Creepshow hasn't been seen out of her room since she tried to murder The Fool. A couple of people have gone in and made it out alive, but she has not surfaced.
The man who was Ethan Drake, Declan Riordan, Nolan McTavish, and once more Ethan Drake has been in his room a lot since he woke up from the first lifetime he survived in this place. He's been working on theories, so many theories, with a few moments spared to reconnect with people from past lives. This time, it's the Creepshow's door he raps on. He's in jeans and a lavender-hued button-down shirt with a tie that's been loosened. He looks like a Professor. Go figure.
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" yells Creepshow from her bed. "WHAT?!"
"It's me," the familiar voice comes from the other side. "Ethan, or Nolan, or...whatever you feel like calling me this time around," Pedagogue offers. "Can I come in?" He doesn't flinch at the hollering. He's been around her in the Facility in between several lifetimes and he knows these waters.
"God DAMN it," she grumbles. She's seriously rethinking locking her door, all it does is make her have to keep getting up to unlock it. A moment of muttering passes and the lock pops, then the door opens partially. Creepshow peers up at him from inside.
"What? This really is NOT a good fucking time."
The Pedagogue leans in the doorway, a bottle of dark rum in hand, and a brow arched at the angry face in the opening. "Never is, in this place, is it?" he points out. "Thought you might help me drink this and we can maybe break some things?" he asks. Furniture, bones, you know, things.
Creepshow sighs and rubs her face. "Dude. Don't. Just go be with Lyle or whatever. Two nights ago I tried to kill Oz for hugging me. I'm really not coping well this time and have been locking my door for a fucking reason. I wish SOMEONE would get the hint. I just want to be alone."
"No you don't," Pedagogue states, sticking a foot in the door. "I've been with Lyle. You've been with Bastian. Doesn't mean I love you less, Bella. I've died beside you three times, and watched you die this time, helpless to stop it, and I'm still mourning you. Us. All of us."
Creepshow glowers up at him when he sticks his foot out. "You love me? No. You don't love me, not like him. You've never looked at me in our lives together like that. And hey! I get it! I'm not blaming you or saying it's your fault. You guys found each other again in the story. That's great. Fucking awesome. But don't try to bullshit me and say you love me like that. Besides, love isn't what I need. You can't help me right now, so please move your foot and leave me alone."
That hits hard, and Pedagogue seems really hurt by it. "I was a 21 year old disaster who fell in love with his best friend, and lost him almost as soon as I'd admitted my feelings. Those feelings were strong, but so were the ones Nolan had for Bella. He chose her, in spite of Delia, in spite of family, in spite of knowing he was going to die from the consumption. And he loved her for who she was. Ramona was Declan's dearest confidant, a different kind of love again. But no less important. I'm...I'm sorry you feel you have to be alone. He sets the bottle of rum beside the door and removes his foot. "I think Bastian is good for you. Better than I was at least. I think in all my lives I'm some sort of emotional fuck up. I can know so much about how things work, except myself." He turns and walks down the hall back towards his room.
The hurt her words seem to cause gets mixed reactions from the Creepshow. The monster is pleased to see that she's caused him pain, but Max isn't. Bella and Ramona aren't.
"It's not about what's good for me," she says as he turns to go. "I'm not healthy for ANY of you. I wish I was Max. Or Bella. I really fucking do. But I'm not. Not in here. I've tried. The harder I try to cling to them, to be gentle, to be good, the more the monster pushes me in the other direction. What I want? What I need right now? I can't have. I'm sorry."
Pedagogue flinches a little at her apology, but he nods his head, and continues on his way, leaving the rum behind.
The door closes, the rum left just outside.