damned_institute | Day 46: Sun Room

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Day 46: Sun Room

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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Sam frowned. Did she expect him to have the same ability? He could sense demons in another well enough, but a possessed body was completely different. The only connection he'd ever had with any of the other kids had been through the visions and the nightmares. They were linked by blood, but that was about it. Anyway, after Yellow-Eyes died, the connection had been effectively severed. He knew there must've been other generations around—Rosie, for one—but it'd all ended regardless.

Until here.

He peered at her, curious to see if she was somehow right—there was a lot that was beyond his expectations in this place—but he wasn't surprised when he found nothing.

"No. No, I don't. I mean, your eyes are oddly colored," he said. "That's generally a mark of someone...not quite human, but it's a only a physical observation."

A sign of a demon, usually—one that was more than your average black-eyed minion—but if she'd been one, he would've been able to tell. No, she was something else. Something that wasn't like him, but similar.

"What do you see in me? I remember you mentioned hybrids, but I don't know what that exactly means."

"That doesn't surprise me. You were merely indulging my curiosity," Teresa replied. "The other hybrid that was here before was unable to sense youki as well." As usual, the Number One's senses were far superior to the rest.

"And you are quite right about my eyes. They were once as dark as yours when I was still human. I am a half-human/half-youma hybrid - half demon, that is. Just like you. And that is what I sense. I can feel your essence, your energy, as if flows through your body. That energy is what I call youki."

As in yokai? Which was really just an all-encompassing term for anything supernatural in Japanese folklore, but...there was a lot of this popping up, Sam had noticed, from several of the patients. The shinigami, for example. He didn't know what it meant; it was more of a curiosity than anything particularly suspicious, but it was definitely bizarre.

Everything else she said, though, added up.

"There were a number of us who were dosed with demon blood. I was one of them." He might as well come out with it; he recalled spilling much to her, and even if he hadn't, she apparently already knew.

He shifted his weight to his other leg. "Can I ask how you even know any of this? It's not exactly common knowledge, demons. The people I met who were...like me, none of them knew the source of their abilities."

Was she a hunter or just someone who had connections? Both were possible, though unexpected at the same time. Sam just hadn't expected to come across another who happened to be both a hunter and have abilities. Hell, before here, he hadn't expected to come across anyone else with abilities, period. And to run into her like this? It just seemed to be a odd sort of coincidence that had to be more than chance, but at the same time, he didn't know what to make of it. Especially when she seemed—different, regardless. Further along? Maybe.

Or maybe she simply connected to a different demon. There was nothing to say that Azazel was connected in any way to anyone here. In fact, Sam was pretty damn sure if Teresa had been one of his, she would've been pulled into his little game at Cold Oak two years ago. Considering Ruby's blood had certain effects, it was completely possible that another demon had taken up the same process somewhere else. Hell had its own warring factions. Demons were hardly a united group of creatures.

Edited 2009-12-17 08:03 (UTC)

Nodding the warrior continued. "As an infant, if I recall correctly. I, on the other hand was nearing my first decade when I was fused with youma flesh. The process was quite horrific," so much that Teresa had blocked most of it from her memories, "and aside from draining the color from my hair and granting me these eyes, it also bestowed enhanced abilities and other properties unique to each hybrid."

Sam and the others like him, Teresa believed, were most likely test subjects from across the waters and not from the land she was. That would explain why she hadn't heard of males being used again. Perhaps this infant infusion was a more advanced way of creating humans, making the youma more of a part of the human so the likelihood of the male awakening was greatly reduced. She would not put it past the Organization.

"The Organization, a large grouping of humans supposedly dedicated to the destruction of the youma, created me and those like me. Our purpose was to combat the youma as they are very hard to find given their ability to masquerade as humans. Tell me, Sam, do you posses a mark on your body from the youma's blood?"

Sam glanced at her, surprised. Okay, now this was starting to veer off track. Dammit, why did things always look as if they were adding up only to go screeching off the rails altogether in the next second? He swore it was like trying to put together a puzzle with someone giving you the pieces one by one and every so often, they'd hand you a block of wood just to screw with you.

And what did she mean by flesh? Or, scratch that, considering he figured he knew what she meant. He'd just. That was a new one. Definitely new.

