(no subject)
Who: Jason Bourne & Billy Costigan, then Leonard McCoy
Where: Level 2 (hallway/stairwell, then infirmary)
When: A few days after Costigan's arrival
What: That's funny.. Bourne looks exactly like Sullivan. Costigan is displeased.
Warnings: Violence. Lots of violence.
Billy was still getting oriented with where he had found himself. He had discovered the network by the end of his first day and was monitoring it since then, trying to figure out what this place was and how he'd ended up here. He was getting the impression that maybe he had died and there was only one person that could be responsible: Sullivan. If the man hadn't shot him directly, which was unlikely, he still had to have a hand. No one else knew.
That's why as soon as the inmate spotted Sullivan leaving a room to enter into the hallway on the second level, he immediately withdrew back into the stairwell. One hand lifted to scrub his eyes just to be certain he was seeing what he thought he was. He'd only arrived with a half-empty bottle of anti-anxiety medications and was already fearing for when he ran out, so he'd only taken a couple thus far.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself. He didn't have handcuffs, his gun, or anything else. Still, he couldn't just let Sullivan walk away. Not after everything. No matter where he was or why, the bastard needed to get what was coming to him.
He waited in the stairwell, just out of sight from the hallway, and waited. As soon as he saw a shadow of movement, he swiftly turned around the corner and threw a punch straight at the bastard's face. Then followed it up with an opposite hook toward his floating ribs.
Where: Level 2 (hallway/stairwell, then infirmary)
When: A few days after Costigan's arrival
What: That's funny.. Bourne looks exactly like Sullivan. Costigan is displeased.
Warnings: Violence. Lots of violence.
Billy was still getting oriented with where he had found himself. He had discovered the network by the end of his first day and was monitoring it since then, trying to figure out what this place was and how he'd ended up here. He was getting the impression that maybe he had died and there was only one person that could be responsible: Sullivan. If the man hadn't shot him directly, which was unlikely, he still had to have a hand. No one else knew.
That's why as soon as the inmate spotted Sullivan leaving a room to enter into the hallway on the second level, he immediately withdrew back into the stairwell. One hand lifted to scrub his eyes just to be certain he was seeing what he thought he was. He'd only arrived with a half-empty bottle of anti-anxiety medications and was already fearing for when he ran out, so he'd only taken a couple thus far.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself. He didn't have handcuffs, his gun, or anything else. Still, he couldn't just let Sullivan walk away. Not after everything. No matter where he was or why, the bastard needed to get what was coming to him.
He waited in the stairwell, just out of sight from the hallway, and waited. As soon as he saw a shadow of movement, he swiftly turned around the corner and threw a punch straight at the bastard's face. Then followed it up with an opposite hook toward his floating ribs.