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Hearing that Elke had managed to get into the hospital had been unpleasant, to say the least. This was partially because he had learned it through his roommates (who had heard it from a guy who had an elaborate social network for the express purpose of obsessively tracking the who-and-when of Crystal girls getting into the hospital, God knew why), but it was mostly because it was the first time he'd heard of any senshi he knew landing themselves in the hospital.

So he knew, without need for details his sources wouldn't have been able to provide, what had happened. It had been a crippling blow to have his face thrust into the seriousness of the war he'd been inadvertently roped into -- and it showed on his face when he walked in, features creased and taut with worry. He had a something-or-other clutched in his hands, clumsily wrapped in the funnies section of the local newspaper. A gift. He hoped it was okay to bring one. The staff hadn't seemed to mind, anyway.

Upon being allowed inside, he mumbled out a hello (was he talking too loud? too quiet?) and stood for a moment before shuffling inside. Hospitals were an uncomfortable place to be in, he decided. Simon had no idea how close he should be standing, or if he could sit in that little chair by the bed, or--

"Are you f-f-feeling okay?" he asked, chewing at his lip. And then, chasing against the heels of his own question mark: "I'm sorry, that's n-n-not a good question, you're... here, aren't you, I mean -- it's good if you are, but -- umm." He paused, took a step closer. "Are you f-feeling b-better, at least?"

Being cheerful in a hospital was something of a difficulty, they were just naturally tense, somber places. Making too much noise or smiling too much felt like some sort of crime unless you were in a maternity ward; this was a minefield of obscured and invisible boundaries for someone like Simon Ferris, who already felt hesitant enough about empty benches at the city park. Elke could have been here for an appendectomy and he probably still would have looked kind of unhappy.

As it were, knowing well the circumstances behind Elke's hospitalization and how they were something less benevolent than a routine surgery -- he sat down in the chair, arms limp over his legs for a moment, looking at Elke and chewing at his lip and looking sad.

Then he shifted around a bit in the seat, quietly, not seeming intent on answering her questions. He just looked at her some more -- bottle-green eyes canting to the side for just a second before dipping back up again -- and then he'd leaned forward, carefully, and gently pulled Elke's sitting form into a hug, trying to be mindful of her injuries.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry you have to be here."

Elke seemed to have no problems with beaming at Simon, hospital or not. It was nice to see her friends, especially the ones she didn't get to patrol with all that often. Then, too, she was a naturally peppy person. All smiles, all the time. Yup.

She watched him for a few seconds, and brightened up when he hugged her. "It's okay," she said, patting his back. "Really, I'm fine!" She would be. So it wasn't a lie.

The door slammed open right as she was going to repeat her question about schooling for Simon, and instead of How are your classes? there was instead a breathless squeak as she buried her face in his shoulder. There was a guy in the door and he was tall and scary and-- And apparently he was Castor? She peered over Simon's shoulder, face flushed. Now that she was looking, she could see how the guy did look like Castor. Their hair was the same color and they had the same color eyes. Reassured by the similarities, she hesitantly let go of Simon and smiled at... Castor.

"I don't know your name," she said, hoping this would help avert the 'who hurt you' questions. She did not want her friends getting hurt.

He didn't wait. Pulling a chair from the side, he sat nest to Simon, no bro grabbing involved. Yet. "Sorry." He groaned. "All I got was that 'Virgo is in the hospital, here is her room number'. Thought I should come by and just...God, who beat on you? I mean REALLY." A glance at Simon.

He was pulled into a brograb, forcing him to lean into the shorted boy. "Can you image someone who would hurt her Simon? I mean look at her!" Chin was grabbed and directed. "You just can't." Then Simon was let go. Elzo might have been serious, but apparently this did not mean it would end bro grabs.

"Elke...You okay though? Nothing serious. And you can tell me who did this." His face was serious again. "Because I will kick their a** for this."

Simon dealt with Elzo's manhandling, as per the usual, with no struggle or protest, and there were two main reasons for this. The first was that he honestly didn't expect that he could respond in any way that would make Elzo back off. The second, however, was that he held some genuine respect for him and how he once had the guts to sock Jesse Alvarez in the kidneys after witnessing him trying to fold Simon into a locker. You just didn't push away someone who was willing to do that for you.

Especially against Jesse Alvarez.

When Elke mentioned 'a boy with dreadlocks,' the first image Simon conjured up was that of Khaldun Cilentani from school -- but then he couldn't imagine a circumstance in which she would actually meet Cilentani, and then Elke was making a stony pursed face and a discreet saluting motion with one hand -- oh. Negaverse. Negaversers put senshi in hospitals. That seemed about right.

"That's, er... that's b-because we're not," replied Simon, a little uncomfortable. "We just, er. Um."

And then his mouth clamped incriminatingly shut.

She nodded, watching the two of them. Simon's face lit up with understanding at her gesture, which was good. And then there was his assertion that they weren't brothers--but what were they? She tilted her head a little.

"You just," she prompted, just in time for Elzo's even louder assertion. "Yes. That's what I said, you don't look like brothers?" Was there a difference between 'bro' and 'brother'? She sighed when he kept talking, and then perked up a little bit. "Cookies," she said wistfully, and then she shook her head like she was shocked at herself. "I'm actually not supposed to eat anything but bland foods."

This she said very sadly, with a tone of great disappointment. Cookies were good food, but not very bland. Not if they were made right. "Simon, they said I can't have curry at all for three weeks!" It was a little sad how depressed her expression became at this pronouncement.