damned_institute | Nightshift 44: Men's Bathrooms (M01-M40)

"Not crazy," Scourge grumbled through gritted teeth. "But no, I'm not. I just get a bit twitchy at night and you were standing all threatening at Piper." While being even shorter than Scourge and acting in the most friendly of fashions. It had been an honest mistake!

"Who are you, anyway?" Piper had mentioned he was 'Bart', but that was a human name and told him nothing. Bart hadn't attacked him or condemned him like most good guys, but Piper had called him one and Scourge was guessing he needed to keep any mentions of being evil on the down-low. Beyond that, it was just a human. "To Piper, I mean. You guys come from the same place?"

Hart missed the look Bart gave him, but with the young man nearly in a sprawl against him, a mild nervousness took him over--and with hands settled on the floor at his sides, they stepped up to Bart's shoulders, and finally up into the youngster's bushy hair, slightly massaging the other's scalp as he ran his fingers through the mess.

"We're..." The scritchies paused as he mulled over the terms to use. Messy business this all was.

"--I think displaced is the proper term."
I'll show -you- a proper term, bend ov--
Not NOW. Be an adult for Christsakes.

"I'm...not precisely sure per say, but I think we're from the same world. Or have a good chance of it anyway. He's just from earlier in the woodworks than I am. By a few years by my estimate."

"I didn't say you actually were crazy," Bart grumbled right back. "Just that I thought you were. I don't have a problem with you at all, as long as you're not pointing a knife at me."

He might have gone on, but then Piper performed his most distracting act yet: he gave Bart head-scritchies. And they felt sooo good...No! Focus, Bart! Focus on the people! Saying things!

What were they talking about? Something about places, times...oh, right! The whole multiple universes thing, only Piper seemed to think they were from the same one after all. Only he came from a point on the timeline when Bart was dead.

This wasn't a good time to talk about it, with Scourge watching, so Bart leaned into Piper just a little, just to show he was listening. And they were definitely going to talk about this later. In the meantime, more head-scritchies, please?

Piper was getting kind of cuddly there with Bart. It looked like another one of the human's "hugs", which made Scourge feel irrationally jealous. Why did a good guy get hugs too? What had he done to deserve it?

"I think we had the same problem with Starscream. The one here's from right before I was created, so he's got no idea who I am or why I want to torture him until his vocalizer shorts."

Scourge grinned, remembering that fleeting moment of glory he'd earned for attacking the traitor on his own and the outraged squawks he'd made as Scourge clawed up his legs. "It's actually kind of funny seeing him get so confused. He still thinks he's leader of the Decepticons."

He hadn't seen Starscream around recently, as it happened. Maybe he'd been eaten by a monster or brainwashed into submission by the institution--Scourge found either option a fitting end as long as Starscream didn't come back and haunt him again.

Bart got cuddles because Hart needed physical contact of the nice variety NOW. It helped that it was a Fun Size Bart too. While all Barts were nice, the tiny ones made Hart's paternal instincts rocket off the charts. Combine the two facets and it just made him grabby.

Hence such, scritchies continued in generous helpings.

It put him at greater ease that Bart and Scourge weren't trying to kill one another.
Yet.
Shut up.

--but regardless of how nice everyone was playing, Hart was still...on edge. Heck, how could he not be? Bart was alive! He could fix everything so long as he could keep a close eye on the speedster! And if Bart hadn't raced him standard-style to the bathrooms...

Did that mean that he couldn't run here? --like how the robots weren't robots and how recluse lost his spider limbs? maybe Hart's case of hearing wasn't such an isolated incident after all. The other Wally was here as well and he hadn't run -anyone- in circles. Huh.

But with Bart on the brain, with a glance down, Hart noticed something more than a little worrisome.

"Bart!" Conversation derailed. "--what happened to your arms?!"

It was like watching a steel trap slam shut -- or maybe a puppy get shot. The happy, nearly blissed-out expression on Bart's face vanished, along with his relaxed posture, and were replaced by a tense flinch that carried him away from Piper's chest and nearly out of his lap altogether, while his face could only be described as haunted.

His scars. How had he forgotten about that? Of course Piper would want to know about them, his lower arms and palms were only covered in the stupid things!

"I..." Fell on some broken glass. It wasn't as though Piper would know any better, right?

But Bart would know, and he was done trying to lie about this. Hadn't that been the whole point of his little episode with Tim the night before, to get to the truth of this? He flinched again, curling in on himself as he turned back to face Piper.

"I was taken upstairs a few nights ago, for one of the sleep studies." Wait, had Piper even heard about those yet?

"Slag..."

Scourge drew in air through his teeth, fingers clenching around the crude hilt of his weapon. He knew what Bart was talking about. Vaguely. Bits and pieces overheard and those bits were more than he wanted to know because he'd tried to avoid thinking about how it might be him one of these nights tied down and sliced open.

