Day 55: Courtyard [2nd Shift]

[sheepwood]

After what seemed like an eternity of being amused, irritable, bored, in pain, in excruciating pain, and any combination of those, Guybrush was met by the same soldier who had led him to the cafeteria. He wasn't offered a trip to the Sun Room to check the bulletin board, but didn't push for it anyway. That would have been more walking, and moving

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[corvus_veritas]

And again, Byrne was perplexed and upset by his friend's denial, more so than before thanks to being told he couldn't be himself. Badd really was hallucinating, wasn't he? Or on drugs or not right in the head or, or something. If he kept this up maybe the soldiers would get suspicious with the way he was acting and come bother the two of them. ...On second thought, no. Those sick bastards wouldn't do anything because they knew better. They knew exactly why he was acting like this, didn't they? Oh, they knew, they had to know, because they had done something to Badd and Byrne was thoroughly convinced of that. He wasn't sure exactly what that 'something' was, but it was obviously enough to cause his partner to become uncharacteristically terrified at the sight of someone he otherwise would be comfortable with.

"Don't say that." He continued to move forward, keeping his eyes locked on Badd's as he walked. "Of course it's me. Why are you acting like this?" And without considering whether it was a good idea or not, he reached forward and grabbed ahold of Badd's wrist. It was an effort to get the man to calm down, to make him realize that Byrne was standing right here in front of him and yes it was really him and no one else.

[tasteoftruth]

Badd reflexively slapped the phantom's hand away and took two quick, shuffling steps to the side. His free hand made a clenching gesture at where he used to keep his gun and mirror. If he'd still had the gun he'd have pulled it, if he'd had the mirror he'd probably have tried to beat not-Byrne to not-death with it.

Oh god, he'd touched it. For a bare moment Badd had felt cold skin under his touch (corpse-cold, he thought, ignoring that the weather would chill anyone's skin). It wasn't just an optical illusion or a projection, like Little Thief's startlingly realistic holograms, it was an actual person real in front of him. The number of acceptable scientific explanations kept dwindling.

"You can't be him," Badd repeated emphatically, if only to convince himself. "Byrne's been dead for years." He would not fall to this. He would not let himself be tricked by a familiar face. He would not...as much as he wanted to find Byrne alive again as if the past seven years had been a feverish nightmare he could not let himself be swayed.

[corvus_veritas]

At first, Byrne jolted back at the physical rejection, eyes growing a little wider at how he'd been pushed away like that. So, uh. Maybe physical contact wasn't the best idea after all. In retrospect, he could've been walking away with a broken arm rather than a little slap to the wrist; god knows how much stronger Badd was compared to him, and he shouldn't have been so quick to test that. Then the detective spoke up, and after yet another round of 'blargh you don't exist', Byrne became slightly relieved to finally get an answer to that question of 'why was Badd acting like a loony'. The answer, however, was one he hadn't expected to hear.

"Dead?!" Byrne was almost laughing in disbelief. So he thought he was dead? And not just simply dead - dead for years! That's why he was acting like this? Out of all the things they could've done to his head, they just went and made him think Byrne was dead. And what was the purpose of that, really? To make the Yatagarasu members suffer while they were cooped up here? They were sure doing a fantastic job as far as Badd's sanity and Byrne's patience were concerned. But was that really their only motive behind this?

Well, great. No matter why they did it, Byrne would still have to convince him that he existed. He knew the man well enough to know this would not be fun. At all. So he started out slow, and spoke in as calm and friendly of a tone as he could. "Badd, I don't know what these people did to you, but I'm right here. I'm not dead, see?" He waved his hands at Badd, trying to put on a reassuring smile. "You're hallucinating or--or something, I don't know, but c'mon! Snap out of it!"

[tasteoftruth]

"Whatever kind of trick this is, I'm not falling for it. I went through too much for him to let you use his face to mess with me," Badd said through gritted teeth. He wouldn't dishonor Byrne's memory by denying reality.

