Eren hadn't a thought as to how to respond to Levi's words, and he regretted the heat he felt rushing to his face, surely coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. This feature was something he hated about himself, for it happened too frequently and gave him away too often.

"Do...do you wanna move somewhere more comfortable now?" he asked to change the subject in hopes of chasing his mild embarrassment away before the raven could pick up on it.

"Sure," Levi mumbled, raking his fingers through his already messy mohawk.

Eren pushed himself to his feet and offered his hand out to Levi, who took it--though not without a scowl--and pulled himself to his feet as well. He wobbled a bit, his hand coming up in front of his eyes as he leaned on the sink for support, grumbling a curse word under his breath.

"Dizzy?" asked the teen, brows furrowed in concern.

"Only a lot."

"Here." Eren offered his arm once more for the short man to take hold of for balance. The raven merely muttered a 'tch' before squeezing around the brunet toward the door. Staggering, he nearly lost his balance but was lucky enough to catch the doorframe before he went all the way down.

"Just let me help you," Eren half-begged. A frown settled on his face as he moved to Levi's side once more. "You're too weak to-"

His words were interrupted by another round of horrid coughing. Levi crumpled to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer. His body shuddered as he pulled his arms around himself. Eren felt a pang in his soul with each retch; it was as if his lungs had sympathy pain for Levi. Once the coughing stopped, he drew in a ragged breath and proceeded to hide his face in his knees. His entire body trembled mercilessly.

"I can't do this, Eren," he practically moaned.

Drawing in a breath of his own, the teen knelt down to the artist's side, though refrained from touching him as he so had the urge to. "I know you can," he murmured.

"No. It hurts too much."

"You're stronger than this, Levi. I know you are. You just have to know that you are."

"You're lying to yourself," he mumbled, his voice cracking through its already raspy quality. "I'm not strong. I'm a fucking weakling. You shouldn't be wasting your time on me."

"Humor me, then. If you think you're weak...just try. You can prove yourself wrong."

Wearily, Levi lifted his head once more to meet Eren's concerned gaze. Again, those bright turquoise eyes of his sparked something within the raven. It was quickly smothered by the blackness he bore, but he hadn't missed that feeling...the one that continued to get stronger the longer the brat stuck around, the fool.

"Fine," he muttered just as another shiver ran down his spine.

As Eren offered his hand once more, Levi felt his muscles start to truly ache, particularly in his legs. Combined with his constant quivering, he had trouble standing let alone holding himself up. Reluctantly, he kept hold of the teenager's hand for support and hobbled toward his bedroom. From the bathroom doorway behind him, even after the light was switched off, it was as if he could still feel the syringe on the counter, staring at him in disappointment as if it were the monster itself.

"That better?" asked Eren once he'd sat heavily on his bed and released his hand.

"Again I say, define better."

Eren kept his mouth shut and looked Levi over once more. He appeared so weak it seemed he might just cave in on himself at any second. His breathing was labored and his forehead remained shiny with sweat, random strands of his hair clinging to the moisture. While his hands weren't occupied with something else, he kept his arms folded over his torso and was hunched over like he was having abdominal pain. At that point, Eren wouldn't put it past him. Just by laying eyes on him, it was apparent he was in borderline agony.

"I'm gonna get you some water," Eren said before turning on his heel and heading toward the kitchen. Quickly, he filled a glass and carried it back to Levi, who'd turned and curled up in a ball on his side, burying his face in one of the pillows at the head of his bed.

Eren soundlessly placed the glass on the table next to him and sunk to the floor, fidgeting and wondering if he should say something or let Levi sleep or what. In truth, he could've used more sleep himself, but in the short amount of time he was able to get some shut-eye, Levi almost relapsed - if one could call it a relapse after only having been 'clean' for half a day.

"I'm a terrible person," Levi was muttering.

Eren shook his head despite the raven being unable to see him. "I wish I knew what to do to make you stop believing that."

"I am. First I keep you from your family and now I deprive you of your human necessities, like sleep. Tch..."

The brunet blinked in moderate bewilderment, wondering fleetingly if Levi could read minds, and then immediately shooting such a silly thought down.

"I'm fine," he said in the most reassuring voice he could muster, though he found himself having to fight a yawn to prove it.

"Please, brat. Even I know forty-five minutes of sleep isn't nearly enough, especially for a healthy person."