"What? No. I've—never heard of the Organization." What she described made them sound like hunters, but hunters? Anything but organized. They collaborated from time to time if the crisis was big enough; that was as close as it got to a group effort. And hunters sure as hell weren't going around making all of these psychic kids, so the only thing he could think of was that she was describing a group of demons who masqueraded as hunters. A group of demons who thought they could turn on their own kind this way?

On the other hand, if she could sense demons, then she'd obviously be able to tell whether they were human or demon. He knew being possessed wasn't quite the same as what was done to him, but the demonic essence had to run through the blood in both cases. There was no other way to explain why Yellow-Eyes could've done what he could with his generation of half-demon kids, why a demon could possess a two-month old corpse and pass as perfectly living, breathing human being. However it worked, the demon was what served to power the body.

So what was she...? Jesus Christ, this made no sense at all.

Sam hesitated as he debated how much he wanted to say. How much he needed to say without saying too much.

"The demon was the one who infected me and the others," he replied. "We were meant to be his...soldiers, if you will. The, uh, the idea was that we could pass more easily as human than even a demon could. Walk both worlds. Or I assume it was. He never exactly gave up the details of his grand plan, you know?"

Edited 2009-12-17 17:22 (UTC)

"I am not surprised you've never heard of the Organization. The land I am from can be traversed on foot from one end to another in a bit over a week. There is a greater land across the waters, which is most likely where you may be from, but I have never ventured to it," Teresa replied.

What Sam described sounded a lot more like something the Abyssal Ones would do to strengthen their hold on the areas they claimed, by effectively creating offspring. In the end, though, the exact specifications of the hybridization did not matter.

"Regardless of how we came to be, we both are half-demon and have to deal with everything that entails." She chuckled. "And you didn't answer my question. Don't tell me you're bashful."

He frowned. "Excuse me?"

That was an odd way of describing where she was from. But Teresa hadn't been the only one; combined with, what. The multitude of things that were similar, but not? Add it up together and...there was only one thing that could explain it away to any degree of satisfaction.

He really needed some way to research this. It was frustrating when all he had were bits and pieces that he stumbled across every so often.

"I'm not marked. Nobody I knew had been, either," Sam replied. "But you're saying you are?"

She wasn't particularly specific about what she meant. She could be talking about anything from a tattoo to a scar. It wouldn't be out of the question; demons did like leaving their signature behind. There was no reason, after all, for the demon to have burned its victims on the ceiling the way it had, except to send a message.

"If the land I am from has a name, I was not informed of it," Teresa replied, calmly. "The Organization is not very big on education. I am only literate because I had been taught before they took me."

Hmmm... The method of hybridization would explain why Sam did not have a mark. Then again, he also lacked the silver eyes. He was the product of a more complete hybridization. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if the demon was so fused to his human side that he would never have to fear awakening. Then again, that also meant he probably had significantly less power than one of the Organization's.

"Yes, I bear the Youma's Mark," she confirmed.

That all certainly sounded out there. Sam didn't know what to make of it. He couldn't deny, though, he was curious now in more than just what she happened to know. It wasn't that he didn't believe her, but reconciling something that sounded out of a scripted B-movie with apparent reality took a bit of work on his part.

He didn't comment, offering wryly instead, "Raised like a soldier?" because he figured she wouldn't be one to take too well to a generic extension of, I'm sorry. Besides, this left things open enough that he might get more out of her about her past if she was willing to divulge it.

As for her mark, that wasn't quite the explanation he'd been looking for, but then again, he hadn't asked her to elaborate specifically.

"What mark is that exactly? I mean, if...you don't mind me asking. I've never seen or heard of it before."

He kept trying to cross-reference with what he already knew, but no. Coming up blank. Whatever it was she was referring to here, he needed some real resources before he could start verifying some things on his own. In other words, as long as he was here, he was pretty much flat out of luck. God, this was gonna be the death of him. Quite possibly in a literal sense.

"Quite," Teresa replied. "Raised in barracks after the transformation stabilized until I was no longer a whelp and ready to take my place among the forty-seven." She had little qualms about speaking of her time as one of the Organization's. She was less likely to divulge anything from her defection on, though. It was... personal.

