[center]

[IMG]http://i65.tinypic.com/28hztyw.jpg[/IMG] [img]https://i.imgur.com/pvtkADB.png?1[/img]

[h2][color cyan]Sander[/color] | [color 8493ca]Christmas[/color][/h2]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img] 
[sub]Collab with [Danny][/sub][/center]

[hider=Routine]
[color=silver][center]𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕃𝕒 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕒, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟   / /  ~~𝟚𝟛𝟜𝟘[/center][/color]

The familiar scent led Sander to another closed door, so Sander shuffled in, the bag of blood tucked under an arm. Right there on the bed was exactly who he was looking for. Christmas was still asleep, bandages around his neck and several patches on his face. However, the scent was strong. His roommate was alive and well. Good enough.
 
Sander let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

Upon reaching the bedside, he spent a few moments just staring at Christmas’ sleeping face, and hoped the boy would wake up right then. However, his wish only fell flat. Several seconds passed, but Christmas’ eyes were still closed. With a suppressed sigh, Sander sat down on the ground, leaning his back against the bedframe.
 
He wanted Christmas to wake up so bad. He wanted to tell the blond boy that he had got better. That his power wasn’t all that he was. So the boy wouldn’t be afraid anymore. So he would stay. But Sander couldn’t do that now. Christmas was sleeping, so he supposed he would let the boy rest.
 
As he waited, Sander reached for the blood bag. Improvement or not, the withdrawal still hit him, and it hit hard. Especially when he had dragged out the blood high so much. They only left a small blood bag for him though, but it would be enough. For now. He would ask for more, later though. This hospital was unfamiliar. It didn’t seem like they were at the school. He needed to get his bearing first.
 
[i]Where were they[/i], he wondered briefly, nibbling a corner of the blood bag.

The anxiety-inducing smell of antiseptics and sheets laundered to an inhospitable scent of “clean” kept Christmas’s eyes closed longer than he liked. He heard the shuffling in the corner and presumed it to be a doctor or a nurse, because surely only hospitals smelled like disinfectant and medicine all the time, right?

He wasn’t wrong when he opened his eyes at last and took in an empty tray on the nightstand, forgotten by a nurse who had wanted to leave as soon as possible. An IV drip twinged at his left arm when he shifted and he let the prickling settle before properly waking up and surveying the room.

[color 8493ca]“Sander…?”[/color] he asked the figure seated beside the bed, the strangeness of the posture in an otherwise normal setting surprisingly a better indicator of the person than he expected.

“[color=cyan]Huh? Christmas?[/color]” -Sander turned around at the voice calling out his name, the blood bag forgotten in his hands.

The healer blinked back at his roommate, staring in place of the sentence he had forgotten. A dull pain lingered on the side of his head, but that wasn’t so pressing when he had so many things he wanted to say to Sander and not a single word would come out right.

He settled for [color 8493ca]”O-okay?”[/color] instead as a question of concern that also didn’t come out right.

Sander rose to his feet and turned around to hover above his roommate, leaning down with concern in his eyes. –“[color=cyan]How are you feeling?[/color]”

The question made sense in a roundabout way to Christmas, who took several seconds to slog through an answer, arriving at better version of his previous query, [color 8493ca]”Y-you’re okay?”[/color] His tongue felt thick, so the words came out slightly slurred, but comprehensible.

“[color=cyan]I’m fine. Not hurt at all.[/color]” -Sander let his gaze roamed all over Christmas once more, trying to catch sight of any injuries he might have missed –“[color=cyan]Anything’s hurting?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]” ’mm…some…”[/color] Christmas mumbled, surprised at the easy honesty. [color 8493ca]”I-I’m okay,”[/color] he corrected.

“[color=cyan] Do you need anything?[/color]”
 
A drop of blood from the plastic bag in his hand leaked out on his finger, and Sander brought the hand to his mouth without much thought, lapping at the red stain.  

Christmas watched the motion curiously, eyes slightly unfocused from a combination of painkillers and the mild aftereffects of a moderate concussion scrambling a bit of his thoughts and moods.

[color 8493ca]”I’m…okay,”[/color] he repeated, a small mote of frustration forming at his inability to construct any complex thoughts. Was this what it felt like to be nearly mindless? Just trying to ponder anything beyond what his eyes could see and what his brain could easily remember was a migraine of a struggle and his hand reached for the ribbon in his hair instinctively.

It wasn’t there. 

He checked the other side of his head, uncoordinated hands pawing and pulling clumsily at his hair.

Not there.

Not on his wrists. Not on Sander’s wrists. Not anywhere.

Panic mixed with the heavy weight of his body and Christmas felt his breaths hasten, hands pulling at the sheets and hoping the ribbon had just fallen off in there.

Sander’s hand froze right then as he noticed Christmas’ sudden shift in mood. He lowered his right hand, while his left immediately hid the blood bag behind him. 

He shouldn’t have done it in front of Christmas.
 
He had made the boy afraid. The realization sent chills down his spine, despite the vestige of fire that was building in his chest.
 
“[color=cyan]Uh… Christmas. I’m sorry. Please calm down.[/color]” -He said, his eyes widened. The blue was slightly darker now, tainted by the faintest shade of red. –“[color=cyan]I’ll…leave.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”N-no, no—r-ribbon. I can’t—”[/color] his breaths were running short and Sander was leaving and he didn’t know which was the scarier issue [color 8493ca]”--c-can’t find it. No—b-but don’t…l-leave.”[/color] The thoughts tumbled into one another and tears pricked at the edges of his vision. [color 8493ca]”I lost it…?”[/color] It felt like a crime.

“[color=cyan]Ribbon?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”I’m—I’m s-sorry.”[/color] The words broke under the opening sobs of tears and Christmas couldn’t understand why he was so emotional over it so vividly. Everything was either too much or too little and he wondered what had happened after that terrifying moment where bodies had piled all around him. He couldn’t remember, and everything felt too much for him to think about. Thoughts wouldn’t sequence themselves and in the middle of it all the roaring panic surged at the loss of a ribbon like it meant the loss of something more. 

He covered his face with his hands, realizing too late he was calling Sander’s name repeatedly in a voice so quiet he had almost missed it himself.

“[color=cyan]D-Don’t cry. Please.[/color]” -Sander couldn’t help but reached out for his roommate, touching Christmas’ hands with one of his own. He just kept his hand there, unsure of how else he could help, and the blond boy’s quiet voice calling out his name only made him feel worse. So he relied on old promises and haze memories instead –“[color=cyan]Hey. It’s alright. I’m here. I’m okay. You are okay. It’s fine.[/color]”

A warm hand against his grew hot to the touch, but Christmas didn’t dislike the heat. Shaking hands clutched at Sander’s instead while he rubbed his face on the sleeve of the hospital pajamas he had only just realized were on him. He pulled the hand closer to his cheek and turned onto his side, goosebumps rising across his skin from the radiating heat that swept away the morning chill of the room.

Minutes passed like that, then more.

Finally his voice found its bearings again and Christmas let out several trembling breaths before trying, once more, to speak.

