Day 46: Sun Room

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Peter woke up suddenly, his body twisting in the bed and then forcing him to catch his breath in pain. Pain, which was coming from his middle because of the thing that had scratched him last night, and after that...

After that, Zach had jumped in front of him like some kind of martyr, like the exact opposite of everything Sylar stood for, to take the next hit for him. It got pretty fuzzy after that, so night must have ended right around then.

The man let out a pained grunt as he straightened himself up in bed. For some reason, he got the feeling that he'd slept in. There was no way for him to really tell without a window in the room, but he just knew. The fact that Sam's bed looked long since vacated was another clue.

Sam, but was he Sam again? Had the brainwashing worn off, as he and Roland had hoped, or was he going to have to go through this nightmare for even longer? He didn't know how long he could handle "Zach" and "Harrison" before he started going batty himself.

Pulling himself out of bed, Peter lifted his shirt and saw that he was tightly bandaged. The scratch most likely wasn't nearly as bad as the bite that "Zach" had received, but it still smarted. He let his shirt fall and then had to deal with a nurse chiding him for sleeping through the morning announcements. Not that Peter really cared at the moment. He was too busy thinking about last night and the fact that in a way, he now owed something to Sylar. Except it hadn't been Sylar. That was something he was sure of now.

Lost in his thoughts, Peter reached the Sun Room right as the rest of the patient populace was trickling in from breakfast. Sighing to himself, he headed over to the bulletin board and then saw a note written in familiar yet unpleasant handwriting. Holding his pen in a vice grip, Peter scribbled out a reply and then stalked over to an armchair and fell into it with a huff.

While Sylar was maddeningly frustrating, there was one good thing about the fact that he was himself again. It meant that Nathan was too.

[For Spock!]

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[shamusdoggydog.livejournal.com]

It took Sam a second to place his face. Oh yeah. It was Scott, the one who'd been interested in bigfoots yesterday. All the people here looked the same, that was the problem. They all had different faces and skin colour and hair colour, but they were still all human. No diversity at all. Sam briefly forgot that he was also human at the moment.

Well, he should probably stop moping over Max now anyway. People might get the wrong idea about the two of them. That had cost Sam a few dates in the past. One or two dates. Or really just one. Maybe.

"The usual," said Sam. "Er, we spoke yesterday, remember?" Was it yesterday? Time seemed a little screwy here, but he'd only spent one night in this place. It had to have been yesterday.

[vstheworld]

Still with the voice thing. Sam sounded juuuuuuust about right, but there was something just barely off about it. He thought he had been imagining that on his first day, but no, it was still there. What was it?

"...Nah dude, it's been, like, two or three days since we talked," he answered, sounding confused now. Had Sam lost some time somehow? Maybe he had been affected by that weird day full of people talking about feeling "better" or something and just didn't remember the missing day. That would still only account for one day, though. Huh. "You feelin' okay?"

[shamusdoggydog.livejournal.com]

Now Sam was confused. "If by feeling okay, you mean aside from being imprisoned in a snubnosed body inside an alleged hellhole while the presumably unqualified nurses tell me I'm nuts, yeah. Are you feeling okay?" Maybe he had somehow missed out on a few days, but the last thing he remembered before waking up still felt like last night, or was at least consistent with how long things always seemed to take around here, and that bothered him. Sam had been unconscious for almost a decade once, and he'd definitely felt like some time had passed when he woke up. He didn't like the idea that he could lose a few days and not notice.

[vstheworld]

"Yeah, and in about the same way, I guess, save the body thing," said Scott with a wry grin. He had to admit that the institute wasn't so bad during the day, but he really could do without all the things out to eat the patients during the night. Oh, and the whole being separated from his girlfriend thing. That kinda hurt. Just a little. Hold on, Rammy baby, I'm comin' for ya! Just gimme a little while longer to figure this one out! he thought, clenching his fist in his lap.

"Still haven't seen or heard anyone like Max, by the way," he added with a slight sigh of disappointment. Incredibly awesome as it was to talk to Sam, it did feel a bit weird not to hear the insane little rabbit following up on each of his sentences. "If it helps, I'm here without anyone else I know, either. It really does suck majorly, nice as everyone I've met here is."

[shamusdoggydog.livejournal.com]

Sam was feeling fine, Scott was feeling fine, but their stories didn't add up. And Sam didn't want to be the crazy one.

"Uh..." said Sam. Was Scott trying to make him feel better? That was a weird feeling. Most people he knew kept their distance. Except Max of course, but he really wasn't the thoughtful type. "Er... thanks. I uh, hope you meet up with someone you know."

[vstheworld]

"At the very least, I think the guy running this place might be someone I know. Er, know of, anyway. Not sure. He might be at least connected with this place," said Scott, scratching his head in minor confusion. The idea that Landel was Gideon (or at least in cahoots) made enough sense in his head, but it was hard to explain out loud. "They're both pretty mysterious, evil dudes that hardly anyone ever sees, anyway."