Lelouch vi Britannia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kingside) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2009-08-17 12:37 pm
kingside) wrote in damned_institute2009-08-17 12:37 pm
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Day 43: Waiting Room/Lobby 2, Third Shift
It would have been impossible not to see this coming, but after the night he'd had and seeing Euphy in the cafeteria-- hadn't the past twenty-four hours been enough? He couldn't do this anymore, not after seeing her walking around as if nothing had happened and knowing that Suzaku was going through a similar ordeal. His knight-- no, former knight now-- had been so transformed by her death, and having to behave now as if none of that had occurred had to be-- but it was out of Lelouch's hands now. Both of them were, and although he would have liked nothing more than to speak to her again or tell Suzaku why he couldn't tell him what had happened, he couldn't do that to either of them. It would be easier for them this way.
For him, however, the torment was just beginning. There was a wide variety of people the institute staff could have chosen from that would have a deep impact on him, but when the most obvious choice would have the worst-- he couldn't do this! He had spent almost all of his time here carefully shutting out thoughts of Nunnally after Suzaku had told him what would happen to her, but if he had to come face to face with her-- the walls were already beginning to crumble, and if it hadn't been for the fact that he knew his nurse would have grabbed and probably sedated him the instant he tried to bolt, he would have done so immediately.
As things were, he allowed himself to be led placidly through the Sun Room and the main hall, eyes downcast and shoulders beginning to quake ever so slightly with barely contained emotion. Nunnally-- he hadn't had a conversation with her-- a real conversation, not something rushed over the phone that hid more from her than he ever wanted and not something filled with lies and false reassurances, but a real conversation where he could ask how her day had been and lightly cradle her hand in his as she excitedly told him about the latest tidbit Sayoko had told her about Japanese culture or expressed worry about something in class she hadn't fully understood or sweetly smiled at him as she--
Lelouch shut his eyes tightly, barely hearing the nurse as she left him in the lobby to find a seat and somehow keep himself preoccupied while he waited and tried his hardest not to remember what the rest of his conversation with Suzaku had held that night. If he did...
Slowly, he began to walk over to one of the chairs, all but collapsing into it once he'd reached it and sagging forwards so that his elbows rested on his knees and only barely kept him seated upright. He didn't know how much more he could take, and if his visitor was Nunnally, then-- then what? He wasn't sure. And Nunnally-- what was he supposed to tell her? What could he even say? How could anyone expect him to talk to her now as if everything was normal when he had to-- when there was no way he could--
He stared down at the floor and waited, face blank. He would just have to get through this somehow, and after that-- he would deal with that later. He had to.
For him, however, the torment was just beginning. There was a wide variety of people the institute staff could have chosen from that would have a deep impact on him, but when the most obvious choice would have the worst-- he couldn't do this! He had spent almost all of his time here carefully shutting out thoughts of Nunnally after Suzaku had told him what would happen to her, but if he had to come face to face with her-- the walls were already beginning to crumble, and if it hadn't been for the fact that he knew his nurse would have grabbed and probably sedated him the instant he tried to bolt, he would have done so immediately.
As things were, he allowed himself to be led placidly through the Sun Room and the main hall, eyes downcast and shoulders beginning to quake ever so slightly with barely contained emotion. Nunnally-- he hadn't had a conversation with her-- a real conversation, not something rushed over the phone that hid more from her than he ever wanted and not something filled with lies and false reassurances, but a real conversation where he could ask how her day had been and lightly cradle her hand in his as she excitedly told him about the latest tidbit Sayoko had told her about Japanese culture or expressed worry about something in class she hadn't fully understood or sweetly smiled at him as she--
Lelouch shut his eyes tightly, barely hearing the nurse as she left him in the lobby to find a seat and somehow keep himself preoccupied while he waited and tried his hardest not to remember what the rest of his conversation with Suzaku had held that night. If he did...
Slowly, he began to walk over to one of the chairs, all but collapsing into it once he'd reached it and sagging forwards so that his elbows rested on his knees and only barely kept him seated upright. He didn't know how much more he could take, and if his visitor was Nunnally, then-- then what? He wasn't sure. And Nunnally-- what was he supposed to tell her? What could he even say? How could anyone expect him to talk to her now as if everything was normal when he had to-- when there was no way he could--
He stared down at the floor and waited, face blank. He would just have to get through this somehow, and after that-- he would deal with that later. He had to.