[color 8493ca]”C-can’t find the—the ribbon. C-can’t give back to—to you.”[/color] He swallowed, the movement loosening the tightening muscles around his throat. [color 8493ca]”I’m s-sorry.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]It’s alright.[/color]” -Sander repeated, fingers moved tentatively in Christmas’ hold, running along his roommate’s cheek in motions that he hoped was soothing –“[color=cyan]You’re still here. That’s enough.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”You’re…still h-here,”[/color] Christmas repeated the words, the gentle touch smoothing down his crumpled nerves. [color 8493ca]”Th-thank you.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Until you tell me to leave.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”D-don’t leave,”[/color] the blond answered automatically, again surprised at his lack of inhibitions. He wanted to blame something that would make sense like the vague pounding in his head, because it felt unreal to say small things so readily. And yet more jumbled thoughts scattered onto his tongue and fell from his mouth almost without his control. [color 8493ca]”Do you…do you need…need blood?”[/color] The old question surfaced in imitation of another hospital room. Another time. Another place. But with the same actors.

“[color=cyan]I already got some.[/color]” -Sander answered immediately, though he still kept the blood bag out of side –“[color=cyan]…It’s safer, now. I got better. I can control it. A bit.[/color]” -He added after a few moments, a tentative smile stretching his lips.

Christmas mimicked the smile reflexively, the mirrored expression just as small.

[color 8493ca]”You did it,”[/color] he said, the words taken from another person, but they were the best encouragement he knew.

“[color=cyan]I didn’t. But the water gave it to me. It’s mine now.[/color]”- Sander’s smile seemed to grow wider, if only just –“[color=cyan]You don’t have to be afraid.[/color]”  

[color 8493ca]”Okay.”[/color] The agreement felt natural to him, with his face resting against Sander’s hand and a comfortable sense of detachment from the moment. Just enough, he thought, to keep him right where he wanted to be. Maybe it was too easy an answer, but words wouldn’t come well when he tried to think hard on them. [color 8493ca]”You—you don’t have to be afraid,”[/color] he repeated, testing the words and offering them back to Sander as well. The tears drying on his eyelashes were uncomfortable, so he rubbed at them with the back of his hand, still not letting go of Sander’s.

It had taken all of that time to process that Sander had been drinking blood before, despite the clarity of an old question. He looked expectantly up at the blood mage, blinking into red eyes.

[color 8493ca]”…St-still need to drink? S-sorry,”[/color] he mumbled, letting go of the hand he had been holding hostage. [color 8493ca]”D-didn’t mean to…interrupt.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]It’s fine. I’ll just…go outside.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”D-don’t leave.”[/color] 

“[color=cyan]B-But…is it okay if I drink here?[/color]”

Christmas nodded automatically, unconcerned with the content of the question. [color 8493ca]”Don’t leave,”[/color] he repeated quietly. [color 8493ca]”P-please.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Okay.[/color]” -Sander nodded easily, however, he still felt the need to reassure Christmas –“[color=cyan]It’ll be alright, I promise. I got better.[/color]”
 
The torn blood bag in his hand was growing warm from the heat of his own skin, so he turned around and assumed his previous position: seated, back leaned against the bed frame, face turned away from Christmas. Slow but steady, he brought the plastic bag to his lips and began drinking.   

Christmas didn’t know where the nerve came from. Maybe the impact against his head had shaken up his brain in just the right places, but he felt a disturbing lack of stress. He and anxiety had become bosom buddies throughout the years and to find his chest free of that weight, if just for the moment, felt almost terrifying in its lightness. His fingers brushed against Sander’s hair and he blinked in surprise.

[color 8493ca]”Soft.”[/color]

It was difficult to form words when heat was pouring down his throat and flooding his veins, so Sander’s only response to the feather-light touch was a blink. His focus remained on the blood bag and he kept on drinking. 

The heat climbed higher, so Sander tugged on the hem of his own shirt. Even with the thin fabric around his torso, the heat felt trapped in. After a few moments of pondering, he took it off, discarding the shirt at his feet.

Emboldened by the lack of protest and Sander’s calm acceptance, Christmas ran his fingers through the fine strands of hair, marveling at the silkiness and the different color growing out at the roots. It felt vaguely therapeutic, stroking soft hair, and it took him a moment longer to remember how he had petted his stuffed animal for the same attempt at comfort. But Sander clearly wasn’t a blue manatee, and that only bolstered his small joy.

[color 8493ca]”I like it,”[/color] he found himself blurting out again and it didn’t make sense how easily the words came out when he had so little control over them.

There were fingers running through his hair, and Sander wasn’t sure he liked it. He used to like it. Before. But it was a long time ago, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone got close enough to stroke his hair like this. The distance was…intimidating. Especially when the plastic bag had shrunk in his hand, before dropping soundlessly on the ground.
 
He caught the smaller hand in his bigger one. The grip was strong at first, then it loosened slowly. He pulled the fingers away from his hair and toward his cheek instead, turning his face to the side so he could press his lips against the refreshing coolness.
 
“[color=cyan]Me too. [/color]”

[color 8493ca]“Why…are there different colors? In your hair?”[/color]

The lips against his hand tickled a bit, and Christmas laughed in a brief and quiet burst of sound before a small fear struck and he coughed away the noise. [color 8493ca]”S-sorry.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Don’t have to…You’re here with me.[/color]” -Sander reminded his roommate absentmindedly, just as he pressed his nose against the faint pulse beneath Christmas’ wrist –“[color=cyan]I dyed my hair a while ago.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”How come?”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Gold doesn’t suit me.[/color]”

Christmas stared for a moment, picturing Sander with blond hair. 

[color 8493ca]”I think…you’d look great with either color.”[/color]

There it was again, the kind of unfiltered remark that felt so easy he thought there was something wrong with him—in a different way this time. 

[color 8493ca]”S-sorry, I keep…saying things.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Don’t stop, please.[/color]” -Sander said into Christmas’ palm, savoring the scent -”[color=cyan]I like listening to…your things.[/color]”

“[color=cyan]Let me.[/color]”

Christmas’s fingers pressed themselves hesitantly against Sander’s face, a more persistent touch in response.

[color 8493ca]”I like listening to you, too.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Do you now? I’m told I do not make good conversations.[/color]” 

[color 8493ca]”It’s okay. When—when you do, I like it. A-And your voice, too.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Thank you.[/color]” -Another inhale as Sander breathed in the heady coffee scent, leaning his head completely in Christmas’ hand.

“[color=cyan]Hey, can I share your blanket? It’s just…a little cold.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”Okay.”[/color] There was a small smile on Christmas’s face, but with one arm left still so the needle wouldn’t bother him and Sander clutching the other hand, he didn’t have any way to hide it, so he tried turning his head away, scared of something that didn’t make sense, but persisted out of habit.

