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damned_institute2009-12-16 12:12 am
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Entry tags:
- abe sapien,
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- scar (tlk),
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- sechs,
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- shinji,
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- spock,
- sync,
- teisel,
- teresa,
- terry,
- the flash,
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- tim drake,
- tk-622,
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- utena,
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- yue,
- yuffie,
- yuna,
- zack,
- zex
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!]
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!]
no subject
How was it that Zack always ended up in these sorts of situations, he wondered? He got caught up doing side projects no matter how important his main goals were. Maybe he just had a hard time telling people no, especially when they seemed to be generally nice guys who just wanted to lighten up a pretty bleak situation. There was nothing wrong with that, really.
Zack stood up only a second or two after Axel did, grasping the other's hand and grinning back.
"I'll keep an eye out," he agreed with a nod. "Good luck with your end of things." It probably wasn't the most orthodox thing to be wishing an opponent luck, but that was just how Zack was. He waved to the redhead and then went off to meet a nurse.