Ridiculously long and empty, the hallway smelled of antiseptic and urine, the latter scent light and almost imperceptible, as if some fool had added piddled in the corner and with every step closer to the tattooed boy slouched on the bench at the far end of the hall, Adrian amused himself by imagining that Leonard was that fool. Pivoting on his heel, he stood beside the boy who stared blankly, hands clasped behind his back and blocking the view of the wall at which Leonard focused his full attention, and while it was petty, the dark and livid bruise that formed at the corner of the boy's eye and spread across the uninked skin of his temple gave Adrian no small degree of satisfaction. So did the rigid posture and blank stare, the lack of tomfoolery that masked fear and frustration, and so he left Leonard as he was, blessedly, utterly silent, and began the long walk down the deserted highway, dark eyes focused on the door behind which the Society healers worked to stabilize Three and prepare the comatose demi-god for transport to Arizona.
All that remained was the arrival of the evermore errant and missing Gideon Flynn. After the first messages, the last had been stark in comparison, stating simply that a car would be waiting at the front door. That Gideon was to pack his things and be in that car without any further delay was a given and with a soft huff, Adrian turned once more to pace, approaching Leonard with a glare that only sharpened at the twitch of the boy's fingers against the bench.
Leonard would be dealt with at his leisure. As would Gideon. For the time being, One and Two had their hands full, and so the waiting... chafed. Step after step waiting on the boy who had once shown so much promise. Such a pity.