Slowly, Sander stood up and crawled into the bed beside Christmas, mindful of the IV line and the blond boy’s bandaged neck. The single bed didn’t leave much leg room for him even when Christmas shifted over to make as much space as possible, but he supposed he didn’t mind very much. As long as there was Christmas’ warmth next to him. Just enough to ward off the inevitable frost of the withdrawal. Wordlessly, he threw one gentle arm over Christmas’ torso, just as his eyes were drifting shut.

Christmas listened to the steadying breaths for several minutes longer before letting his eyes drift close as well, comfortable in the warmth of Sander’s body heat and presence. A nurse who eventually came in to replace the blood bag stared, but didn’t say a word. The patients would be gone soon, and she didn’t want to disturb the sleeping X mark, especially if he had made his way here just to sleep with someone. They were USARILN subnaturals, but it didn’t abate her fear. She finished her business quickly, though carefully, taking great pains to make extraction and insertion of a new needle as painless as possible so the sleeping healer wouldn’t cry out or wake up. A soft whimper and light stirring, but the boy’s sleep resumed without any real interruption. Satisfied, the nurse gathered up the discarded bag and equipment, leaving the two behind with a sigh of relief.[/hider]
[hider=Recognition]
[color=silver][center]𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟝, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕃𝕒 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕒, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟   / / 𝟘𝟡𝟚𝟘[/center] [/color]
Christmas woke up to a chilly morning that outlined with minute precision the shape of the warm arm draped over his torso. The hospital building didn’t seem like it had seen any substantial upgrades to internal temperature regulation systems for decades and the uneven sputtering of the heater clattered quietly from the aging vents. Without thinking, he placed a hand on the arm laid across him, holding the heat carefully.

Sometime during his sleep the hospital staff had removed the IV and left behind a patch of gauze to staunch the blood. He shifted the arm slowly, feeling minimal discomfort. The ache on the side of his head had also mostly faded, the injury nothing severe in the end despite how thoroughly it had knocked him out.

The thought brought back memories of the battle and how, once again, he had been entirely useless. He at least lasted a bit longer this time before falling unconscious, but that was no improvement. Somehow, he had made it through, and he was willing to bet it was almost all luck.

The understanding was humiliating and he was shocked to find that his pride still cared after all this time. His light touch on the arm laying over him turned into a hesitant grip at the surge of shame.

But as much as he wanted to wallow in self-pity for much longer, his body had other plans—restroom plans.

A check on Sander sleeping peacefully beside him and Christmas had to resist the urge to touch his roommate’s hair again. Instead he slid out slowly, feeling the stings and aches from the battle’s aftermath. Standing up after laying down so long was also disorienting and he spent the better portion of the next ten minutes just gripping the small table nearby for balance.

The hallway was empty when he emerged from the room, and he quailed at the thought of having to ask someone where the bathroom was. The sign of the men’s bathroom on a door just down the hallway caught his eye and he sighed in relief, stumbling quickly into the room.

A guard was waiting for him when he stepped out of the bathroom and Christmas heard a quiet whimper that he realized seconds later had been [i]his[/i] quiet whimper.

[color f7976a]”Headed somewhere?”[/color] the soldier asked, voice gruff, but otherwise calm.

[color 8493ca]”N-no…?”[/color] 

[color f7976a]”Back to your room, then,”[/color] the man ordered, peering suspiciously down at the healer.

Christmas nodded, shuffling back into the hospital room he had come from while the guard watched to make sure he obeyed.

Just as Christmas entered the room, Sander stirred from his sleep. It took the blood mage a few minutes to finally wake up fully, just in time to catch sight of his roommate at the doorway.
 
“[color=cyan]Hey. Morning.[/color]” -With a lopsided grin on his lips, Sander greeted, voice still slightly hoarse of disuse. The grogginess from the withdrawal clung to him still, but he was feeling much better compared to last night. Before Christmas could return his greetings, Sander was already out of bed, rolling his shoulders to get the stiffness out of them. His hair, as expected, was still a mess, so Sander ran fingers through the clumped strands, hoping to straighten them out as much as he could.  

Christmas ducked his head at the greeting, curling his lips inward to suppress the instinctive smile. He didn’t succeed, so he settled for rubbing his nose instead, hand over his mouth. The downward gaze finally drew his attention fully to his hospital pajamas and the slippers he had automatically put on earlier when he was in a rush to use the bathroom. It dawned on him that he wanted his usual clothes again, though he was in no position to demand anything more than what he had.

He peeked back up at Sander, who was stretching and combing fingers through messy brown hair. Half-naked. He wasn’t the only one who needed different clothes and Christmas looked away from the sight, shoulders and neck warming up with embarrassment and something more when he remembered Sander had been half-naked since the previous day.

[color 8493ca]”M-morning,”[/color] he mumbled back, turning back to Sander with a tiny wave because his hands suddenly felt awkward and unwieldy. [color 8493ca]”How—how are you?”[/color]

“[color=cyan]I’m good. Feeling much better now.[/color]” -Sander turned his eyes on Christmas then, and he wasted no time walking over to the blond boy –“[color=cyan]How about you?[/color]”

Christmas nodded, then realized that wasn’t an answer.

[color 8493ca]”I’m…I’m fine, but…um…”[/color] His voice trailed off as he tried to avoid looking straight at Sander. [color 8493ca]”C-clothes…um…didn’t notice before. I’m sorry.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]What’s wrong with your clothes?[/color]” -Sander’s voice was laced with concern as he stepped closer. 

Christmas locked his hands behind his back, grasping them tightly while he looked down. 

[color 8493ca]”Your…your clothes…um…”[/color] He could barely hear himself. [color 8493ca]”Y-your shirt?”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Oh. I took it off earlier.[/color]” -Sander shrugged, still largely unware of his own indecency. There was a shirt he found on his chair, but the heat from his high earlier forced him to take it off  –“[color=cyan]I…go put it on?[/color]”

Christmas nodded, swallowing visibly and not meeting Sander’s gaze.

After Sander had put his shirt back on, he turned back to his roommate, eyeing the smaller boy curiously –“[color=cyan]Are you…okay? Do you want to lie down a bit more?[/color]”

Mostly. He was mostly okay, Christmas decided, but the room felt a bit too warm all of the sudden. Maybe the heater was finally working properly. His hand plucked at the loose pajama pants, before raising up halfway to fiddle with his ribbon. The ribbon that wasn’t there anymore, and that bothered him. He stared at the floor for several seconds, parsing why losing the ribbon still dragged on him so heavily, but the reasoning wouldn’t come. He just knew he wanted one again—and he tried to assure himself that it would have happened eventually. The previous ribbon had been too dirty and damaged from the harsh fight on the first night at the Institute. A matter of time, really, but he had wanted it to be on his terms. Somewhere, somehow, he had grown just the smallest bit tired of not doing what he wanted.

[color 8493ca]”…I…I want to go…b-buy something,”[/color] he murmured, voice shaking from the irrational fear that Sander would, for some reason, forbid him from doing that. 

