damned_institute | Nightshift 44: Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for Rey Za Burrel]

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Nightshift 44: Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for Rey Za Burrel]

Tonight's subject was an interesting example of scientific accomplishment, at least in this doctor's opinion, the product of genetic engineering that would have been far more impressive if it were not for the rather glaring flaw in his makeup. But a functional clone, imperfect as he was, still presented a fascinating wealth of data to the research-minded. And truly that was all this man was: a lab rat, here to run the maze in which he'd been placed and nothing more.

And the "maze" which the doctor had prepared was, in his mind, quite a clever one indeed. He made one last adjustment to the equipment, plugged in the final lead, and reached over to flip the switch with a triumphant smirk as it came to life with a soft electronic hum. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

And once that moment of smug admiration was over he stepped back again, settling at the table to one side and flicking on the monitor that would allow him to see what the subject could see. Which right now, thanks to the visor and electrodes he wore, and the influence of the drug in the IV in his arm, was not this room as it was currently equipped.

No, right now the subject was in an entirely different laboratory, one more familiar in his memory. In this room he was merely lying on a table, unrestrained, though still clad in the grey Landel's uniform. And in the dim light one other person was visible in that room: a man sitting in a chair a short distance away, his face framed by dark hair but features obscured by shadow, and clad in a uniform that seemed tantalizingly familiar in the half-light.

He spoke no word as yet, though, merely waiting, and patiently watching the subject, waiting for him to awaken.

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As the sensation of waking up began to settle, somewhere, in the back of Rey's mind, he told himself to stay asleep. After all, waking up meant struggling through another day in the institute, trying to keep a hold on his emotional stability. Wasn't staying here, in this oblivion, a more pleasant choice? He didn't have to worry about anything, didn't have to face a world where he had nothing left.

Unfortunately, Rey knew that ignorance was only bliss until one couldn't afford to be ignorant any longer, and he'd gone past that point a long time ago. With that, he slowly opened his eyes. Although his mind was groggy (he had a vague memory of sedatives, but couldn't remember why), he realized immediately that he wasn't in his room. As he sat up with a shift of his left arm, resulting in a spike of pain in his shoulder, and a few blinks, he regained his clarity--and promptly froze.

His eyes widened, and without meaning to, his breathing quickened. Forcing himself to shove down the panic that was swiftly rising--he couldn't afford to have a panic attack here, with no one around to help him--he felt like a child all over again. Surrounded by equipment meant to be used on him and people he didn't know, dressed in white, before all that was replaced by darkness--he could still remember it. They left him to die there, alone (but he didn't, he reminded himself).

But why was he here again? That, he couldn't understand, amidst the walls he was putting around his emotions to stay calm. Even though his mind was trying to scream at him, he vowed not to let whoever was behind to see his fear.

It was probably just as well that he hadn't noticed the other presence in the room yet; the moment he did, that vow would be swiftly forgotten.

The silence remained unbroken for another few moments as Rey awoke, allowing him time to look around and see his surroundings. The stage had to be properly set for the play to have its greatest impact, after all.

And then there came a soft rustle of fabric as the man slowly rose to his feet, shadows playing over him as he moved, obscuring and hiding his form in turn until he stood at his full height. He took but one step forward and finally spoke: "Rey."

The idea of 'stay calm' disappeared the moment the voice cut through the silence. Rey's eyes widened further as he whirled towards the source of the sound. For a few moments, what was going on didn't quite make input into his mind, as he stayed like that, in shock. Then the man's identity finally registered, and everything came crashing down.

This couldn't be happening. There was absolutely no way this man could be standing there right now. He was dead--Rey had done the deed himself when he pulled the trigger. He saw the man fall, die with the captain by his side. And yet here he was, perfectly all right, alive.

It should've been impossible, but Rey reminded himself that it wasn't in this place, even though his rising emotions threatened to overwhelm his sense of rationality. He'd learned earlier that day that the dead could come back to life, after all. He just never thought that it would happen to anyone he himself knew, to this man. That'd been foolish of him, he supposed.

"Gil..." Rey nearly choked on the name. "What... What are you...?"

"It's good to see you again, too." The man -- Gilbert Durandal, or his identical twin, in appearance and voice alike -- stepped forward again, bringing himself just within arm's reach of the table. His face was still half-cast in shadow, making it difficult to read his expression, but in his tone there was no anger or disappointment. It was as though they were merely speaking normally, in a time before that single gunshot rang out.

