damned_institute | Day 41: Sun Room

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Day 41: Sun Room

Haseo's steps were heavy with the weight of righteous anger as he was escorted into the Sun Room, his posture so sullen and reluctant you could almost hear the nostalgic cry of an electric guitar. He was seething, and though perhaps it was a bit harder to be intimidating while wearing the uniform of an insane asylum and flanked by a bored-looking orderly, it was not for lack of trying.

Unfortunately, his nurse seemed unaffected by the act, and even with the cloud of failing to keep "Kai" away from "Peyton" hanging over her, remained determinedly cheerful. She merely said something about receiving a lecture later on, ignored his retorts, and assured him that it would be alright even though his internet stalker was in the same building. For the most part, Haseo tuned her babbling out after that, dismissing it as hopeless.

"...and usually this would be the time children would be taking showers, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Now then, le--"

"Wait. What?"

"Oh, all the children seventeen or under are separated right now while the adults go to the courtyard..."

"Hey, I'm not a kid you old--!"

"Oh of course you aren't dear, but you're not eighteen yet either, now are you?"

Haseo resisted the urge to do something rash, literally biting his tongue to keep quiet. But upon having the bulletin board pointed out to him, he shrugged off his anger for the most part and headed that way, fully intending to get more answers than he'd had time to receive during breakfast.

Well... at least Endrance is in another shower group, he thought, Thank god.

[Closed to Tsukasa, for now!]

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[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/624763.html?thread=51983483#t51983483). First post reserved for the Doctor, after that maybe we can fit someone else?]

While he felt noticeably cleaner now, the brief visit to the showers had reminded him of exactly what he'd been wanting to avoid and it took some effort for Brainiac 5 to resist his body's apparent desire to break down crying again. He didn't want to think about this, he told himself furiously. If he had something else to concentrate on, then it was easier to ignore the pain and memories. And maybe if he didn't think about it long enough, he would forget holding Clark's body and how hearing that last breath leaving his friend had been like someone stabbed him instead.

It would have been easier if Grell had stabbed him instead.

This wasn't helping. His eyes were stinging again with the threat of tears and there was a sizable lump in his throat. But now that he'd started thinking about it, he couldn't find a way to stop and everything served only to remind him of Clark and what he could have, should have, done to save him.

After all, Grell had said it himself; if Brainiac 5 had only swallowed his pride and played along with their little game, pretended to apologise well enough, then they would have left Clark alone. But instead he'd been too self-assured, certain that he could find a way to defeat them before they hurt anyone else.

And he'd failed there. He was in a wheelchair, too injured to even walk on his own, and Clark had been- He desperately tried not to think about the matter any further, but it was too late. His body shook with quiet sobs despite his efforts to stop, and all he could do was sit slumped in the wheelchair, grateful that the nurse had left him alone where hopefully his outburst would go unnoticed.

After breakfast, the Doctor requested to spend time in the sun room instead of the courtyard. The courtyard would have been nice for a pleasant morning, but the Doctor was more interested in the contents of the sun room: namely the bulletin board.

He headed there first, planning to see if Donna or Rose had left a reply to his earlier note and then peruse the rest of the notes on the board. There was a lot of potential information there, and he hadn't had much of a chance to look it over. As he approached the board, however, he caught sight of a familiar face: Brainiac 5, his fellow time-travelling alien. He was some distance away, but even from the Doctor's position near the board, he could tell that the boy had seen better days. He was obviously injured, given the wheelchair, and he was shaking...

The boy wasn't supposed to be human, and he was unfamiliar with the body and its workings, no matter how long he'd been trapped in the form or how well he had or hadn't been able to adapt. It wasn't his proper form, and for him to have become injured in it? That had to be difficult to cope with.

Deciding that the board could wait for another time, the Doctor made his way over to the Coluan. He came to a stop next to the boy, softly clearing his throat to announce his presence.

