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Idly, Grim wondered if the carpet beneath his feet was actually beige instead of the mucus green muddled color it was. A milkshake of stains and colors. He had been in apartments like these a couple times before and they were all unpleasant. It was no wonder people couldn’t pull themselves out of poverty when their conditions were like this, long before they were ever here and never fixed.

Zoey made a mental note to check on affordable housing initiatives her family could get into.

It didn’t take long to get to Joel’s actual apartment which was [i]maybe[/i] two steps above the rest. The shadowmancer idly pulled at a piece of peeling wallpaper to peer at the wood, tapping it with a finger. Was this building full of asbestos? Might explain a bit more about Wraith, who was talking nearby.

All at once, Grim stiffened.

He turned on his heel to come further into the room, peering over Wraith’s shoulder at the file he held. There, plain as day, was the file corroborating Joel’s words. Doctor Ellison of Nothwestern Memorial.

Fuck.

“I’ve been.” Grim withdrew to give the other man space, tapping his foot against the floor in agitation to avoid pacing. When Joel offered the chance to wash the burn, he took it if only to have a moment to himself, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door. The motions were all automatic. Unwrapping his hand, washing it out, digging out the surprisingly well stocked first aid kit to apply burn cream and gauze. Just for something to do to keep his whirring mind occupied, Grim repeated it on the burn around his knee then stuffed the remains of his glove in a pocket.

It would be extremely difficult, if not outright impossible to keep Wraith away from Northwestern. Not that Grim particularly [i]blamed[/i] him, but it would likely get extremely messy. However, even that took a backburner to the further, concrete reveal that the hospital was definitely host to more than just body snatching. How? Why Northwestern? Did her father-

Zoey paused, clenching the first of her unburned hand. No. Her father would’ve never allowed anything like that to happen while he was around. He was extremely protective of his patients.

So this happened under her watch.

The bandaged hand pressed against her mask as she breathed deeply, the hard press of her mask’s edges digging in a helpful grounder. Count to ten. Finally, after taking a deep breath that rumbled through Zoey’s chest and out Grim’s voice modulator in a low growl, the hero straightened up. He replaced the contents of the first aid box and put it back before leaving the bathroom. 

In the kitchen, Grim took the coffee pot just to pause and examine it. How clean was this? Ugh, he didn’t even care right now. Grabbing a random cup he poured it and turned back to the file, making an unhappy noise in the back of his throat.

“I think you should let me investigate the hospital.” He finally called out bluntly to Wraith, raising the coffee to take a sip. It bumped against his mask. God damnit.