He looked at Piper, his expression far more nervous now. "The guys running this place, sometimes they take a handful of people away during the night and do things to them. Nasty stuff. I think it's experiments or something, trying to take us apart and figure out what makes us tick." Bart had gone through that and come out alive and sane, it seemed, but the scars on his arms didn't make it look fun.

Scourge's shoulders curled inward, a barricade against the encroaching darkness. His lips twisted in a scowl. "Or they just do it for fun. Who knows?"

"--someone did this to you?!" Congratulations, you've roused the mama bear. The paternal is what you get when the man is feeling protective. The ursine is what you get when he's feeling protective and murderous.

Monsters were one thing.
Torturing for kicks was another. Hart was going to have someone's balls for this.

However, before he could do that--sadly there were many a more preparations he had to take into consideration. Obviously he'd discovered that his use to the Search and Rescue team would be nil until he knew his way around. Recluse would help with that, passing him a map. Hart already had a weapon and had more than his fair share of survival skills.

Hobo-sexual, Hartley!
SHUT. UP. NOT NOW.

"I--" Teeth gritted, he had to take a moment to wash everything back down, to gain some sense of tranquility.

It's barely passable, but he continues anyway.

"--you won't go back there, Bart." He combed his fingers through Bart's brunette mop, just a gentle continuation of his earlier pettings. "Not on my watch."

Bart had been expecting questions, the need to come up with some kind of explanation. And he would have given one, if Piper had asked. No matter how painful he found even thinking about the entire experience even now, several day later, he would given a full account.

Not being required to do so -- especially after the grueling confession he'd given Tim, just the night before -- was a relief that Bart wasn't sure he knew how to handle. So he...didn't.

Wrapping his arms into Piper's chest, he crawled completely into the other man's lap, holding tightly to stave off a creeping case of the shakes. Bart didn't see what Piper could do to actually protect him, but wasn't it the thought that was supposed to count...?

That strange little angry feeling came up in the back of Scourge's head again, so out of place in the fearful situation that it took him a moment to recognize it as jealousy. Nobody held him like he was a weak little minibot and Scourge's dignity liked it that way, but the protectiveness...that sort of defensive aggression-on-his-behalf was enviable.

Cyclonus did it for Galvatron, and for him when he needed it. All the chocolate cake in the institute hadn't filled the lingering need for a wingmate to back him up and speak out for him.

"They probably won't want him again, if they've already poked at him," Scourge offered quietly. "Just saying." It was more for Piper's sake than Bart's. He didn't even know Bart.

Would Piper make a good wingmate? He had a good mindset, he was protective of his own, he was bad enough to be fun but not cruel enough to be scary. He wouldn't be Cyclonus, but he'd do.

He certainly didn't enjoy seeing Bart wrecked like this, but it gave part of him needed closure. One chapter of his life had ended, no questions asked. This was the new verse--a little bit louder and a little bit worse. It also helped in that someone elses turmoil helped him focus his own out of the picture. So long as Hart was busy, he couldn't dwell.

Thank the New Gods.

"Regardless," It was a stern, nearly commanding tone despite its lack of volume. "--monsters? zombies? If anything, the last thing any of us should be doing is going out anywhere at night alone. No one should have to suffer in this place. Not you--" he passed to Scourge. "--not me. Not Bart."

Dawww. Papa Hart. That'd be cute. You know. If you weren't queerer than a three dollar bill.
When we're all out of this, I'll drown myself to shut you up, I swear to god.

"Scourge, if you're willing, since Recluse seems to be partnered with with Statesmen for the runs, would you have any issues coming along to make same runs with me?"

Even though he didn't see how Piper could seriously protect him, especially since Bart doubted he had any of his sonics guns or other gadgets with him, it was hard resist the feeling of safety that came with being held. And then there was Piper's tone of voice...come to think of it, had he ever really heard Piper sound like that before? Wally was usually the one calling the shots when it came to saving the day, though Linda had also been known to take charge in a crisis.

Just how many things had changed, between the time Bart knew, and Piper's time...?

For the moment, he stayed snuggled close, though he was listening carefully as Piper talked. Having Scourge along could make things kind of complicated if they ran into trouble, but Bart could hardly mention it with the man standing right there. And while he wasn't certain he knew what Piper had in mind, it wasn't as though he'd had any idea what to do with himself tonight.

What was that strange feeling inside him, that stirring and fluttering of sensation? Probably residual nausea from the smell, but still.

"Just you and me? Partnered up?" Scourge asked, trying to hide his hopefulness. "Watching each other's backs and all that kind of thing? Yeah!" Bad hiding, Scourge. "I mean, sure. It'd make us more effective, too. I can get you a weapon, and I know where everything is, and maybe we can get your flute back and we'll be a good team."