Before arriving here, Brainiac 5 had lacked experience with many human emotions, and while he'd done his best to replicate them on his own, there were some things his normal body was just not physically capable of. Such as the absence of tear ducts which made crying impossible. He would have preferred if that minor detail had remained the same. Even after his sobs died down, his eyes were still aching and burning in a way that he hated, making him feel even more tired and drawn out. Part of him just wanted to curl up and sleep, as if when he awoke things would somehow be easier to handle.

He was on the verge of trying to do just that when someone cleared their throat next to him. Brainiac 5 turned sharply towards them, but the movement pulled on the injuries in his side and back and he flinched at the sudden pain.

To his surprise, the newcomer was John Smith, the time-traveller he'd met some days previously, and while he didn't particularly like the concerned look on his face, it was easier to deal with than if Peter had tried to talk with him. At least this conversation could offer a distraction as the one with Artemis had.

"I'm sorry," he said, carefully settling back into the wheelchair and wiping as much of the infuriating moisture from his eyes as possible. "You surprised me."

"Sorry," the Doctor said, looking down at the boy. "I didn't mean to."

He stepped aside to draw a chair over, and sat down across from Brainiac 5. The boy wasn't crying any more, but it was clear that he had been recently. The Doctor wished he had his coat; he was fairly certain he had a handkerchief in one of the pockets that he could have offered the boy... Then again, maybe that wouldn't be the best gesture; the boy had seemed frustrated, or perhaps merely embarrassed, by the display of emotion the last time they'd spoken. If this was the same sort of emotional reaction to outside factors, he might not appreciate attention being called to it, even if it were merely offering a handkerchief.

The apparent injuries the Coluan had sustained, however, would not be overlooked even if emotional reactions would be.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked. He hadn't seen any of the alleged monsters for himself as of yet (save for one lonely little boy), but how else would the boy have gotten injured? Or any of the other patients, for that matter; more than one was sporting bandages, and this was supposedly a mental hospital, not an emergency room. "You seem to have had a rough time of it."

Brainiac 5 was grateful that John didn't seem intent on drawing attention to his earlier tears. It was embarrassing enough that he was still sniffling on occasion without having someone else point it out as well.

"I suppose you could say that," he said carefully. "Things have been decidedly... complicated of late. So much so that I haven't had the time to investigate any means of leaving this awful place. As you can no doubt tell, I ran into some difficulties a few nights back..."

His voice struggled to stay entirely objective but failed, and another half-sob escaped him.

"I'm sorry," Brainiac 5 said immediately, glancing away from John. "I hope you've had more success here than I have."

"Difficulties?" the Doctor asked, latching onto the word quickly.

Difficulties were interesting; difficulties could provide some sort of clue or warning. Maybe it was just the "monsters" or the difficulties of adapting to an unfamiliar body or maybe it was something else entirely. It was obvious Brainiac 5 wasn't doing well, and he couldn't help but wonder if the emotional reaction was to more than just the injuries. After all, if he'd gotten them a few nights ago as he'd indicated, he would have surely passed into acceptance by now, or at least have a weakened response. No, it was likely that something else had happened; it was just a question of what that "something else" was...

"I wish I could say I've had success, but it seems I've fallen into the unfortunate habit of sleeping even when I don't mean to. The whole night gone in the blink of an eye," he said, clicking his fingers as if to emphasize the point. "It's a waste."

Edited 2009-05-19 03:22 (UTC)

"Yes, I-" It was then that he noticed an all-too familiar flash of red in the room, and Brainiac 5 paled as he realised Grell was in the room as well. A quick glance also revealed Luxord to be nearby and while neither of them were paying much attention to him currently, it seemed too coincidental.

He swallowed hard. While on one hand he knew it might be best for others if he were to try and expose the two men for what they were, his attempts to do so previously had resulting in people accusing him of lying and then Grell had come after Clark...

