Day 22, Waiting Room 2, Evening Shift

[31st_of_china]

Sanzo couldn't think of anyone who would want to visit him. He knew that he wasn't exactly the most pleasant person around - not that he gave a shit - so it wasn't like he made any friends. That was more for the others: Gojyo had called him a "self-absorbed prick" more than once, and Sanzo didn't care to change it. Fuck the roach

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[dead_draven]

Eric went escorted to the waiting room with a blank expression on his face. Of course he wasn't pleased by the idea of a visit. He had no living family, and Shelly was....gone. That meant that it could only be some fake, some doppleganger that this place had created solely to torture and tease him, or one of the few left he had yet to kill.

Since it was supposed to be family and friends, he assumed it would be the former. But he was prepared. He steadied himself as best he could, sitting with his head hanging, staring at the wood of the table. No matter who it was, no matter what he saw, he wouldn't let it bother him. They wouldn't break him, not today.

[damned_visitors]

She seemed a little jumpy, a little uncertain when she entered the waiting room. And why not - she'd barely avoided this place herself, and lost the man she loved to it, though with hope temporarily, even if there'd been a setback.

A nurse led her over to where Mercutio sat, quietly explaining a few things to her before they arrived.

Still, her smile was brilliant when she saw him. She said, "Hey, you," and held her hands out to him.

[dead_draven]

He looked up, meeting her eyes, unable to think of a thing to say. He was speechless for the first time in a long time, his resolve and confidence drying up the minute he laid eyes on her.

She looked just the same as he remembered her best, as she had been until death had broken their door down. She looked like an angel, just like she always did. But that was what she should actually be, now--an angel, not a breathing being. He knew she'd died, he knew. Even if she had survived and what he'd seen had lied to him, why would so many other people have lied in turn? Albrecht...Sarah. No, she couldn't be. It wasn't her.

Part of him wanted to touch her, pretend that she was real. But he couldn't do that. He loved her too much.

So he stayed silent, staring up at her without saying a word. He didn't take her by the hand, or kiss her, or caress her; he didn't do anything he badly wanted to do. He stayed still, and just did his best not to let the sight of her make him cry.

[damned_visitors]

When he looked at her, joy showed in her eyes. Then when he made no move, it was like a physical blow, a punch in the gut. She still smiled, but it hurt.

"You remember me, right?" she asked, her voice breaking. "I... I miss you."

[dead_draven]

"I remember you," he said quietly, looking away. "I remember everything about you, every inch of your skin..." he trailed off. "I can't do this. I just can't. I miss you too, but this isn't really you. So what does any of it matter?" He wasn't entirely making sense, but it was difficult just to keep his thoughts together.

[damned_visitors]

Shelly knelt in front of him, reaching out to tentatively touch his hand. "This is real," she said. "I've missed you so much. I've waited for you for so long..." Her eyes shone with tears. "It's been so lonely without you. It's been... hard, being on my own. In the hospital, and..." She fell silent, looking down at the floor.

[dead_draven]

He didn't pull his hand away, but he didn't take hers, either. "You don't know what you are," he said softly, looking down at her. "Go home. You don't know what they've put you up to. Funny, though, you look just like her..."

He reached out with his free hand and touched her face, very gently. "I'm glad you're not her. I wouldn't want her to see me like this."

[damned_visitors]

She covered his hand with hers. "Please," she said. "I just want you to come home. Don't do this to me. Please." She closed her eyes, fighting to not cry. "I didn't want to believe them when they said you... went crazy when I was... attacked. I didn't want to believe them. I'm so sorry. It's my fault..."

[dead_draven]

"Don't say that," he said, tone suddenly sharp. "I don't care who you are. Don't say that. It wasn't her fault. It had nothing to do with her. It was all them, and they will take responsibility for their actions. That I can promise."

His gaze was hard. "I may be crazy but I am no fool. Why are you doing this? What did they tell you?"

[damned_visitors]

She did start crying, then, slow tears that crept down her cheeks. "They told me you attacked someone this morning," she said. "Why? You were so close to coming home."

She shook her head. "I was in the hospital for weeks. I couldn't be there for you when you were recovering. I'm so sorry..."

[dead_draven]

"Someone who deserved it," he said, looking away. "He's brought so much pain to so many and yet remains untouchable. That must be changed."

Everything she was saying...seeing her cry--it ached. He couldn't keep that out or make that go away no matter how hard he tried, reminding himself again and again that this wasn't her.

But the torturous doubt of not knowing for sure gnawed at him. What if he really was that deeply insane, and causing her this much grief? The very idea was painful, and he pushed it away. "And I was sorry about not standing by her for those thirty hours of pain. We are all so very sorry, but our condolences will never be enough."

[damned_visitors]

Her hand tightened against his, her tears coming faster. "Don't say that. Damnit, don't say that. It was me. I fought through all of it, though surgery and the ICU and more surgery and physical therapy and s-sessions with the c-counselor for you. I kept fighting for you."

She let go, hugging her arms around her chest. "I can't keep fighting if you're not going to be there..."

[dead_draven]

"Just like I'm fighting for you," he said, staring at the floor. He couldn't look at her, watch her cry. Even if it wasn't her, it was still her face, her voice...he had never wanted her to be in pain ever again, and now here she was--no, here was someone like her, crying on the floor. "Don't worry. Things will be alright."

He studied her. He'd always thought she was a godsend, an angel struck down by devils with knives, syringes, and cigarettes. How he hated to see tears on that angel face...but he didn't dare comfort her.

[damned_visitors]

She shook her head. "They won't be alright, not like this. Things haven't been alright since..." she paused. She seemed to have to force the next words out. "...since the attack. But if you'd just come home... please, I miss you so much. I know your blame yourself, but it wasn't your fault. You did everything you could. We survived. But it's not really surviving, if you're in here, and I'm out there, and I can only come see you on visiting days." She covered her face with her hands. "They already took so much from me. And now it's like they took you, too..."

[dead_draven]

"I don't like that we've been separated, but it's just the way things happened," he said, shaking his head. "Things will be better, and we will be together again. Just as soon as I can leave here and...and finish what I started. Then you'll never have to cry again. The wrong things will get set right."

[damned_visitors]

Shelly reached out to him again, hoping that this time, he wouldn't turn her away. "Do you promise?" she asked. "I just want you to come home. Everything will be okay if you just come home to me..."