NIGHTSHIFT 26: M81-M90 HALLWAY

[ol_canucklehead]

From here

Logan stepped into the hallway. He was sure that Parker would be fine by himself. There was no time to wait around, he had a rendezvous to keep. Moving swiftly, silently, he all but tore down the hallway.

Comments

Outside M89

[thehellismycar]

... He totally missed the entire shift back there.

The huntsman had noticed belatedly, as he sauntered toward M38, that Sam hadn't bothered with the essentials and had forgotten to tell him his room number. Rolling his eyes, Dean had retraced his steps despite the nurse's yabbering and left the bulletin note for his brain-dead brother. Sitting cheerlessly (the sudden energy boost suggesting he'd taken a short nap, in the mean time) while awaiting a response, it seemed the duration of dinner was spent there. Ultimately receiving a reply, he was being ushered into his room when the Institute's lights flicked off and the intercom crackled to life. A bit eerie, considering he'd only just closed the door

Re: Outside M89

[neverreallyfit]

By the time the knock sounded upon the door, Sam had memorized the dimensions of the room, though the measurements were taken in paces rather than feet or inches. Patience had been all but impossible to summon, and it was by sheer force of will that he had managed to consign to the realm of illusion the sensation of time simultaneously stretching seconds into endless hours, and compressing so that the night would be out within a few heartbeats. He craved action, or at least some line to chase down that might lead to a solid explanation

Re: Outside M89

[thehellismycar]

Dean grimaced, narrowing his eyes and gaze flickering thoughtfully to the side.

"No." He glanced back up at his brother, a nonchalant hand on his hip as he sighed. "But, wouldn't hurt to check things out, give the place a once-over, if possible. Think the monsters're bad? Well," the man tapped his flashlight on his forehead and then pointed it to Sam, "That ain't the half of it. This show's got a time limit. I say we go upstairs," he concluded, nodding more to himself. "Otherwise we could scout for a way south, to that basement I keep hearin' about, and, uh..." Smirking, he tilted his head. "Fall into a trap."

Re: Outside M89

[neverreallyfit]

"If this place is as bad as you say it is, it sounds like the whole place'll be a trap," Sam replied dryly. One hand rose to rake through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes, nerves and irritation expressed through pointless motion. "How long do we have?" he asked, expression pulling into a frown, gone slightly distant with his typical concentration. "Or do they just decide to call game over whenever they feel like it?" The beam of his flashlight jagged along the floor as he rolled the neck of it in his hand, idly shifting the positioning of it until the weighting felt most natural.

Re: Outside M89

[thehellismycar]

The elder brother shook his head

Re: Outside M89

[neverreallyfit]

Sam frowned, blinking twice rapidly, the only outward sign of surprise. He glanced back over his shoulder at the opening into the room he'd just exited, then reached back with the hand not occupied by the flashlight and tugged the door shut behind him. Closing the door, on some level, on the possibility of remaining passive rather than striking out in search of - something. Answers, certainly, but a confrontation that could be won would not go amiss.

"Been sitting around all day," he replied, a faint, undefinable edge creeping into his voice despite that he was agreeing that there was little to be gained by holing up and talking. "I don't suppose there's anywhere we can find weapons around here?" He didn't sound hopeful, more as though he felt that the question simply needed to be asked, that he would be being lax if he did not make certain rather than just assuming the lack of armaments he'd seen meant there were none to be found.

Re: Outside M89

[thehellismycar]

What came to mind first and foremost was the gun in Reno's possession. Or wait, Elena's. Dean hungered for the feel of pearl grips. He was inclined to steal the weapon from her, but that'd be like taking candy from a baby. And that baby would cry.

He rubbed a hand on his temple.

"Nope, though there was gossip about there being one in the Morgue yesterday. Doubt it's there now." The man clicked his tongue. "Whatever, let's just move. Likely we'll run into a distressed patient or two."

With that, he flipped the torch in his hand before switching it on. It was in the seconds to follow, where he aggressively shook the thing, that brought on realisation the batteries were dead.

"Crap. OK, guess you're in the lead," he mumbled, slipping the flashlight in one of his deep coat pockets instead of the ulterior desire to throw it on the floor.

Re: Outside M89

[neverreallyfit]

"The morgue?" Sam's eyebrows rose in an expression of disbelief, though even without any visual cue the emotion was written clearly enough into his tone. It was certainly a peculiar choice of places to stash a weapon, though at the same time, it made a certain amount of sense.

Then again, he wasn't entirely sure that an assumption that the morgue saw little enough traffic for something to go unnoticed would be entirely accurate.

One hand dipped to rummage in the pockets of his own coat until it closed around the spare set of batteries he'd stashed the night before. Two light sources, by his thinking, were better than one, and there was no guarantee they wouldn't become separated besides. He offered the batteries over with one hand, the other flicking the beam of his own flashlight more thoroughly along the hall in preparation for departure. "Here."

Re: Outside M89

[thehellismycar]

"Yeah, what? Somethin' about that bother you? Course they'd have a morgue. People're supposed to die horrible deaths in here."

Dean rolled his eyes when the batteries were offered to him, clearly daring the other to forward a comment. Something nagged for his attention as he swiftly popped in the spares, the beam of his revived flashlight illuminating a particular wound on his brother.

"Dude," he swiped Sam's arm up by the wrist, a troubled stare on the scarring he definitely didn't recall the younger man receiving. Not on his watch. "What the hell? I mean, I've said you shouldn't torture yourself, but..." Yeah, that was weak, even he could admit that.

Re: Outside M89

[neverreallyfit]

"The morgue doesn't surprise me," Sam replied dryly, a touch of familiar irritation colouring his tone. "Just seems like a weird place for a scavenger hunt." Not that anything about this place seemed particularly normal, even if one were judging by the standards of the things he was accustomed to.

His entire frame stiffened as his wrist was snatched up, baring further the circle of marred flesh. His brow drew down into a scowl of frustration that was undermined, if only slightly, by a peculiar current of guilt. He did not quite look at his brother, gaze fixing just to the left as he replied, "Meg. Happened after your time, I guess." As explanations went, it was not perhaps the most enlightening, especially given that the events surrounding the woman's death, at least, had occurred before the divergence in their memories. But the evasion, coupled with the stubborn set of Sam's jaw, warned at his reluctance to give anything further.