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The steady drip of blood to the bathroom floor. Can't even remember who I was before.
It's difficult to be the man who knows everything about the facility when the results of his newest treachery are all over the monitors. For all that he has built himself to be cut off from the things around him, he still feels the bile rise in his throat when Liam's face comes into view of one of the cameras. None of the veteran employees are foolish enough to look his way. None of the new ones are dumb enough to mention the visual similarities when he's in the room.
But they see it, too. And the director forces himself to remain where he is. Watching the proceedings of the newest induction.
He leaves five minutes later and no one says a word. No one dares to.
Back in his office, the door shut and his employees no longer in visual range, the Director disappears. That stoic, controlled man behind the desk falters and grips the arms of his chair, pale and sick and small at being faced with what he has done. A second time. All for the sake of rendering his threat off guard. Sacrificing his rook to put a pawn into play.
And Liam's face ceases to just be a ghost in his mind and resumes haunting his waking hours. Even as he looks up at the private monitors, he realizes his mistake. This is in Southtown. It's new arrival day. Of course John would be there. Of course he would run into Liam.
Of course his brother's face would be right there, staring back at him, injured and confused.
It isn't John he's looking at. Not with that expression.
Logan's stomach rolls and the voices in his head grow louder. Laughter rings in his ears and there is nothing he can do about it. They wouldn't have accepted the deal if it wasn't beneficial to them. And oh how they loved to chip away at the remnants of his shattered, bloody soul.
He looses his breakfast into the bin by his desk and sits there a long moment. Head in his hands. Listening to Liam and John's voice mix in a blur in the background.
He cleans himself and his office up. Washes the bad taste out of his mouth and closes his eyes. Counts to ten. And when he opens them again to stare at his desk, he knows better than to look up again. Not right now. Not here. Instead he puts the earpiece in so no one will hear. And he goes back to work.
And each time Liam speaks to John, he can feel the grins of the Gods burning in his skull.
But the pawn is in place and there is nothing he could do for the rook, regardless.
That piece was taken long before now.
But they see it, too. And the director forces himself to remain where he is. Watching the proceedings of the newest induction.
He leaves five minutes later and no one says a word. No one dares to.
Back in his office, the door shut and his employees no longer in visual range, the Director disappears. That stoic, controlled man behind the desk falters and grips the arms of his chair, pale and sick and small at being faced with what he has done. A second time. All for the sake of rendering his threat off guard. Sacrificing his rook to put a pawn into play.
And Liam's face ceases to just be a ghost in his mind and resumes haunting his waking hours. Even as he looks up at the private monitors, he realizes his mistake. This is in Southtown. It's new arrival day. Of course John would be there. Of course he would run into Liam.
Of course his brother's face would be right there, staring back at him, injured and confused.
It isn't John he's looking at. Not with that expression.
Logan's stomach rolls and the voices in his head grow louder. Laughter rings in his ears and there is nothing he can do about it. They wouldn't have accepted the deal if it wasn't beneficial to them. And oh how they loved to chip away at the remnants of his shattered, bloody soul.
He looses his breakfast into the bin by his desk and sits there a long moment. Head in his hands. Listening to Liam and John's voice mix in a blur in the background.
He cleans himself and his office up. Washes the bad taste out of his mouth and closes his eyes. Counts to ten. And when he opens them again to stare at his desk, he knows better than to look up again. Not right now. Not here. Instead he puts the earpiece in so no one will hear. And he goes back to work.
And each time Liam speaks to John, he can feel the grins of the Gods burning in his skull.
But the pawn is in place and there is nothing he could do for the rook, regardless.
That piece was taken long before now.