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]

((From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/827034.html?thread=66524314#t66524314).))

Whatever had been guarding the hallway was still there. That much was obvious. Whether it was engaged in battle with another patient was still unclear, though quite honestly, Spock didn't believe they were in any position to become involved even if that was the case. Dr. McCoy may have thought him heartless for thinking so, but the fact remained that it was his obligation to consider their actions in the most logical manner possible. After all, he wasn't in command of his life alone. McCoy's safety was important as well.

From what Spock had gleaned from the patient-made maps, more supplies were probably contained in the eastern area of the floor. That would take them away from the fighting in this area. Perhaps this was the floor's primary guard, in which case it was possible rats would be their most pressing concern until they managed to find useful items.

After glancing toward McCoy, he faintly inclined his head to their left, as if to indicate that was the direction they should take. He imagined the doctor would not be pleased with their ignoring the guard on this floor and anyone who may have been involved with it, but that discussion was already over and behind them.

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

McCoy wasn't pleased at all, but this time he kept his mouth shut. He was still smarting from Spock actually pulling rank. Spock had always had plenty up his sleeve to effectively end a debate half the time (some of the time, McCoy amended. Spock was usually losing the arguments), some of them pretty good... but he'd rarely ever fallen back on using rank to shut down an argument or debate, maybe because he knew it was the one thing McCoy couldn't contest.

He followed the Vulcan wordlessly, even as he tried to glare holes through the back of his head.