There never seemed to be an ordinary day in the house of the Man, and finding out he had a deadly disease was one way to send his daily routines on a crash course. When he felt healthy enough, he would seldom leave the house, only for short moonlit drives or walks with Andrew. Andrew's life was the opposite, more ordinary and strangely routine, unlike the Man's. His patterns now depended on his level of energy and how much energy his ill friend had. Waking up late, lounging in bed, going out for a walk when it was warm, and binging gay cartoon shows and Dane DeHaan movies had now become a constant for him. For a person who had never formed a routine, Andrew liked the strange predictability of it all, the solidity and strength it built. His routine in Seattle was less secure, more guns and toothaches than he ever imagined, but it came to a slight calm when the Man suggested they visit Andrew's hospital. Andrew was glad that he wasn't going alone, otherwise the memories of his burns and Richard would pull him down into his animalistic mindset even more. They stopped at Starbucks first for a quick drink, Andrew still sticking close to the Man and getting exactly what he ordered, just hotter and in a smaller size. They downed their drinks and walked to the hospital hand in hand, shields raised to avoid the angry mobs of City-Savers who threatened to harm them. Andrew had to keep his more secure, as the Man was low on power, miles from home, and in need of a long nap in his husband's arms. It was a way to keep his friend safe, to be stronger than the enemies outside. Andrew questioned him to see if he was sure about visiting, the older man smiling in response and and saying yes. They were both ready, and together, they flew. They lifted up into the sky, along the side of the building, immediately finding the spot where Andrew had exploded like a ticking time bomb. Andrew used his abilities to shift through the wall and into the room he had once resided in for only a few hours. It was empty, dark and barely furnished, all the lights off and the windows closed completely, covered in thick, cream colored, opaque curtains. The two men phased through the door after finding it was locked, coming face to face with a giant plaque on the wall next to the door. It was no bigger than a person's head, but read a clear message. 

"This room is off limits to all staff and patients. Do not enter for any reason whatsoever by order of the SPD." 

Below that was only a single date, 2/3/12, and the symbol of the Seattle police department. 

Andrew chuckled a little, a foreign sound to most, but quickly regained his stone cold appearance when a doctor turned the corner and walked right towards them. He looked to be in his forties, with large, round wire-framed glasses, a large bald spot on top his his head, and clipboard firmly gripped in his fist. He gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the clipboard and rushing to the nearest phone, yelling that he was calling the police. Andrew stopped him with a single word, commanding the man to halt and turn around. The Man spoke up, saying they meant no harm and were only here for a visit. The two powerful beings laughed slightly at the plaque on the wall, the Man leaning his head on Andrew and smirking, 

"That's one way to get a cursed hospital room, Drew. Maybe I should try it sometime." 

Andrew giggled, losing his control on the magic only for a split second, grinning ear to ear at the comment. This was why he had agreed to coming here, to see this place again. It was another example of new replacing the old, memories swapping places on his mind. He looked back at the middle aged man standing in horror, pale-faced and sweaty. 

"Have a nice day." The telekinetic scowled before sulking off slowly down the hall, the Man following close behind him. They teleported back to the house, both spreading themselves out on the couch and shifting into their comfy outfits. Andrew layed his head down on his friend, hugging him close and closing his eyes for a few moments. That hospital was once the source of all his nightmares, all of his pain, but now it represented power and joy, something that had also become a daily routine for the telekinetic. 

The two friends, brothers even, layed there all night, analyzing a new bit of footage pulled from the Chronicle CD, and for once, Andrew had never felt more happy to have a routine he could believe in and a hospital room dedicated in his honor.