As L made the turn in the corridor, he kept pace with the other two as well as he could, and engaged in a conscious effort to control his own breathing. There was no reason for panic to claw at him; nothing to fear now that he had already been behind the second door on the left. Nonetheless, his hands curled into tight balls, fingernails pressing into the palms, and he felt nauseated.
No one would fault him if he suffered from an acute stress reaction, but the emotion that rose wasn't terror. Now that they'd drugged him past the point of dignity, pushed a needle into his spine, cut into his head, and left an unwelcome gift as a souvenir of their visit, his response to passing the place where it must have happened was a brief rush of fury.
The involuntary clench of his jaw intensified his headache, so he took another deep breath and tried to relax, still moving towards the door at the other end of the hall. Anger was as normal a response to trauma as fear. Even if that weren't the case, giving reign to his temper was useless: an inefficient, distracting use of time and energy. He could focus on it once he had Landel where he wanted him, and the leisure to decide what to do with him.
"To be honest, I don't think I could tolerate that place tonight." He sounded more nonchalant than he felt. His foot came into contact with a piece of glass, which skittered down the hall and hit the wall with a tinkle. "I would, if it were necessary, but... other goals are more pressing."
They were close to the lab, and had had no trouble at all. Therefore, we will be met there by--what? A three-headed dog? At this point, it wouldn't surprise him.
no subject
As L made the turn in the corridor, he kept pace with the other two as well as he could, and engaged in a conscious effort to control his own breathing. There was no reason for panic to claw at him; nothing to fear now that he had already been behind the second door on the left. Nonetheless, his hands curled into tight balls, fingernails pressing into the palms, and he felt nauseated.
No one would fault him if he suffered from an acute stress reaction, but the emotion that rose wasn't terror. Now that they'd drugged him past the point of dignity, pushed a needle into his spine, cut into his head, and left an unwelcome gift as a souvenir of their visit, his response to passing the place where it must have happened was a brief rush of fury.
The involuntary clench of his jaw intensified his headache, so he took another deep breath and tried to relax, still moving towards the door at the other end of the hall. Anger was as normal a response to trauma as fear. Even if that weren't the case, giving reign to his temper was useless: an inefficient, distracting use of time and energy. He could focus on it once he had Landel where he wanted him, and the leisure to decide what to do with him.
"To be honest, I don't think I could tolerate that place tonight." He sounded more nonchalant than he felt. His foot came into contact with a piece of glass, which skittered down the hall and hit the wall with a tinkle. "I would, if it were necessary, but... other goals are more pressing."
They were close to the lab, and had had no trouble at all. Therefore, we will be met there by--what? A three-headed dog? At this point, it wouldn't surprise him.