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⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
MARC GROANED AS HE CAME to it. His eyes opening and immediately squinting due to the brightness of the room. He could hear an unfamiliar voice, calling out Bingo numbers and a quiet movie playing in the background. But nothing felt familiar. It all felt too strange and unnatural. Especially when the last thing he remembered was being shot.
Shot.
His eyes flew open.
Hands reaching out to feel his chest. But he couldn't feel any bullet wounds. In fact, he didn't feel anything he expected to feel.
No blood. No wounds. No water. Not even the feeling of the hoodie and overcoat he wore.
He looked down at himself. Furrowing his brows when he spotted the light coloured sweater and matching pants. He felt even more confused when he realised he was sitting in a wheelchair. His mind hurting as he tried to figure out where he was.
"Venus..." Marc mumbled. Her name sounding like a prayer on his tongue. He tried his hardest to remember what had happened to her before he passed out.
His eyes widening slightly when he remembered the broken look in her eyes when she saw him get shot. He remembered that she too got shot. He remembered the kiss. The look on her face. Her dark hair that was falling out of her buns when he last looked at her. Her dark eyes that hypnotised him. Her soft lips that felt like clouds when they connected with his. Where was she?
Looking up at the room. His wide eyes trying to take it all in.
It was a large room. One that looked like a communal area in a psych ward. All the walls and floor was white tile, making the room feel enormous. There was a handful of people in there. All of them wearing similar outfits to himself, with the exception of slightly different dull shades of sweaters.
He saw one man calling out Bingo numbers to a small handful of people gathered around a table in front of him. There was a woman in the corner, furiously sketching something on a sheet of paper. A man – clearly a worker there – stood in front of a table full of pills, his dark eyes scanning the room. A couple of people were seated on a sofa in front of the TV. Another man he also assumed to be a worker, was driving around a cart with the most perfect looking cupcakes on top, handing them to the patients scattered around the room.
Was he dead? Was this the afterlife? Hell? Heaven? Marc couldn't help the thoughts as they raced through his mind, making his head feel like it was caving in on itself. Where was Venus? Was her not being there meant that she was alive?
A ginger haired man with a large matching beard, that was slowly but surely turning grey, suddenly came into view, squatting down to look Marc in the eyes, "Right, young man. Breaks are on. Your favourite spot," He sent him a friendly smile before straightening himself back up and walking away.
"N-39," The Bingo host called out, "N-39."
"I changed the movie," Layla suddenly appeared in his vision, his eyes widening in confusion. She wore a full white outfit like him. Her hair was in messy curls and her eyes were accompanied by the large bags underneath them, "It's been five times this week. It's a lot. Right?"
Marc let out a groan.
No words were willing to leave his lips.
Layla's eyes widened as she came to stand in front of him, munching on a white marshmallow, "Did I startle you? Oh, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"I-2. I-2. Anyone? Check your score cards."
"Look at that.." She said, spotting the Bingo sheet in his lap, a grin forming on her lips as Marc watched her, utter confusion running through his veins. His limbs suddenly feeling too heavy to move, "You won," She grinned and moved away from him, holding the sheet up towards the Bingo host.
"Looks like we've got a winner."
"I won," Layla nodded, she glanced back at Marc, "I'll share it with you, this time. I swear," She whispered before skipping away over to the Bingo host.
Marc looked back ahead of him. Noticing his own reflection staring right back at him. He looked exhausted, his head lolling to the side without his consent, "Steven?" He asked. But he didn't get a response, "Steven?" He asked again, this time his voice filling with panic. His chest began to rise heavily as he began to hyperventilate, not understanding what was happening to him. He was alone. No Venus. No Steven, "Steven?" He asked, standing up.
But as soon as he tried to take a step forward, he fell to the ground. Groaning in pain and spotting a small figure beside him that he hadn't even realised was gripped in his hand and fell upon his impact with the floor. His brows furrowing. It was a Moon Knight figure. His version of the suit.
He glanced up, spotting something attaching his ankle to the side of the wheelchair as the ginger haired man from earlier rushed over. He instantly began to help Marc back up. Talking to him about how it was time for his therapy now. Marc just stared at him, his mouth agape, trying to come up with the right question but he couldn't bring his thoughts together.
As he was wheeled away, his eyes suddenly widened when he spotted a woman standing in the corner of the room.
She looked different than the rest.
Like she was out of place.
She was glowing. Figuratively and literally.
A bright, yellow light was surrounding her. Making her look like an angel.
She wore a long white gown, with an intricate design on it. A large scarab necklace was resting on her collarbone. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in an intricate braid that went down the length of her spine. On her head, rested a golden vulture crown. Sparkling underneath her light.
He couldn't help but see his Venus when he looked at the woman's face. She just looked too familiar. Her presence gave Marc some peace in the midst of the chaos that he felt as he was wheeled out of the room.
"Venus..." He muttered.
"Yes, yes," The bearded man nodded, "We know that's your favourite planet. You can look at pictures of it after your session."
Marc didn't respond. He watched as the glowing woman as she gave him the slightest nod of her head. It was so tiny that if he hadn't been watching her like a hawk, he surely would've missed it. His gaze only broke when he was out of the room and in the long, white hallways.
