His own little piece of the pie (Razvan, Evan)
Sep. 14th, 2011 07:35 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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darker_londonHaving his own home that he shared with people he actually liked (though if you asked, he would just say he tolerated them) didn't mean he didn't return to the hospital often, seeking company he didn't have to hide from. Nova was the person he visited the most often, but since their relationship was casual and would always remain so, he didn't visit her exclusively.
Sometimes he spent time with Caoilfhionn, the red-headed Irish demon whom Razvan had taken under his wing, so to speak. She was annoying and asked incessant questions about ridiculous things, but Razvan found he was able to tolerate her presence anyway.
And sometimes he visited Evan, the demon who had been transferred to RMMH because Peter had met him years ago when Evan was still a young boy. Evan didn't speak much and he hadn't matured beyond the mindset of a child. He had witnessed his demon mother killing his father in front of him and then he had been the focus of her aggressions as she tried in vain to kill him, which was why he had entered a mental institution at age seven. When his own wings that looked like his mother's had sprouted, he had refused to speak, believing them to be a curse from God. It wasn't until Peter returned to him three years ago and explained what being a demon meant that he said a word to anyone. And generally his words were reserved for Peter.
Razvan had an empathy for Evan that he dared not explain to anyone else. His own mother had left and Razvan had been raised as an angel like his father was, only to find later that he was, in fact, a demon. To find out his wings were black instead of white had been a terrible shock to him. He could sympathise. And no one called Razvan sympathetic really. And they weren't generally wrong.
"Hello, Evan," Razvan said, letting himself into Evan's locked room. Evan looked up from his book, a much-loved copy of Where the Wild Things Are, and he smiled shyly at Razvan.
"I brought you Aero," Razvan said, pulling the chocolate out of his pocket. "They only had mint, is that okay?"
Evan nodded, taking the confection eagerly. He unwrapped it carefully and took a big bite and swallowed before he said, "thank you," in what was barely even a whisper.
"Feeling quiet today?" Razvan asked, leaning up against the door. Evan nodded and continued to eat his chocolate bar. "But you're alright?" Evan nodded again.
"Is it okay that I'm here? I can go-"
At that, Evan's eyes snapped up and he shook his head vehemently. "Okay, okay!" Razvan reassured him. "I'll stay here. Finish your indulgence."
Evan did just that and then he leaned against the wall from his spot on the bed and he crossed his legs. Taking several deep breaths, he said, "Abby says I should talk."
Razvan thought Abby was a bossy bitch sometimes, but he had a lot of respect for her and the work she did. So he couldn't make a snarky comment about her like he really wanted to. Especially since he had no desire to undermine any one's work with Evan, which he thought was a remarkable sign of his growth and he intended on telling any one who would listen later. "I think that's a good idea," Razvan replied. "I'll listen to anything you want to say. I like hearing your voice."
Evan shrugged. "Nothing's important."
"Bollocks," Razvan hissed. "You have just as much right to speak as everyone in this hospital. And maybe more in some cases." Amaris.
Evan chewed on his lip and he looked down at his hands, lacing and unlacing them together. "I don't want to hurt no one."
"That's good, Evan."
"I want to be good like you."
"Well don't go too far," Razvan said flatly. He didn't like being described as good. "You can be neutral like me."
Evan nodded and then he looked shyly up at Razvan. "Can I wear your hat?"
"Can you wear my-?" Razvan supposed a request to don his head apparel was hardly out of place. His bowler hat was the perfectly wonderful accessory. "Oh all right. Tell no one." He walked over to Evan and plopped the hat into his head and Evan beamed.
"I'm Razvan!" he said excitedly.
"Yeah well, good luck with that one, mate," Razvan said, taking a seat beside Evan on the bed. The other demon was making progress and becoming less predictable. Time was he would sprout his wings the second someone stepped in the door and hiss at them dangerously until they left. Maybe one day he would even be able to move out of the secure wing to the residential ward. Razvan hoped so. Peter was good at rehabilitation and teaching demons they didn't have to be homicidal maniacs even if they lacked inhibitions. He had done it for Razvan, after all. He liked to think he was having a little part in what Peter was doing.
