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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[sheisthecause.livejournal.com]

All right, Meche told herself as the nurse dropped her off at the Sun Room door, on with the campaign of meeting new people. It sounded as though this room was pretty much the only game in town this shift other than therapy, so she already had a pretty big crowd to choose from when she arrived--although she had to wonder again where Manny and Senna were. Sleeping late? Meche caught herself getting apprehensive and stopped. It was probably nothing. Maybe she was just early.

She glanced around, looking for someone who didn't seem too busy for some company. It didn't take long. A young girl (with pink hair again, but even that was starting not to seem too unusual by now) was plunked down on one of the sofas nearby, playing with one of the kittens. The little darling was obviously really loving the attention; Meche could hear him purring from here. Another animal lover! Yep, she was sold.

"Looks like you've made a friend," she said as she came around the sofa, smiling at both the girl and the cat. Boy, what an adorable pair; you could put them on a Christmas card. "Oh, just look at him. He probably thinks he's in kitty heaven right now." Her voice ended in a coo as she bent down a little to get a closer look at him.

"Kitty heaven" was supposed to be just an expression, but Meche found herself wondering if a place like that really existed. Well, there were birds in the Eighth Underworld, right, so it seemed likely that there was room for animals in the Land of Eternal rest, too, if they could find a way to get there. Too bad that wasn't the kind of question her travel agent ever seemed to have any answers to.

[euphemise.livejournal.com]

Euphemia looked up at the woman and smiled brightly, stopping her motions for just a moment - long enough that the tabby kitten mewed and looked up at both of them, as if asking why that fun had stopped and what he could do to get more of it. "I think he does think he's in kitty heaven," she giggled, dangling a little bit of her long hair down to where it could bat at it. "And such a cutie-pie. I didn't get to have pets at home, so I'm glad that these little cuties are around."

She'd pretty much warmed up to her new companion the moment she heard that coo, but the idea of there being a kitty heaven sold her. The mental image made her smile - little kittens with wings. She suspected that idea would not be nearly so practical in reality, though, as much as it would be really, really cute to go make some wings and then put them on the kitty.

"Oh! I'm Euphemia," she smiled, giggling again as the kitten batted and played with her hair, purring happily and making short little squeaks. "And...hm. This guy needs a name...what do you think he looks like?"

[sheisthecause.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I know; having animals here really brightens the place up," Meche agreed enthusiastically, trying not to think about where they went at night. She hoped it was somewhere safe and not that terrible lab kennel upstairs.

The kitten was just loving the girl's hair, practically going at it like a prize fighter. Meche felt just a little bit jealous when she thought about her own short bob. If they were going to be in the Land of the Living for a while, she could grow it out if she wanted to--but then again, she hoped they weren't going to be here for that long, not with the children who-knew-where.

Euphemia, hm. That was a new one. "I'm Meche," she introduced herself. "And as for this handsome little guy..." What did he look like? She thought about suggesting "Manny," but something told her the original owner of that name wouldn't be appropriately thrilled to hear about his new feline namesake. Maybe she'd better steer clear of names of people she knew altogether--or at least directly. "Hmmm...he looks like an 'Angelo' to me," Meche decided, pronouncing the name in Spanish, of course. "What about you?"

[euphemise.livejournal.com]

"It really does," Euphy agreed, and would have nodded had there not been one very small, very tenacious kitten determined not to let go of her hair. The smile would have to suffice.

"It's great to meet you, Meche," she said, careful to get the pronunciation correct. "And I agree. Don't you, Angelo?" For a second time, she echoed the pronunciation, only then figuring out that it was Spanish she was hearing. "I was thinking maybe Arthur, but I think that's reserved for a certain cat who lives at my friends' school. So! That's set," she said, and this time did - carefully - nod.

"So...how long have you been here?"

[sheisthecause.livejournal.com]

Little Angelo in kitty heaven. If only she had a camera; someone should really be getting video of this and playing it on a loop at mealtimes to boost morale.

"It's nice to meet you too. Any friend of the cats is definitely a friend of mine," she replied with a smile. And since she'd just figured out how long she'd been here last shift, Meche was quick with her answer to that too: "Two weeks tomorrow." She made a face. "Wow, hard to believe it's already been that long. I was really hoping we'd be out of here by now." But that was the way these things worked, she knew from experience--you started out hopeful, thinking there must be some easy way out of where you were, and day by day that hope soured into bitterness.

Even with the kitten there, she was so distracted today. Meche shrugged those thoughts off as best she could and got up from the floor, moving over to the sofa to sit next to Euphemia. "What about you?" she asked. "Have you been here long?"

[euphemise.livejournal.com]

Euphy agreed about needing to film things like this. She wasn't particularly camera-shy, and it didn't look like Angelo would mind, either, as long as he still got to play and be the center of attention. Which he would, being the adorable little thing that he was.

"Likewise," the princess said, with a bright smile. "I love animals, I just wish I'd had more time for that kind of thing. Things were busy before..."

She trailed off, making a face of her own. The thought about what had happened, and what might happen once she was out of here...but she wouldn't think of it now. "It's just been a few days for me...I think three? It's been too long, though. I've learned more than I wanted to about stuff back home..."

[sheisthecause.livejournal.com]

"Don't say it like that, Euphemia," Meche said quickly. She was trying to sound resolute and encouraging, but to her it came out more like she was pleading. "You can't think in the past tense. We're going to get out of here, and then you'll be able to make time for a pet if you want." Normally this would've been a good point in the conversation to mention how many sweet puppies and kitties in animal shelters needed adopting, but here it just didn't seem like the time. Did they even have animal shelters where Euphemia came from? It couldn't be anyplace Meche was familiar with; the girl's roots looked far too consistent for the pink to be a dye.

Learned about stuff back home? Meche would swear off decent stockings forever for a scrap of news about the children, or even Glottis. "Is someone else you know from home here?" she asked.