Re: Visiting the Hospital
Daniel was not a difficult read. The deeper they got in the hospital, the more uncomfortable he was, and the slower he moved, the narrower his eyes grew. He looked at the faces of the people around him much less, and more at them as whole shapes, as heartbeats and warm movement. The elevator went somewhat better, because in the contained space with only people he recognized he was able to concentrate on what Cris said, and do something besides smell his blood in the air and worry that he was going to lose his grip on this reality at any moment. There was still no cat, however, and he took comfort in the fact that the pleasant tang of Cris' blood was only that, pleasant, and nothing that overwhelmed or made him nothing but hunger.
For a moment when the elevator doors slid open and Cris moved away, talking about scrubs, it seemed as if Daniel would end up riding back down again to the lobby, because he stuck to the wall until what seemed like the last moment until he forced himself through and rotated his shoulders slightly sideways to keep from being caught in the accordion of the closing doors. He caught up quickly and leaned close into Louis' shadow, focusing with what was truly desperate intensity on Cris' words and his own purpose. He did so want to see Sam's little girl. He bit his teeth all the way down, stuck on his temporary badge, and moved close to the window. With no breath to steam a cloud in his way, he peered down at the tiny pink child in the technological wrappings. All the machinery looked incredibly alien to Daniel, and his expression suffused with worry. He shook his head without looking to either side. "Staying. Here. You go."
He really didn't trust himself in there, and if anybody started pushing material ("scrubs" was a modern word he recognized from past experiences) at him from too close, he might lose it entirely. And what if there was some obscure illness he brought with him behind the glass? Not only to Joey, but to the other anonymous but fragile little creatures in their plastic bins. "Very small," he said, in a breathy tone, half to himself, and with fascination and affection.