hands to take a better look, assuring Badou that he would be gentle with it. As his fingers approached the bruise, Artemis felt his back suddenly flare up with pressure, and a shower of blue sparks jumped off his fingers and palms towards Badou's wrist. Shocked, he immediately closed his hands and took a few steps away from Badou.

He hadn't even thought about healing it. Normally, magic would immediately begin treatment on the host, but Artemis had never seen it jump off a host involuntarily and without physical contact. It was a new side-effect, and one that he didn't like.

"I-I'm sorry Badou, I didn't mean to do that..." he said, looking a little pale.

Artemis didn't seem too shaken up about the doctor shift at least, so Badou let it go for now. It was weird that the doctor would ask him about Haku fighting but that was probably just the usual manipulative garbage.

Badou let him look, calmly puffing away at his cigarette. He even shook his head at the assurance. He wasn't a delicate flower and Arty was no bruiser. Besides, the whole point was for Artemis to see that he didn't need to worry --

Badou reacted without thinking, dodging sideways with a curse when the sparks leaped out of Artemis' fingers. He was more startled than anything, and he felt stupid for moving at all since he wasn't hurt as far as he could tell. Damn, Arty was a walking fireworks display these days.

He took a step towards the boy, slightly cautious in case he was freaked out enough to bolt. "Ok. It's ok, come back here."

It took a moment for Artemis to process what Badou was saying, but once he did he approached Badou cautiously.

"It wouldn't have hurt you," he said, probably more for his own benefit than Badou's. "It... it was trying to heal your wrist. I think. Magic will usually heal any wounds the carrier obtains automatically, but for other separate forms, physical contact and the commanding thought are necessary. I don't know why that happened."

Or why it hadn't happened before when Badou had come into contact with him to ruffle his hair, pull on his face, tackle him, et cetera. He hadn't been thinking about Badou's injury then, he supposed. And when he had been, his hands hadn't been very close. The injury was also, comparatively, very minor. There were so many variables, it was impossible to know what had caused it specifically.

"But it wouldn't have hurt you," Artemis repeated, still sounding a little shaken. He didn't want Badou to think that he would have hurt him--even involuntarily.

Badou didn't know how he could be sure. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and for someone who knew pretty much nothing about magical whatever that wasn't exactly reassuring. He barely understood Artemis' explanation.

So, ok, he was a freak and he could probably accidentally kill him but that was almost everyone Badou knew. The redhead looked perfectly calm. Instead of arguing or agreeing with Artemis he said: "So you can heal now? Huh, that's cool. Does it drain you out?"

Artemis shook his head. "No, I don't feel a drain. And I could heal myself and others before--not very long before, but I was able to steal some magic before I arrived here. It's a long, complex story.

"However, it's a physical entity, and thus it can be depleted," he looked at his hand sadly. "I used all of it after Mello stabbed me. There wasn't enough to heal Renji when he was dying the next night."

And now he had it back. Too little too late, obviously. "But considering it's acting more virulent than usual, I don't think it's safe to use it to heal anyone until I can test it."

Stabbed--? Man, Badou had to learn to stop asking questions. Not only did he manage to learn that, but he'd also brought up the death of Artemis' friend in pretty much the same breath. Sometimes it was hard being such a smooth talker.

"So test it." He replied, sounding slightly exasperated for the first time. He held out his wrist again. "Don't get me wrong, I don't want to die, but if you're going to figure out how to deal with this you might as well start somewhere and this thing is annoying. It's better than fucking up a stab wound or something, right?"

Artemis looked down at Badou's wrist hesitantly. He'd much prefer if the subject was someone he didn't really care about--at least himself in a pinch. But what if he rendered Badou's wrist completely immobile?

On the other hand, how exactly could he botch healing a bruise? It wasn't exactly brain surgery. After worrying his lip for almost a full minute and staring intently at Badou's wrist, he finally gave in.

