Day 32: Lunch

[damnrudecock]

Sanosuke hadn't quite been ready to part ways from Kenshin, but his nurse was insistent, and she was offering food. That second thing was what really got Sano off the couch and headed to the cafeteria. And at the very least, the thing about Okita had been settled, which meant the fighter could focus on his meal

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[whohitreset]

To Matt's credit, he sat through the entirety of Mello's explanation with a straight face. Granted, it might have been a bit too straight, and it didn't really change until a few moments after the blond had finished speaking.

"Or..." the other man finally muttered, "I haven't actually woken up yet, and whatever gas they have me on is giving me loopy dreams about crazy supernatural hospitals." Because Mello wouldn't say anything like that unless he actually meant it. "Or they've got you on something that's messing with your head."

And yet it felt too awfully real to be a dream. Too many of his senses were affected, and it ran in a linear fashion without changing scenarios every few moments like his dreams normally did. Then the second option... no, that wasn't right. Not with how Mello was acting otherwise. It was even less believable than the first in a way.

He made an indecipherable noise and covered his face with both hands. Not possible. Not possible. He'd proved the whole deal with the book that killed people, but this? New Jersey? "The hell, Mello?" His voice was muffled. "What the hell."

[cnflctofintrst]

Mello groaned. This probably was the type of thing Matt dreamed about: chasing monsters down dark hallways in abandoned mental institutes. All he needed was a health bar and a bottomless item bag.

"If I was going to hallucinate I'd come up with something a little less cliche than this shit," he snapped, glaring again. As unlikely as the institute seemed, he'd only questioned his sanity briefly before introspection reminded him that he sure as hell wasn't weak enough to be manipulated by the type of person who would create something so juvenile-horror-novelesque. His outburst of anger was gone as soon as it appeared, and he yawned as he folded his arms behind his head.

"What the hell," he said with a nod. "I know. But we can't reject evidence because its improbable. I've spent two days gathering info about this place, and I'm telling you, that's how it is. Being wrong isn't my style."

Aside from the whole 'getting you killed' thing.

[whohitreset]

The heels of Matt's hands had moved up to dig into his eyes. How had he gotten involved in this, anyway? These weren't the sorts of twists and turns he'd expected after he'd started life in Wammy's. He had expected a life in espionage... or at least professional stalking.

There were monsters here. Dead people. Other worlds and times. Dead... "You got us both killed, didn't you?" he started quietly. "You got us both killed, and whatever crazy shit was involved with that fucking book dragged us both here, right??" He should have known. He should have known. You didn't mess with the supernatural like that and expect to come out unscathed.

And there was no chocolate for Mello. The man had taken to chewing on his nails, of which there wasn't much left now that he got a better look. So chances of him getting a cigarette or three were probably next to nil. And his games... "Fuck, Mello. FUCK."

[cnflctofintrst]

"I did not get both of us killed," he said, a little louder than necessary. The word 'get' made it sound like the whole thing had been a poorly planned mistake, and even coming from Matt, it was more than enough to make Mello bristle. "I did what I had to do, and I accomplished the goddamn objective. Besides, you didn't have anything to do with the book aside from watching a girl who'd used it! It's not like you touched it or anything. If that was enough to get someone here, the place would be packed. Use your goddamn head."

He stabbed a breadstick into a puddle of sauce and bit off the tip, his nose wrinkled in annoyance and disgust.

[whohitreset]

The association had been willing, though. He'd willingly associated with someone who'd been trying to stop the user of said book. Matt scowled back at his friend. "I am using my head," he growled. "Enough to notice you didn't contest the fact that we're both dead."

Maybe Mello hadn't been directly responsible for Matt's death, but if he hadn't gotten into this whole mess with him it wouldn't have happened. Mello should know that as well as he did.

"Sorry if I've hurt your pride."

[cnflctofintrst]

It wasn't hard to hurt Mello's pride. He took another angry bite of his breadstick and fumed for a few seconds, still scowling. When he finally spoke his voice was sullen, though some of the heat had cooled. "Yes, we're both dead," he said flatly, "but I figured you'd get away. I'm not stupid enough to let two people die by accident."

After another moment of silence he resumed eating the breadstick with slightly less aggression, though he was far from pleased. "It might have to do with the book, in our case," he said. "The book didn't send us here, but when people show up in groups they're always connected by some important event."

[whohitreset]

And there was the shifting of blame. Matt sighed in a way that made it a half-growl, running a hand through sloppy bangs. Sorry, Matt. It's not my fault I didn't take into account that Takada's bodyguards would be fanatics to the nth degree. Not important enough to make the list, apparently.

But he'd agreed to this mess all the same. He couldn't entirely blame Mello, either.

"You say 'group,'" Matt's face was once again covered by his hands. "Who else is here?" There were any number of people connected to that book, and Matt didn't recognize anyone else's faces right off the bat.

[cnflctofintrst]

"You'll probably see the two people we were watching," he said, choosing his words carefully and studying Matt for a reaction. It would be up to L to introduce himself, and Matt had only heard of Naomi in passing.

"If someone doesn't appear here when they die, they fork off of their living counterpart and the living one stays in the real world. The man here doesn't know about us. I don't think he knows anything that happened after autumn of 2004." L hadn't been firm on the matter, but Light looked years younger than the man Mello remembered, and if people were pulled here out of significant points in their timeline, as he suspected, it would make sense.

