Ira followed Silas to another room.
He followed all the way to the other side of the building, where they entered through a white door and he found himself in a typical examination room, if his movies were correct. Ira didn't usually make it a point to pay attention when his Hosts were in the hospital, at least not when it was just a check-up. If it was something more serious, he would look over only to revel in their misery.
He settled down on a sheet covered gurney and waited for Silas to make the first move.
Instead, Silas wandered over to grab some kind of machine.
Ira frowned. "What's that?"
"An ECG machine." Silas answered while pulling it over. There were so many cords, in so many different colors attached to it that Ira almost got confused.
Ira watched as Silas grabbed a packet of something and held it up. Then Silas said, "Pull off your shirt and socks."
Ira rose an eyebrow in amusement, but dd as Silas commanded. He pulled off his shirt and his socks, laying down on the gurney after he was done. Then he observed as Silas stuck small pads — about two centimeters in diameter — on his skin while counting his ribs. The man continued to put them on his wrists and ankles as well.
While Ira tried to figure out what they were for, Silas started messing with the many, many chords, pulling them apart and then attaching them in some particular order he wasn't privy to. First the colorful ones on his chest, and then white chords for his wrists and ankles.
A beep came from the machine, and Silas very dutifully paid attention to it.
Yawning, Ira wondered if the man would be angry with him if he were to fall asleep.
A couple of minutes later, Silas finally stopped staring at the screen and turned back to face Ira. Silas immediately stated, "Everything looks fine."
"You mean I'm not going to turn into a zombie?" Ira frowned at that. He kind of wanted to, just imagine all of the things that he could do. He could take over the entire zombie population and become the Zombie King, he could eat humans to his hearts content, he could find fights wherever he went.
"No."
Silas deadpanned and started pulling out the chords, and then ripping off the cold pads, which barely tickled him. After that, Silas started to use paper to clean the areas the pads had been stuck on, as they were all sticky now.
Ira just laid back and left him to it.
Eventually, he was clean again and Silas stepped back. Silas cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses on his nose.
Ira furrowed his brows in confusion, but nevertheless sat up and watched as a complicated expression that he couldn't decode emerged on Silas's face. Then Silas said, "Wait here."
And then he left.
Ira tilted his head a little, but didn't give it any more thought.
Instead, he took the opportunity to check up on his Host. Currently, she was on the road, headed toward a rumored base. Not the base that Ira was at though, considering that they were on opposite ends of the country.
Which was a blessing.
Because otherwise he would probably be tempted to kill her, as opposed to now, when he just watched her as if she was in a TV show.
It didn't take long for Silas to return.
Ira watched on with half-opened eyes as Silas entered the room and locked the door after himself. There was a black box in his hands, the kind that had a highly advanced biometrics lock plus required a long string of code.
Ira narrowed his eyes a little. "What's that?"
"A vaccine."
Ira rose an eyebrow. "For what?"
Silas put the box down on a desk and started to unlock it while answering, "A particularly vicious case of the flu that has been going around the base. Everyone is getting the vaccine for it."
"Okay." Ira nodded in understanding. That sounded reasonable.
He tended to forget, put his bodies had actually died from the flu before. Many times.
It sucked.
Pulling out a large syringe, Silas approached Ira with it and said, "Pull down your sleeve over your shoulder."
Ira did as he said, watching as the syringe got closer. It was truly very big, and the fluid inside was almost grey. Was that truly what flu vaccine looked like? Must be, but it wasn't like it mattered. If it was some kind of poison, he would just change body's, no big deal.
When the vaccine entered his system, it stung. Ira couldn't resist grimacing at the glaring pain that immediately started emanating from his shoulder.
It almost felt like he had been stabbed.
"Ugh." Ira pulled up his arm — the one that didn't feel like lead — to press his hand over his eyes. Suddenly, his head hurt like an elephant had stepped on it. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to press them back into his skull. Did flu vaccine always hurt this bad?
No wonder so many people were afraid of shots.
Ira leaned over and he vaguely noted that he was about to fall out of the gurney, when he was caught in a pair of strong arms.
Silas was humming.
He could hear it over the loud thumping sound of his heartbeat. Silas was holding him in his arms, repositioning him so that he was sitting in Silas's lap, and humming to him. And despite his expectations, it actually made him feel a little better. Or at least, it gave him something else to focus on.
Actually this was kind of nice. Sitting bundled up in Silas's arms with him humming was a new experience and he found that he liked it.
Maybe he shouldn't turn off his ability to feel pain...
Ira didn't know how much time passed like that — to be more precise, he tuned out his inner clock — and just waited for the pain to pass. Despite the utter agony every single bone in his body was going through, he was feeling quite comfortable. And despite the fact that he must be pretty heavy and that they had been sitting for at least an hour, Silas never once stopped humming to complain.