"Alright," he said finally. "If it's annoying you, I'll take care of it." He winced mentally at how much that sounded like he was passing the buck to Badou. Concentrating on keeping the magic at bay, he raised his hands around Badou's wrist (and really, it felt like he was a giant bladder in extreme pain). His forehead started to take on a light sheen of sweat as he physically tried to keep it inside. But it wanted to get out. There was too much of it inside him, and the magic was aching to get out and do its job.

Finally, Artemis let it go with a small, soft mental command: Heal.

Much like a very sensitive faucet, the blue sparks shot out of Artemis' hands and ran the length of Badou's arm--all the way up to his shoulder and down his fingertips.

[Typically, his magic is supposed to screw up majorly, but I can't figure out how to screw up a bruise. ^^;; So he's okay! Physically, the magic should feel kind of warm and happy. And any scratches he has... pretty much anywhere should be gone as well.]

Badou watched the sparks for a moment then closed his eye. He wasn't just kidding around when he said he thought it was cool. He'd expected it to hurt a little he guessed but it was just a warm, almost comforting sensation.

He heard himself murmur, "Damn, that's really good." But by that point he was opening his eye again and reminding himself how insanely stupid it had been to close it. Hadn't they gotten a little sidetracked?

"Hey, don't waste it all." Artemis was working hard. They should have done this in a room where it was safer... Come to think of it, they really shouldn't have tried this at all. A little too late for that consideration as usual.

[Internal bleeding? It's hard to mess up bruises. XD Maybe he can be confident enough now to mess up something more dire in the future. :|b]

[Exactly. :|b]

As if on cue, Artemis turned away, cutting off the magic flow. He took a few deep, shaky breaths. He wasn't tired or even overexerted. The stress of the situation and the effort he'd expended had tired his mind and his muscles. He was, however, feeling a little less like an overfilled water balloon.

He turned back when he felt it was safe and he had a hold on himself. "It's okay, right?" Badou wasn't screaming in agony, so perhaps he'd done it correctly this time. "Is the bruise gone?"

Badou let him take his time, but in the meantime he scanned the hallway as best he could for anything that might have been attracted by the smell of people with their guard down. Still empty.

Then he checked his wrist, prodding it none to carefully with his fingers. He grinned. "Like magic." Despite the flippant remark, anyone paying close attention might detect an undercurrent of real admiration in there. "Thanks, Arty. I think you even got the freckles. This magical puberty thing you're going through has its upsides."

Artemis' shoulders relaxed in clear relief. Alright, so, perhaps this wasn't such a terrible thing. Granted he felt like it was always out of his control, but clearly if he concentrated...

The boy resumed his smirk, though it was a little worn out and softened by the relief he felt. "I can honestly say that I'm glad I was able to help. It was a huge effort, but perhaps you're right. Perhaps this curse is more of a gift after all."

He blinked, looking down both ends of the hallway. "No one saw that... right?"

"I think the secret's safe. No one would believe you were capable of making such cute expressions anyway Little Artykins." Badou teased, well aware of how absolutely terrible it sounded. Artemis could see for himself that the hall was still empty, so he figured 'it's safe' went without saying.

"So now that we're both warm and fluffy, lets go regain our manliness by doing some breaking and entering and setting things on fire."

Artemis felt a muscle go in his face. That hadn't been what he was referring to at all. Then again it was Badou--Badou who would twist anything around given half a chance and the right set-up. He let that one slide, though, in favor of:

"Setting things... on fire?" Artemis had been under the impression that they were going to get a file--not set one on fire. Though if Badou wanted to take revenge by setting his doctor's office on fire... Well, Artemis didn't have any moral objection to it. No one would be killed, after all.

"Well, if you like," Artemis said, chuckling to himself and pulling out his lock-picking syringe. "Which one is her office? I've picked the locks on these doors before, it shouldn't take me long."

Badou did his best not to laugh, which, as usual, meant he was gloating like a champion. If he was reading it correctly, that face meant 'I'm really going to punch you in the mouth one day.' Truly a statement all friendships were built on.

"For therapeutic purposes." Badou assured him. He didn't have any fuel so setting the whole office on fire was out of the question, but with the kind of neat freak Makiko was he could still leave her something special. He beckoned Artemis forward a bit to office number three. "This one. I'll keep watch."

