Day 54: Lunch

[full_score]

All things considered, last shift had been pretty low key. After this morning's disaster, though, that was perfectly fine by Claude. Some fresh air and a chance to make sure Guy and Okita were all right weren't things to take for granted. It was also good to have a fairly normal, conversation with Guy that didn't slip off into awkward territory

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[human_sponge]

That talk with Claire had turned out to be extremely tiring -- and more than that, he didn't know if he'd really gotten through to her, so it had likely been unproductive on top of it all. Still, there wasn't much Peter could do about it now, since the best thing for Claire at the moment would probably be if she had some time to reflect on it on her own. Then again, with how social people tended to be here, that wasn't necessarily likely. Even if his niece decided to sit alone, there was a good chance she'd be approached

[future_games]

Despite his silent staring contest with one of the nurses in the balcony of the sun room, the burning in Isaac's eyes had finally subsided by lunch. He wasn't feeling up to the shift change, though. It was just another step towards night, and he knew he'd have to leave his room again eventually.

He floated aimlessly through the lunch line without putting up a fight and was fully intend on sitting somewhere in the corner until a smiling nurse intervened.

"How about you sit with Mr.Campbell today?"

The whole concept of having a name but being called by something completely different was still working its way into Isaac's mind. He wasn't sure who 'Mr.Campbell' actually was, or if he'd spoken to him previously, but the nurse gestured and Isaac was met immediately with the familiar face of Peter Petrelli

[human_sponge]

Well, that was unexpected

[future_games]

"I've been around," Isaac mumbled, spearing a fry onto his fork. "I just haven't had much to say."

Isaac's near-silence was part of his way of coping. Somehow, it just helped to fade into the background and go as unnoticed as possible. He had never adapted easily to change, and finding himself forced here was too much change. Between the nagging memories of his life before Landel's and the constant feeling of uneasiness he got each time he walked down the facility's corridors, it was clear that the painter wasn't settling in as well as a healthier person might.

He hadn't spoken to many people, but he found that he didn't feel so discontent with Peter. The bitter feelings were still there, but he found that he really trusted Peter more than he trusted anyone else in this place. Admitting it just wasn't an option.

He frowned, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "I was thinking it couldn't get much worse," he replied. "I would still be thinking that if this morning hadn't have happened."

[human_sponge]

That kind of noncommittal answer was enough to annoy Peter, especially after he'd just had such a trying talk with Claire, but he forced it down. He couldn't take that out on Isaac, especially when he didn't have much of an idea of what the man had been through in his few days here. Had he gotten attacked by any more monsters?

The man's next comment was a pretty good description of what they'd just been through and what the implications were, Peter had to admit. He ended up offering a wry smile and nodding. "So you were awake for that? Were you able to get out before the gas came in?"

It was hard to tell, seeing how Isaac always tended to look a bit washed out and sleep-deprived. Peter really didn't know what Simone saw in him in that case, not to mention the drug problem... But he didn't need to let what was ultimately petty get in the way now. Simone would have wanted them to work together on this, so he was going to do his best

[future_games]

Isaac's only response was the shake of his head. He had gotten out of the cafeteria quickly enough to be spared the worst of the tear gas - probably the only stroke of luck he'd been given here thus far - but his eyes had continued to burn and his throat remained tight long after he was far away from the gas. It seemed so strange that even a place like this would stoop to such an inhumane level when no one was even getting hurt, but Isaac didn't feel the need to talk about it much more. It had already been implied that nothing like this had happened before, and he was fairly certain that the other man had been there to witness it himself. There wasn't much he had to say about it.

But the next question caught him feeling a little self-conscious. Courage was something that Isaac constantly reached for, but struggled to hold in his grasp for too long. It was a seemingly constant part of Peter's personality, but all of Isaac's valor seemed too short, too fleeting

[human_sponge]

Just a shake of the head wasn't much of a response, but Peter decided not to harp on it. That whole thing was already behind them, and if Isaac didn't want to go into detail about what his experience with the gas had been, then that was fine. Peter wasn't too interested in talking about it, either; the point was that Isaac had experienced it and gotten an idea of what they were now up against

[future_games]

"It isn't different," he sighed, scrubbing at his face with his hands. They were strangely free of paint and graphite smudges, a sign that he had still managed to his promise not to paint or draw until he was certain there was absolutely no chance of his ability kicking in.

But he only trailed off, not continuing to explain what he meant. Oh, he knew what he was feeling and what he wanted to say. Danger here was the same as it was back home, except now it was coming in the form of shifty staff members and monsters lurking in the shadows; not serial killers and exploding men. The situation had been too big for Isaac back then as well, so what was the difference between running and hiding here and running and hiding in New York? There was no clear division, but Isaac was trying desperately not to spark another fight. Not today. If he were to get into discussing the explosion, he might not be able to get out

[human_sponge]

While Isaac gave that response, it seemed to be done out of the need to be contrary rather than anything else, mainly because he didn't clarify. Peter was pretty sure that none of them had ever imagined that there could be real monsters in the world, not to mention the other patients with their insane (yet true) stories. Even after spending so much time here, a day didn't go by that Peter wasn't shocked by something -- and this was coming from someone who'd almost blown up New York single-handedly

[future_games]

"He's...nice," Isaac replied absently. "More talkative than I'm used to."

Of course, everyone was more talkative than Isaac was used to. Snow wasn't even particularly chatty by normal standards and there was nothing about him that particularly bothered Isaac, but he always managed to distance himself so far from other people that "nice and "talkative" were the only words the painter could think to describe his roommate.

He really had to wonder, though, had it always been that way? Had it always been so difficult to let anyone in? He couldn't remember. It wasn't that he thought talking to someone about all these issues wouldn't help, but he could barely recall a time when he could speak about himself and express what he was feeling without forcing himself to bite the more painful details back. It was difficult to describe, but now he felt as though he had been haphazardly reassembled for Landel's alone. He was made up of impossible knots and pieces of a shattered whole that simply didn't fit properly into place anymore. He was

[human_sponge]

Talkative and nice sounded like good qualities to have in a roommate for someone like Isaac. While Peter didn't know the painter that well, he could tell that he needed people around him who could pull him out of his shell, who could make him act even when all he wanted to do was hide behind the fog of a drug. Peter wondered if the man had gotten sedated since he'd arrived here, and hoped that he hadn't

[future_games]

"This," he sighed, putting a little more emphasis on the word. He didn't want to explain. He didn't want to say it like it really was: Trying to be like you. That's exactly what it was. Did Peter even realize what a long shadow he cast? He was a freaking saint, could never do wrong on purpose, and it still made Isaac's stomach turn with jealously. Even though Simone was gone and there was nothing left worth fighting over, there was still part of Isaac that longed to be out of Peter's shadow. To be something more than the washed-out junkie he was always going to be at the end of the day, with or without drugs. He would always crave that rush

[human_sponge]

Even as Isaac tried to honestly explain what it was that he was going through, Peter still had a hard time following along. It was because they were different on such a basic level, and he realized that, but he still struggled to understand. But what was wrong with wanting things? And was there really such a thing as "more than I am"? Peter didn't think so; he felt that everyone had the ability to improve if they really worked at it. But Isaac was a pessimist through and through, so...

The comments about death were a little easier to deal with, and so he focused on that first. "I know you were," he said with a nod. "But you've got to face that that's changed. I know this seems like a pretty bad deal, to come back and be here, but... that doesn't mean you shouldn't even try