"Okay, that's enough time now, give me back my hat," and Razvan snatched it back from Evan.
He was, of course, only having a little part to do with it. He was still Razvan, after all.
Sometimes he spent time with Caoilfhionn, the red-headed Irish demon whom Razvan had taken under his wing, so to speak. She was annoying and asked incessant questions about ridiculous things, but Razvan found he was able to tolerate her presence anyway.
And sometimes he visited Evan, the demon who had been transferred to RMMH because Peter had met him years ago when Evan was still a young boy. Evan didn't speak much and he hadn't matured beyond the mindset of a child. He had witnessed his demon mother killing his father in front of him and then he had been the focus of her aggressions as she tried in vain to kill him, which was why he had entered a mental institution at age seven. When his own wings that looked like his mother's had sprouted, he had refused to speak, believing them to be a curse from God. It wasn't until Peter returned to him three years ago and explained what being a demon meant that he said a word to anyone. And generally his words were reserved for Peter.
Razvan had an empathy for Evan that he dared not explain to anyone else. His own mother had left and Razvan had been raised as an angel like his father was, only to find later that he was, in fact, a demon. To find out his wings were black instead of white had been a terrible shock to him. He could sympathise. And no one called Razvan sympathetic really. And they weren't generally wrong.
"Hello, Evan," Razvan said, letting himself into Evan's locked room. Evan looked up from his book, a much-loved copy of Where the Wild Things Are, and he smiled shyly at Razvan.
"I brought you Aero," Razvan said, pulling the chocolate out of his pocket. "They only had mint, is that okay?"
Evan nodded, taking the confection eagerly. He unwrapped it carefully and took a big bite and swallowed before he said, "thank you," in what was barely even a whisper.
"Feeling quiet today?" Razvan asked, leaning up against the door. Evan nodded and continued to eat his chocolate bar. "But you're alright?" Evan nodded again.
"Is it okay that I'm here? I can go-"
At that, Evan's eyes snapped up and he shook his head vehemently. "Okay, okay!" Razvan reassured him. "I'll stay here. Finish your indulgence."
Evan did just that and then he leaned against the wall from his spot on the bed and he crossed his legs. Taking several deep breaths, he said, "Abby says I should talk."
Razvan thought Abby was a bossy bitch sometimes, but he had a lot of respect for her and the work she did. So he couldn't make a snarky comment about her like he really wanted to. Especially since he had no desire to undermine any one's work with Evan, which he thought was a remarkable sign of his growth and he intended on telling any one who would listen later. "I think that's a good idea," Razvan replied. "I'll listen to anything you want to say. I like hearing your voice."
Evan shrugged. "Nothing's important."
"Bollocks," Razvan hissed. "You have just as much right to speak as everyone in this hospital. And maybe more in some cases." Amaris.
Evan chewed on his lip and he looked down at his hands, lacing and unlacing them together. "I don't want to hurt no one."
"That's good, Evan."
"I want to be good like you."
"Well don't go too far," Razvan said flatly. He didn't like being described as good. "You can be neutral like me."
Evan nodded and then he looked shyly up at Razvan. "Can I wear your hat?"
"Can you wear my-?" Razvan supposed a request to don his head apparel was hardly out of place. His bowler hat was the perfectly wonderful accessory. "Oh all right. Tell no one." He walked over to Evan and plopped the hat into his head and Evan beamed.
"I'm Razvan!" he said excitedly.
"Yeah well, good luck with that one, mate," Razvan said, taking a seat beside Evan on the bed. The other demon was making progress and becoming less predictable. Time was he would sprout his wings the second someone stepped in the door and hiss at them dangerously until they left. Maybe one day he would even be able to move out of the secure wing to the residential ward. Razvan hoped so. Peter was good at rehabilitation and teaching demons they didn't have to be homicidal maniacs even if they lacked inhibitions. He had done it for Razvan, after all. He liked to think he was having a little part in what Peter was doing.
"Okay, that's enough time now, give me back my hat," and Razvan snatched it back from Evan.
He was, of course, only having a little part to do with it. He was still Razvan, after all.
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