Night 58: Main Hallway, 1-West
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Sesshoumaru had not been in the building for nearly long enough to really know it, and his knowledge had not been expanded yesterday as it might otherwise have been, because of the poisons that had been fed into his system - poisons that somehow worked, which had been a disconcerting and unpleasant experience. In the end, though, all ( Read more... )
Sesshoumaru had not been in the building for nearly long enough to really know it, and his knowledge had not been expanded yesterday as it might otherwise have been, because of the poisons that had been fed into his system - poisons that somehow worked, which had been a disconcerting and unpleasant experience. In the end, though, all ( Read more... )
Clearly, not to go out into it. A conclusion that yours truly had been smart enough to stick by until he...wasn't. It was just, he'd thought about what Venom had said, right, and Venom wasn't wrong, he couldn't stay in his room forever. Or, maybe that wasn't the best way to put it since even if he'd tried his absolute damnedest, he'd, you know, obviously die of old age at least, and someone would obviously...move the body...
Anyway, the other smart thing was to make use of the buddy system, which Harry also wasn't doing. Yet. He was gonna, all right? He had to find someone first. There wasn't exactly a, a goddamn signup sheet posted on the bulletin board, like, hey, if you need someone to die a bloody death with you, please put down your name and room number here.
And that was the brief story of how Harry Lockhart wound up in the hallway, nervously shining his flashlight through the darkness. This was the epitome of bad life decisions. This was to bad life decisions as OJ was to-
Christ, there was a guy in a toga. Harry was pretty sure there wasn't a midnight toga party for the mentally unstable (slash pseudo soldiers...?) happening at the moment.
Truth be told, he didn't think when he tried to flag the guy down. All he knew was that it felt like something could be wrong and that meant he should check out what it was.
"Hey!" He quickened his steps to catch up. "Hey you-in the Julius Caesar getup."
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The voice was unfamiliar. He could have kept walking, but he heard the sound of footsteps closing in behind him and he certainly wasn't in any shape to outrun them. Might as well see what the guy wanted.
Indy turned (slowly, taking it easy) and saw a man a few years younger and a few inches shorter than himself, with a face that looked vaguely familiar (someone who'd been here a while? No one he remembered having seen recently, though). The only thing he was carrying that Indy could see was a flashlight, which suggested that he was a newer patient, but that was about all Indy could tell at a glance.
"Yeah?" he asked, waiting patiently for the punchline.
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Wow.
Okay.
Wow.
Fuck. No way. No-
Holy Jesus, he was tripping out. They'd put some weird shit in the food and now he was tripping out and maybe it was because he missed L.A., you know, what with the stars and the failed actresses and the girls with fake tits and...dead bodies, too, but that was just that one Christmas.
Harry scrubbed at his eyes, but when he opened them again, he was still looking at-
Yeah. Still looking at him. So there he was, staring for a good five minutes because, seriously, what the hell were you supposed to say? His brain ran through everything from are you a clone? to can you sign my flashlight? and he could hear Perry calling him a dumbass for each one.
He swallowed. Easiest solution: act like nothing was wrong.
(Did he say easy? Sorry, he meant ridiculously hard.)
"Um. You were..." He gestured feebly. "I thought maybe you could use a hand, you look like you've had a rough night. Which, I mean, seeing how it barely started, like, ten minutes ago..."
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"It was last night, actually," Indy said. "It's a long story." Understatements didn't come much bigger than that one. He thought he'd hold off on explaining that he'd been dead (although come to think of it, he'd heard claims that wasn't uncommon around here) and get the other bombshell over with first.
He shifted his weight and extended his right hand, which luckily was one of the few parts of him that was largely intact. "Dr. Indiana Jones. Where were you headed? I don't want to hold you up if you're in a hurry to get somewhere."
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Okay, this was absolutely goddamn crazy. Which, as it turned out, was something of an advantage, actually, because his brain decided to work out a logic that wasn't really logical at all, but let him accept that this was happening, so that was, you know. All that mattered. Do not ask him how he managed, he just did.
(Harrison Ford's whacked out younger twin who thought he was fucking Indiana Jones, what the hell. Well, not literally fucking, 'cause that would be...well, maybe, but-that came out wrong, anyway.)
"Oh, I-Harry." He shook his hand and didn't feel it. "Harry Lockhart. I'm not, I'm not going anywhere, really. God, are you okay, I mean, you should get back to your room or something."
Should he apologize? For the, the being...weird, but that would mean acknowledging something was up, explaining why, and. No, okay, forget it. If, uh, if (he couldn't say the name) was down with not bringing it up, Harry was down with it, too. Totally down. All the way into the rabbit hole.
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Getting back to his room would be the smart thing to do, but just as he was about to say he could manage that on his own, another option occurred to him: the medical wing. They'd opened it recently. Harry, unarmed and sounding pretty scatterbrained, wouldn't make much of an escort, but at least the two of them together could probably make it over there--look around, see if the wing had anything he could use to treat himself at night. He didn't like admitting it, but painkillers would be a good start, if he could find something that wouldn't slow him down too much.
"Actually, if you're serious about that hand, there's somewhere I'd rather go. There's a medical wing at the other end of this hall." Indy gestured with his bandaged hand to his bandaged chest. "If you'd rather not, I'd understand, but if you're up for it I could use some company."
It meant more time wandering around in a toga, but he had no way of knowing how much time he might've lost while he was out. He didn't want to lose any more if he could help it.
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He was probably wrong. Re: the medical wing thing...bit. He didn't know how long (Indiana? Dr. Jones? Jesus, flip a coin for him, would you) had been around, but Harry was new and when you were the new kid, you pretty much assumed that everyone else knew more than you did.
"No, I don't mind," he said, and started walking. "I've sort of been opting out of this whole nighttime excursions deal, so I thought, you know, had to start sometime." He paused and shined his flashlight down towards one end of the hall. Man, what was with the Silent Hill vibe. You'd think if they could afford to kidnap a couple hundred people, they could afford to keep the damn building lit overnight. Screw that Earth Day shit, there were potentially stubbed toes at stake here.
"So, other end being this end?"
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