Finally, the pain started to dissipate.
Ira breathed out deeply and sank deeper into Silas, feeling himself relax even more.
"Are you okay?" Silas's voice broke through the silence, disturbing him from where he was about to fall asleep.
Ira just burrowed deeper into Silas's shoulder. "Mhmm."
He felt Silas grab a hold of his head, and pull it back so that he was forced to look Silas in the eyes. The man was frowning, and he pulled Ira's head in different directions and seemed to be particularly interested in his eyes.
"There doesn't seem to be any complications." he said at last, and his hands changed positions, so that they were framing Ira's face.
Ira's eyelids were still dropping, sleep begging him to come. He watched on with unfocused eyes as Silas bent closer and just rested their foreheads together. What was this? Some kind of human ritual he had never witnessed before?
Regardless, he was still tired. Outside through the window, he could see that night had already fallen.
Ira closed his eyes and leaned his entire weight on Silas, feeling sleep beckoning him.
When he woke up, he was somewhere else.
For the first time in a while, he felt completely safe and utterly encased in warmth. He didn't understand why. Nonetheless, he saw no reason not to take advantage of it and snuggled deeper into the heat, sighing in pleasure when he felt something embrace him in return, only making him warmer.
For the next hour or so, he just dozed, snuggling with the warmth and relaxing. There was not a bone in him that wanted to move. In the end, it was his growling stomach that finally made him open his eyes.
"Mhm?" Ira made a questioning sound as he opened his eyes and found himself laying on a comfortable bed, curled together in the arms of Silas, who was staring at him with an strange look in his eyes. He wasn't wearing his glasses, so Ira got a good look at those dark brown eyes. It felt, somehow, like they were sucking him in.
Silas smiled at him, "Are you hungry?"
"Mhmm." Ira nodded and felt his eyes start slipping close again.
He was just so tired. He wondered why.
"Come on." Silas said and started untangling them from each other and the covers. "I'll make breakfast."
Then Silas slipped out of the bed and left Ira on his own. Ira whined a little in the back of his throat, but obediently wiggled out of the bed himself too. He was, after all, very hungry, having not eaten for almost an entire day. For some reason, nobody had let him eat while in the tank.
He followed after Silas into another room, utterly unconcerned with his nakedness. He figured Silas must have had a good reason for undressing him, but he supposed it was one of those things that had to be asked anyway. Or, at least his Hosts always panicked and demanded answers when they woke up naked somewhere, despite knowing full well what had happened and that it was all their fault. Literally.
"Why am I naked?" Ira asked Silas as they entered the small kitchen.
Silas turned around and his eyes widened behind the glasses he was now wearing again. "Why haven't you gotten dressed?"
"Was I supposed to?" Ira asked, tilting his head to the side and trying to get a good look at the place he was now in. Well, there was nothing wrong with it, so he supposed this would have to do.
Now that he had found Silas, he had no intention of letting go of him again.
He was in the middle of an experiment, after all.
Silas crossed out of the kitchen, over to another room, and came back a few seconds later with a large shirt and a pair of pants. Without wasting any time, he held them out to Ira and demanded, "Put them on."
Ira rose an eyebrow and did as ordered. Right where he stood, because he saw no reason to go anywhere else. Silas made a weird sound and turned around abruptly.
Once Ira was completely dressed, he said to Silas, "I'm finished."
"Good." Silas turned back toward him and nodded in satisfaction when he saw that Ira hadn't lied. Ira wondered if he was supposed to be offended or not. This was another one of those situations where his Hosts always yelled and screamed a lot, and just generally tried to kill anyone that had seen them naked or tried to help them, while yelling "PERVERT!" at the top of their lungs.
Because that was a perfectly reasonable reaction in such a situation. No need to thank the person who helped you, or be grateful or anything.
Let's just go straight for murder.
And enslavement. They did that pretty often too.
Ira was really glad he did not have to actually spend a lot of time around them, and could get away with monitoring them from afar.
Otherwise, he probably would have been fired already.
Silas corrected a button that he had missed, and then apparently deemed him acceptable. After that, Ira was pushed over to the table in the middle of the room and he sat down with a shrug. If he didn't have to cook, that was only an advantage.
Because his cooking sucked. Because he was a system.
Really, that was only to expected.
Systems didn't have to eat like humans did. They had other forms of nourishment.
Silas put a bowl of cereal in front of him, along with a box of cold milk. Ira didn't wait for him to sit down to go straight for it, having the unsettling feeling that his stomach was attempting to eat itself. It was an odd sensation.
Not one that he would ever get used to.