Night 47: Main Hallway, 2-Center

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[from here]

It was times like this he had to wonder if he was the only damn person in this place who still cared about finding the fastest way home possible. Which probably wasn't true, but hell. Seeing as the only people he'd worked with so far had 'stealing books' as a goal or were setting up training nights, it was no damn wonder he was feeling more than a little pissed off about the whole thing.

But really, what it all boiled down to, everything that had been bothering him so far, was one simple fact. Raphael was homesick. He knew it too, would have been an idiot not to. He missed the city, the rumble of the subway felt distantly through the walls of their home, sneaking out for late night training sessions with his brothers where they ran across the rooftops playing tag or follow the leader. He missed the nights they'd spend drinking cocoa at April's place, talking all about the things they'd seen and done. But most of all he missed his family. He missed how Leo always had a plan of action and Donny had the tools for the job, while Mikey could keep things light and not too serious. Hell, he even missed Mikey's jokes and how often he talked about that stupid Battle Nexus trophy he'd won. But he didn't know where his brothers were or if they were even alive at all, if they'd been brought here as well and turned into something they weren't or if Karai had destroyed his family as well as his home.

It was the not knowing that hurt the worst, and Raphael had never been good at dealing with that kind of frustration. It made him want to find something, anything really, and just hit it. And keep on hitting it until things started making sense again or he came up with a way to actually leave this place or something.

And somehow he didn't think this little training session was going to help much there.

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[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

The doctor's silence suggested that he had no further reservations regarding their avoiding the conflict. Considering that they had no time to further debate the issue, that was for the best -- otherwise, they would simply put themselves into more danger. With that settled, Spock quickened his pace and moved across the hall with the intent of safely making it to the pharmacy.

Once McCoy's flashlight settled on the correct placard, the First Officer slowed down and allowed McCoy to try the handle. Although the apparent lock was inconvenient, this wasn't the first time Spock had seen this sort of situation in the institute. If anything, the security measures placed upon some of the rooms here were flimsy at best, almost as if they were nothing more than an outward show of keeping patients out. The doctor's office he had entered with Venom and Alkaid had been enforced in such a way; therefore, it was possible the pharmacy was the same.

He briefly reached out for the handle, testing it himself. When it didn't budge, Spock glanced toward McCoy. "We may be able to force it open. Since my strength is not at full capacity, however, I shall require your assistance."

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McCoy had plenty of reservations about the issue, namely that logical or not, it was inhuman to just leave those people to their fate. The doctor was holding his tongue, and just barely. They had no guarantee that they'd retreat, or even if they did, they wouldn't get followed.

Spock was stubbornly sticking to logic only. That incident on Taurus II had proved that you just couldn't predict events and people's actions (especially emotional beings) by logic alone. Spock didn't know what they'd do any more than he did.

"Fine, on the count of three," McCoy said tightly. They'd have to bodily slam it. It was a lot safer than the alternative. McCoy wasn't about ready to go treating some broken ankles just because someone thought they could kick a door down in light shoes. The door would open on the first blow or two if there was any luck to the universe. If it didn't, he was going to be sporting a number of bruises the next day. Knowing Spock, he'd walk off just fine. He had his Vulcan constitution to thank for that, the very same that allowed him to coldly make that decision to leave those patients.

The doctor glanced back the way they came despite himself. It was muffled by the hallway, but was someone pleading with that thing?

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

It would be ideal if the door opened quickly, though Spock knew they couldn't assume such an outcome simply because it was convenient. However, he'd had enough experience with the institute to realize that they had some chance of breaking into the room. Since McCoy was willing to offer his help, perhaps it would not take them long at all.

He sensed the doctor looking over his shoulder, though Spock kept his focus on the door in front of them, and by extension the task at hand. McCoy seemed displeased with the decision to stay out of the conflict that was raging nearby. Surely even he understood the logic behind their current course of action. Consequently, there was no use in dwelling on what was behind them. Spock did not wish to leave civilians in any unnecessary danger, no, but they'd already established that their help would be useless to them. Right now searching for supplies needed to be their main priority.

"Very well," he spoke evenly, trusting that his words would draw McCoy's attention to where it needed to be right then. "One...two...three."

Spock's mouth faintly tightened as he threw his shoulder at the door. It wasn't the cleanest way to make an entrance, but it was the only option available to them, given the circumstances.

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

McCoy looked back, just in time to prepare himself for that countdown. He threw himself bodily at the door along with Spock, their bodies hitting it with a loud thud. The door shuddered but didn't give just yet. McCoy would have been surprised if it had. They weren't exactly the best battering ram material, where they? Spock probably could've forced it open normally, but he'd mentioned something about his strength not being at full capacity.

As partners went, the doctor wasn't exactly the best for knocking a door down himself. Any member of Security likely could, but he was just a doctor. McCoy wasn't out of shape, but he wasn't exactly packed down with weight either.

He supposed the only good thing about this was that he didn't have to worry about embarrassing himself in front of Spock. The doctor looked to Spock, this time counting down before he threw himself once again at the door.

The door suddenly gave way under them.

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