"It is a crude craft, the hybridization I underwent." Her lips curled up. "Think of the mark as more of a scar, if you will. It is the site where I received the youma's flesh."

Smoothly transitioning off of the topic of the mark, Teresa asked, "And you... are a scholar?"

So a scar then. Sam couldn't imagine what must've been done for her to have gotten a scar from the process, but evidently, there wasn't any ingestion involved. In fact, from what she said, it almost sounded like she'd had it grafted onto her.

Yeah, definitely something to look into. He let it drop for the time being. Short of asking her to show it to him, which simply wouldn't be appropriate at this stage, he didn't think there was more she could offer him on the topic.

At her question, he hesitated. With anyone else, he wouldn't have stopped to consider before he took up the opportunity of pretending he wasn't anything more than someone who happened to read too much about everything (which Dean would claim was true, but that was beside the point), but there was something about unexpectedly discovering someone who was in the same category of freak that you were.

"Well, I was a student if that's what you mean," he said. "But that was awhile ago. Things happened and life got in the way. I guess you'd know how that goes," he added, glancing up.

Edited 2009-12-18 04:14 (UTC)

"I suppose I do," Teresa replied. For the briefest moment, something flickered in her eyes. "At least you got to live most of your life as a human."

Pushing her hair behind her shoulder, that smile touched her lips. "So what have you been doing with your new found existence?"

A few seconds ticked by as Sam studied her. That was true. Things could've gone downhill a lot sooner, and while he still couldn't call it lucky that Dean was alive yet still dying, his brother was...back regardless. It was something.

"Yeah," he agreed, quiet. "Yeah, I did."

Anyway, he didn't really hold it against their dad anymore, the way they'd been raised, and not only because it'd been a long time since those days at this point. But it was pretty obvious that he would've ended up here either way. Maybe it'd been obvious back then, too, and he'd just been too stubborn to admit it.

"And I don't know," he continued, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "Looking for answers, I guess. Seeing who I can help along the way."

Despite the bandits attacking that village, Teresa still believed that Clare should have lived a human life among humans. The Number One could not give the girl the life she deserved. If only she had chosen a different village to leave Clare in. If only she had slaughtered them the first time she crossed paths with those bandits. At least then Clare would be alive. Sam was very lucky to have lived a human life for as long as he had. In a way, Teresa was almost jealous.

But enough of that. It was what it was and Teresa was the Number One, was a monster, just like Sam. He just had the luxury of a far better hybridization than she.

"What kind of answers are you looking for? If they are in regards to yourself and your abilities, I suspect they are still in the development process. It does take a long time to stabilize and reach a form of harmony."

The answers Sam was looking for were mostly centered around Lilith and whether he could kill the bitch yet, but he decided not to correct Teresa on that when she was close enough in some respects. He hadn't actively questioned his abilities in awhile if only because there was simply no point when Yellow-Eyes had been long dead by now and no demon was going to just tell him what he wanted to know. And for awhile there, Lilith had taken top priority, but ever since being dragged into this place, well. Things did change.

"They've mostly stabilized, actually," he said. "There were a couple of years where they'd hit out of nowhere, but it hasn't—it's been awhile since that happened."

No doubt due to the fact that he'd avoided even trying to control them for the first two years. He never should've, he knew that now, but with Dad's warning and the way they'd freaked Dean out—even if he had wanted to get them under his control at the time, he doubted he'd have been able to with Dean there, giving him that look that Sam could never tell was worry for him or of him.

Frankly, it felt strange even now talking about it with Teresa. Not that it was a bad thing; far from it. But he hadn't ever been this open about the subject of his powers with anyone but Ruby, and he hadn't ever expected to. It was different. Kind of a relief, if he had to be honest.

Edited 2009-12-18 05:39 (UTC)

Teresa laughed a little, an oddly light sound coming from the warrior, as she recalled her first couple years. "The sudden development does throw you off for a while. I remember being incapable of resting for nearly a month straight when I matured." That was when her 'problem child' reputation first began.

"Have you done any specific training - learned to harness your youki without letting it overwhelm you?"

Sam flashed a small smile in return. "Something like that. It's been working so far."

