Los Angeles, Late Thursday Night
After nearly three weeks in the hospital, Callisto had had enough of it. Enough of being poked and prodded, enough of that too calm woman with her too many questions, enough of her only contact with anyone not connected to this place being Angel's single visit in order to throw her out of the Hyperion.
So she got out of bed and left.
It had been easier than she'd expected, late enough that there were less people to avoid, early enough that a patient out of their room wasn't particularly noteworthy. Just about the only time she was in any real danger of getting caught was the stop at a temporarily empty nurse's station to mess with her records in the computer to buy some extra time. Sure she had to leave behind the few possessions she'd been brought in with, but she'd had less comfortable things to wear than the flimsy hospital garments, and she was only going to miss the boots, really.
In any case, before she was even really aware of it, she was standing in front of the hospital, barefoot and empty handed, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. It was a far too familiar feeling, but, hey, at least this time she wasn't leaving any charred corpses of people she loved behind.
Without really looking where she was going, she put one foot in front of the other and started to walk.
[Not so much for the interaction]
So she got out of bed and left.
It had been easier than she'd expected, late enough that there were less people to avoid, early enough that a patient out of their room wasn't particularly noteworthy. Just about the only time she was in any real danger of getting caught was the stop at a temporarily empty nurse's station to mess with her records in the computer to buy some extra time. Sure she had to leave behind the few possessions she'd been brought in with, but she'd had less comfortable things to wear than the flimsy hospital garments, and she was only going to miss the boots, really.
In any case, before she was even really aware of it, she was standing in front of the hospital, barefoot and empty handed, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. It was a far too familiar feeling, but, hey, at least this time she wasn't leaving any charred corpses of people she loved behind.
Without really looking where she was going, she put one foot in front of the other and started to walk.
[Not so much for the interaction]