"Such a greeting, Rey," he continued, reaching out in an idle-seeming gesture to brush his fingertips against the cool metal of a bulky piece of lab equipment next to him. "What am I...what? Doing here?"

In all honesty, Rey just wished the floor would swallow him up, away from this place that brought up unpleasant memories, and from this man who brought up an even worse one. Unfortunately, it did no such thing, and so Rey was still there, staring at Gil. It felt like someone was gripping onto his heart, making it harder to breathe, all the while adding too many emotions for him to handle. And unlike Shinn, Rey didn't have the option of releasing them all in unrestrained rage.

So what was he supposed to do? Cry? He certainly felt like doing that, but by some miracle, he managed to hold back his tears. However, that did very little for his growing grief.

"... You died," he said, his voice shaky. He couldn't explain why he needed to state that, when the fact meant nothing here. Still, the man known as Gilbert Durandal, and his goal for the future, the Destiny Plan--Rey had brought both down. If this was Gil, then what did that mean for their world?

"Did I?" Gilbert glanced away from the machine again, his hand lowering to his side as one brow arched slightly upward in silent question. "Did I? You seem to have suffered no ill effects from that incident yourself."

He smiled slightly, though the expression never touched his eyes. The expression there, to one who knew how to look, spoke more of regret, perhaps disappointment. And determination, as well, which came through as he continued. "I have far too much to accomplish to allow it to end so soon."

Dread filled Rey's stomach as Gil spoke, knowing exactly what he was talking about. The Destiny Plan--he honestly intended to still carry it out? Rey didn't doubt that, even after his death, the man could still be a threat, should he find a way to return to their world. And if that were the case...

Though his mind was clouded with misery and shock that had yet to fully settle, Rey knew that he couldn't let that hold him back.

"... The Destiny Plan is over, Gil," he said, a lump forming in his throat. His voice still wasn't as steady as he would've liked, but it was better than not trying. He had to convince him of this, that there was no point in going through with it. Otherwise, there was only one other option left, one that Rey didn't want to think about. However, he wasn't naïve enough to believe that there wasn't the possibility--no, probability--that he'd have to resort to it.

This can't be happening, this can't be happening--

But it was, and nothing could change that.

Gilbert shook his head once, slowly. "It isn't over," he replied, voice calm but firm. "It is only beginning."

The hand that had remained at his side to this point, hidden in the half-darkness of the room, now lifted to reveal the gun he held. "As long as I live, I will work to save humanity. I had believed that you felt the same way, but...clearly, it is not to be."

He shifted the gun to point directly at Rey and shook his head again, almost sadly. "You betrayed my trust, Rey. I never wanted it to come to this, but I must do what I must do in order to bring peace."

It had felt like his own life was leaving him when he'd pulled the trigger, days ago. Now that the gun was pointed at him, the hold on his heart tightened, to the point where Rey had to briefly remind himself how to breathe when he froze. Then again, that was likely the point of Gil's words. The man had to know that they'd hurt Rey this much. It was bad enough that Rey knew he'd betrayed Gil; to hear it from the man himself--he couldn't even begin to describe the guilt that washed over him at that moment.

Truth be told, he was almost ready to simply let himself die there, had he not remembered that Gil was now his enemy, as much as he wished it weren't so. And, on the battlefield, dying before your enemy meant a loss. As was the same with any other time, Rey couldn't afford to lose, any more than Gil could.

"My ideals... haven't changed," he said softly, forcing himself to relax enough so that he could move easily, while preparing to move out of the bullet's path.

I, too, will do whatever it takes to bring peace--at the right cost.

"Then you're an obstacle that needs to be removed," Gilbert replied, his voice still calm and steady, as though he were merely speaking of a captured piece being pulled from a chessboard.

Without a pause or any sign of regret whatsoever, only quiet determination, his finger pulled back on the trigger and the shot rang out.

Being too kind was a weakness, Rey had once told Shinn. What he didn't add was that being too emotional was the same. It meant that words had that much stronger of an effect on you. Rey should know; he had firsthand experience of that, during his fight with Kira Yamato. One would think he'd learned his lesson, but, if anything, it only got worse. In his current state, Rey was more vulnerable than ever to words alone.

In the end, that was probably why his body stiffened again, stopping him from evading as intended. As one of the top pilots of ZAFT, Rey had received his fair share of praises, but Gil's approval was always the one that meant more to him than anyone's else's. Although Rey knew he no longer deserved it after betraying the man, being told he was nothing more than an obstacle now, like he didn't even mean anything--that went beyond mere hurting. Instead, there was emptiness, as he felt himself grow cold, incapable of feeling for a moment.

