Midnight Manor Private Residence, Sunday Night

[pocketpretzels]

Well, it sure has hell had been a day. There was a lot of bread currently populating both the private residence's and the boarding house's kitchen, let's just put it that way. And we won't even talk about the dough in the freezer.

Eventually, though, Watts had slipped into bed exhausted, falling asleep rather immediately.

The smell of vomit and sweat hit him like a wave as soon as he stepped inside.

It was overwhelming, he was practically choking on it. He wanted to run, be anywhere but here- but at the same time, he knew he needed to be here, this might be the last-

Watts awoke with a gasp, scrambling out of the bed and scribbling a quick note for Steven indicating that he'd be on the balcony. He threw on a pair of trousers and a shirt without checking whose they were- probably Steven's, honestly, judging by the softness of the fabric if nothing else- and all but flung himself out the balcony door and on to the outdoor sofa.

[ooc: details of conversation NFB please!]

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

Steven wrapped his arm around Llewellyn's shoulders, encouraging him to lean in as much as he liked.

"Now then, what's wrong, love?"

[pocketpretzels]

"How is Miss Finch?"

Watts? Not quite ready to talk about himself? Perish the thought.

[hasaknightjob]

"Recovering slowly but surely physically speaking," Steven said. "Emotionally, she's doing a number on herself. Upset that she caused such a fuss, put people in danger, asked too much of everyone..."

Steven trailed off at the end there, glancing to see if there was any look of recognition on Llewellyn's side.

[pocketpretzels]

"I would've gone up to the roof," Watts said. "But I didn't wish to disturb her." He frowned. "I'm sorry," he added. "I'm not implying that that is what you were doing."

[hasaknightjob]

"I didn't think you were," Steven said. He rubbed Llewellyn's shoulder to show his appreciation for the clarification all the same. "Besides, you needed your sleep."

Not that Steven and Marc had gotten more sleep than Llewellyn had, but they were used to going without.

[pocketpretzels]

"Hmmm," he hummed noncommittally.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven looked at him worriedly. "Don't want to talk about it, I take it?"

[pocketpretzels]

He would, eventually. Precisely because Steven was so good at not prying, despite the fact that he was clearly concerned.

Right now, though, he just needed fresh air and to be held. The latter of which he indicated by curling in towards Steven as much as possible.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven moved his hand up to lightly run his fingers through Llewellyn's hair. "It's all right, love. I'm here. Not going anywhere."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts made a noise of acknowledgement in to Steven's shoulder, but was otherwise silent for several minutes, focusing on the feeling of Steven's arm around him, his other hand in his hair.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven let the silence linger. He kept stroking his fingers through Llewellyn's hair while listening to the sound of the waves below.

[pocketpretzels]

"I couldn't breathe," Watts said finally, quietly.

[hasaknightjob]

"What?" Steven looked at Llewellyn with concern. "Are you ill?"

[pocketpretzels]

"What?" Watts gave Steven a startled look. "No, no- I don't- I'm not- Do I look unwell?" he asked.

[hasaknightjob]

"You look tired," Steven said, since they were honest with one another. "But I asked because you said you couldn't breathe while you were sleeping."

Not exactly what Llewellyn had said, but what Steven had heard.

[pocketpretzels]

Well, it wasn't as if Watts had been terribly clear about what he'd meant.

"In my dream."

It wasn't much of a clarification, but at least it was something of one.

[hasaknightjob]

"I see." Steven moved his hand back to Llewellyn's shoulder to give him a comforting hug. "You were having a nightmare."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts nodded, taking strength from that embrace.

Sorry, Steven. It was likely you were going to get this story in drips and drabs, a bit at a time.

[hasaknightjob]

That was all right. Steven wasn't going anywhere.

"My poor love. And here you'd started to sleep well again."

[pocketpretzels]

Well, the days were getting noticeably shorter, so that had been likely to come to a grinding halt soon anyway.

"I've told you I don't. Remember very much. From my childhood?" Watts said.

[hasaknightjob]

"Yes," Steven said. He gave an attempt at a smile. "Makes two of us?"

[pocketpretzels]

Which got another one of those wan smiles back.

"How exactly my parents died is one of them. It might have been cholera. Or influenza."

[hasaknightjob]

"Suppose that makes sense," Steven said, after giving it some thought. "Considering when it happened. You were young. Of course you wouldn't remember the details. They probably tried protecting you from it as well."

[pocketpretzels]

"Hmmm." Watts hummed, because there was no way to verify that.

"I do remember it was illness," he said slowly. "And- the smell of it. Sweat and vomit."

[hasaknightjob]

"Smell can be closely tied to memory," Steven agreed.

He hadn't had the body when they'd gone into Arden's room. But he knew enough of what it had been like in there to guess, "Today with Arden must have been hard then? Seeing her that way?"