As the day began drawing to a close, the intercom flickered to life. Instead of Harrington's voice, however, Berg's calm tone filtered through the speakers
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Ending the day by getting to check on his niece was more or less the best way to do so, which Peter was glad for. He couldn't say that things were going well, since he was still stuck in this place and so was everyone else, but he was definitely establishing a stronger direction for himself and that was enough to energize him
( ... )
The day had been weirdly mellow, which was kinda nice, but put him on edge just by virtue of the fact that when things were quiet, that was when shit really hit the fan.
As people filed down the hallway, one soldier pulled him aside to-promote him, apparently. Nice of them. Three weeks. Right. How could he forget. He'd woken up in his room during dinner three weeks ago. God, really? It seemed longer. He knew it wasn't, that was just how it felt. His sense of time in here was seriously whacked.
He didn't get the soldier's offhand, Enjoy your meal, until he stepped into his room and realized his tray actually had something that wasn't an insane shade of pink. He also noticed Peter on the floor by the closet. Huh. Peter almost never ignored his dinner. If anyone went without eating, it was usually Sam. Did something happen? It didn't seem like it, but...
"Hey." He sat down and started digging in. His brows were drawn in question. "Lost your appetite?"
It didn't take long for Sam to show, but that was about the norm for them. Ever since Sam had become Peter's roommate, he'd been able to stop worrying so much. Sam was reliable; he was always there to talk things through with Peter. Sometimes he forgot how much he took the other man for granted
( ... )
Oh. Yeah, of course, that was right. He probably should've made the connection earlier. Castiel and Dean had been freaking out about the same thing. Which honestly had been a little weird, having an angel worry about what you were putting into your mouth. Or eating with an angel at all
( ... )
While Peter could have tried to convince Sam that he was better off not eating the food, chances were that the guy had already sampled some of the stuff in the earlier meals. If he still wasn't feeling any effects, then it was probably fine, which meant that... well, he'd told Firo not to eat for no reason. Not that he could have known that the outcome would be like this, seeing how nine times out of ten if something bad could happen here it would, but
( ... )
Sam winced internally. Sometimes he forgot about Nathan. Peter mentioned him so rarely that, yeah. That was a slip. Still, the moment was pushed by quick enough when Peter spoke up again.
Huh. Talk about right on cue. That was almost a little freaky.
Peter's request came while Sam was about to put a precariously balanced forkful of food in his mouth, so when the question made him look over in surprise, the chicken promptly plopped back onto the bed of rice. He speared it again.
"Yeah, sure. I can give you a hand tonight if you want." He hadn't made any specific appointments with Dean or Ruby, and frankly, he could use a break from both. If Ruby wanted him bad enough, he didn't doubt she'd pound on his door or track him down, so he wasn't all that worried about whether or not he was skipping out on something she was into having him do.
Besides. It might be good to help people for once. Really help people. That was what he was here for, right? It was easy to forget when he was so caught up with everything else
( ... )
The image of that rotted piece of chicken falling off of Sam's fork and back onto the plate was almost enough to even make Peter gag. He could deal with vomiting patients and all of the other unpleasant bodily functions that he'd been exposed to while training as a nurse, but there was something about watching someone eat spoiled food without blinking that was gross in a whole different way
( ... )
Kinda hard not to notice that look on Peter's face, so Sam quickly swept up the rest of his dinner and stuck the tray under the desk when he was done. He'd feel bad if he made Peter throw up before the had even started.
He spun around in his chair to face Peter, elbows on his knees. He eyed the supplies lying in organized piles on the ground. Pretty impressive collection, even for someone who'd been here awhile. Guess his roommate had been working on it. It was a good thing to throw your effort into as any. Any real rescuing with the experimental victims just didn't happen (he'd learned that real well.) Making sure they weren't left to bleed out into the halls was the best anyone could do
( ... )
Just like that, Sam started to prepare for the night, going to grab for the very weapons that Peter had kept in mind when deciding to ask his roommate for help. Well, he hadn't even known about the knife (or it was possible that he'd just forgotten about it, seeing how Sam seemed to be well-armed in general), but he wasn't particularly shocked to see it.
Before he could offer his thanks or do much else, though, Sam brought up what had happened last night. Peter startled -- how could he have forgotten that? His concerns had all been assuaged when he'd seen Sam in bed that morning, but...
But still, Sam had been taken by some soldiers last night and that had just completely slipped his mind because he'd been preoccupied with this whole paramedic thing. That should have been the first thing he'd asked Sam about when he'd walked in here, and yet instead he'd been so absorbed in his own projects.
"...Yeah, I've heard about them. Just a little, but... yeah, wow. Sorry, I guess I'm all over the place lately. What happened, exactly?" He
( ... )
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As people filed down the hallway, one soldier pulled him aside to-promote him, apparently. Nice of them. Three weeks. Right. How could he forget. He'd woken up in his room during dinner three weeks ago. God, really? It seemed longer. He knew it wasn't, that was just how it felt. His sense of time in here was seriously whacked.
He didn't get the soldier's offhand, Enjoy your meal, until he stepped into his room and realized his tray actually had something that wasn't an insane shade of pink. He also noticed Peter on the floor by the closet. Huh. Peter almost never ignored his dinner. If anyone went without eating, it was usually Sam. Did something happen? It didn't seem like it, but...
"Hey." He sat down and started digging in. His brows were drawn in question. "Lost your appetite?"
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Huh. Talk about right on cue. That was almost a little freaky.
Peter's request came while Sam was about to put a precariously balanced forkful of food in his mouth, so when the question made him look over in surprise, the chicken promptly plopped back onto the bed of rice. He speared it again.
"Yeah, sure. I can give you a hand tonight if you want." He hadn't made any specific appointments with Dean or Ruby, and frankly, he could use a break from both. If Ruby wanted him bad enough, he didn't doubt she'd pound on his door or track him down, so he wasn't all that worried about whether or not he was skipping out on something she was into having him do.
Besides. It might be good to help people for once. Really help people. That was what he was here for, right? It was easy to forget when he was so caught up with everything else ( ... )
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He spun around in his chair to face Peter, elbows on his knees. He eyed the supplies lying in organized piles on the ground. Pretty impressive collection, even for someone who'd been here awhile. Guess his roommate had been working on it. It was a good thing to throw your effort into as any. Any real rescuing with the experimental victims just didn't happen (he'd learned that real well.) Making sure they weren't left to bleed out into the halls was the best anyone could do ( ... )
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Before he could offer his thanks or do much else, though, Sam brought up what had happened last night. Peter startled -- how could he have forgotten that? His concerns had all been assuaged when he'd seen Sam in bed that morning, but...
But still, Sam had been taken by some soldiers last night and that had just completely slipped his mind because he'd been preoccupied with this whole paramedic thing. That should have been the first thing he'd asked Sam about when he'd walked in here, and yet instead he'd been so absorbed in his own projects.
"...Yeah, I've heard about them. Just a little, but... yeah, wow. Sorry, I guess I'm all over the place lately. What happened, exactly?" He ( ... )
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