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!]

Comments

[dualistic]

While Harvey could understand perfectly well that there weren't all that many places to sit in a room like this, that didn't defeat the fact that this guy had taken a seat and then glared at him as if Harvey shouldn't be there. Looks like it had been for a different reason, but at this point he didn't really care either way. The guy was doing less glaring and more talking now, which wasn't necessarily better, but...

As far as he was concerned, a trying last few days was more or less everyone's story, but he didn't really care to hear the details. He didn't need someone sobbing on his shoulder (not that this stranger looked like the sort of person to do that, but figuratively speaking). "Yeah, guess they haven't heard of sick days," he said with a shrug.

Now he could tell that the man was really studying him, and Harvey just looked away until the stare didn't feel quite so invasive. He was used to people looking at his face, was used to even standing in front of crowds of people and talking while they all listened and watched, but this was entirely different. People were examining his weaknesses, and he didn't appreciate it.

"Could have been worse," he responded, although at the same time it could have been a lot better. If things had worked out, if he and Jason had actually snared Batman, Harvey might have been on top of the world right now. "Didn't get bit by any of those things in town the other night, so that's one thing." Luckily, neither man knew that the girl Harvey had refused to help that night due to the coin's decision was in fact this man's daughter.

[lawful_perfect]

"Oh, believe me, they have heard of 'sick days.' They just seem to force them on us only when it is least convenient for us," von Karma said, frowning. Bah, a stroke, of all the most pathetic, implausible explanations for a six-day stay in the infirmary, he grumbled to himself. Yet they won't allow me to remain in my room for one whole day just to think.

Used to the same reaction from most other people, von Karma was hardly ruffled as the man averted his gaze from the prosecutor's scrutiny. After all, few people could tolerate it. But unlike the typical weaklings who were unable to bear von Karma's intense eye contact for any period of time, this one seemed to have intrinsic fortitude. Ergo, someone possibly worth his valuable time to learn more about.

For a split second, a feeling quite foreign to him pervaded his awareness as he continued to study the bandaged man. Perhaps he should quit staring so directly. After all, were he the one coerced into making a public appearance in such a visible condition, he, too, would... Blast it! he swore internally as he caught his own thoughts. This was the second time in as many days that he had experienced these strange emotions. What the hell had the Head Lunatic done to him the other night?! Vowing to investigate this at a more suitable time, von Karma filed it away in the back of his mind and returned his full attention back to his seatmate.

He listened to what the man had to say, then nodded. "So you were in Doyleton that night. It seems that all of the patients were trapped there, save for a few -- including myself -- who somehow found themselves back at the Institute. Those vile creatures infiltrated this building, as well. You were fortunate, indeed, to have avoided them." For a moment, he clenched his hand in disgust and anger at the memory of that night. If Mr. Scar dares to tell anyone what really happened...

Before the other could ask whether he had been less fortunate, von Karma quickly changed the subject. He glanced around to ensure that no one he knew was eavesdropping. "By the way, I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Manfred von Karma." He extended his right hand in a cursory gesture of formality. "Your name, please?"

[dualistic]

That was an interesting tidbit that Harvey hadn't come across before. From the sounds of it, this man had been forced to stay in his room at one point. That had never been the case for Harvey, but he was glad for it. While he definitely had his share of moments where he would rather be by himself than dealing with all of the clueless people in the institute, he wouldn't get nearly as much done if he didn't bear through some of the pointless shifts.

Just like he was talking with this man while he waited for lunch, when he could really get down to business.

Before he got the chance to question the man further about his sick days, he started talking about the night at Doyleton. For a moment Harvey was going to be bitter over the fact that the stranger had somehow dodged that insanity, but then it turned out that the undead had been around even on the institute grounds. It was hardly an encouraging piece of information, especially when he started to wonder about where all of those bodies had come from.

Then it got around to introductions. The guy's bad mood seemed to have simmered down at least somewhat, so after a moment of deliberation Harvey grasped Manfred's hand. What the hell kind of name was that? It was a good thing Harvey was used to going by last names. "Harvey Dent," he replied, leaving it at that. It wasn't as if this was a pleasure, after all. "And are you saying you managed to get bitten?"

It was a good thing he'd avoided that. He already looked enough like the damn things -- it didn't need to get any worse because of some infection.

[lawful_perfect]

"Mr. Dent," von Karma nodded as he gave his seatmate's hand a firm, businesslike shake before releasing it. He was about to go through the customary motion of declaring this a "pleasure" when Mr. Dent asked him the last question he cared to answer right now. Blast it!

Still, as the older man strove to conceal his dismay, he had to admit to himself that this Mr. Dent wasn't merely an ordinary patient with the intelligence to match. Something about how the man queried him was reminiscent of his days in the courtroom. von Karma couldn't quite put his finger on it just yet, but until he was certain of just who this man was, he would have to exercise more caution around him.

After a moment of quiet deliberation, von Karma responded in a calm and steady voice, his face betraying no emotion as he looked straight at Mr. Dent. "No, I avoided their attacks, thankfully. The one accompanying me that night was less fortunate. However, aside from a nasty wound, he seemed to have suffered from none of the alleged ill effects mentioned on the board. It all sounded like poppycock to me, anyway," he scoffed. "Have you happened to encounter anyone who actually has suffered from those effects?"

[dualistic]

It was good to know that Harvey didn't have to ditch his current seatmate due to wanting to stay, well, properly alive. Much like von Karma, he didn't know what to think about all of that buzz that had gone around regarding some sort of infection from the zombie bites. It just seemed too ridiculous and sensational, but the fact that those things had attacked them in the first place was its own answer, in a way. If the things themselves existed, why shouldn't their bites be infectious?

When the man asked if Harvey had actually encountered anyone who was sick from those monsters, he gave a vehement shake of his head. "Nothing like that," he quickly said. "No one I was with even got bitten." Franziska had gotten scratches down her back, but she'd seemed more or less recovered when he'd run into the girl yesterday. Not that she seemed the sort to show any signs of pain even if she was feeling it. "A girl I was with got scratched by one, but if I'm up on my horror movie knowledge" -- which he wasn't, really, but this was basic enough -- "then I think only the bites spread infection."

"Let's just hope I don't have to test that theory," he said with an irritated exhale as he leaned back into the couch and crossed his arms over his chest.