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He'd been to his wonder enough for the advice about navigating it to come immediately. "Don't go that direction. Or that one." Imhotep gestured accordingly as they crossed into the lobby of the hospital. This was where he was normally deposited when he arrived. Maybe his Code piece had been right around the corner this whole time, who knew? Either way, "that way is the operating theater. There are gurneys blocking most of it. That way is the morgue. There are still dead bodies there."

He didn't want to be in the morgue himself, much less take anyone there with him. If his Code piece was there, he was going to riot--

As if responding to this thought, a path lit up ahead of him. It was not leading toward the morgue, thank ********. Instead, it was leading toward the stairs. Wonderful. He had yet to explore any of the other levels. It had been quite arduous enough to start the process of cleaning up just this level. Judging by the maps on the walls, the hospital campus was huge. This was just one building of it, but it seemed to be one of the biggest buildings.

He supposed it was only logical that the Code piece was here, then. Somewhere.

"Let's not dally. This way." He strode for the stairs immediately. Behind him, Emain Ablach and Amoris exchanged a look between themselves and a glance toward Promethei. There was no sense of reverence in Imhotep for his wonder. If anything, he seemed on edge. The door to the stairwell bounced off the wall with a racket as Imhotep used more force than was perhaps necessary to open it and push past without hesitation.

"Well. This'll be quick, I guess." Emain Ablach's cheeks puffed up as he blew out a slow stream of air. "We better hurry up before we get left behind." Amoris was already moving, picking his way around fallen ceiling tiles and collapsed wall sections to get to the stairwell Imhotep had disappeared through.

"Last one there has to do all the laundry for a week!" Amoris called before he, too, disappeared up the stairs. Emain Ablach muttered something impolite and hurried to follow.

"Then strut faster!" No one was waiting for Promethei.

Least of all, Imhotep.

In fact, Imhotep had climbed one, two, flights of stairs and was working on his third. It was miraculous that the stairs weren't obstructed by more than the occasional debris. It made following the glowing path a simple matter. A fourth flight of stairs, and Imhotep had been forced to start taking them at a slower pace. He was no athlete, increased endurance from being a knight or no. But, finally, the glowing path stopped directing him up the stairs, and he threw open another door with some degree of gratefulness for that fact.

This hallway was curiously devoid of wreckage. It was curiously devoid of most things, actually. The lit path stretched on in front of him, and he broke into a run just as Tobias and Emain Ablach joined him at the top of the stairs. "Oh come on!" was Emain Ablach's entirely nonserious gripe as the two of them had to take off running after Imhotep.

Imhotep followed that glowing path until it brought him, panting and out of breath, to a set of closed double doors. He tried them, but they remained stubbornly locked. Imhotep was about to look around for something to break the door down when he saw what looked like a keypad to the side of the door. Though, it had no keys or buttons of any kind.

He frowned and reached for it, gratified when resting his palm against the cool surface caused a beep and the sound of something unlatching inside the doors. This time, when he pushed on them, they creaked open. He coughed as the doors stirred up dust that was who-knew-how-many centuries old, but didn't let that stop him from stepping through and looking around. He didn't have to look far.

Among what looked like solid wood furniture adorned with fluffy cushions and a plush carpet covering every inch except near a dormant fireplace, was a glass case. In fact, it was behind the impressively large desk. But what was more eye-catching than the desk was what was in the case. A glowing ball of light spun slowly, casting rainbows against the walls through the glass it was behind.

Imhotep started for it immediately. He knew what that was, and he didn't even need the glowing path leading straight to it to tell him that.

"Well, that was easier than I expected," Emain Ablach murmured as the rest of them caught up to Imhotep. "It's right there, out in the open."

"Well, someone would have to get all the way here to get to it," Amoris pointed out, looking behind them at the way they'd come. "I didn't exactly see an elevator to get us here, so..."

"I don't think it was reading my hand." Imhotep looked back toward the door. At least, not his handprint. That wouldn't make any sense, would it? But then, what was it reading?

