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[ressusciter]

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[ressusciter]

Any other specific requests?

[dawn is growing in the room, beginning to illuminate things more clearly through the open curtains. he lingers for half a second more before he pulls back, going to collect his coffee and move back towards the kitchen. having breakfast in mind is settling into an old routine, an old dance that he knows too well, and he rolls up his sleeves to begin.]

[manlet]

[He eases back onto the sofa with a sigh. It's as if nothing has happened between them at all, that their life on pause has now resumed. Andersen picks up his coffee and takes a large gulp of it.]

Yeah. Feed yourself, too, then get your ass to bed. I know you worked all night to keep yourself from sleeping.

[ressusciter]

I doubt I'm going to be able to sleep for a while still, Andersen. You know my habits.

[he says this, and soon enough the sounds of cooking will drift through the door. it's truly like an early morning before he left, as if they simply were returning back to old roles. Dantes knows where everything is, what Andersen likes - that he's going to end up adding bread and fruit in the bargain to the plate. simple, but cooked well.]

[manlet]

[His eyes roam over the table. Catches a glimpse of blue, which he peers at closer.]

Then take some of that drug you've got stashed away.

[It's the brooch. He bought it for Dantes a long time ago, on an impulsive whim. To think he'd pick a color his Witch was associated with -- that was an egocentric move only Andersen could make. But...]

You've kept this old thing this whole time?

[ressusciter]

What thing? I keep a lot of things.

[he knows what Andersen means. but he'll play dumb for as long as he can, busy with setting up their plates and cooking his own eggs.]

[manlet]

This thing!

[He realizes Dantes can't see what he's talking about. He groans, goes over while waving the brooch in question.]

You've held onto it. With the way you've been tending to my room and my things, I'm beginning to think...

[Wait. No. He can't finish that thought.]

[ressusciter]

Beginning to think what?

[he's sliding eggs onto their plates, and he looks over at the brooch for a second before he moves to set the table. of course he'd held onto it. it was important - it was something that stayed.]

You can't have thought I'd get rid of it.

[manlet]

[He's always been good at reading people. In Chaldea, it was essentially a skill. The ability to peer into another and see the core of their existence -- but in this world, it went both ways. If he could look into Dantes, then Dantes could look into him. And Andersen can't help but wonder how much the other man saw.

He turns the brooch over in his hand. Runs his finger along its edge. The words on the tip of his tongue stay where they are and he sits down.]

... whatever. If I say what I'm thinking, you'll get on my case again. Are my eggs ready?

[ressusciter]

Yes. You're fortunate I wasn't low on bread.

[putting the plate before Andersen, he takes his own seat and begins to eat in small, careful bites. savoring the taste, and allowing himself to adjust, since his last meal was quite some time ago. now, in company and with the pale light of dawn climbing ever higher, it tastes better than it has a right to, something about it too restorative.]

[manlet]

[His stomach grumbles at the fresh aroma. Feeling hunger again is like an old friend. In a strange way, he enjoys a physical reminder that he's human. Where Dantes takes small bites, Andersen eats with great gusto. He doesn't hold back, shovels it all into his mouth.

--he winds up coughing on his eggs a little.]

[ressusciter]

[breakfast is peaceful enough, and at some point in the proceedings, the cat appears again, taking the sign of two men awake as his signal to wait patiently for his own breakfast. which Dantes will handle after food without complaint. of course, there's the dishes to do and to dry. and his work to tidy up in the living room. and really, whatever else he can hold onto to avoid the idea of actually lying down for sleep.

it's going to be obvious that he's running away from the concept. again.]

[manlet]

[If he thinks he's being sneaky, he has another thing coming. When Dantes starts tidying up the living room, Andersen grabs him by the sleeve.]

I'll handle it.

[ressusciter]

Please, you just got here.

[sleep is his enemy, Andersen. you know this.]

[manlet]

I said I'll handle it. [To make his point, he begins sweeping up some of the papers into a pile.] Shut up and go upstairs.

[ressusciter]

Andersen.

