Day 50: Chapel

[full-score.livejournal.com]

The last thing Claude heard was the Head Doctor's voice faintly filtering into the corridors of the ship before he found himself tucked beneath the sheets of his bed. It took a moment to register he'd even changed locations, but then he he abruptly sat up, fought the wave of nausea that washed over him, and felt the blankets beneath his fingers. The room. He was back in his room now. Under different circumstances, he might have wondered if last night had been some horrid dream, but the sharp pain in his eyes gave him a rude awakening. Hissing through his teeth, Claude buried the heels of his palms against his lids, only to discover two cold compresses had been taped over them.

"Good morning, Thomas," he heard the nurse's cheerful voice from beside his bed. Her sudden presence nearly made him jump out of his skin, and he sharply turned toward the source of the greeting, heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well today, but hopefully you can still enjoy some of the activities we have planned."

'Not feeling well' was a bit of an understatement. His hand hurt, his stomach kept turning with every movement, and it felt like someone had dumped a bunch of sand into both eye sockets. Right now, Claude just wanted the nurse to leave him be, but it didn't look like that was an option. Taking his uninjured hand, she gently tugged him out of bed, despite his protests that, no, really, he just wanted to stay in and sleep, please.

"I think getting out of your room a little bit will do you good," she told him. "I'm sorry your eyes are probably hurting, though. If you're ever feeling uncomfortable, don't hesitate to ask one of us for some pills."

"What about eye drops?" Claude asked tightly.

"Oh, no, too much of that could damage your eyes," she cautioned, and the sheer irony of the situation hit Claude so hard that it would have been laughable if he didn't already feel like crying right then. The nurse was as oblivious to it as always, however. "I know you usually go into the chapel during this shift. Would you like to go there again?" Claude didn't answered immediately, but that didn't deter the nurse. "Yes, I think that sounds best..."

In truth, he probably should have requested the sun room -- it was closer, for one, which meant the nurse didn't have to lead him as far of a distance. For another, lying down on one of their sofas sounded like a good option. But by the time Claude came to that conclusion, he was too stubborn to say anything, and he made his way up to the second floor, his footing slow, but steady.

The nurse deposited him on one of the central pews, next to the aisle, before leaving him to himself. Thankfully, it was still early in the shift. As he paused to listen, the room was mostly silent, save for the footsteps and hushed voices of the occasional staff member or patient who trickled in. But it was probably only a matter of time before others came. For some reason, the thought of being stuck in a crowded room made him tense, not necessarily because he thought anyone would pay him any mind, but because he simply didn't want it right then.

Somehow, the full implications of what happened last night hadn't sunken in: experiments, healing himself, the issue of whether he could actually go home after this, not being able to see, the ship, father. Instead, he just felt saturated with all of it, paralyzed by the horror of what they'd done to him, and the uncertainty of what it all meant beyond this moment. Claude took a shuddering breath, uninjured hand balling into a fist in his lap.

[For Guy.]

Comments

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Indy ignored the question about a plan. The best he'd come up with so far was the fire extinguisher thing, and it'd be difficult to put together something more viable with so little information to go on (how fast was that thing? how strong? did it have any obvious weaknesses? etc.). Plans made for this sort of situation fell through so often that Indy figured you might as well just collect as much intelligence as you could and then wing it. Which was good, because it didn't look like they had much of a choice.

Weapons he could answer, though. "A six-foot makeshift whip with a metal clip on the end of it, a two-foot metal pipe, and a machete," he answered honestly, although that last was actually more like a brush axe than a machete. Close enough for his purposes. "And I've got a friend--" another slight stretch there, "--with a gun, if I can convince him it's worth using."

He tried to remember if any of the others he was considering had any useful weapons. The resulting vision of Lunge and Ryuuzaki rushing at a two-headed monster armed only with kitchen knives almost made him wince.

[noifsandsorbubs.livejournal.com]

And here Logan had been expecting a much shorter answer, like 'not really.' The metal pipe wasn't that out there. The machete and the whip (that was just kind of weird - makeshift implied that somebody had had it in mind beforehand) were, but the real kicker was the gun. Whoever was lucky enough to have that had to feel like king of the castle when night rolled around.

"Guessing he doesn't have much ammo," he said. "It might not be worth using, tell you the truth. If somebody who knows what he's doing gets in close with that machete, he'd have a decent chance. One of the kids the other night got a hit in that way. Thing's not gonna fry itself, so you're better off not givin' it room."

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Indy nodded. "Probably only what he could grab where he found it." Dent had the same problem as Sanzo and anyone else with a gun--no way to replace the bullets. Which made guns, for all practical purposes, borderline useless as weapons here. He didn't know how good a shot Dent was, either. Hadn't he grabbed an axe or something last night?

"Anything else we should know?" Indy asked, just in case.

[noifsandsorbubs.livejournal.com]

'We'. So it wasn't just him planning on running in like a big hero with a makeshift whip (whatever that was), Logan surmised; something was really coming together. There were a lot of things to do at night - find Tifa's room, go through the doors he'd meant to go through the night before, or try and find the good storage, where they kept things too dangerous for patients, but this was the best bet. There was a reason that thing had been in the basement, and there was a reason the door was hidden. Crazy guy and his crazy whip or no, nothing else seemed as important. He wanted in.

"Can't think of anything," he shrugged. "When are you goin' down there, tonight?"

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

"That's the plan," Indy answered. "It'll depend on who's ready." Most nights he still considered working alone a plausible option, but this was one instance where he wasn't going without backup. Pilgrim and Peter were definitely in, judging by their responses on the bulletin board, and it'd sounded like Pilgrim might have another person on board as well. He'd have to find out about the others.

He glanced again at Logan, evaluating. That question had sounded like it might be more than idle curiosity. Pilgrim had a good opinion of the guy, and he'd shared information readily enough. That made for the beginnings of a good recommendation, anyway. "Why, want to join?" he asked.

[noifsandsorbubs.livejournal.com]

Logan gave him a sharp look. 'Join' was kind of an official word - you could head the same way as somebody, or end up where they ended up; but join implied something concrete. Join was a commitment you intended to honor.

He might have said yes and left it at that, if he was sure how things would pan out the rest of the day, but he wasn't. He still hadn't talked to Tifa, and as unlikely as it was that she'd be really desperate for the pry bar, he sure as hell wasn't going to give his word now and then have to break it later. Especially since if he said he'd meet up with them, they might wait for him, and every lost second was a ruined opportunity.

"I'm gonna head down there," he said, "no question. But I got somebody to find first. There's only gonna be two of us. We'll catch up." Maybe went unspoken, but it felt just as present. He was learning that anything could happen in the halls at night, and if this guy was right, there was a possibility that there'd be nothing waiting in the basement to slow his group down.

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Indy acknowledged that with a nod. "Fair enough." Things happened at night here; you couldn't always count on being somewhere, even if your intentions were good. "We'll probably be hard to miss," he added a bit ruefully--if things went well, there'd be a bunch of them, and Pilgrim probably made enough noise for three on his own.

He didn't bother to ask whether Logan and his companion thought they were the bringing-the-monster-down types or the resourceful types. Better not to work them into the equation until they actually showed up and proved they were willing to help. "Thanks for the information," was the only other thing he really needed to say.