"What do you mean? How much sleep do you normally get?"

Levi drew in a shaky breath. "It varies. Maybe three to four hours every twenty hours or so."

Eren knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but that was inevitable.

"Do you know how un-" He stopped himself short in realizing how idiotic what he was about to say was.

Regardless, Levi laughed dryly, which quickly turned to a cough. "Yes, brat, I know how unhealthy getting little sleep is. I know how unhealthy many things are. But that never stopped me before, now has it?"

Eren sighed and mumbled a barely intelligible 'sorry'.

With what seemed like a herculean effort, Levi propped himself up to peer at Eren through narrow eyes.

"Get your ass up here and get some sleep," he practically ordered.

"I'm really f-"

"Shut the hell up, Jaeger. It's not going to help me get any better knowing I'm the cause of your health deterioration as well as my own. Just do it."

"O-okay..."

Slowly, Eren pushed himself to his feet, feeling his face heat up once more and internally punching himself for it. His brain practically whirled with scenarios his tired consciousness couldn't keep up with as Levi watched him.

"I can just go sleep on the couch...I don't wanna take your bed..."

Unable to hold himself up any longer, Levi collapsed back into his pillows.

"Whatever. Just get some sleep."

The teen merely nodded and headed for the door. He felt Levi's eyes on his back the entire way and risked a glance over his shoulder.

"Actually, Eren," he called softly. "S-stay," he stammered, averting his eyes. "Please."

"Are you sure?"

The raven nodded once. Cautiously, Eren moved back into the room. Inside his ribcage his heart beat like that of an angry lion and butterflies fluttered throughout his entire body. He suddenly wasn't so tired anymore, even as he gingerly sat on the bed opposite Levi to find it to be surprisingly comfortable. Awkwardness hung heavy in the air. So heavy that Eren felt he was breathing it in.

"So do you sleep sitting up like some freaky vampire or what?" muttered Levi, raking his hand through his hair and curling up on his side once more. His trembling never ceased and Eren couldn't help but notice how he scratched at himself.

"No..."

"Don't make this awkward like some childish middle schooler," he grumbled, shutting his own eyes.

"Sorry. I'm just...not used to this..."

"Hn, makes two of us..." He grimaced before mumbling, "Just lay down. I really don't have the energy to care all that much..."

This time Eren felt it was his turn to humor Levi, so he did as told, curling up much the same way as the artist though not as tightly. Before he decided it was safe and really in his best interest to catch a few more Zs, he found himself asking, "Will you be okay while I'm out?"

"I'm an addict, not a baby," Levi muttered. Eren could see the roll of his eyes beneath his grayish lids.

"I mean...you're not gonna try to...y'know..."

Slowly, the raven reopened his eyes. Eren wasn't so close, but his eyes were wide. Levi chewed the inside of his cheek while considering it. He felt torn right down the middle, between this brat who was looking at him so genuinely, radiating purity and bringing those godforsaken human feelings that Levi couldn't help but be attached to; and the monster, beckoning him from the bathroom - as the withdrawals progressed, the call became stronger.

"I'll try my best," he murmured finally.

"That's all I ask."

Levi resisted the urge to roll his eyes for sake of keeping the dizziness away.

Eren let himself relax as he laid there, his fatigued body too exhausted to keep up the needless mini adrenaline rush. With a yawn, he let his eyes close. Part of him felt he should feel guilty for taking the raven's bed, or weird because they were lying there together, but at that point all he could care about was sleeping. Finally, let himself give in to unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, Levi remained awake, watching as every muscle in Eren's body relaxed one by one until his breathing deepened and he had clearly fallen asleep. His face pacified completely, giving him an even more youthful appearance than he usually conducted. He lacked the small crease between his brows that seemed almost permanent, something the artist knew he was the cause of.

The teen's face appeared soft and serene, his lips - plump but thin enough to gracefully compliment his features - were parted slightly, shallow breaths entering and exiting his body between them.

The urge to reach out and caress that beautiful face hit the raven like a bus. As hastily as he could past his shaking, he shoved his hands between his legs and shut his eyes, willing the urge away.

At that point his muscles began to ache - every single one of them. They spasmed, begging for the monster, begging to feel normal again. His lungs might as well have been on fire for how badly they burned in their struggle for oxygen. His stomach was pitifully empty. Withdrawals never let him keep anything down for more than maybe an hour and that was what had caused him to drop to a such a dangerous weight.