He stepped over and sat down on the ground next to the pair, legs pulled up towards his chest. Not quite intruding into the hug-space, but obviously eager for Piper to give him more approval.

Maybe Piper had a partner back then as well, maybe he needed a wingmate too. Scourge didn't know why he hadn't thought of the idea sooner.

Weapon...weapon...
Huh. Where had his pipe gone to?

Hart gave a quick, glancing sweep of the room and spotted the thing nearly clear across to the other wall. He'd have dropped it in the rush in, and it was no wonder it had rolled so far. He'd have to break it to Scourge that he already -had- a weapon, but wasn't it the thought that counted?

Unfortunately(?), despite the pressed gravity of the situation, Scourge's energy is contagious.

"Two is always better than one. And I know Bart knows how to fight. --because I'm not leaving him behind." He gave the little speedster a small reassuring squeeze of a hug, his chin rested over the younger's head.

"But partners..." He's smiled plenty of times today, but in the dark of the night, it felt like it had been ages. It felt good to have it back. "--I think I can handle that." One arm around Bart, he offered the other hand to Scourge. Shake on it?

Finally sitting up a little and shaking himself out of his Piper!hug-induced reverie, Bart watched the two men make their agreement, with only the briefest of skeptical looks crossing his face, which he took pains to conceal. It wasn't as though he actively disliked Scourge; it'd just be awkward to fight around someone who didn't already know about his secret identity. But if this was how Piper wanted it...

"Sure, I can deal with a tag-along."

Scourge ignored the suggestion of a handshake. He knew the gesture, but wingmates shouldn't handshake like they were making some kind of deal, they were above that sort of thing. Metaphorically, if they lacked wings, but above it.

Instead, he scooted across the floor and shifted his body so as to nudge Piper's hand up and over his shoulders, negotiating himself into a one-armed hug. Now he understood Piper's hugs properly, it had just been the cultural differences that kept him from catching on to the proposition earlier.

Besides. It was nicer this way. Not quite as intimate as being created simultaneously from a pair of matched corpses, but one had to make concessions to the drawbacks of being organic.

With the nudge, Hart caught on quickly and put his arm around the other, drawing him in some with hand rested along the curve of Scourge's far shoulder.

Deep breath, he coached himself. He still wasn't alone.
No more falling to pieces, okay? Look, you've gotta look out for him. --and not just because Wally would have your ass over it. So to speak.
This time he didn't mind so much.

--but a robot. Really, Hart? I thought you had better taste than that.
Or so he thought.

Though, with the actualization of being a part of a team again, it was time to stop dragging in the role of the victim (as true and well placed as it may have been) and time to stand firm. There were people out there who needed help, and being able-bodied (--of 'sound mind' was a title he wasn't about to pretend he could wear yet), they were duty-bound to do something about it. Not because anyone was 'good' or 'bad', but because they were all in here together, pitted against something bigger and crueler than they could ever be. Human or otherwise, they had a right to live, and whoever this Landel bastard was--he was infringing on that.

Time to kick ass.

"I should be getting a map of this place in the morning. Between that and your experience--" That comment is left open to mean either of them. "--we should have an excellent grasp of the place. I'll leave a message out to Abe to see what he thinks of all of it, but would either of you two object to meeting up for breakfast? After--" he gave a quiet, albeit dry chuckle. "--nerves have settled of course."

After giving Piper one last hug -- since he figured they both could probably use it -- Bart grinned and all but literally bounced to his feet. Snuggling was nice and all, but he was ready to do something, despite the ball-and-chain Piper had apparently adopted, innuendo entirely unknown and unintended.

"I have no problem with meeting up tomorrow, but what are we going to do tonight?" he asked, definitely looking to Piper. Face it, Hart; you're the Man with the Plan. And you've got a hyperactive speedster on your hands, even if he does seem more subdued that he should have been at this age. Think fast.

Scourge stayed seated next to Piper, slipping one hand around to rest on his wingmate's hip. He was completely fine with just sitting on the bathroom floor for the rest of the night. As opposed to walking around, of course, if someone had a different place to sit that wasn't made of hard tile and smelling like purge he'd be all for it.

"You guys heard Landel, right? It sounds like he's keeping a pretty close eye on our communications. If we're going to make plans, we better do it while he and his cronies can't find us." He smirked, holding up his free hand and rubbing his fingers together in a shifty, roguish fashion. "And I know where chemical storage is, if we're going to be bombing anything."

Damn, Landel would be reading their plans on that too. "We should probably work out some kind of code to get stuff in under the radar, too. There's a few people here who know 'con script, but I'm guessing you two aren't amoung them."

