The walls of Mount Massive had much to offer its patients. Space to move around, nurses prepared for most situations, somewhat credible psychiatrists, and the Morphogenic Engine in the secret lab underground. Everything you need to run a semi-functioning asylum. That is until Billy Hope was brought into the hospital. Poor kid. Sold to Murkoff at only 19 years old and already being subjected to the various "tests" in the facility. If they could even be considered that. Trager wasn't even admitted when Billy started talking about him. He wasn't a doctor at the time, just working as an executive while avoiding the higher-ups at all costs. It especially didn't help that Jeremy Blaire, of all people, had directed the attention of said higher-ups right towards Rick when shit went south at Murkoff. The memory of his coworker throwing him into the engine sent a shiver down the man's spine, arms instinctively wrapping around his thin frame as he walked through the medical wing. The sounds of his patients echoed throughout the small area despite most of them being asleep. It reminded the doctor of his time in the engine. Reminded him of Jer's smile while Trager was struggling to free himself, begging for help from his best friend. He shook his head, arms falling back to his sides as Trager continued walking to make sure everyone was where they needed to be. Many of his patients couldn't go anywhere thanks to the nifty straps that kept them from wandering. Once he made sure everyone was alright, Trager began to wander around his domain, not bothering to grab his bone shears. Thankfully, the ones that could walk didn't stray very far. All too afraid of being caught by the variants unfamiliar with the doctor, or worse, Walker. It meant he didn't have to worry.
Speaking of people unfamiliar with Trager, a soft humming could be heard from the direction the man was walking towards. That meant there was a variant up ahead. Strange. Trager hadn't heard much come from this area other than the typical screams of Mount Massive yet this was right up Walker's alley. But he couldn't hum. So who was this mysterious musician? The doctor turned to look over his shoulder, long nails tapping on his forearm as he made sure no one was going to turn the corner before proceeding. As he got closer, Trager could hear the humming get louder. He couldn't recognize the tune, but he had heard of the man currently sitting in front of a sewing machine. Eddie Gluskin. Patient 196 on Murkoff's records if he remembered correctly. Now Rick wouldn't mark himself down as the straightest of men, but he definitely had his fair share of girlfriends before joining the executives. Before meeting Jeremy Blaire. The doctor hadn't even realized he was staring until he was met with bright blue eyes staring right back at him. He was running back down the hall in an instant. Footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors of the Vocational block. The thumping of Gluskin's boots could be heard behind him. Whether he was walking or running, Trager couldn't tell. The doctor could see the signs pointing towards the Male Ward now, but he couldn't go there. It would put his boys in danger. Instead, he took a sharp left into the Administration block, hoping the man behind him wouldn't get curious.
Luckily, Eddie was hellbent on knowing the beautiful form he had seen while working. The Groom hadn't seen anyone like this in his many years of living. Granted, the man running from him was fast. So much so that the man had to quicken his pace, careful not to scare off the other even more. It would be a shame to lose someone so intriguing. Eddie's pace slowed as the figure turned a corner, a small smile growing on his chapped lips. A dead end. Perfect, for the Groom. As he neared the runner Eddie noticed he was only wearing a curtain that was loosely tied around his hips and a surgical mask. No uniform or shoes to grace his figure. Which meant the patient either chose these clothes willingly or-
"You just gonna stare, buddy?" A voice rose from the darkness, breaking the Groom out of his thoughts. He hadn't realized that the figure had turned to face him, back leaning against the wall while a single eye scanned for an escape. Eddie shook his head, eyes shifting to the arms crossed over the other man's waist. An intricate tangle of IV tubing was wrapped around the upper part of his left arm, a butterfly needle crudely lodged into his vein. The state the patient was in was… shocking to say the least. Eddie hadn't seen anyone this contorted by the Engine. He cleared his throat, hand extending towards the figure in the dark. Long nails touched his fingers before the hand followed, enveloping his own before the figure stepped out from the shadows.
"My apologies if I frightened you, I didn't mean to darling," The Groom placed a gentle kiss on the hand before it was pulled away, moving back to its place on the side of the other's waist. Trager looked around as if off-put by the man, not knowing where or when to run without endangering. Not the best situation he could have put himself in, but at least the doctor was alive. He would have to get back to his patients soon if he wanted to keep all of them in the Medical Wing. Eddie extended his hand again, a soft smile present on his face. Rick recognized that smile. The doctor took the hand before he could register where he remembered the expression and was being guided back to the Vocational Block.
"Ah, sorry to say buddy, but I got people to take care of on my side of the hospital. Can't stay here much longer." Wrong choice of words. The hand holding his suddenly stiffened as if it had been struck. Then it clicked. He knew that smile from Jeremy. Trager made a dash for the Male Ward in an instant, legs carrying him as fast as they could. Something about the man in the Vocational Block seemed… off. Voice too calm. Sentences too structured, as if he was carefully picking his words. Eyes unnaturally blue, but maybe that was just because Trager had found himself staring at them. The doctor ran until he was safely in the elevator up to his domain. He crossed his arms over his waist, holding his sides tightly. He was shaking. Why was he shaking? Must have been the run. Unless it didn't start at the run. Maybe at the- Trager's thoughts were broken by a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders, the familiar smell of smoke filling the small space as his own arms lifted to tightly wrap around the figure's back. A smile graced his lips as Trager's shaking subsided, once again feeling calm. Eddie, on the other hand, had never felt more alone while humming a familiar song.