Day 41: Breakfast

[oftemptation]

Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute

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[allroadslead]

Adrenaline still running high, Sam awoke with a start. His hand flew to the side of his neck, expecting to feel the slip of blood beneath his fingers. Instead, there was a thin raised line, a few inches in length. A slip of the blade at most, though still deep enough to be visible and too close to hitting the jugular for comfort. No dried blood flaked away at his touch, either. Someone had obviously cleaned the cut. It and the gash near his side, he realized, when he felt the stitches pull as he propped himself up on one elbow. He had no idea who had done that, but his head was fuzzy and he felt like he had a massive hangover, but with more pain, and so it didn't seem worth it to question who had saved him the trouble of having to stitch himself back up.

He gingerly pushed himself to a sitting position, lifted his shirt up to eye the bandage. The novelty of close calls had worn off awhile ago, but even so, he was pretty damn lucky to get away with only a couple of flesh wounds considering his brother had tried to stab him and slit

[allroadslead]

The second he hit the cafeteria, his eyes immediately sought out Dean and found nothing. An automatic spike of panic rose though he knew it was early yet and Dean, in all likelihood, wasn't gonna spring right out of bed. Not exactly the best of shape, either of them. Besides, as much as he would've felt better if he could've seen Dean first, this at least meant he could talk to Lelouch. It was something he'd far rather do on his own. Last thing he wanted was for Dean to get hit with that crap again. He still wasn't a hundred percent certain of his immunity-there was something off about Lelouch, the weird red glow not the least of it-but his chances were way higher than Dean's.

Sam ditched his tray the first chance he got. Eating was the furthest thing from his mind. Lelouch wasn't hard to pick out from the crowd and he strode over as soon as he did, trying to hide as much of his limp as he could. He was probably gonna pay for it later, putting the extra weight on his knee, but like hell he was gonna stumble his way over

[allroadslead]

Memory loss was the first thing Sam latched onto. Dean lost the whole night, then? Looked like, from the way Lelouch said it. It bothered him that Dean's memory had been screwed with, bothered him further that this was what he was counting on, but there was no other way around it. He had no plans to set Dean straight, either. What the hell was he supposed to tell Dean? Fill in the blanks about how Dean had nearly slit his throat and spent half the night digging a fucking grave with his bare hands

[allroadslead]

It didn't go unnoticed, no, but Sam's only interest was making sure Dean didn't get tangled up in this mess again and so he brushed it aside without much consideration