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

[scalyfishman.livejournal.com]

Ranking Decepticon officer... I can do anything... collaborate with others... Depth Charge let the words wash back over him in waves, random collections of sounds and syllables- it was easier than trying to get his head around just what Lugnut was implying, anyway.

On their first night... suggesting that you'd avoid kicking the opposition's skidplate if you could wasn't extraordinary by any means, not for most people, but coming from Lugnut it had been almost revolutionary. The guy was president of Megatron's fanclub, for Primus' sake, so to have some kind of truce in the first place? Now that had been crazy. Even then he hadn't been sure how much of it he'd swallowed.

And now, over a week later, someone had jacked up the volume on it.

Depth Charge frowned, as though the silence wasn't enough to give away his hesitation. Then, carefully, carefully, he picked his words. "Yeah. I guess there isn't a reason," he answered in his most noncommittal voice, cracking his knuckles idly. "Not like anyone's around to tell you not to." He swallowed, then forced himself to look Lugnut in the eye. "Nothing to stop me, either."

There. He'd said it. And, weirdly enough, he felt a little better for it. Losing your personality core, making deals with 'cons... you're losing your touch, DC. You're losing it big time.

[hailmegatron.livejournal.com]

Lugnut let out a shivering breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding-- not... that he was relieved. It was just a breath, that thing this organic body demanded so constantly, and he met the Maximal's gaze almost-steadily.

"... If you have any plans for escaping this place, I will lend my assistance," Lugnut said, quietly earnest.

[scalyfishman.livejournal.com]

There. Optic-to-op- ah, eye-to-eye contact. Depth Charge let the tension leave his shoulders, glad to have something solid he could recognise in the Decepticon at last rather than another stealth assault. They could play this one straight.

"Back atcha, big guy," he answered, nodding once and trying to ignore how strange it felt to discuss strategy with Lugnut, of all people. "So. You had any illuminations, or do we need to put our processors together?"

[hailmegatron.livejournal.com]

Lugnut could do this. He may have been without a wingmate or a fellow Decepticon or Lord Megatron to guide him, but he had an ally (even if said ally was very nearly an Autobot), and he could do this.

In the familiar tone of reporting to someone, Lugnut answered, "HK-47 has told me he's been working with a pair of humans to explore the basement; they believe the human running this place can be reached, down there, and he has invited me to join them."

[scalyfishman.livejournal.com]

Okay, now that was weird. Suddenly Lugnut was talking to him like he was some kind of equal. Which, he realised slowly, was about right, considering they'd just made a pact.

... hnnh. Something still didn't feel right about that. Well, whatever. Just so long as he reminded himself the alliance was with Lugnut while they were here rather than the entire slagging Decepticon army, he'd be okay. "Oh, he can, can he?" Immediately, Depth Charge leaned in, looking intrigued. "Colour me interested. What's the catch?"

[hailmegatron.livejournal.com]

"That is what they have been told, and I am willing to risk any potential trickery or games from the slagger, if I have even a faint chance of crushing the life from his filthy organic body," Lugnut declared, though he kept his voice low enough to not attract the nurses' attentions. "... Trickery and games are very likely, though, from what I know of him," he added, rather more subdued at the thought of it.

[scalyfishman.livejournal.com]

Just so long as Landel's was the only filthy organic body Lugnut was going to be crushing the life from, Depth Charge certainly wasn't going to object.

"Figures. What would you call all this slag except that?" he said, gesturing loosely around the room with more than just an edge of distaste in his voice. Lugnut didn't exactly seem like the sort to tolerate that sort of thing either- at least they had that in common. "You think four of you will be enough?"