[whohitreset]

Matt was back to staring. Now that? That was just plain confusing. It would make more sense if this was just some sort of crazy afterlife, but he hadn't yet put together the idea that these people taken from different times and places might not have all been dead when they were taken.

"Fork off...? An alternate timeline?" So there was then more than one of this person in existence? He thought a few Star Trek episodes had handled this issue, but that series just made shit up all the time anyway and he hadn't bothered following it very well. "From 2004?" That was a good six years ago, going by his time at least. It was the year...

The year when L died. Significant points. Right.

"This is such crazy shit." He wanted to shove down every little voice in his head that told him Mello wouldn't play games with him, would lie and make up sill reasons for why he was there. But he couldn't. Mello simply didn't.

[cnflctofintrst]

"Well, you were going to figure it out sooner or later," Mello pointed out. "I figured I'd save you the effort." Unlike L, he thought with a flicker of annoyance.

He took a bite of pizza and chewed as he shifted his weight to balance his chair on two legs, making it easier to cross his ankles. "It's not an alternate timeline," he said. "I don't think it's a timeline at all. More like a nexus."

He'd hurt Matt's brain enough for one day. "Anyway," he said, hoping to shift the subject from the theoretical and put Matt back on solid ground, "It's not easy to get cigarettes. I hear there's some kind of black market, but you should probably just kick the habit."

If Matt came across anything worth trading, Mello was sure there'd be a better use for it.

[whohitreset]

The look Matt gave Mello after he said that was half disbelief and half angry glare. Kick the habit? It was easy enough for the blond to say. Maybe if he came across any chocolate while he was here he'd just taunt his friend with it. Oh, but that would be a different case. He could hear Mello's argument already - that chocolate wasn't as valuable a trading commodity (and not as harmful! He was only looking out for Matt's wellbeing). He snorted, shoving his tray aside. "Fuck you."

It would be better, but you didn't just demand that of someone! Especially not someone in the utterly confused position Matt was currently in.

"I'm going to kill you in your sleep," he added, though the threat was only half-hearted. Mello was already dead. Did they even sleep here? He certainly felt very much alive at the moment, despite everything the blond had said. Was it a semblance of living, or was he really alive again? He considered trying to stab himself with the plastic cutlery, but then decided against it. He would assume they'd been brought back to life somehow until he found out otherwise.

[cnflctofintrst]

"That's why I haven't told you my room number," Mello replied, his voice matter-of-fact as if he'd already considered the possibility and managed the associated risks. Although he strongly doubted Matt would kill him (let alone be physically capable of it), he couldn't discount the possibility that his friend wouldn't take well to dying.

"That's another thing," he continued as he wiped the grease from his fingertips. "We don't sleep like normal; we kind of pass out in the middle of whatever we're doing and wake up in bed. You could only do it if you caught me sleeping during the day, and I've got better stuff to do than that."

Which was true, regardless of whether he actually accomplished it.

[whohitreset]

At what point was Mello going to stop? Next he'd find out that after dark everyone's clothing turned into aluminum foil which could be used to bounce back the evil mind-control lasers that the monsters carried around. This was more than surreal.

"Like a sort of controlled narcolepsy?" Matt frowned. "Everyone at once, or-- you know what, don't bother. I'm sure I'll see it for myself. Or not see it, as the case may be." His head was already starting to hurt from the sudden onslaught of impossible information, and he didn't even have a cigarette to calm his nerves with.

"About catching you asleep during the day, though," he couldn't help but add to help lighten his mood, "... how's the caffeine withdrawal coming along?"

[cnflctofintrst]

Mello made a sound that was more than an incomprehensible grunt but less than an actual word. If he'd properly verbalized it, it would have been profane.

"There's tea," he said in a tone that made it clear exactly what he thought of tea, "but for all I know, it might be decaf." It was sadistic enough for this place. His thumbs were still intact, but he figured the torn skin around his other fingernails spoke for itself.

[whohitreset]

"Tea?" Matt made a bit of a face himself. "Not even soda? Shit." What sort of proper eating establishment had pizza but no soda to go with it?

The same sort that had monsters running about at night, apparently.

At least he knew he wasn't going to be alone in suffering the loss of vices. Mello's might seem sillier, but for someone who ate practically nothing but chocolate for years, such a change was going to hit him pretty hard. When he was feeling less vindictive, he might feel some pity. Maybe.

The hated glasses slid partway down his nose and he instinctively pushed them back up with one finger, hating himself for the action even before he'd finished.

[cnflctofintrst]

"Not even coffee," Mello said, stifling another yawn. How long were people asleep, every night? He couldn't use himself as a benchmark in this condition, and although most people looked exhausted, he doubted any amount of sleep in this place could leave someone feeling rested.

He'd noticed on the first day that none of the staff wore timepieces and there were no visible clocks in the institute. He would have expected nothing else, given what he'd learned about the nurses, but even if time was subjective it was still quantifiable. Mello glanced to the ceiling as his mind shuffled through possibilities. The distant expression lasted less than a full second before he sat up and looked at Matt with renewed interest.

"Have you ever built the type of equipment you used out there from scraps?" he asked. Mello knew a fair amount about the way electronics worked, but there was a difference between understanding something and putting it into practice. The radio made it through surgery, but the more complex something was, the higher the chance of error when modifying it. Matt's expertise could be invaluable.

Although his self-satisfied smile was a shade less confident than usual, he felt far more like himself than he had when he entered the cafeteria.