“[color=cyan]Go where?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”Clothes and—and…”[/color] It embarrassed him to admit he felt vain enough to want a ribbon after everything that had happened and after everything he was trying not to panic over and think about. The sentence finished eventually. [color 8493ca]”…a ribbon. O-or, um…”[/color] and audacious suggestions broke through unfiltered, something Christmas was just as grateful for as he was scared of, [color 8493ca]”…two…f-for you and…and me.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Clothes.[/color]” -Sander mumbled, mulling over the thought. So they were no longer at the school. It explained the different surroundings. But why? More missions? That was his only guess. However, it seemed that they were in no rush for now, so he supposed he could enjoy the moment –“[color=cyan]Yeah. We need clothes. And new ribbons. Maybe…I can ask one of the guards? They’ll bring us new stuffs.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”O-Okay,”[/color] Christmas replied, relief coloring his tone. He sighed out the tension and looked up at Sander, double-checking with a questioning glance if Sander was sure.

Sander moved toward the door then and peered outside, looking for a guard. Fortunately, there was one just outside. The man narrowed his eyes as Sander approached, but he made no other move.
 
“[color=cyan]Uh…We need more clothes.[/color]” -Sander said simply, returning the man’s cold gaze.

[color f7976a]”…There’s a store one block over,”[/color] the guard said, nodding with his head in the general direction.

“…[color=cyan]But we are not supposed to leave?[/color]”

[color f7976a]”You can leave,”[/color] the soldier answered grudgingly, [color f7976a]”but you can’t go far.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Can…you go for me? Isn’t it safer that way?[/color]”

The man looked at Sander incredulously.

[color f7976a]”The soldiers need to keep an eye on things in the hospital. And certain students. If you want something minor, you can get it yourself.”[/color]

Sander blinked, taking a moment to actually process the information. They were letting him leave. That was…unexpected. Then again, they had never specify that [i]he[/i] had to remain within the premise of the school. Did they know about the Change? How?
 
Wordlessly, Sander turned and went back inside the room, closing the door behind.

Christmas was seated on the bed and blinking at his knees when Sander returned. He looked up reflexively at the sound of door opening and closing, a half-smile on his face that he quickly disguised as another itchy nose.

[color 8493ca]”H-how was it?”[/color]

“[color=cyan]They said…we can leave to get it.[/color]” -Sander breathed out slowly. Despite his casual tone, he seemed to be deep in thought.

[color 8493ca]”O-oh…then—I can…I can go. D-did you want anything?”[/color]

“[color=cyan]…Alone?[/color]” 

Christmas blinked, then nodded hesitantly.

[color 8493ca]”…I’ll—I’ll be back soon…”[/color] But his mind was on the last time he had said that, when a shopping trip had turned into disaster in an alley. And he was embarrassed for thinking so highly of himself that an incident like that counted as a catastrophe. [color 8493ca]”Wh-what’s your, um, f-favorite color?”[/color]

“[color=cyan]…You shouldn’t go alone.[/color]” -Sander frowned, ignoring the question. His mind was set on the memories of his last encounter with Ernie. As far as he knew, the other Aberration was still alive and well. Good for him. But not so much for Christmas.

[color 8493ca]”I’ll be back soon…”[/color] the blond boy repeated, tension settling around his shoulders again.

Sander frowned again. That was not a solution. Ernie could still find Christmas out there. Not to mention…other people. His eyes fell on the patch of bandage around Christmas’ neck, and his frown only deepened.
 
“[color=cyan]I’ll go with you.[/color]” -Simple words, but the decision behind them weighed heavily on his mind. It had been so long, and for good reasons. Even now, when the Change had favoured him so much, Sander still wasn’t sure he was making the right choice.

[color 8493ca]”Is—is that okay?”[/color] Christmas’s tentative stare was directed at Sander’s jaw, where the lines of his roommate’s face had set firm with the frown. [color 8493ca]”I’ll be q-quick.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]It’s fine.[/color] -Sander racked a hand through his hair once more, before answering –“[color=cyan]I’ll be fine.[/color]”

The second they were out of the door, however, it quickly turned out [i]not[/i] fine. Neither of them had noticed their lack of payment solutions until the same guard on patrol in the corridor eyed the small boy in hospital pajamas (with no pockets) and the half-naked X mark before calling out to them.

[color f7976a]”Headed somewhere?”[/color] His walked towards them, rifle in hand, though the pose was at least relaxed, even if he was ready to whip the gun towards them and fire at any second.

Christmas flinched at the approach and stared fearfully at the guard for a moment. He gulped and found a half-answer to the question.

[color 8493ca]”B-buying clothes,”[/color] he managed, trying not to hide behind Sander in case that made them look more suspicious.

[color f7976a]”…IDs?”[/color] the soldier asked, already pulling out his phone to cross-check the information.

Christmas stared, eyes wide. He had no idea where his ID was. No one had ever brought his previous clothes back, either, and he didn’t have the nerve to ask. 

“[color=cyan]I left it in my room.[/color]” -Sander’s eyes flicked to his roommate for a moment. From the boy’s expression, it seemed he was in a similar situation -”[color=cyan]We both did.[/color]”

The soldier sighed heavily, of half a mind to send them both back to their rooms and save himself the hassle, but a thought about the unstable Aberration they all had to guard carefully came to mind. He didn’t need any more headaches than he already had and his commanding officer had already cleared them for restricted movements within a certain perimeter.

[color f7976a]”Stay,”[/color] he commanded the two, swiping and tapping quickly on his phone, the motion habit by now.

He opened a separate line to the commanding officer, so the minor inquiry wouldn’t need to be broadcast to everyone.

[color f7976a]”Hospital unit here, sir. Got two subs with no IDs and they want to go shopping.”[/color]

He paused while he listened to the response from the other end.

[color f7976a]”No, doesn’t look like it.”[/color]

A quick glance at Sander and Christmas and he focused again on the conversation.

[color f7976a]”Understood.”[/color]

The call ended after a minute and the soldier nodded at the two of them, reciting something that sounded like official policy, [color f7976a]”For essentials and minor expenditures in cases of emergency, USARILN staff and approved students are allowed to transfer the costs of purchases to the Institute if they can prove affiliation.”[/color] He nodded at the thin cuff that was slightly visible under the long pant leg of Christmas’s pajamas. [color f7976a]”That’ll work as proof. Tell them to send the bill to USARILN East.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Alright. Thanks.[/color]” -Sander offered the soldier a curt nod, before walking past him. He kept his eyes forward as he moved, still far too occupied with his own thoughts and doubts to notice much else. It was funny, how he was so hung up on such a small thing. He got better now. He could handle this. Fortunately, his sated Stigma stayed relatively quiet.
 
After a few minutes following the signs displayed thorough the hospital, Sander found himself standing at the entrance. Quite a few people there gave both him and Christmas wary stares, but they turned away as soon as Sander turned to look back, so he just assumed there were no trouble brewing.
 
“[color=cyan]Where do you want to go?[/color]” -Sander raised an eyebrow, turning around to look at his roommate.