"It's not going to hurt anyone, so whatever you want to do is fine," Artemis said with a small shrug. It was towards the end of the night anyway--the odds of someone wanting to enter this specific room were very small.

He pulled his blazer off, tucking it safely to the side, and uncapped the syringe. The jacket was comfortable, but Artemis found it restricted delicate movements just slightly. Plus, he felt a little warm.

"The doctors are here for therapeutic reasons--so if burning down her office is going to help," The lock clicked open. Artemis had been working barely thirty seconds. "So much the better." He tested the knob and the door swung open. He'd opened this particular door before as well, so he supposed that helped.

"After you," he said, waving Badou ahead of him.

"You're opposed to me hurting people now?" Badou asked, mostly not expecting an answer. The click came in no time. Artemis was faster at this than him. How many locks did a rich brat have to pick? ...Maybe quite a few, actually, if he wasn't that rich to begin with but Badou doubted that. He probably just broke into the kitchen at night to get smashed while listening to Beethoven.

After a last glace around the hallway (a couple of people just passing through) Badou moved past him into the doctor's office. With anyone else he'd complain about being the appetizer but he figured Arty would make a poor meat shield anyway.

[To here.]

(From the Smoking Office here. :| (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/621169.html?view=51474289#t51474289))

Artemis exited the doctor's office, a sleeve covering his nose and mouth. So it was a little dramatic, considering the fire hadn't gotten that big yet, but he wasn't about to wait around to see if his 'This Doctor's Office Is Going To Burn Down' theory was correct.

"Disraeli's office is down this way," he said, pointing across the hall and down two doors. "Let's hurry before the fire blocks our route of escape." And he knelt down in front of the door and began picking the lock.

Badou exited the doctor's office after Artemis and closed the door behind him. He wasn't taking any precautions against the smoke. Actually, he thought he might be allergic to clean air because it felt like he could breathe a lot easier now.

"The smoke might, but there's not much out here to feed the fire. We could always go through the greenhouse and double back if we need to."

"Leave it to Martin Landel to do something sinister like invent flammable linoleum," Artemis said with a small chuckle. No, Artemis wasn't worried about fire jumping the hallway--he was more concerned about the ceiling or the vents or something else that fire could easily get into. But if they were lucky (and they had been so far), the door would contain the fire long enough to get into Disraeli's office and get out.

He drew the needles out of the keyhole, squinting in at the tumblers. He frowned. "The lock's been changed. Give me a moment."

"I'm sure he doesn't want his institute burned down any more than... Wait, why haven't we burnt this place down again?" He'd heard about it recovering and all of that but they could at least try, just as a general 'fuck you, happy holidays'.

"Careful." Badou added, as if Artemis needed the reminding. It wasn't like someone could install a trap in the lock mechanism, but there was always the chance that magical puberty would kick in somehow.

"I don't think we've found an adequate fire source or fuel," Artemis replied, pausing from his work in thought. "Also, evacuating everyone from the building would take some doing. There are some people who I couldn't care less about, but there are other innocent people who don't deserve to be trapped in a burning building."

He was starting to sound like Hitsugaya, he thought. While burning the whole building down sounded like a good idea at first, apparently upon further thought...

"Careful of what?" he asked, looking down the hallway nervously.

Well, that made sense. Badou wasn't the nicest guy in the world but he wasn't very enthusiastic about innocent people burning to death either. Maybe he'd talk to Alle about it later. Using more violent means of getting out looked better and better all the time.

"Nothing." He replied, shaking his head. "You need help with that lock?"

"Not... at... all."

Click. Artemis afforded himself a small, triumphant smirk. There was nothing like knowing how things worked and exploiting that knowledge. He stood up, recapping the syringes and tucking them back in his breast pocket.

"I've been in here before, and I believe he told me to return whenever I needed something--it should be a decent enough invitation."

Still, Artemis swallowed nervously and stepped across the threshold. The possible results of magic were worrisome, but he was more concerned about the unknown factor of what lay in this office during the night.