It had him right down to the mannerisms, things that Badd had actually forgotten about over the span of seven years. It was achingly familiar, and all the more disturbing because of it. Plastic surgery was one thing but nobody could imitate the little details of a man's wording and gesture so perfectly that someone who'd known him nearly two decades couldn't find the hoax.

You're insane, whispered his mind, cutting to the point and making him bleed in the process. It's only logical. You've cracked under the strain. You're seeing ghosts. And you want to see ghosts, that's the worst part, you want this to be real. It's the only reason you're still talking to it.

Badd's piercing eyes flicked to the patients chatting behind the phantom, to the stern and apathetic guards, and (against his will) down to the ground in the hope that he would see holographic boots that didn't touch the ground. Nobody else seemed to acknowledge its presence, but the phantom's feet were definitely crushing the grass. Fear embraced Badd anew as he was forced to acknowledge that he was losing the only truly strong thing left to him--his mind.

"You aren't real," he insisted again, and this time it was almost a heartfelt plea.

[corvus_veritas]

... Sigh. Yep. Once again, this convincing thing? Not fun. Was not fun, was never going to be fun. Ever. If only Byrne had an instant 'believe me!' button...

"No Badd, I am real. Just work with me, okay?" Despite feeling a bit frustrated already, he kept a friendly smile on his face and made himself look as supporting and approachable as possible. "Now, obviously you're forgetting a lot of things, so calm down and try to remember what happened before you came here. It's September of 2011 - at least, I think it's still September, but even I know it's not this damn cold in September." He laughed. "I'm not so sure anymore thanks to whatever those assholes might've done when they kidnapped us. But anyway..."

...And then Byrne fell silent. A thought occurred to him at that moment, a terrible thought that caused him to turn almost as pale as Badd. The last day he remembered being home, during that trial... Kay had been there in the audience with Badd, who'd agreed to watch her while Byrne did his job. And up until now Byrne had simply assumed that, as he was being held prisoner here, Badd was still faithfully watching over Kay while her father was absent. Why should he assume anything else? Until now, Byrne felt no need to worry about his daughter's whereabouts since he knew she was still under Badd's watch and therefore would be safe.

But Badd was here.

If Badd was here, where was Kay?

"B-Badd?" Oh god, oh god. An ocean of worst case scenarios filled Byrne's head, from Kay wandering Los Angeles all by herself to her also being here - ohhhh god. There was no way in hell he was not addressing this. "Okay, seriously. I need you to remember. When they took you and brought you here, where was Kay? What happened to her?" Oh god, please let him remember. If she were alone, if she were in someone else's care, if these filthy kidnapping scoundrels dared to lay a finger on his daughter--!!

[tasteoftruth]

You'd have to have known Badd for years to know his little tics, the way he exposed thoughts in the twitch of a eyebrow that on another person would have been said with the entire face and exaggerated body language. Byrne would be one of the few who might notice the way Badd's eyes flicked upward and sideways to the climbing ivy, and up the ivy to the top of the wall, without turning his head so much as a half-inch.

"She's...gone," he said quietly, guarding the information on the barest hope that the phantom might still be an agent of the institute. "She's safe. They never brought her back in the morning." He didn't mention his part in her escape, but even if they tried to torture it out of him they'd find nothing. He only knew the vagueries of her plans and they were sure to have changed once she left the institute.

No news was great news. With their emphasis on public humiliation and ostracization, Badd didn't see Aguilar as the type to shoot an escaping prisoner and let them rot. It would be a public execution, or at least a display of the offender's corpse to make sure they all got the right idea.

[corvus_veritas]

Byrne was indeed one of the few people who knew Badd well, thanks to the pair's strong friendship and the number of years they'd known each other. It was why he was quick to notice the slight gesture, why he took his words seriously when he should've considered the detective's earlier outbursts and been suspicious. As he put two and two together, Byrne began to look like he'd literally faint any second - and for good reason, in his eyes.