[color 8493ca]”A-anywhere that sells clothes…”[/color] he mumbled, looking around hesitantly. It was a completely unfamiliar town and he had no idea where to go. Forethought wasn’t his forte—never had been. Luckily, a rectangular rock sign displaying the hospital’s name nearby had a hard plastic map embedded in the back, though the map only noted hospital entrances and exits clearly, leaving the rest blank save for the buildings clustered around the hospital.

Tiny print a block north denoted a “Plato’s Closet” and Christmas vaguely recalled the name from his hometown as well. It was a big chain of small stores and he passed by one every day on the walk home from school, until he finally entered it one day. The memory felt far away.

[color 8493ca]”H-here?”[/color] he said, pointing at the map and turning back to Sander.

Sander noticed the scents first, despite everything. Nothing he hadn’t felt before; USARILN East’s population was quite sizable. But those were…subnaturals. People like him. Not regulars. It didn’t mean that they smelled different at all. They were just…different.
 
Sander had to fight the urge to scoff at his own baseless fear. There was nothing to be nervous about. Yet, a heaviness coiled in his guts anyway. He turned his eyes to the crowded street ahead, and let out a long breath. He could do this. For his own sake, as well as Christmas’.
 
“[color=cyan]Sure. Let’s go. We’re walking or…?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”I-I guess so…”[/color] Christmas tried to avoid eye contact with the people around them, and most of them did the same after a cursory glance at his unusual attire going out. 

They had barely left the safety of the hospital grounds when a young woman in a fitted pantsuit jogged up to them, her light makeup and styled, brown hair carefully constructed to mimic the glamorous, yet minimalist style that was all the rage these days—the type of look that seemed simple, but actually took hours of preening to accomplish.

The microphone in her hand ringed with a square of blue and white that flashed the station name at them was enough indication of who she was.

Several seconds later, her cameraman joined her as well. 

[color f7976a]”Hello there!”[/color] she greeted them, voice chipper, [color f7976a]”I’m Marianne Forhan of KLPN and I’d like to interview you two as part of our channel’s special on subnaturals and the nearby disaster in Wisford!”[/color]

She seemed undeterred by their marks and lack of proper attire, turning instead to her cameraman and beckoning him to pan over their faces and marks.

[color f7976a]”We’re not live yet, but if you’d like to come back to the station with us, it’ll be much more comfortable than an interview here.”[/color] She flashed another bright smile at them as the corresponding news van rolled up nearby.

As soon as the stranger approached them, Sander walked up to put himself between her and Christmas. The woman didn’t seem to be hostile though, but instead appeared to be a report of some sort. Sander squinted, trying to remember those rare days when his father took him to work. He recalled the scenario, if anything: a report rushing up to meet the person of interest, the cameraman following closely behind to record.
 
At least they weren’t ‘live’, at the moment. Sander didn’t think putting his face on the television would be a very good idea. Not after what happened.
 
“[color=cyan]Uh. No. We’re busy.[/color]”

[color f7976a]”That’s fine! We can interview you while we take you around to wherever it is you need to go. And it should be easier for you two, right?”[/color] She glanced meaningfully at their clothes. 

“[color=cyan]No…Not gonna be on TV. Sorry.[/color]” -A twinge of fear formed in Sander’s stomach at the thought of his face on national television. Hastily, he grabbed Christmas’ hand and began to walk away -”[color=cyan]We really have to go.[/color]”

[color f7976a]”Hang on!”[/color] The woman ran after them, grabbing the lagging Christmas by the shoulder. [color f7976a]”It doesn’t have to be both of you then! Just him would be fine.”[/color]

She looked determined, and her grip on Christmas was quite firm. The healer trembled under her intense gaze, his breaths coming in short gasps from the familiar way a hand tightened on his shoulder. Panic stirred and Christmas looked to Sander for an answer.

“[color=cyan]No.[/color]” -Sander frowned, letting go of Christmas’ hand in order to catch the reporter’s offending wrist, his brows creased in frustration. Fear built in him, and so did something far darker. Something that told about the lilac scented blood under the soft wrist in his grip.
 
But he digressed.
 
“[color=cyan]Please.[/color]”

She stared back at him, unfazed, but her cameraman seemed to panic, backing away quickly in case something worse happened.

[color f7976a]”Amateur,”[/color] she muttered, glancing quickly at her retreating partner before turning back to Sander. A moment longer of an impromptu staring match and she let go of Christmas’s shoulder. [color f7976a]”I’m sorry for scaring you,”[/color] she said, watching the expressions of both boys, [color f7976a]”but an interview isn’t as bad as you think it’ll be. Not with me at least. I can’t say the same for any of the other reporters, so it’d be a good idea to take me up on my offer. Or at least let me ask you some questions on a quick drive around the block. We’ll even take you where you need to go.”[/color]

Sander only frowned, turning to Christmas to hear the boy’s opinion.

[color 8493ca]”…J-Just a quick drive? R-really?”[/color]

[color f7976a]”Really,”[/color] the woman smiled, kinder this time, though there was a hardness to her gaze that didn’t seem directed at them.

[color 8493ca]”…Clothes store,”[/color] Christmas admitted, looking at Sander to check if that was fine. [color 8493ca]”B-but if…if he doesn’t like it…”[/color]

[color f7976a]”Don’t worry, I won’t interview your friend if he doesn’t want me to. And I won’t ask you too much; just a few quick questions.”[/color]

Christmas’s eyes darted between the two of them, but when the reporter beckoned towards the open doors at the van’s back, he held on to Sander’s hand and didn’t move just yet.

[color 8493ca]”…S-sorry…do you—do you want to?”[/color]
 
Sander sighed, looking between Christmas and the reporter, weighing his options. After all, Christmas had wanted it. Sander didn’t mind walking, but he wasn’t sure about the blond boy.
 
“[color=cyan]Alright. If that’s what you want.[/color]” -Sander nodded, letting go of the woman’s wrist. His gaze shifted to the cameraman –“[color=cyan]But…no filming.[/color]”

[color f7976a]”Just him, then,”[/color] she insisted, leading the two of them into the back of the van where another man stared fearfully at them, mirroring Christmas’s terrified gaze. 

When they were both seated and the van was in motion, the woman pulled out a small notepad and a pen, quietly reminding the cameraman to make sure the focus was only on Christmas’s face.

[color f7976a]”So, what’s your name?”[/color] she asked the shaking boy.

[color 8493ca]”C-Christmas,”[/color] he replied, not meeting her eyes.

She jotted the name down and continued, undeterred by his slow, faltering speech.

[color f7976a]”What’s your power?”[/color]

He paused, staring up at her now with eyes as wide as saucers. 

[color 8493ca]”…N-not sure if I…”[/color] he gulped.

