Hermes - Interdepartmental on Gon

Panty had formed a habit of glancing at the occupied hospital bed every once in awhile. She’d first inspect the machines, make sure there weren’t any flashing red lights or blinking warnings. Next she’d slip her gaze down towards the hoses and tubes hooked up to a face covered in bandages, immaculately clean as if freshly replaced despite Panty being the only soul in the room for the last few hours. Finally her eyes would drift to the white blanket that drooped over his lower half, watching his legs, his feet, hoping for even the slightest twitch.

It was all so futile. The hospital was Letter’s design, and Gon’s stay there was made permanent by Letter’s will. She was looking for warnings in a machine that could not fail, watching bandages that simply stayed clean, staring at an immobile form like waiting for a statue to blink. All her habit did was further sear the image into her mind- Gon’s flesh withered and blackened from abuse brought on by power that the physical form could not handle, destroyed by its own strength, accessed too early and too completely. The ultimate price, and a living reminder of the folly of desperation, dangling on the precipice of death like a carrot on a stick for the rest of the team to chase.

(...)

Sitting rigidly on the chair beside Gon’s bed, Hermes clasped his hands together and squeezed his eyes shut. His voice was barely above a whisper, wavering with anxiety. “I-I need to s-see you in my office. Please.”

The room went silent, save for the steady beeping of the heartrate monitor. Panty had a good idea of what would happen, but still she found herself unable to look away, on the off-chance that hooking Gon up to the network would solve the problem this time, would wake him in some way that the other attempts hadn’t. Fuck her for still having some hope, right?

As expected, Hermes soon unclasped his hands and sighed deeply, half from the exertion and half from the disappointment. This was, what, the seventh try now?

“Any luck?” Panty asked. She knew the answer, but she’d also learned how much Hermes needed to report to someone.

Hermes shook his head sadly. “Same as the other times. I can almost feel a connection, but he’s so dulled by painkillers that I can’t even feel my own body while the network’s up. To need that much… I can’t imagine the pain he must be in.” His brow furrowed, and he stood from the chair. “I’ll… I’ll talk to the others about it. Maybe there’s some other way to do it.”

***

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