He closed his eyes briefly and fought down a surge of emotion that threatened to have him crying again. "Difficulties. I- I can't..." His voice was rough and he shook his head mutely, trying to convey his difficulty with speaking.

"I'm sorry." His gaze strayed to Grell again and he shuddered slightly. "Can- can we possibly talk about something else?"

So it was more than just the injuries; Brainiac 5's glances about the room and barely-formed attempts to answer were enough to confirm that fact in the Doctor's mind. The Doctor couldn't be sure if he simply wished not to speak about the difficulties or if he had some reason why he couldn't speak about them, but it was clear that particular line of questioning would go no further until Brainiac 5 was more willing and able to speak on it.

"Of course," the Doctor agreed. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable; I'd just wanted to know what happened. But if you don't want to talk about it, well... Not much I can do about that, is there?"

He glanced briefly in the direction that Brainiac 5 had last looked, trying to determine if there was anything unusual in that direction that had led him to keep quiet. He saw Grell the butler and a few other patients he recognized, but nothing out of the ordinary... Perhaps Brainiac 5's "difficulties" involved one of the other patients?

Considering Artemis' insistence that they talk about it this morning, Brainiac 5 had been expecting more difficulty convincing John to drop the topic. But it turned out he was pleasantly surprised in that area. He shot a relieved look at the man and managed a faint smile.

"I- ...thank you," he said eventually. Unfortunately that left him with trying to think of something else to talk about.

Something that Artemis had said came back to him. He'd been concerned with other details when the other boy had mentioned it and hadn't had the chance to ask about it much further, but it had been bothering him in a distant way since then. While he didn't want to allow himself to fall into the false trap of hope, he had to wonder...

"Have you been here very long?" he asked suddenly. Clearing his throat slightly and glancing away, embarrassed a little by what he was asking, he continued. "I've heard some... speculation about people who may have di- passed away being returned at a later time...?" A faint note of hope crept into his voice as he spoke, though he couldn't quite bring himself to look directly at John just yet.

"I've been here a week, almost exactly. I haven't encountered anything like that," the Doctor answered with a smile. He paused, and then added, "Well, not yet. But I can't say I've encountered much of anything that I've heard about here, 'monsters' included."

The new topic of discussion had struck him as odd. If Brainiac 5 had wanted to steer away from sensitive subjects, they could have continued their discussion of time travel from the other day or spoken on a variety of other topics. The question of how long he'd been here wasn't strange, but to ask about the dead coming back? It must have been on his mind, and if that were the case, with the way he'd faltered and that tone... The Doctor's smile fell away.

"Oh..."

So many of the patients were injured, Brainiac 5 included, and it wasn't much of a stretch to think someone may have been injured so badly that... If that "someone" had been one that Brainiac 5 knew, or counted as a friend, or... Was the probable death related to the difficulties of which he'd been unable to speak? Was it a separate incident? Was it why he'd been crying alone? He hadn't wanted to speak on the difficulties he'd encountered, but if this wasn't related...

And that was assuming that the Doctor had even arrived at the correct conclusion. Brainiac 5 could have been asking for mere curiosity's sake, not a wish that the lost would return. Maybe he was wrong; he hoped he was wrong... But that didn't stop him from asking, "When?"

"Oh... I see." John had been here longer than he had and, like himself, also hadn't experienced much by way of the 'monsters' mentioned - unless people were talking about the patients, in which case Brainiac 5 possibly had more experience than many others - or many of the other threats around the institute. And he hadn't heard anything about the dead returning either. Normally Brainiac 5 might have considered dismissing the idea from the start, but he found it odd that Artemis would mention it in the first place and, if his theories on how Landel was capable of placing those of them who were not human into new bodies were correct, then 'returning someone to life' would also be possible...

John's question pulled him out of those speculations and he glanced away and down at his hands, wishing there was something to distract himself with. "Last night."

His eyes flicked up to the information board for a moment. "I had to inform others about it. I'm not sure if you know- knew Clark Kent, but if so, you have my apologies..."