[color f7976a]”All right, you can’t tell me that. How about this, then: how old are you?”[/color]

[color 8493ca]”…Eight-eighteen.”[/color]

[color f7976a]”How long have you had your powers?”[/color]

[color 8493ca]”M-more than a month.”[/color]

[color f7976a]”What was it like receiving powers?”[/color]

[color 8493ca]”…Um…”[/color] he stared at the floor of the van, feeling the subtle vibrations of the car’s movements under his feet. [color 8493ca]”…R-really weird.”[/color]

[color f7976a]”Can you describe it?”[/color]

He didn’t respond for a while, but eventually shook his head with a feeble [color 8493ca]”S-sorry.”[/color]

The woman leaned back in her seat with a sigh, not making any headway with this particular type. And while most of the brazen sorts would talk more than they needed to under force or coertion, the quiet, fearful sorts would simply clam up. And it wasn’t like she could keep them indefinitely, given how USARILN East in particular tended to operate. They could be out of town and gone in half an hour if an order came.

[color f7976a]”I’ll skip to the real questions then, if you don’t mind,”[/color] she said, flicking deftly to another page in her notepad. [color f7976a]”Tell me about yourself.”[/color]

Christmas stared at the camera like a deer caught in headlights. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but nothing really came out besides quiet stutters.

She watched him a moment longer, the floundering look of someone who had never been asked that type of question obvious from her perspective. But even in that case, people could still come up with some sort of satisfactory response. This boy, on the other hand, looked ready to jump out the door. Of course these types existed, and in her years in journalism she’d had to handle all sorts in a variety of situations, but the fear on his face was disheartening, especially after she’d done her best to be accommodating. Expected, given the current state of affairs between subnaturals and regular people, but still discouraging. It was an old trick for the verbally reluctant, but it worked, so she flipped to an empty page in her notepad and handed it to him with the pen tucked into the spiral binding across the top. He took it automatically, thoughtlessly, the reaction of someone afraid to offend.

[color f7976a]”I’m going to ask you a few questions, okay? And you can just write down your answers—”[/color] She stopped at the look of surprise on his face. It persisted much longer than a reactionary expression and he seemed to marvel at the pen and the notepad like he had never seen the tools before. [color f7976a]”Why do you look so surprised?”[/color]

It was her turn to raise both eyebrows when the boy put pen to paper and wrote out a response to a question that hadn’t even been intentional. The movements were slow and unsteady, shaky and unsure, and she saw him cross out words and think on more, but he was at least answering them to the best of his ability.

[color f7976a]”All right. Let’s try this again. Tell me about yourself.”[/color]

She waited until the pen stopped moving.

[color f7976a]”How was high school? Did you have a lot of friends? Maybe a girlfriend?”

“What were your best subjects in school?”

“Do you like your name? Or would you change it to something else?”

“What’s your biggest fear?”

“Was it hard making the transition from your previous life to USARILN East?”

“Have they sent you out on a lot of missions?”

“Have you killed any Dreamcatcher monsters or worked with groups who have?”

“Do you still keep in touch with anyone from home?”

“How does USARILN East train its subnaturals?”

“What are you studying in USARILN East aside from combat?”

“Any favorite sport? Hobbies?”

“Do you have any pets?”
[/color]

For each question she waited until he was done writing, even if sometimes it seemed like he only scribbled one word to a question that deserved much more. It wasn’t as effective a dialogue as she would have liked considering the one-sided nature of the conversation, but Marianne took what she could get. There’d be ways for the editing team and the station to make it more visually appealing later, but she made sure to tap the cameraman’s leg and remind him to pan towards the ankle cuff as well, which was the most easily recognizable proof that this was a legitimate USARILN subnatural.

Finally, she concluded the interview with [color f7976a]”Were you in Wisford during the attack just several days ago?”[/color]

When Christmas’s pen stopped this time, she shouted to the driver to take them to the nearest clothing retailer. The van parked on the curb in front of the store and the reporter helped Christmas out first, patting his arm with a brief [color f7976a]”Thank you”[/color] before climbing back into the car. A quick skim of his tiny handwriting on the notepad revealed more disappointment than proper answers and plenty of scribbled out lines or half-finished thoughts where she had moved on to another question before he had completed an answer. It was her mistake, assuming his longer-than-usual pauses were his signs that he was done. 

Still, what he did answer was enough for a segment, and what they had recorded of his demeanor was perfect for the sort of controversial, humanizing story she wanted to present when the overwhelming popular opinion was to isolate them for everyone’s safety. 

Throughout the interview, Sander remained silent, the lines of his face hardened into cold impassiveness. He wasn’t sure what Christmas wrote down though, and whether the school would approve of them answering interviews, but seeing as how the van wasn’t surrounded by armored trucks yet, he decided to just keep his eyes on the cameraman instead.
 
The man returned Sander’s gaze occasionally, a terrified expression etched on his face.
 
Fortunately, the interview was over soon enough. They dropped him and Christmas right in front of the clothing store. As soon as the van disappeared from view, Sander turned to his roommate, placing a hand on the blond boy’s shoulder.
 
“[color=cyan]You’re alright?[/color]”

Christmas stiffened briefly at the touch, but relaxed within seconds, nodding excessively because his mind was on other things—or other words left behind on a familiar notepad.

[color 8493ca]”F-fine—I’m fine.”[/color] He nodded a few more times to reinforce the assertion for himself, eyes on the windowed displays of used, brand-name clothing—Plato’s Closet specialties. Instead of going in, he looked at Sander, waiting if his roommate wanted to go anywhere else.

“[color=cyan]We’re going inside?[/color]” -Sander titled his head slightly at his roommate’s gaze, confused.

Relieved that Sander hadn’t changed his mind, Christmas shuffled inside first, looking astoundingly out of place in hospital clothes and even hospital slippers. A bell over the door announced their presence and several of the customers inside shouted at the sight of two subnaturals in hospital patient-wear. In a corner, a teenage girl screamed and cowered.

The manager—a man in his late 20’s or early 30’s with a neat comb over—rushed out from the back room at the commotion, stopping dead in his tracks when he finally saw what had spooked everyone else. The two of them looked unnatural dressed like that—even for this day and age—and the manager backed up against the wall behind the counter, afraid to make a move and entirely misunderstanding the situation from the fearful reactions of the patrons around him.

[color f7976a]”Who—who are you?! What do you want?!”[/color] he stammered, pulling out a small knife from under the counter that had, thus far, only seen use as a fruit peeler.

Christmas flinched at the reactions, edging closer to Sander reflexively.

Sander grimaced slightly when the variety of scents hit him. Worse, one of the employees had pulled out a knife as well, further escalating the situation. He let out a breath before finally speaking up. 

“[color=cyan]…We just want to buy some clothes. We’ll leave afterward.[/color]” -He stepped in front of Christmas then, holding out his hands.

[color f7976a]”Go—go somewhere else!”[/color] the man shouted, his grip on the knife shaking. [color f7976a]”I’ll call the police!”[/color]

[color f7976a]”Just leave us alone!”[/color] a woman screamed from behind a rack of clothes, shaking in fear.

Christmas pulled on Sander’s shirt, stepping almost entirely behind the taller boy in response to the verbal onslaught. 

He was just as afraid.

[color 8493ca]”C-can—can go if—if you want.”[/color] The trembling in his voice only grew worse the harder he tried to speak normally.