[why does he have to say it aloud? why can't it just be understood?]

I don't want to sleep. Drug or not, my head is too full of thoughts for it.

[manlet]

Then lay down and close your eyes for half an hour.

[He goes on shuffling papers together.]

If I let you go on, you'll find excuse after excuse to stay up for the entire week.

[ressusciter]

It's not going to do anything for me.

[he grumbles, and begins to sulk his way towards his room. to emphasize his point, he'll lie on top of the blankets, unwilling to truly try and get cozy. a half hour, fine, he'll occupy his mind somehow.

even if the moment he lays down his body feels as heavy as stone and he has to tune out the stress of exhaustion. that's its own matter to handle. he complies, because otherwise Andersen will do something drastic.]

[manlet]

[The sight of Dantes slouching away, draped all in black like a true moody teenager, hits Andersen's funny bone so hard that he can't help barking out a laugh. He should keep his mouth shut when his partner is still within earshot, but he can't help it.]

I'll take off five minutes if you be on your best behavior!

[Ignatz, who's watching the little tiff from beneath the table, at least hops after Dantes to keep him company.]

[ressusciter]

[at least the cat loves him. at least someone cares about his feelings enough to come see if he's sleeping alright.

which. he doesn't. he does sleep, as Andersen probably predicted, his body unable to handle shutting down, but it's about two hours later when he jerks back awake from a new review of everything that lies dormant in his thoughts, and he curses under his breath. instead of lingering, he gets back up to fix his clothing and to go peer around to see if Andersen's run off anywhere with his newfound freedom. it's early enough that there's a full day ahead.]

[manlet]

[Andersen is fast asleep in the kitchen, with a variety of bottles neatly stacked on the table he's slumped over. He got into the alcohol not too long after he finished his work. His glasses are crooked on his face and nestled in his loose fist is the brooch he picked up from the living room.

He seems completely at peace, for once.]

[ressusciter]

[somehow, he's not entirely surprised. the bottles can be dealt with later, but for now, it feels only natural to pick Andersen up in his arms and carry him off to his room. putting him in bed is another simple matter, and on the bedside table Dantes sets his glasses and the brooch. strange that he'd cling onto it, and for a moment, Dantes pauses with it in his hand. but in the end, it goes there too.

he'll fix the kitchen to back how it was, and do his own duty of making the place a little cozier. in Andersen's absence, the theatre had been fully reorganized, but it didn't mean there weren't things to still do while Andersen sleeps.]

[manlet]

[He remains sound asleep as Dantes carries him away, with not even a flinch. Andersen's taken full advantage of his human body in this world to get himself miserably, absolutely drunk -- and given what has happened the last few hours, why shouldn't he? He wants a few moments to shut off his brain, to let himself ignore deadlines and what's brewing in his chest.

--his dreams aren't pleasant. Caught on the brink between waking and sleep, he tosses and turns in bed.]

[ressusciter]

[coming to check on him, seeing him in such distress, a frown creases Dantes's brow. whatever lurks in his mind, he's pulled into regret - if only he could go, burn it away and leave Andersen untroubled the way he used to do for their Master. absent that, all he can do is stand by the bed, slowly reaching a hand out to place on his shoulder.]

Andersen.

[soft, and then a little louder, with the touch.]

Andersen.

[manlet]

[Touch is new. Foreign. Andersen jolts awake and swipes out on instinct. He bumps his back against the headboard as he scrambles back, blankets tangling his legs. Only when he realizes it's Dantes (not a rathmore, not friend-turned-foe, just his bonded, his friend) does he freeze in place.

Slowly, he puts a hand to his head. He can feel a throbbing headache coming on.]

Don't watch me sleep.

[There'd be more poison to the words if his voice wasn't so soft.]

[ressusciter]

...It's the afternoon, you should try and get up.

[he remains where he is, hand jerked back after Andersen was awake and tried to strike out - only a natural thing. they've lived through this before. Dantes knows how nightmares grip and twist one's psyche to the limit.

he won't push. won't ask too much, because of how very near the hurt is.]