damned_institute | 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.

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James Earl had taken time out of his busy schedule for this. He loved his brother and despite the rather unfortunate attempt on his and his son's life, he had decided that there would be no point in taking further action against Jeremy. Being in a place like this was punishment enough, wasn't it?

Sighing softly, he replied, "Jeremy, let's not speak of that. It was unfortunate, but I do not blame you for it." How could he? Of course, when he'd first learned, his rage had been unstoppable. He would have beaten his brother to death, had his wife not calmed him down. Then, almost as sudden, had come the news of Jeremy's illness. "Remember who you are, Jeremy. You are my brother, family. Remember."

He felt slightly uncomfortable being here. Would the nurses be upset if he... Jeremy. That did not sound like his brother's name. Leaning forward, James Earl whispered softly. "Scar, I'm not dead. You must remember that." Why his brother was so upset he could not imagine. If things escalated, he would have to call the nurses. That would certainly be undesirable.

Almost ever part of him denied the existence of the person sitting in front of him. He was dead. He made sure of it! He had stood over his dead body! This couldn't be!He's not real.

A fake, he reminded himself. Merely some trick of this place to most likely convince him of these lies. And of course the lie would forgive him for whatever had he thought had happened. It didn't have the same outcome, from the looks of things. He released the breath he had not realized he was holding, forcing himself to calm down. He seemed to finally regain his composure, though his tension and uneasiness still remained. Not due to the lack of blaming, but simply because he was not in immediate danger. And for some reason, reassurring himself that this was not Mufasa seemed to help.

And the wave of panic made place for bitterness.

"I remember quite well," he said bitterly, for once uncertain what else to say. What could he say? What could he possibly discuss with a lie? And even if the person sitting across him had been the real thing, what were you supposed to say to someone you had killed?

He finally dared to look up to the persona cross. Of course, it was not a lion, but a human. Yet, watching such a familiar yet different face was almost as unnerving as watching his own in those reflective surfaces. He could easily notice the similarities between the brother that had overshadowed him for so long and it's...human counterpart seated in front of him. Not to mention the familiar, dignified air. Yes, he had heard much about those visitors, that they had been convincing. But hearing about it and experiencing first-hand were two different things entirely, though Scar was anything but grateful.

The next words caught the former lion off guard. Of course, not the part about him being dead. He could see that! He simply hadn't expected to be called 'Scar' now, of all times. Why was that?

"Well now, brother," Scar said, the last word almost mocking. "Why would you call me such? Or perhaps I should ask what you are doing here in the first place."

It upset him to see his brother so tormented. He was disappointed in himself, for not being able to instill in his own kind the morals that his father had instilled in him. Jeremy had done wrong, yes, but was this punishment not too cruel? To think of himself as a lion... utter nonsense.

"Jeremy, I never meant for you to come here. I thought family could help you better. But... Sarah insisted. She said it would be best for you if you could cope with the trauma. You would be home soon." He shouldn't have listened, but he loved his wife and her judgements had always been just and true. James Earl did not want to see his brother here.

His ears did not mistake the mocking tone and his eyes narrowed for a moment. "I know I should call you Jeremy, but to me, you've been Scar since our teenhood. I feel like father scolding you when I call you Jeremy." His features softened and he smiled. "I wanted to come and see how you are. I want you to come home, Scar. Come now, tell me about your progress." He could have easily asked the nurses, but James Earl wanted to hear his brother talk about it. Hopefully, he could be honest.

Teenhood? Scar could guess what would have led to this apparent 'nickname' he had in this made-up life. A certain incident, though he obviously couldn't tell how similar that incident would be compared to his own life. These similarities were unnerving to say the least.

The word 'trauma' caught his attention, though he wasn't certain if he wished to know right now. Neither did the home his 'brother' mentioned sound appealing. Having a human life with such ridiculous customs forever seemed outright terrible. He wanted to return home, but not the home the person in front of him suggested.

Even if such an easy way out seemed good As opposed to the life he looked forward to back home. His nephew was still alive and would take over the throne he had worked for. But he didn't want to return to a life back in the shadows.

"I am fine," Scar responded bitterly. "Or how fine one can be in such a dreadful place."

Of course he would put on the bitter front. Didn't he have the same reaction when his son was born, claiming that he had been shafted for the child? James Earl had tried to be polite, but his brother, petulant as ever, was trying his patience. Soon, he would have to leave, especially if things progressed the way they were doing so now. He had not come here for an argument, especially not now.

"I'm sure your live here is most awful, Jeremy, but if you tried a little bit, things would be better for you. I haven't abandoned you. I believe you can come back from this."

James Earl glanced around the room. Some patients seemed happy to see their visitors, embracing them. Why wouldn't his brother do the same? Landel's had state of the art therapy sessions. Yet Jeremy seemed to make no progress.

"What else have you been doing? How do they entertain you here?"

Try what, precisely? Give in to those lies? To believe the lie sitting in front of him?! Familiar annoyance flared up inside of him as this conversation with his 'brother' continued. He had thought he would never have to deal with the situation again. And now they came up with this. Weren't those animated corpses last night not enough?! What in the world had he done wrong to deserve all this?! His brother's death, Mufasa's death, had been justified. He had deserved it!

He preferred a reality where his brother would be dead. How he hated him and his so-called perfection, and this version seemed to be little different from the one he knew.

Scar's reaction did little to resolve the obvious tension in this conversation. "I must have missed something. Do you mean to say that they," an awkward gesture towards the staff, "are here for the purpose of entertaining me? If so, they are doing a remarkably bad job. Since when is being treated like some cub entertaining?" Whining to the one across him had little use, he realized that well. That obviously didn't stop the former lion from doing so, however.

"What would honestly you expect of me to do here?" he continued, not being too cooperative.

Day 43: Waiting Room/Lobby 2, Third Shift

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