The experience was almost…unreal. Sander knew what sort of treatment to expect; he had been a subnatural for far too long, enough to put away those naïve optimism. Yet, it was still hard to deal with when expectations turned out to be reality. Sander stood very still then, unsure of what to do next. At least at the Facility, people had guns.
 
The tug on his shirt reminded him that Christmas was still there.
 
“[color=cyan]…It’s alright.[/color]” -He reassured the blond boy –“[color=cyan]Do [i]you[/i] want to leave?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”D-don’t want tr-trouble for—for you,”[/color] he replied in an almost whisper, eyes on the manager’s knife. He stepped back towards the entrance, nearly tripping over his own feet in panic. Sander’s arm was behind him this time, steadying the balance automatically while they moved backwards in unison and exited the store.

The street was host to several restaurants and more clothing stores, luckily, and the two wandered to a second, much smaller place in relative silence. The clothes here weren’t as unique and stylish, but the aging man at the counter only narrowed his eyes at them, keeping mercifully silent even though he followed them from rack to rack, standing just close enough to make it clear he was watching.

Sander wasted no time looking through the racks of clothes. Hardly the brand he would usually buy, but he supposed it would do. Anything was better than the flimsy hospital shirt he currently had on. Quickly looking through the available selection, Sander managed to snatch several items: two pairs of jeans, one plaid button-up shirt and several T-shirts, as well as a thick blue hoodie. There was no need to try them on; Sander already knew his sizes too well. Once that was done, Sander turned back to Christmas, patiently waiting for his roommate to finish.

The blond boy seemed to be fumbling, though. 

“[color=cyan]You’re alright over there?[/color]” -Sander asked as he walked over, bundle of clothes in hand. 

Christmas let go of a shirt he had pulled partially from the rack, looking towards Sander like he was lost.

[color 8493ca]”S-sorry, I, um, d-don’t know which to get…”[/color]

He snatched a few shirts and a pair of pants at random.

[color 8493ca]”We—we can go.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]…Those aren’t your size.[/color]” -Sander looked at the shirts in Christmas’ hands, raising an eyebrow –“[color=cyan]Do you need any help? I can help you look?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”…Um…”[/color] Christmas looked at the motley of colors in his hands, figuring the path of least resistance was to quickly leave so they wouldn’t get into any trouble. But the idea of Sander helping him choose clothes was appealing in a peaceful, pleasant way. 

He nodded, eventually, but added a brief [color 8493ca]”O-only if you w-want to…”[/color]

“[color=cyan]I don’t mind.[/color]” -Sander flashed his roommate a brief smile, glancing around quickly to find a place to deposit his bundle. Spotting an empty bench in the corner, Sander walked over and dropped the clothes he had picked out. With that done, he walked back to Christmas and examined the shirt he just pulled out a few moments earlier. 

It wasn’t hard to find something he thought would fit his roommate. However, he wasn’t sure about the exact size. 

“[color=cyan]Do you have a changing room?[/color]” -He turned to the old man then, tone still polite despite the other’s obvious disdain.

The owner only nodded, pointing toward a curtained room in a corner. 

Sander picked out a few more items, including better shoes than hospital slippers, and looked expectantly at Christmas, who took the clothes from Sander’s hands carefully and eyed the changing room like something would come out of it and attack him.

[color 8493ca]”W-we can just go if—if you want…sorry for…t-taking so long.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]It’s fine. You should try these on. See if everything fits.[/color]” -Sander only smiled. He turned toward the changing room then, beckoning Christmas. 

Another glance at the irritated owner and Christmas stopped protesting, stepping inside the room with Sander to escape the silently glaring man. When the changing room curtain covered the entrance behind him Christmas let out a small sigh, recuperating from the unpleasant hovering of the store owner. 

[color 8483ca]”S-sorry…shouldn’t have—have left the hospital…”[/color]

“[color=cyan]It’s alright. I told you. Don’t have to be sorry around me.[/color]” -Sander replied absentmindedly, far too occupied sorting through the mound of clothes he had picked out. A light blue shirt caught his eyes, so he held it up for Christmas -”[color=cyan]I think this would suit you.[/color]”

Christmas watched curiously until Sander pulled out a pale blue shirt. It would suit him? He had never given that sort of fashionable concern much thought so he just blinked at the shirt before taking it in both hands.

[color 8493ca]”So we’ll, um, just take this one…then.”[/color] He waited for Sander to leave first.

“[color=cyan]You should try it on first. I don’t know your size.[/color]”

Christmas stared at him, unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t the first time Sander had shown that strange lack of social mannerisms, and he probably shouldn’t have thought it was a problem by now, but he still felt that twinge of embarrassment that always came with taking off his clothes, even in private.

The shirt did fit and Christmas stared at his reflection in surprise. He liked it. The shirt, the color, the situation—even with its shortcomings.

[color 8493ca]”Th-thank you,”[/color] he said softly, tugging on the shirt hem from embarrassment and gratitude rolled into one.

“[color=cyan]It looks good.[/color]” -Sander smiled, though a wrinkle on the shirt’s collar caught his eyes –“[color=cyan]May I?[/color]

He didn’t know what Sander was referring to, so Christmas just nodded.

[color 8493ca]”D-don’t have to ask…s-sorry.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Don’t have to be.[/color]” -Sander reminded gently, reaching for the collar of Christmas’ new shirt and adjusting it -”[color=cyan]There.[/color]”

“[color=cyan]You should try everything else, too.[/color]” -Sander suggested, gesturing at the bundle of clothes. 

A brief moment of hesitation and Christmas complied, trying on the various shirts, pants, and shoes and setting aside the ones that didn’t fit until they had curated a selection of clothes that wouldn’t sag around his small frame. Despite the various no-name brands and different styles of sizing, most of the clothes ended up in the XS or XXS range, especially where men’s clothing was concerned. Compared to most of the “small”s and “medium”s in the menswear racks, Christmas’s clothes looked childishly tiny. Finally finished with the large bundle of clothes Sander had picked out, Christmas was changing out of the pants he had kept on for the past few shirts and reaching for the hospital clothes lying nearby when Sander noticed.

“[color=cyan]…Uh. You don’t have to wear your old clothes, you know.[/color]”

He looked questioningly at Sander.

“[color=cyan]Do you prefer the hospital clothes?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”N-no.”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Then you don’t have to. Just wear the new clothes.[/color]” -As he spoke, Sander began to strip as well, reaching for his own bundle of clothes. Moments later, he had already discarded the dirty clothes at his feet, sporting a fresh white T-shirt with jeans. The scent of cheap detergent was thick in the fabric, but he supposed it was better than the stench of grime from the battle. 

[color 8493ca]”O-okay,”[/color] Christmas said, following his lead and leaving the new clothes on. Most of the clothes in the small store were secondhand and lacked the usual tags and anti-theft devices that more professional stores had, but that just made it easier for him to justify keeping it on. He still picked up the hospital clothes afterwards, though, watching Sander out of the corner of his eye and trying to keep his gaze focused on the bundle in his hands. 