(To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/622179.html))

With a few of the doors here opened and only a handful of people scattered down the hall - and no monsters - Kira felt relatively safe as he headed for the greenhouse. Once again, it had been a quietly uneventful travel. He didn't have many hopes for when they got to the greenhouse, though.

Meche found herself wondering why death gods were trained about plants--reapers didn't need to eat, so she was hard-put to picture Manny being concerned about any plant life except tobacco. Then again, maybe he just thought cigarettes grew on trees behind the store. Maybe they did in the Eighth Underworld--it wouldn't have been the strangest thing she'd seen there.

They'd reached the end of the side hall, and it looked like the next door was unlocked. Fresh, cool air hit her skin as she slipped through and outside.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/615933.html?view=51410685#t51410685)]

_{[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/606039.html?thread=51414103#t51414103)]}

The branch of hall they entered was mostly still and silent, aside from some faint noise coming from one of the nearby rooms--doctor’s offices, she knew, though she’d never seen the inside of any of them.

Being out from behind Ophelia, Tsubaki had the chance to move at her own pace, and she fell into the rhythm of quieting the movements of her body, especially her footfalls, when the two of them were well past the point of slow and stealthy travel. Her partner, at least, didn’t seem to mind moving as quickly as possible. Moving out of the way of the open door, she looked to Ophelia, then continued up the corridor, intent on any sudden sounds or movements ahead of them.

It wasn’t far to the outer wall, and beyond that were the grounds, however far they extended. She couldn’t be half-hearted about this.

Ophelia was glad not to have much resistance from the girl. At least she knew not to abandon current comrades at the expense of others who weren't of concern to them. She nodded and followed Tsubaki down the hall and out in to the greenhouse yard.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/615933.html?thread=51443197#t51443197)]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/614508.html?thread=51508332#t51508332)]

Oh, fuck this place. It was smoke, drifting out from underneath the door of one of the doctor's offices. Ken hadn't been terribly pyrophobic for quite a few years--desensitized enough by explosions and infernos to be able to at least somewhat function, but that certainly didn't mean that he liked walking into smokey hallways. Especially when it was one he already hated.

Without even realizing it, Ken balked at the hall's mouth, entranced by the smoke and faint firelight illuminating the barest sliver of the floor.

"It seems someone's grateful for the hospitality," Crawford observed, stopping just behind Siberian. There was no reason for a little fire in another room to hinder them, though, unless Siberian was either disturbed or entranced by it. The latter wouldn't have surprised him--everyone had their eccentricities, and Weiss probably had more, to make up for their ridiculous self-righteousness--but he couldn't be afraid of fire. He had to have seen too many; he'd probably started a few.

Surely it wasn't that: it would be too funny.

Crawford moved around him pointedly. "How much further?" he asked.

Though really, since Schwarz seemed to think Weiss existed for their personal amusement anyway, it was almost surprising that Crawford didn't realize that the correct answer was indeed the 'funny' one. Or at least assume it.

Ken shook his head and took a step backward, replying to the question mechanically. "...the hallway leads outside, to the greenhouse yard. Over the wall from that is the courtyard. Then there's another wall leading to the recreation field."

Crawford turned back and stared at him.

He was, he was stalling. Schuldig would have had a holiday with this, but Crawford had practical concerns, and the phantom pressure of the watch he wasn't wearing on his left wrist reminded him that time was constantly running out.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, not bothering to disguise either his amusement or his disdain.

The smell of smoke, even from behind the door, was almost enough to make Ken sick, since he'd been caught off-guard by it. He ignored Crawford's mocking question for the time being, almost tempted to tell the American to fuck off and go alone--it wasn't that much farther.

But he'd already shown enough fear and weakness. He wasn't going to let it get the best of him--he wasn't going to let that smug bastard get the best of him either.

Ken steeled his nerves. "...no."

And he kept walking.

[moving very very quickly through to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/615933.html). ~~Totally not running. Just...briskly walking. Yes.~~]

Nightshift 40: East Wing, Hall A (First Floor)

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