He was sure he was dying. He could feel the pathetic thumping of his heart caged in his aching ribs. Even that was begging to be set free from this misery.

All it took was one hit. One easy hit, just across the hall in the bathroom, hidden away under the sink. One hit and everything would return to normal. He could eat again. He could sleep better. The pain would vanish, chased away by the monster. He could go back to his own made up reality that easily.

Yet as he laid there, he fought it. For once in his life he wasn't completely alone. For once in his life he had a purpose and something else to hold onto that actually meant something to him, strange and unrealistic as that felt after caring about nothing but his monster for such an incredibly long time.

And that purpose laid a mere three feet from him, the sound of his easy breathing and the presence of his purity being Levi's only motivation to fight this overwhelming need off.

Of course, this had been his purpose from the start when he initially decided it was time to get clean. But that motivation was merely a manifestation of distorted memories of bright eyes and soft laughter in the back room of a certain tattoo shop from a brain under the influence of the monster. This...this was real. It was right in front of him, with teeth and a heartbeat, sleeping soundly in all of its serene beauty.

Slowly, Levi reopened his eyes. Eren was unchanged, though the sight of his face caused a pang in his chest, reminding him of how much he didn't deserve this. He didn't need the monster to tell him that; it was something he knew all on his own.

Fighting off the dizziness as best he could, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The movement caused the teen to stir but not wake.

As soon as the walls essentially ceased spinning from the movement, Levi took a few sips of the water Eren had left on the bedside table. He then grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the drawer, along with his lighter, and pushed himself to his feet. Sparing one backwards glance at the sleeping teen, experiencing a mixture of emotions still foreign to him, he exited the room and stepped outside into the frigid air, not bothering with shoes or any kind of jacket, and leaned against the wall.

After sliding one of the death sticks from its package, he stuck the rest between his thighs and rolled it between his fingers for a moment, considering a number of things.

Everything in his world was completely turned around. He hadn't been to work in over a month, and though he still had money left over from the bank, it was quickly dwindling. He'd stopped drawing, his creative spirit hidden away in the shadows of withdrawal. He was thoroughly convinced his sister hated him, or at least distrusted him.

'Tch. I deserve that, in the very least,' he thought.

With a sigh manifesting visibly in the cold air, he stuck the cigarette between his lips and lit it, immediately inhaling that little bit of death. It tasted awful; he'd always disliked the taste of tobacco, though flavor wasn't what he sought when he invited it into his lungs. It was the sort of...release it gave. It was calming, to put it simply. Nothing like the monster, but the monster was much more potent and did better in holding his emotions and memories in check. Cigarettes were more like parasites, worming their way to his brain through his bloodstream not to keep him 'company' or change who he was, but to help him cope while the monster was away. It was the absolute only thing that got him by when he wasn't high, and he rarely smoked during that time. Parasites and monsters did not get along inside of him.

Levi'd been so lost in his thoughts he hasn't noticed the tiny snowflakes dancing into the stairwell before him at first. With an annoyed grunt, he put out his cigarette and fumbled for the knob to escape back into the warmth.

Almost as soon as the door was shut, his thoughts hit him. Memories flooded in, and he couldn't stop them. They consumed his thoughts and had him planting his back against the door and sliding to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in them as a painful memory seemingly at random swam to the surface and played out.

"Mama, how come I don't have a dad?"

"He's gone," the woman put simply. She didn't even spare him a glance as she took a drag off of her cigarette, staring blankly out the balcony doors of the small apartment they lived in.

"How come?"

"He's a jackass, that's why."

The boy frowned and clambered into the chair next to his mother. He was determined to get an answer out of her.

"Why, though?"

With an irritated sigh, the woman turned and smacked the table, her rings clacking against it and causing the child to flinch at the loud noise.

"I don't know, Levi. There are just bad people out there, alright? And your father is one of them."

To such a small, underdeveloped brain, those words made no sense. Small hands fidgeted with the edge of a black shirt.

"Does he hate me?" he asked.

"He hates everyone." She leaned back and took another drag before carelessly releasing the smoke. Levi had long since been used to the smoke in the atmosphere no matter where they lived. Still, even so young, he remembered disliking the smell of it and thinking he'd never use those disgusting things.

"But I'm his son. How can he hate me?"