He was not an idiot. He knew exactly what his friend was implying and he didn't like it one bit, not when it was possible Kay was in grave danger here or somewhere near here. She was 'gone' - where? She was 'safe' - how did he know that? And they 'never brought her back' - brought her back here? She was here? Anyone with a level head might've guessed Badd was simply spewing more crazed nonsense, but to Byrne, who cared about staying cool when it was possible your daughter's life was in jeopardy somewhere?!

"Y-you mean she was here?!" he gasped loudly as he took a few rapid steps forward, no longer caring about appearing as supportive and friendly as possible. "What did they--how did they--w-when?!" And why?! Why would they abduct an innocent ten year old girl? What would they have tried to do to her? Where was she now? The parental paranoia flooded Byrne's veins and made him forget any amount of common sense for the time being. Above anything else, he needed to know. That was all that mattered right now.

[tasteoftruth]

It was reflex, to answer Byrne's questions. It was what he always did and Badd found himself explaining his cryptic comment to the man that wasn't there. "I don't know why she was here, she was here three days before I was. But she's out of here now, they won't be able to--" Badd. You're telling it things. It's not Byrne. A hallucination can't feel grief.

Badd metaphorically bit his tongue and took another sideways step away. He pointed firmly at the phantom. "You are in my head," he said, as if accusing a suspect. "You're some drugged up hallucination and I don't have to pay attention to you. So...buzz off!" He waved it away, but didn't dare touch it for fear that he might find it solid again.

[corvus_veritas]

From all of this worrying, Byrne was close to curling up into fetal position and sobbing like a baby. He probably would have been doing that, anyway, if a particular statement of Badd's hadn't have grabbed his attention first. Three days. She'd been here three days ago, he said. It was a curious impossibility that made Byrne raise an eyebrow. ...Well, it was impossible if Byrne kept assuming today was September 12, 2011. However, if he'd been out cold for several days after being kidnapped, who was he to know what date it was now?

It didn't help that Badd was clearly off his rocker and everything he'd been saying otherwise was utter nonsense. Just look at him acting unnaturally, being terrified of everything and...great, and now blowing his best friend off as an illusion. Again. Thanks Badd, you're such a pal.

"Hold it!" Byrne snapped, "We're not done yet!" Just for added emphasis, he whipped out the ol' trusty pointer finger and directed it at the detective's face the moment he cried hold it! That should certainly get his attention. "Alright. First of all, explain. How could Kay've been here for three days or more? She was at the courthouse two days ago, just before they kidnapped me and brought me here. Trust me, I would know if she had gone missing anytime before that. And second of all, do you need me to grab you and shake you to prove I'm real? I'll damn well do it if you keep this up any longer!"

He paused, lowering the pointer finger as he gave Badd a frustrated stare. Then he shook his head and let out a long sigh. "I don't know what they did to you, but they sure as hell screwed you over one way or another, Badd."

[tasteoftruth]

Badd flinched and hit the wall when the familiar finger snapped out at him.

"They didn't kidnap you, they murdered..." He literally had to bite his lip to keep himself from continuing. If it shook him, it was only because Badd's mind made him think it was real and the rest of the crowd would just see a crazy old man arguing and flailing against himself. As much as it it hurt to resist he couldn't let himself be consumed by fantasy.

If it was September 2011, if it was that day all over again he'd have a thousand things to say to Byrne before they entered the courtroom, things he'd obsessed over wanting to say for years. The temptation was near irresistible to drop sanity just for a few moments, beg Byrne for forgiveness, and then go right back to being a calm, collected island. Would it even matter? Would anyone know if he took a moment of weakness?

The soldiers were calling them for lunch. Badd stepped towards the door with an expression like a scared child. His jaw worked for a few moments, as if he was desperately trying to find something to say. So much to say...

He's not real.

Badd's nails pressed against the inside of his palms. He steeled himself to turn away and fled into the comforting warmth and monotony of Landel's Institute. Maybe they'd be starved again. He wasn't sure he could keep so much as a sugarcube down.