(not needed by anyone anymore)

--And then the pain struck in his head, physical pain this time, destroying what coherency he had left before everything faded to darkness.

As the scene had played out before Rey's eyes, the doctor had likewise been watching - but on his monitor in the real room, surrounded by readouts telling him of his subject's condition as events progressed. As the bullet struck the virtual Rey several alarms began to sound from the monitoring equipment, but the doctor silenced them with an irritable flick of a switch before he turned back to make a note. "Interesting," he murmured, as his pen scratched against paper. "Very interesting."

Only once he was finished did he stand, the legs of his chair scraping harshly against the tile, and picked up a capped syringe before moving over toward the table where his subject lay. Still alive, yes? That was good enough for him. The doctor carefully removed the visor and attached equipment and set it on a cart to one side, then fussed with the IV for a moment. After injecting the contents of the syringe he'd brought, a drug to reverse the effects of the previous one with which Rey had been dosed, he moved back to his previous position and settled back into his chair.

Now all he needed to do was wait until his subject awoke. The advantage of human subjects was that they could give their own input, unlike the rats; his data wouldn't be complete until he had that.

For the third time in the past few days, after expecting death, Rey became aware that he wasn't quite dead just yet. There was still some of that aching hollowness inside him, feeling as if it'd never disappear. It was the price, he supposed, for betraying Gil. "Then you're an obstacle that needs to be removed"--the man's words burned themselves into Rey's mind, as hazy as it currently was. It would have been easy, to fall back into unconsciousness, but he stood by his earlier thoughts: Ignorance only brought about worse consequences. As painful as things were, he couldn't stay asleep forever.

As expected, awakening brought him no ease. His head wasn't clear enough to fully understand what was going on as he opened his eyes, but he knew immediately that something was wrong.

"I know you're awake. There's no need to pretend otherwise." The voice was almost emotionless, but for a faint edge of impatience. The readouts said that the subject was awake, but...he was just lying there. No attempts to escape, no threats like most of them tried to make.

How very tedious this was.

"Tell me," the doctor continued, tapping his pen against paper in an impatient fashion. "How do you feel now?"

The voice startled Rey out of his thoughts, and if he wasn't awake then he definitely was now. Once he gained his bearings, panic began to sink into him once more. Different equipment or not, he could easily recognize a place dedicated to experimentation when he saw one. This time, though, his barriers had come crashing down. Familiar emotions rose--bitterness, grief, and above all, a need to get out of here.

Tugging at his restraints with his right hand, as he knew better than to aggravate his left shoulder, he took in a shaky breath. Even when he was told that he was dying, he couldn't recall ever feeling this lost.

"... Why am I here?"

His voice was getting steadier, at least.

"No, no, that wasn't the question." The doctor sighed, then turned to scribble a quick note down on his pad. This would be so much easier if the subjects would only cooperate. All these demands, why they were here, why was he doing this, let them go immediately - they were all such wastes of his precious time.

Still writing, he added, with more than a touch of impatience entering his voice, "How are you feeling? Any side effects - vertigo, blurred vision? Headache, perhaps?" That shot hadn't even been given a chance to miss, after all, and the virtual simulation had been...quite realistic.

Rey tried to appear as calm as he could, even if inwardly he was frantic. This kind of place brought up unpleasant memories, the ones he'd rather not have to remember, but did because they were a part of who he was. Desperation continued to tug at him, despite his best attempts at ignoring it.

"I don't think that's any of your business," he said, coldness sneaking into his voice as he began to regain his will. Enough so that he could at least act as if what had happened--what was happening--didn't affect him at all, no matter how much it did. Dull pain was pounding in his head, but he was hardly going to mention that. As far as Rey was concerned, this man had no right to toy with him like this. He was reminded of the scientists who'd brought him into this world in the first place, who'd played with his life without regard for how he felt. While he wasn't in the habit of pointing fingers, he held no love for them.

It was the same for this man. He wasn't entirely at fault, for his behaviour was typical of humans, always aspiring to discover more and achieve, but that didn't mean Rey had to like any of it. Or cooperate, for that matter.

The doctor paused, the dropped the pen onto the table and lifted a hand to rub at his temples. "Of course it's my business, you idiot. I'm the one who's been experimenting on you. I can't imagine how it's any more my business, in fact." This wasn't the usual threats, but it was still just as aggravating.

