quicklog: lin a, louis d, zatanna z, neil d] Who: Lin and Louis, with Zatanna and Neil on the way What: To catch a Louis Where: Neil's place at the Venetian When: Tonight Warnings/Rating: None
[Louis entered the hallway to cross from DC to Vegas unafraid, thinking only of seeing Lin.
He had forgotten what it would be like. It was difficult to know what, if anything, he remembered over the past few days. He thought he was in Marvel when he found himself on a side street, but the lack of snow drifts or identifiable New York landmarks helped him put it together. How had he come to be in DC? There was a slow, cold chill of fear, and then nothing. He couldn't remember why. Not remembering, though, was starting to become normal. All the meddling with his thought patterns had made them begin to accept that he wouldn't always remember every part of every day. That it was nothing to worry about.
He wanted to see Lin. It had been such a long time. A quiet evening in, that was what he needed. It was absolutely freezing on the street, and his clothes were wet.
His clothes were wet?
He must have fallen into a snowdrift along the way.
The grey confusion he felt all the time now would have been impossible for him to articulate, generated, as it was, by the dissonance between memory and reality, between worrying and having those concerns immediately smoothed out and disregarded. He couldn't fear what he didn't remember, and he couldn't remember anything. He had wanted to see Sam, he had a recollection of that, but, then, nothing. Did he have work today? No, whispered another thought, filling in another inconvenient gap, no, it was Saturday, no work today. Of course it was. Anything that made sense felt like a balm.
The trip through the hotel seemed worse this time, somehow. Just like every other time, he wondered how he could have forgotten how desperately dangerous it was to be there. How cold, how agonizing, how much his skin was ready to split and roll back from his bones like peeling paint.
Then he half-stumbled through the door into Vegas, and the feeling evaporated. There was a moment where that deathly pallor was still visible in his cheeks, eyes bloodshot with broken veins, and then it was gone again. He was simply flushed and red, chapped from the cold, dark circles ringing his eyes. His hair was still wet. Maybe Lin would let him sleep on the couch while he watched a movie. Maybe he could sleep, curled up with his friend.
He shut the door behind him, grateful to be somewhere warm and in good company, the pain and the panic a swiftly fading thought. Another panic attack? How embarrassing.
But he found himself looking at the doorknob, gleaming and bright, then the plants on either side of the entryway, then the height of the ceiling overhead. This wasn't right.
He turned, looked behind him, and stared. This wasnt an apartment. Was this a hotel room? Where were they?]