Some days in the facility floated by like a breeze; others left Gideon beaten bloody.
Today was the latter, his trainer sentencing him to the gym where he was pushed to do various bullshit workouts, as if Gideon needed any help with strength. The only thing he would gain from today would be sore muscles and this residual attitude - Gideon swore if he had to spend another minute in that gym, he would throw a weight bench across the room. Few things pissed him off more than wasted time.
Luckily, his trainer had decided that Gideon was “properly exercised” for the day - he was let out ten minutes early for lunch. So excited to leave his training, he hadn’t bothered to change clothes, still in his workout gear: the only pair of shorts he owned, leaving his prosthetic exposed for everyone to see. It was the only time Gideon allowed it.
Gideon was practically skipping down the hall -- macaroni and cheese for lunch today, extra cheesy, the way he’d eaten it as a kid. He and Fionn had their weekly gossip session over a steaming bowl, secluded in the same corner of the cafeteria they’d first met in. He couldn’t wait to tell him what the trainer had the nerve to say to him, that he was too ---
He froze, fairly certain he’d just heard a groan.
“Hello?” Gideon called down the hallway - but no answer. He walked tentatively towards the staircase.
It only took an additional step before he saw her: Femke, face down, paler than he’d ever seen her and moaning profanities.
“Oh my god -- oh my god, Fem!” Gideon shouted, rushing down the steps she slipped on. He tucked down to her side, worried, although hesitant in how could he help. She left his room pissed just a few days ago - he was convinced she’d never speak to him again. But now, she had no choice.
He took hold of her arm, carefully rolling her onto her side. “Fem...can you hear me?”