"Shit, Levi, I don't know!" the woman snapped. "Don't ask about him ever again. Just...pretend he doesn't exist."

The boy stared at his mother, trying to comprehend why the subject was so touchy to her. He wasn't through, though. He needed an answer.

"What about Alex?" he asked.

"What about her?" The woman's fingers came up to pinch the bridge of her nose, something Levi always remembered thinking she did when she about had it with him.

"She doesn't have a dad, either."

"Not everyone needs a dad. Stop asking such idiotic questions and go to your room."

Her voice was flat, impassive. When it got that way, the child knew not to argue. With an exasperated sigh, he slid off of the chair and padded barefoot down the hall and into his room where he shut the door and twisted the lock.

He remained in his room for the rest of that afternoon, distracted by the mess of toys he'd pulled out of his closet. Eventually, he'd fallen sleep among them and was awoken by the slamming of the door and abrupt yelling. It startled him awake and rendered him disoriented until he recognized the voices of his mother and her current boyfriend. At first they seemed moderately calm, but the argument quickly escalated.

Scared, Levi climbed over his toys and squeezed himself into the closet, managing to fit his small frame among what remained inside. Through the thin wall, he could hear profanity and things breaking, particularly glass.

All he recalled clearly hearing was about him and his sister.

"And what about my children, huh?! What do you expect to do with them?!"

"Fuck if I know! We can't take 'em with if that's what you're sayin'!"

"I know that, jackass! So, what?!"

"Put the fricken gremlins up for adoption! Give 'em to an orphanage! I don't give a fuck!"

"You expect me to abandon Alex and Levi for your drunk ass?!" There was sarcastic laughter and another clatter. That was when Levi pressed his small fists to his ears, desperately trying to block out their screaming that to him at the time was ear-splittingly loud. He didn't remember where Alex had been - whether she was at a slumber party or what - but he did remember wishing she'd been there to comfort him, or at least be there so he wasn't alone in his experience.

The argument seemed to end as quickly as it began with a "Stay the fuck away from me or I'll call the police!" and a thud as the front door slammed shut. After that, everything fell silent.

Levi didn't recall how long he remained in the closet, huddled up in his own protection before his mother unlocked the door from the outside and made her way in.

"Levi?" she murmured into the darkness. The child was too afraid to speak or move. He waited for her to find him. When she did, he could just barely make out the puffiness of her eyes and the shininess on her cheeks from tear streaks on her face poking in the door.

"Come out of there, Levi," she said. He shook his head. She crouched down. "Come on, sweetie, I promise you're safe. He's gone."

He remembered being surprised at those words. She never called him or his sister 'sweetie' or made promises that they were safe. Presently he would've been skeptical, but at the time he was merely five and trusted his mother more than anyone. So he reached out for her and let her pull him out from the mess of toys in the closet and into her arms.

That night, she made him a 'special' meal - chicken nuggets and fried potatoes with all the ketchup he wanted - and gave him a bubble bath, something he'd never experienced before. After that she gave him a giant bowl of ice cream and turned on a tape of his favorite cartoon. She wrapped him up in a huge blanket and let him curl up in her lap until he fell asleep.

It was the only time he recalled her ever being so motherly, and that was what made the memory so painful. Even to that day, it was a feeling he longed to experience again - the love of a mother, even in the perspective of a five-year-old's mind. For just that one night he believed she actually loved him rather than constantly questioning it up until the day she passed away.

Even in the nights of his mother fighting, or fighting with his sister as he grew up, then still seemed like such a simpler time as compared to the present. A time where he still picked his boogers and played in the dirt without a care; a time where laughter came much easier and he was too naïve to understand anything other than to love his mother and be nice to his sister. As he grew up, of course, he learned...and that was ultimately led him down the path he was on now.

As the memory faded out, the awareness of his aching muscles and burning lungs faded back in. Though those things seemed like almost nothing compared to the emotional pain he bore from the memory.

From down the hall, the beckoning of the monster was louder than ever. In his trembling state, he managed to pull himself to his feet using the doorknob above him. He could think of nothing but ridding himself of this horrid feeling of loss and loneliness as he shuffled down the hall. A cloud of depression was manifesting around him and all he wanted was for it to blow away. In his mind's eye, there was only one way to accomplish that.