Except...except what? Except he could do more? He could, he knew that. Ruby made damn sure he knew that. And he had done more, once. He didn't even have the excuse of being a little drunk when Ruby had talked him into it, either. He'd agreed. He'd said yes and he'd known perfectly well what he was agreeing to. But after—he hadn't done it again. There had to be a line somewhere. Didn't there?

Never mind that that line had readjusted itself several times by now.

"You, um. I remember you said you had some experience with the dreams, too. Were they actually dreams or were they—did you mean visions?"

The only other person he'd known of who'd developed along similar lines to him was Ava. He was curious if Teresa was the same. Could she do what he did? She did say she was trained to hunt demons, after all. It'd be a hell of a coincidence if it were true.

"Take this as you will, but the type of hybridization I underwent was originally used on males in the first generation. It was proven they could not properly control their youki and so all awakened. Since then, males have never been used," Teresa replied. "Now your hybridization is a much finer form, much more precise. It is very likely that will offset the control issues males tend to have. I hope so." For Sam's sake. Teresa would be watching him regardless. She may no longer be one of the Organization's, but she will not suffer an awakened to live.

"As for the dreams, they were mostly dreams. Some were not. I wouldn't call them visions, though. It was less seeing the future as it was sensing in my dreams something that was occurring at that moment in a locale other than where I currently was. Nearby, yes, but certainly not in sight."

Wait, what?

Sam raised his eyebrows, half intrigued and half surprised. Not so much at the implication of the news; he'd been told plenty of times he was going to go dark-side, and even now, he knew he wasn't exactly home-free. That wasn't just something that disappeared. But her explanation for it? It wasn't ringing as the Antichrist thing Gordon had been going on about. What Dad had been so worried about he spent his dying breath warning Dean about it.

Whatever experience she had with this, it was undeniably quite different from his. But it was close enough at the same time that he couldn't help responding to it.

"I've been told, actually," he began carefully. "Of something similar. I wasn't told in those exact terms, but the gist has always been pretty clear that I might be playing with fire by using what I have."

He didn't know what he was looking for with that. Validation that developing his abilities was the right way to go as opposed to suppressing them and failing dismally the way he had before? From a stranger, no less, which was probably pretty pathetic, and he wasn't sure why he was bothering, anyway. It didn't change that if it meant saving Dean, it was worth the risk. It would always be worth the risk. He'd spent too much of his life playing it safe only to have it thrown in his face in the end.

Still.

With a nod, Teresa continued. "Anytime you access your youki, you run the risk of it overwhelming you. I am glad you've already been warned. I was... concerned as you don't seem to have any formal training in using your youki."

She idly wondered if Sam had ever encountered and Awakened before. Nasty little things, those were (to her). "There are two things that commonly cause an awakening. The first is by overexerting yourself with your powers, desperately wanting to defeat your opponent, throwing your own self-preservation to the wind. Sometimes that is a conscious decision, but usually it is a miscalculation on where your limits are." She still couldn't decide if Priscilla awakened because she miscalculated or id she wanted Teresa's head so badly that she awakened in order to claim it.

"The second is through extreme emotion. That one is far more dangerous than the first as usually, the first gives you enough warning to stave it off long enough for another to take your head." She paused and met Sam's eyes. "There is nothing worse than awakening."

For a moment, Sam didn't say anything. There'd been Jake and Ava and Max, and while Max was a clearer case in that he'd obviously been pushed in ways that had nothing to do with the supernatural—Jake. Jake was a question mark, wasn't he? Because Jake had seemed like a pretty nice guy one second and the next he was putting a gun to Ellen's head.

Switches, Jake had called it. Jake and Ava both. Sam hadn't ever experienced it for himself, hadn't ever wanted to, but he couldn't forget, either, that way back from the start, when he'd been trapped and he'd thought Dean was going to die—there'd been something there. That it probably wasn't the exact same as what Teresa was referring to was beside the point; the fundamental concept was there.

"I'll remember that, then," he replied. "Anyway, I." He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, stopped just short of clearing his throat. "I shouldn't be taking up any more of your time. Thanks for talking to me, though."

"You are welcome to talk to me anytime you wish," Teresa replied. A faint smile touched her lips. "I admit, I find you somewhat fascinating and a far better conversationalist than you were yesterday,"

A pause. "Don't be a stranger."

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Day 46: Sun Room

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