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He had the marks on his back to show where he'd been torn and his forearms were still scratched and bruised. But if the nurses didn't buy it he doubted not-Cyclonus would.
The tracker sat firmly back in his chair, arms folded. What was this guy's game?
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He did look a little scuffed up. How had Levi missed it?
Without thinking, he stood up, went to Joshua's side, and took one of his arms, pulling it gently away from Joshua's chest and peering at the damage. Nothing major, just bruises and scratches, but...
It probably could have been done with silverware, nails, and Joshua getting into a scrape with another patient-- or even by a belligerent piece of furniture-- but it still made Levi worry, examining the scratches for the redness of infection.
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The nurses had never seemed this concerned. They just bandaged him up like a broken drone and sent him on his way.
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"I don't know about spiders and zombies," he continued, releasing that arm and gently taking the other, "but it's not good that you're getting hurt here."
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Maybe he could play the game too, and win at it.
"Then get me out of here," Scourge pleaded. "I don't like it here."
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"Joshua," he said, deep voice a little too rough-edged before he cleared his throat and looked up, "I... I've done everything I can to help you myself. I can't do it on my own. I thought I could, but I can't." He gestured around. "This is like any other rehab; it won't work if you stop too soon, and you'll hate every moment of it, but it's the help you need." (He frowned, and glanced at Joshua's arms, and shook his head. Even if Joshua believed in zombies and killer bugs, and was banged up? Was this really what he needed...?)
What Joshua needed...
"Oh," he said, "I nearly forgot." He stood up and dug into his jacket pocket, glancing around at the nurses-- none looking their way, good; he hadn't checked that this would be okay-- before slipping a three-tall stack of chocolate bars into Joshua's hand, the kind that was in gold foil and elegant wrapping and clearly more expensive then the ones you grabbed at the checkout of a grocery store. "I figured they wouldn't have much candy here," he said, almost apologetic for the smallness of the gift, then asked (as if suddenly realizing that Joshua wasn't guaranteed to be the friend he'd always known), "You do still like chocolate?"
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"Well, at least you're good for something," he admitted, breaking off the tiniest square and popping it in his mouth. The taste nearly made him swoon. This was better than syrup and cake, this was...the humans would call it 'heavenly'. He let the fragment melt in his mouth, eyes closing for a moment before flipping open again.
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He glanced back at his chair, then at Joshua, and said, quietly, "Would you like me to take a look at your back, too?" Not that he could do anything, except maybe yell at a nurse to give Joshua better medical treatment for whatever scuffles and scrapes he'd gotten into, but...
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Levi made a suitably impressed noise at the fresh scars, leaning in and gently probing them. "They're healing cleanly," he remarked, pleased, and gave Joshua something like a wry smile as he asked (obviously skeptical, but just as obviously wanting Joshua to talk to him, even about crazy things), "Are these from the zombies or the spider?"
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Probably a patient even crazier than Joshua. It had been years since he'd taken college psychology, but he supposed Joshua could have pinned someone else as a 'spider' in his fantasies, like he'd pinned Levi as Cyclonus.
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Scourge craned his neck around to look at what was happening. "So you're my friend, yeah?" he asked conversationally. "Do we have any other friends? Like the kind who are big and loud and like shooting people?"
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And then... then, Joshua showed interest, but Levi remembered this, from the hospital, and his faint smile went tense and uneasy.
"No friends like that," he answered, lowly, "though it's a fair enough description of your father."
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Besides, he knew how humans reproduced and Galvatron doing that...ew.
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Now there was something. Scourge watched notCyclonus' face carefully. If anything would stir his memories, it would be that name.
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Divine inspiration didn't strike him, and no divine bolts struck Scourge, so after a moment he figured he was on his own for this one.
"Fine, you were created by an ass who wasn't your dad who isn't your 'Galvatron,' and nobody is anyone else," he agreed, blandly.
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It made him feel better, oddly enough. Better to not see Cyclonus than see his mind destroyed by this disgusting place.
"Well, as long as I don't have to talk to him," Scourge agreed cheerfully. He popped another piece of chocolate in his mouth, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs.
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Scourge ate messily, leaving smears of melted chocolate on his fingers.