Levi turned and stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Gingerly, he flicked the light on. Gray orbs immediately focused on the cylindrical item resting where it had last been left - on the counter to the left of the sink. Inanimate as it was, he could practically hear it tempting him.

One hit and you'll feel better.

Resisting will only make it worse.

Don't be such a coward.

As the raven took a step forward, breath caught somewhere between his throat and chest, his senses suddenly became aware of something else that had him stopping short. His ears picked up the sound of soft, deep breathing coming from behind him.

'I'll try my best.'

'That's all I ask.'

Fingers balling into fists, he cautiously risked a glance over his shoulder. Across the hall and in his room, Eren slept soundly, having spread out from his initial position in the midst of unconsciousness. His face was squished up against and half buried in one of the pillows; his back visibly rose and fell with his steady breathing. His hair was already tousled from sleep in a way Levi, in a better state, might describe as 'adorable'.

The raven's resolve crumbled to bits at that moment. Fumbling, he reached for the knob of the bathroom door and pulled it shut. Unaware of the moisture seeping from the ducts of his eyes, he made his way back into the bedroom to join the teenager. On his way, he grabbed his sketchbook and a single stick of charcoal from one of the drawers. He then proceeded to gingerly take his place on the bed, careful not to wake Eren, and placed the book on his lap.

Almost as soon as he was next to the sleeping teen again, he felt the calm of his presence and was able to relax a little, but the pain of the memory was still apparent in his chest and his entire being felt incredibly conflicted. The sketchbook in his lap seemed to play the role of a medium between the two, something that had little connection to either the monster or Eren, someone his feelings unmistakably became stronger for by the minute.

He had no idea what he planned to draw, if anything. He sat for a while staring at the blank page in front of him, twirling the piece of charcoal between his thin fingers, already blackening them.

And suddenly he wasn't thinking and the charcoal connected with the paper. Just like when he tattooed, it was as if he was merely an observer while his hands did all the work. He watched as lines manifested messily across the paper, creating an image he wasn't consciously sure of.

???

Eren didn't know how long he slept. His only awareness upon waking was immense comfort and the lack of light in the room as compared to when he'd passed out. Consequent to opening his eyes, he was rendered momentarily disoriented, having not immediately recognized his surroundings. His brain briefly going into panic mode, he sat up quickly and glanced around, only to remember where he was and why.

Taking a deep breath, he let his muscles relax and dragged a hand across his sleepy features. Waking up so suddenly had his heart pounding needlessly in his chest.

That was when his ears picked up on the strange scratching sound and ragged breathing to his right. He turned. In the dim light, he could just barely make out Levi's trembling outline. He appeared to have something in his hand, but Eren's unadjusted eyes couldn't quite make out what. Frowning, he reached back to flick the light on next to the bed. He blinked rapidly to let his eyes readjust to the sudden brightness and then swiveled his entire body around to survey the man sitting a mere two feet away from him.

The artist seemed in a trance, his hand using a dwindling stick of charcoal to scratch over the lines of a drawing in his sketchbook over and over in an almost frantic manner. His steely eyes remained unblinking, yet a constant stream of tears flowed from them, making trails down his cheeks and dripping off of his chin. His pallid hands had been altered, darkened by the charcoal. Each line in the drawing was in its own indent from having been traced over dozens of times with added pressure.

"L-Levi?" the teen murmured cautiously, frown deepening.

Suddenly, the remainder of the stick of charcoal snapped and crumbled to pieces in the artist's hand. His damp lashes fluttered and his eyes focused back in as he drew in a large gulp of air. His hand curled into a tight fist, trembling violently around what remained of the utensil.

Eren didn't spare the drawing a glance as he reached over and took the fist between both of his hands. Gently, he started massaging it in an attempt to get it to loosen up, darkening his own tan skin with remnants of the charcoal in the process. He noted how gelid Levi's hand was, as well; it was nearly freezing. Slowly but surely, the hand relaxed, as did the rest of his body and the breath he'd drawn in let out slowly through his nose.

At that moment, Levi's stinging eyes focused on what he'd drawn and immediately the urge to throw up overwhelmed him. Hastily, he withdrew his hand from Eren's, reluctantly away from the warmth, and used his blackened hand to smudge the drawing over before seizing the sketchbook with both hands and hurling it as hard as he could at the opposite wall. It made a satisfying thud, leaving charcoal dust on the white paint of the wall, and slid to the floor.