That was a problem for another time. Right now, he had to figure out how to get into the case, because--no--he didn't think he could meditate on the piece of Code without directly touching it. He searched it for a seam or anything of the sort, but came up empty. No hidden buttons for a latch, either, that he could see--

"Try picking it up?" came Amoris' suggestion, with Emain Ablach murmuring concurrence. Imhotep looked to them, then back at the glass case. ...That was fair. He hadn't tried just lifting the glass up to see if it came off of the display stand. Imhotep grasped it firmly with both hands and lifted.

And, lo and behold, it lifted. It was heavy, very heavy, but it lifted. Carefully, he picked up the glass and put the glass on a table nearby so that it couldn't fall and shatter. Then, he turned back to the glowing orb. It was warm to the touch, which surprised him given the ice everywhere else. But it was comfortably warm, and its spinning and glow intensified as soon as Imhotep picked it up. He took that as a good sign, glancing back over his shoulder at the other three. Amoris gave him an enthusiastic nod, and Emain Ablach gave him a thumbs up.

He turned his attention back to what he was holding, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and letting it out very slowly as he focused on the weight and warmth of the Code piece in his hands. At first, nothing. Then he felt what seemed to be a breeze and opened his eyes.

-----------

"If you insist on meeting me like this, people are going to talk."

Knives and forks clinked against plates. Bekou looked up at his husband opposite him, watching him impassively for a long moment. When said husband didn't relent and instead kept staring at him expectantly, Bekou sighed and went back to his food.

"We're literally married, Felix."

"And they're going to talk about it. Anyway. How are your students' practicals coming?"

Bekou chewed thoughtfully on his lunch. "Some of them are a little more squeamish than they previously thought, but they're doing well overall." How they had managed to get through all of the preliminary classwork and anatomy courses to get to that point without working through their nausea, he wasn't sure, but so far none of them were quitting. That was better than typical for the first few rounds of new graduates on rotation. "Only one threw up when working with recent cadavers."

"Only one? That's got to be a record."

"They have promise." Bekou's tone was mild, but he was proud of the newest lot of students so far. They were eager learners, easy to teach and attentive. It was, perhaps, unorthodox that the director of the hospital taught students directly, but Bekou had always wanted a more hands-on approach with his organization. Besides, it kept him from being an enigmatic face at the top, kept the doctors under him from being intimidated at the idea of coming to him with their concerns and questions. He never turned down an honest desire for his expertise. "And your new underclassmen?"

"I wish I could say they all have promise. Some are definitely just there to fill a requirement." Felix sighed melodramatically. "No passion for the subject at all." Bekou snorted, putting another bite of food in his mouth and chewing.

When he swallowed, Bekou responded, "not everyone can be a star scientist."

"Yes, but would it be too much to ask for enthusiasm about the process?"

"You have enough enthusiasm for ten of them, Felix."

"You know, that's what I love about you. You say these wonderful, true things." Felix waggled his fork at Bekou before taking another bite of his own. That earned a sensible chuckle.

"Sure, Felix."

----------

'Sure, Felix' still rang in Imhotep's ears when he came back to the present and opened his eyes for real, this time. He watched as the others' eyes also opened with varying levels of drowsiness. They were certainly all getting their nap time in with this--

"His memory was of the two of you, and so was yours?" Emain Ablach's hand waggled. "Y'all are going to make me sick, I swear." Amoris swatted him gently, earning a laugh. "What? All this saccharine bullsh--"

"You're eating it up--don't even try to lie and say you're not." There was a note of smugness in Amoris' voice, but it was deserved, and Emain Ablach didn't take offense to it. Instead, he just dramatically rolled his eyes and huffed with mock indignation. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"You're mean to me."

"Oh please."

"So everyone saw that, then? Like before?" Imhotep looked between them, his gaze lingering on Promethei.

"Oh yes, definitely saw it," Emain Ablach answered promptly. Amoris gave a noise in the affirmative

Ignoring the playful needling from Emain Ablach or the way Amoris shushed him, Imhotep looked up to Promethei. There was a similar softness in his own expression.

"Yeah, I suppose they are."

Because of his focus on his husband, he did not immediately notice the way the lights of the office had brightened, the way the chill in the air eased back, or the pictures on the wall of a pair of snowy-haired smiling faces--one smiling only slightly.