Assignments on Deus were something you couldn't really predict, missions showed up without warning, a lot like the monsters that swooped in and wrecked things or the chaos that descended on the most mundane activities at short notice. Lawrence hadn't really been in the mood for actual work in late January when he'd been told that it was time for him to head out and do it, and he'd been all grudging acceptance of his fate after he'd exhausted every possible avenue to wheedle out of it. He didn't have enough favours to cash in to get anyone else to do it for him. Leaving Rodney was the hardest part, and knowing that Rodney would be left alone to look after the boys made him deeply concerned.
But he'd gone, because he'd sworn to try his best at whatever he was tasked to do, wether that was working on the golems or doing more minor duties on and around the island itself.
He hadn't really been expecting it to be a four star hotel, but when he'd arrived to the looming - and very derelict - building in what turned out to be a rather desolate part of the former soviet union, in a place where no one spoke a word of English, he realised just how bad it was going to be. There were a few bilingual hunters at the post, but most didn't attempt to say much to him, likely assuming that he was simply fodder for what they were studying.
The building had turned out to be a large empty mental institution, one which was completely beset by the paranormal, with a basement which was almost completely inaccessable at specific times of the day. He helped work in their infirmary, and when there was need of it, was sent out into the building itself into harm's way. He didn't get away with slacking, his grim faced and hard working teammates making sure that he didn't get a damn moment of his own time to himself. He didn't get to sleep with anyone, he didn't get to eat good food and found himself existing in a state of grim resignation to his fate, sleeping wherever he could and working whenever he was told.
The time was simultaneously slow and tedious and blurred together in a blob of unrest. Being located where it was, it was always bitterly, bitterly cold, and more often than not sleep was hampered just by being so cold one felt one might die. Phone reception had been almost non-existent and he'd found himself wondering if anyone was even still on the island or if they'd all gone, if he was alone in the world with only cold distant hunters for company for ever.
But still he'd worked and he'd worked, and when finally word came that he could return to the island one slightly sunnier than usual late April morning, he'd gathered up his things in a heartbeat and made his way to the portal to go back to the island to be replaced by some other incredibly unfortunate hunter.
He wasn't one for emotions, but when the island's sunlight hit his skin again, he felt like he could understand why people cried when they came home from long journeys. He looked older, his body lean and surprisingly healthy from hard work and basic meals, his hair brushed but obviously hadn't been cut in months, his roots far more silvery in places than his pale blonde normally was.
He took out his phone immediately and texted Rodney.
Quote:
I'm home.