[color 8493ca]”Thank you,”[/color] he said again quietly, tucking his hands into the folds of the clothes he was carrying so they wouldn’t feel so awkward.

Once he was done adjusting his new clothes, Sander gave Christmas a quick glance before pulling the curtain open and stepped outside. The owner was already waiting for them; the old man probably stood outside the whole time or something. Regardless, Sander informed him that the school would reimburse any charges later, and the grumpy old man finally let them leave after totaling up the costs and giving the local police a call to be sure. When there was no outright denial of service, he reluctantly let them go with full plastic shopping bags.
[/hider]
[hider=Relief]
[color=silver][center]𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟝, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕃𝕒 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕒, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟   / / ~𝟙𝟚𝟘𝟘[/center] [/color]
On the crowded street once more, Sander looked around, catching sight of a McDonald just around the corner. Food didn’t seem like a bad idea right now, especially when he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten something.
 
“[color=cyan]Want something to eat?[/color]” -Sander turned to Christmas, pointing at the red and yellow sign.

No longer so out of place in hospital clothing, Christmas nodded gratefully, his quietly rumbling stomach in agreement. He had eaten whatever they had given him in the hospital, but most of the food had been bland—albeit filling. Fast food sounded good at the moment, and eating with Sander was—he glanced away quickly—definitely a good thing.

Sander made a beeline for the counter as soon as they stepped into the fast food restaurant, uncaring of the fearful glances thrown his way. Looking up at the display behind the cashiers, he was greeted with so many choices, definitely far more than what he had seen the last time he came.
 
“[color=cyan]I’ll….get whatever. Just…well…a lot.[/color]” -He mumbled his order, obviously distracted by the flickering display above.

[color f7976a]”So…one—one of everything, then?”[/color] The teenage girl behind the counter seemed almost afraid to touch the register. [color f7976a]”C-cash or credit?”[/color] But the look in her eyes was practically pleading for the subnaturals to leave.

“[color=cyan]Erhm…USARILN East will contact you about reimbursement.[/color]”

[color f7976a]”Okay,”[/color] she squeaked, inputting the order and running off to inform the manager, who had disappeared into the small office to the side and seemed hellbent on staying there. The girl eventually returned, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. [color f7976a]”W-we’ll call your number when your order’s ready,”[/color] she informed Sander, sliding the long receipt just a few millimeters towards him before snapping her hand back like she was afraid a fire would break out on the counter.

“Thank you.” -Sander took the receipt and turned around, looking for an empty spot. Despite the lunch rush, the restaurant was actually emptying out, since many customers didn’t deal with the presence of two subnaturals very well. Sander did feel a bit guilty about disrupting these people’s day, but he just had to. There was no other way.

So he sat down in a random table, waiting for Christmas to finish up ordering. The girl looked ready to bolt when she saw yet another subnatural coming up to order. The look on her face—fear, distaste, aversion, [i]disgust[/i]—didn’t escape the blond boy and he turned away instead, hurrying to Sander’s table and sitting down. At least the hospital staff didn’t make him ask for food. He pretended to rummage through his shopping bag instead, trying not to think about hunger when the smell of fries and burgers surrounded him.

Sander seemed content to just watch their surroundings in silence. His expression remained neutral, but there was that unmistakable twinge of amazement in his eyes. Eventually though, he turned back to Christmas, just looking at his roommate quietly. 

Christmas caught the gaze when he finally looked back up. He blinked at it, but when Sander didn’t turn away he looked back down.

[color 8493ca]”S-sorry…?”[/color]

“[color=cyan]Don’t have to, remember?[/color]” -Sander reminded gently, as patient as ever.

A small nod from Christmas and the boy fell silent, unsure what to do when they were sitting in a fast food restaurant together. Silence or quiet talk had been the norm at the school, but he didn’t know if he could maintain that when a smattering of heat lingered on his back and neck.

[color 8493ca]”Thank you,”[/color] he said instead.

“[color=cyan]Don’t worry about it. Thank you for being here with me today. It has been a while since I last…got out.[/color]” -Sander smiled, gaze began to roam once more.

[color 8493ca]”Any—anytime,”[/color] Christmas replied, hugging his bag of clothes to his chest and hiding his face behind the handles. [color 8493ca]”…Really,”[/color] he finished on a whisper directed mostly to himself.

“[color=cyan]Yeah, I think we should do this again sometimes. Going into town, I mean.[/color]” -Sander seemed to brighten up as he put more thoughts on it.

[color 8493ca]”O-okay.”[/color] He nodded to make sure his agreement was clear. Behind the opaque white handle of the plastic bag, Christmas was trying hard to suppress a smile.

Comfortable silence stretched between them afterward, until Sander noticed his number was called. He quickly got up and walked toward the counter, retrieving the heavy trays of food from a nervous cashier. It required a few trips and there was just a little too much food, but from the way his stomach was rumbling, Sander figured he could take it.
 
As soon as he sat back down, he grabbed a hamburger and began chomping down, but not before nudging one of the heaping trays toward Christmas.

[color 8493ca]”Huh?”[/color] The small boy seemed entirely surprised to be offered food.

“[color=cyan]Lunch.[/color]” -Sander only managed one word, as his mouth was stuffed full.

[color 8493ca]”Um…can—can I?”[/color]

Sander simply nudged at the tray one more time. It was enough permission. Christmas picked up several fries, eating them tentatively and wholly expecting Sander to change his mind. But when nothing happened and Sander simply dug in to more food, he grew bolder, especially when he remembered that he was ravenous. Hunger propelled him to finish off several boxes of fries and the three burgers that were on the tray Sander offered. He couldn’t pinpoint the last time he’d had the peace of mind to eat so much without worrying how it looked to other people and by the time both of them were finished with the meal, Christmas was veering into the sleepy aftermath of hunger fulfillment. Leaning against Sander on the short walk back, he hardly noticed the peering eyes of the crowd around the hospital and only vaguely registered several of the guards stopping the reporters from drawing any closer as they made their way back to the hospital room. 

A nurse poked and prodded him briefly, but sped away the moment cursory checks were done. Tired thoughts wandered back to the horrors of the fight and the tension in the air, but Christmas just held Sander’s hand a bit tighter, head already nodding. 

It was strange and scary to find a moment of peace when turmoil roiled around them and when he had always broken from anxiety and fear all his life, but try as he might to muster any familiar sense of impending doom, the weight of his eyelids refused to be held back. He was sure the sensation was temporary, that this gentle moment wouldn’t last and that whatever minor brain damage had granted him this small respite from the knots that always tightened in his stomach would be gone soon enough—with the morning, with the wind, who could say? But for now he leaned against Sander, both of them seated on the hospital bed, and he managed a small [color 8493ca]”Thank you”[/color] before sleep took him away and the full weight of his upper body rested entirely against Sander’s shoulder.

The taller boy merely wrapped an arm around his roommate, then gently laid him down onto the bed. Afterward, he crawled into the bed next to the blond boy, pulling the blanket over both of them. 

A nap sounded good at the moment.
[/hider]