So he had been right.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said. "I'm so sorry..."

He shook his head. "I didn't know him, but..." This 'Clark Kent' must have had friends he'd made here, and perhaps friends from back home... Brainiac 5 and the others he'd informed had lost their friend, and that was a terrible, terrible thing. Death was never easy, and it hurt. It always hurt. "I know what it's like to— to lose someone. I'm sorry..."

It was no wonder that Brainiac 5 had wondered about the dead returning, but the Doctor had serious doubts about the possibility.

And again he found himself trying not to let emotion overwhelm him.

"It's fine," Brainiac 5 said thickly, doing his best to ignore the prickling feeling in his eyes he'd quickly come to associate with the beginnings of tears. "I'm able to continue to function in spite of my... emotional difficulties."

He swallowed and brushed at his eyes in annoyance. "It's easier if I have something else to focus on, however. I mostly asked because of something someone else mentioned. I suppose I was hopeful that there might be another way to..." He shook his head and slumped in his chair. "But it doesn't matter now, does it?"

"Then let's give you something else to focus on," he said. The boy needed to fully grieve, but the Doctor knew what the desire to put it off, to try to ignore it, to avoid it, was like.

There were topics he could ask about, to get the boy's mind off the subject of Clark Kent's death even if only temporarily... He wanted to know more about the Bleed, or Colu, or Time Sphere technology, or the boy's reaction to being called "Brainiac," or any of a number of different things about the boy's experiences and technological knowledge, but at this moment... All he wanted to know about was Clark Kent. He hadn't know the man (or boy?), and some small part of him was glad that he hadn't since it avoided that same acute sense of loss that he'd felt a thousand times over the years, but it was a sad thing not to be remembered.

And there was one other thing... "I can't say about the dead returning to life, but... It's obvious the masters of this place have a sophisticated method of time and space travel, and time isn't a straight line. It's possible that if those who are gone have returned, they were spirited away at a different part of their personal timelines..."

He reached up with a hand, pulling at his ear. "Ah, not much of a change of topic, was it? Sorry."

"That's true," he agreed. "But if someone is taken from their own time and brought here, only to-" he nearly stopped but forced himself to continue, "-to die, then what becomes of their future?"

What was going to happen to Clark's future; his own past? Clark was supposed to grow up, to move to Metropolis and work as a reporter, to become Superman. He'd save the planet countless times, team up with other heroes, and most likely end up settling down with someone. He'd live out his life in his own time like he was supposed to, but years later his exploits would inspire three teenagers to start a group that would later be known as the Legion of Super Heroes. But if Clark had been abducted here, had died, then did all of that change? Was there a new reality somewhere where none of it had happened?

....and why didn't he care beyond the fact that Clark wasn't here now?

"It creates a paradox," the Doctor replied, frowning at the thought. Paradoxes were dangerous, especially without the Time Lords. But... "Or would, usually."

There were no Reapers here to sterilize the wound that such a paradox would have left in its wake. If a paradox had truly been created, were there still Time Lords in whatever universe this might be, if not his own? Or was there a race of similar beings that helped to prevent paradoxes? But if there wasn't and there was no paradox...

In the absence of a paradox, any future that might have been would not exist. "Your friend, Clark Kent... Did you know him before coming here?"

"I was afraid of that. The Clark I know- knew- was several years older than the one who-" he hesitated. "-who I met here.

"You could say he was something of a pivotal figure in my world's history, as well as my own past," he continued quietly. It was slightly easier to to talk about Clark being gone like this, in terms of how it would affect the timeline and his past. Like it was just another sequence of data to be analysed and stored carefully away in his data banks.

"But in that case, did it create a paradox? Would that have any noticeable effects? My research into the field suggests that a logical outcome would be the creation of a new reality, where things progress differently, but I've understandably never had any chance or inclination to test the theory."

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Day 41: Sun Room

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