"It's getting late, and I need to finish this up. Now, if you'd just answer the question, I'm almost finished with you. And once we're finished, you can go back to your cage with all the other little lab rats. Wouldn't that be nice?" At least the ordinary rats didn't talk back. They just ran the maze, took their cheese, and went back to running on their little wheel.

A chill passed through Rey at the doctor's words. While he'd never outright believed his encounter with Gil to be real or fake, the realization of how much and just what might've been done to him finally, fully clicked. And suddenly, Rey didn't know whom he hated more: this man, for being responsible for all of this, or himself, for falling for it.

To be honest, he also didn't know whether to be relieved or not that that Gil had just been a hallucination of some kind. On one hand, it meant what he said was just an hallucination as well and wasn't necessarily what he believed (or was it?). On the other hand... Rey tried to believe that his disappointment was illogical, seeing as how he likely would've killed the man had he been real, but it wasn't working.

Being called a lab rat only served to agitate him further. He was much better at keeping a lid on his temper than Shinn, but he still possessed that human emotion known as 'anger.' In his situation, he felt justified in that, even if he knew it would get him nowhere--the very reason he chose not to show it. And as much as he'd rather not be of any help to this man, getting out of here appealed to him, though he didn't think for a second that the doctor was trustworthy.

"... Headache," he answered after a period of silence, his tone not any more friendly than before. Again, not that it was any of his business, regardless of what he said.

"There. Look how simple that was." With a brief pretense at a smile that was in no way genuine, the doctor turned back to his papers and added some more notes, muttering to himself quietly as he did. The scratching of pen on paper and his nearly-inaudible mumbling was the only sound in the room for several minutes, then he abruptly stood and moved over to the table again.

"I'm sure you'll not appreciate the absolute brilliance of it, nor the work I've put into it, but you've been quite privileged to test this for me," he observed, as he removed the IV from Rey's arm with brisk efficiency. "Although if it hadn't been for the insistence of one of those who assisted me in my work, I don't know that I would've given you the privilege. Although..." The doctor paused a moment, then shrugged and started to push the equipment back out of the way again. "It's not as though there's any other use for you now, is there?"

The doctor was right when he said that Rey wouldn't appreciate the so-called brilliance of the experimentation. His existence itself was supposed to be 'brilliant,' after all, but it was anything except for that. Being born the way he was, going through this--none of it was a privilege.

At the remark about his use, Rey's eyes widened, before his expression turned into a sharp glare. However, he stayed silent. Although he hated to admit it, if there was one thing this place was good at, for him, it was stabbing at where it hurt most. Knowing that, he shouldn't be affected by what this man was saying, but once again rationality lost control over his emotions.

Supposedtojustbeanexperimenthavenofuturewhyamistillalive--

There was nothing left for him. He was done fighting for his ideals, so what was he to do? His life was his own, he knew that now, but what was the point when he couldn't find anything worth living for anymore?

Gil...

So perhaps the doctor was right in that regard, that any other purpose he'd had was gone. Yet there was no way Rey was going to agree with him, this coward who only dared to say such things because of the restraints currently holding him down. He refused to be looked at only for what he was and not who he was.

As the doctor turned away he caught sight of the glare and only chuckled quietly. "Oh, hiss all you like; it changes nothing. You're still the remnants of an experiment that's past its time." It didn't particularly matter to him just what the subjects thought, but he was still mildly irritated over this one's lack of cooperation and saw no reason to be friendly.

The cart rattled noisily over the tile as he moved over toward the table, where he paused to switch the equipment back off and gather up his notes. "Now perhaps if you hadn't pulled that trigger, there'd still be someone who thought you were worth something. Here, though? Mm." He shrugged slightly and moved off again, disappearing into the shadows.

And in the silence left behind as the rattling of the cart's wheels faded away, the click of the door unlocking seemed to echo unnaturally loud.

It was over.

Although Rey's instincts were screaming at him to get out of there, whether or not outside was more dangerous, he stayed still for a while, inhaling and exhaling shakily. His head still hurt, but that was the least of his worries. It didn't stop the doctor's comments from hurting even more.

(was supposed to die a long time ago)

Rey didn't want to think about any of that, especially not about Gil. Let himself not care, even if it was only for now. Let himself deal with all this in the morning, when he didn't feel as if he were going to suffocate in this room and die alone. Distantly, the doctor's voice rang through his head, reminding him that he was alone either way, but he blocked it out. Right now, he needed to keep his head blank of those kind of thoughts.

Slowly rising, careful not to move his left arm, he moved towards the door.

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Nightshift 44: Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for Rey Za Burrel]

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