"A-are you okay?" Eren murmured, frowning deeply.

Jaw clenched tight, Levi pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them closely, trembling kicking back up. With a shake of his head, he hid his face from the teen, not wanting to let him see any more of his tears.

Eren only watched, unsure of what to do as his heart squeezed painfully for the man in front of him. Whatever he'd drawn - something Eren hadn't seen - had really gotten to him. The teen felt helpless.

"What can I do?" he asked after a while, unable to stand the silence any longer.

Levi lifted his head and angled his face away from the teen to drag his sleeve across his face in an attempt to erase his tears.

"Help me up," he rasped. "I need a cigarette."

Grateful to have some sort of use, Eren jumped up and offered Levi his hands. The raven took both of them and used them as leverage to move to his feet. The movement, unsurprisingly, caused the walls to spin out of place, though with his so recent trance-like state, he was unable to steady himself. He stumbled and ended up leaning mostly on the taller teen standing in front of him, clinging desperately for support.

"Shit," he grumbled. "Sorry."

"Maybe you should just rest..." Eren suggested softly.

"Cigarette first," the raven insisted, his eyes searching the top of the dresser for the items.

"You can barely stand up, Levi."

"Don't be a brat." Levi worked on shifting his weight to his own two feet and let go of Eren. "I'm fine." With that, he reached over and swiped his pack of cigarettes and the lighter from the dresser. Eren only watched as he squeezed around him, stumbling a little as he disappeared out of the bedroom door.

Once Levi finished his cigarette, Eren managed to talk him into eating a piece of toast without much argument. He elected not to ask about the drawing for fear he would upset him all over again.

"I don't know why you try, Eren," he mumbled in the midst of nibbling on the piece of toast. "I'm just going to end up puking this up in an hour."

Attempting to ignore the surprise that bubbled up in his chest at the sound of his name in the raven's voice, Eren replied, "You can't just not eat."

To that, Levi didn't respond, but took another bite to chew slowly on, staring blankly at the kitchen counter in front of him.

Eren remained several feet away, arms crossed over his chest. After sleeping, he felt much better physically, though emotionally he was all over the place. He wondered about the drawing and why it affected Levi so much. He wondered why sometimes Levi seemed alright whereas the next moment he would be coughing so hard he could barely breathe or throwing up.

"Staring again, I see," Levi rasped before taking a sip of water, eyes flickering up to meet Eren's.

"Sorry. You just...um...you look cold," Eren said quickly as an excuse.

"A little," Levi admitted.

"Here..." Swiftly, Eren moved to the living room and retrieved the blanket off of the larger of the two couches, which he gingerly draped over Levi's bony shoulders, careful not to touch him directly.

"Thanks," he sighed almost glumly.

"What's wrong?"

"Hn, other than the obvious thing? I'm practically fucking helpless."

Eren bit his tongue to stop his immediate response, telling Levi it wasn't true. If he allowed himself to say that, however, he knew he'd be lying, and that wouldn't help his cause in the slightest.

He decided to change the subject instead, wandering over to the fridge and peeking inside. "We...should go grocery shopping tomorrow," he said.

"Tch. Leave this apartment in the state I'm in, looking like shit? No thanks."

"Would you rather have no food?" the brunet countered.

"You can go. I'll stay here."

"I...don't think that's a good idea."

Levi's eyes slid closed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

A while later, Eren had talked Levi into at least attempting to get some rest. It was apparent in simply the way he moved that he was exhausted. The teen wasn't surprised; it was a no brainer than withdrawals would take a lot out of a person, especially of Levi's size and condition.

The raven didn't have half the strength to shuffle back to his room and settled for the couch despite Eren's offers to carry him. Secretly, he wouldn't have minded momentarily curling up in those warm, strong arms, but already felt helpless enough and refused the offer.

Using what felt like the absolute last of his physical energy, he dragged his feet to the couch and all but collapsed, wrapping himself in the blanket over his shoulders before curling up inside of it. He spared just enough energy to reach out and push a button on the remote sitting on the table to turn the TV on. It was tuned to a channel showing some crime series he let drift out as background noise as he shut his eyes and let himself find unconsciousness. The last thing he was aware of was the weight of another blanket being laid over him and a whisper of the words "sleep well."

---

Fun fact: This chapter was originally 10K words long. ._. I was absolutely not going to upload a chapter that long, so it's split in two. Ha.