Night 59: M31-M40 Hallway
Castiel never came to dinner. It should've been a relief, in a way, except if there was only one benefit having his ribs broken, it was that Stefan didn't have to worry about harming his roommate. Stefan spent the time in silence, too restless to nap or eat, pacing a little in the small space between his desk and closet. He didn't consider wandering into Castiel's half even once - doing so would be like admitting that the man wasn't coming back, as irrational as that was.
But his roommate didn't show, and Stefan didn't get a hint about his whereabouts until the intercom piped up again. A few of you were fortunate enough to be selected to help us... Trepidation filled him as he stood before the exit, his knife in hand. What did that mean? Right now, Stefan was probably the only person who could know Castiel had been "selected" - should he find someone who knew him? Leave a note? He knew Castiel had friends, from what he'd read on the bulletin board...
Stefan didn't get long to consider it. He'd scarcely stepped out into the hall when, out of nowhere, alarms blared and a woman's oddly cadenced voice began chanting warnings over and over. The sound rattled uncomfortably in Stefan's finely tuned ears, but his focus was now taken up by the pink light which rushed through the hallway next. Pain, he expected now. Debilitation. Confusion. Danger.
In the stillness which followed, he didn't get any of that. In fact, he felt... Weird was the wrong word for it. Weird, he realized, was what he'd been feeling before. His skin itched under his bandages, and almost without thinking, Stefan unbuttoned the top of his shirt and reached in to peel them off his shoulder, and knew before he did what he would see.
His wounds were completely gone. Torn skin and muscle, bruises and cracked bones. Gone. And not just that. His hearing, his sense of smell, all those little things he'd taken for granted after 145 years of being a superhuman monster... He was himself again.
There was a moment's guilt at the first emotion which Stefan registered. Elation and amazement, close enough to that rush he'd felt after he'd turned, drunk on blood and the power of being a vampire, that he wanted to recoil from himself. But it wouldn't last. It hadn't for Edward. He was likely to go back to being deafened and crippled in the morning... but until then. There was no point to feeling guilty about the plus sides. Lexi had taught him that. It wasn't all a curse.
Stefan smiled and ran, becoming little more than a blur as he sped through the hallways to Elena's room.
[to here]
But his roommate didn't show, and Stefan didn't get a hint about his whereabouts until the intercom piped up again. A few of you were fortunate enough to be selected to help us... Trepidation filled him as he stood before the exit, his knife in hand. What did that mean? Right now, Stefan was probably the only person who could know Castiel had been "selected" - should he find someone who knew him? Leave a note? He knew Castiel had friends, from what he'd read on the bulletin board...
Stefan didn't get long to consider it. He'd scarcely stepped out into the hall when, out of nowhere, alarms blared and a woman's oddly cadenced voice began chanting warnings over and over. The sound rattled uncomfortably in Stefan's finely tuned ears, but his focus was now taken up by the pink light which rushed through the hallway next. Pain, he expected now. Debilitation. Confusion. Danger.
In the stillness which followed, he didn't get any of that. In fact, he felt... Weird was the wrong word for it. Weird, he realized, was what he'd been feeling before. His skin itched under his bandages, and almost without thinking, Stefan unbuttoned the top of his shirt and reached in to peel them off his shoulder, and knew before he did what he would see.
His wounds were completely gone. Torn skin and muscle, bruises and cracked bones. Gone. And not just that. His hearing, his sense of smell, all those little things he'd taken for granted after 145 years of being a superhuman monster... He was himself again.
There was a moment's guilt at the first emotion which Stefan registered. Elation and amazement, close enough to that rush he'd felt after he'd turned, drunk on blood and the power of being a vampire, that he wanted to recoil from himself. But it wouldn't last. It hadn't for Edward. He was likely to go back to being deafened and crippled in the morning... but until then. There was no point to feeling guilty about the plus sides. Lexi had taught him that. It wasn't all a curse.
Stefan smiled and ran, becoming little more than a blur as he sped through the hallways to Elena's room.
[to here]