"Music--" Hart replied swiftly, perking up some. "--I can code in sheet music. The code would be easy enough to teach to you and wouldn't have to rely on the given names for the notes, so it would be harder for others to figure out."

Plans. Of course. Time to up and move. --shame though, despite the smell (it wasn't that bad, there were far worse smelling things in the world), he was actually rather cozy now. Human (relatively speaking) contact did wonders for the mood.

"And going for chemicals now would be absolutely brilliant." He said, giving Scourge a slight nudge at the shoulder, which meant 'you offered, pony up'.

"And maybe--" Standing, Hart knew he was on a roll. So many ideas sprang to mind so quickly--it was all brilliant! "--my hearing's off, but I'm sure I'll be able to pull something together sonic-wise. After all--we have those radios, right? If I could only get my hands on the tools to take it apart, I'm sure I could whip up something useful."

Far steadier than before, he strode across the room to retrieve his fallen pipe, turning it over in his hands. "So if either of you have any suggestions, questions or comments, are their any objections to hitting said closet before returning to one of our rooms?"

"What kind of tools?" Bart asked, getting caught up in Piper's enthusiasm. This was probably just what he'd needed; somebody to give him some direction, some kind of purpose, without being a jerk about it. Piper was nice. He could work with Piper.

Shame they had to bring Scourge along, but oh well. At least he was good for something.

"There's a utilities closet upstairs," he said, thinking back to the map he'd seen on the bulletin board...which would probably be taken down by tomorrow. Good thing Piper had a copy coming. "We could look around, as long as we're up there...And the patients possessions room is close, too." He grinned. "We could check for your flute, too."

He was started to shift his weight from foot to foot, just shy of bouncing in place. Someone was eager to get moving.

Oh, is that what that pipe was about? It was far too inferior a weapon for his new wingmate, Scourge would have to see about getting him a blade to match his flute. Maybe a bladed flute. That would rock.

"I can try and hear for you, if you need me to," he said, eager now to find some way of being helpful. He was practically beaming as he got to his feet. "Not sure what my wavelength detection threshold is in this body but it's gotta be better than a human's."

Something actually happening! And plans! And...Scourge hadn't felt so excited in days (months, if you restricted it just to excitement over diabolical plans). Piper seemed to have a knack for bringing that out in him.

Scourge--good lord, he was a sweetie. Sometime soon, Hart needed to sit him down and give him the full talk on how his 'powers' really worked--from perception, to action, and back again. It...could almost be considered some kind of a feedback loop, but again, that was for another time.

"I'll be fine as far as hearing goes right now. Might get a little jumpy in the halls, but frayed nerves can be dealt with, right?"

Here's to hoping!
Well my god. I'm so glad to have your approval.
--is that sarcasm I'm sensing, Piper? Are you being smug?
Wouldn't you like to know~

"--just so long as we get there fast--" He tucked the pipe under an arm for a moment, retrieving his flashlight from its place jammed halfway into his coat pocket. Returning back to the balance of pipe for one hand, flashlight to the other, Hart mused that he felt an awful lot like an officer ready to raid a drug den or something. Usually the sort to leave his capture to the Flash, he didn't exactly know how officers handled themselves in a raid, but he'd seen enough on television to know how they snuck around and held their flashlights.

It was sort of thrilling.
Here's to holding that he didn't run into anything too bonechilling.

"Actually," he tapped the butt of his flashlight against the door. "--Scourge, can you lead? Bart will take after you and I'll bring up the rear."

And James, don't you even.
Eheh~ My lips are sealed, loverboy.

"Why am I in the middle?" Bart asked, giving Piper an exasperated look and mouthing 'what are you doing?' while Scourge wasn't looking. He was the speedster; he should be on point! Even though his powers weren't working right, he was still faster than anyone else here! -- Even if he couldn't really use his powers as long as Scourge was watching, because of that whole stupid secret identity thing...

Oh, so this was why working with people outside the hero community was a bad idea...Bart had always kept to himself or worked in small teams before, so he hadn't realized.

Leading his allies back to important things he'd found, now this was the sort of thing he'd been born to do!

...no, really. It was right there in his core programming, nestled between the visual detection and cowardice subroutines. Probably even had a little label on it.

"Because you don't know where we're going so you can't go first, and you don't have any weapons or sensory abilities so you can't go last," Scourge announced smugly. "If you want to take the back and get eaten by whatever's coming up behind us you can, but that wouldn't do the rest of us any good." Now hush and let the grownups talk, hero.

Blade held ahead of them, Scourge went back to the bathroom door and poked his head outside, then waved to the humans behind him. "Nobody's outside. Come on."

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html#comments)]

_{[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html?thread=60561057#t60561057)]}

Nightshift 44: Men's Bathrooms (M01-M40)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject