reflectedlight | 🌙 Inbox - Marc Spector's Dead Drop

It doesn't take Kylar that long to catch up. Two floors from the deck isn't a long jaunt. He'll be at the infirmary door looking around for Steven in less than five minutes.

Steven is happily seated with a mug of tea when Kylar arrives, looking calm but embarrassed.

"Oh! Hello there. Really, mate, I'm so sorry about the trouble, I'm an absolute blockhead for forgetting to lock the door like that. Could have ended up anywhere, could have walked ...clean off the deck."

Imagine! Gosh.

He should say something reassuring like 'no problem' but instead he asks: "So you sleep walk a lot?"

Kylar might seem a bit distant, but his brain's just busy. He's over by a shelf trying to find what he needs. Steven got a nod for a greeting and some relief that the man followed instructions to come here. He could have taken the waypoint and then used the spare time to fuck off. And yet, he didn't.

He's very polite!

There's a hell of a lot of complex stuff under the hood with Steven to make it look like theres absolutely nothing going on under the hood worth mentioning. Marc's function is to grimly take a punch and not flinch. Steven's function is to makes it so nobody punches you in the first place.

How many people here would bother to hurt him? How many people would actively defend him as a helpless civilian if someone tried to hurt him? He's a nice little nest cuckoo. Only notice me if you plan to like me, please.

Case in point: there's a Dancer in his lap, shaped like a kitty. Awww.

Steven grimaces - sheepish. "Yeah. Here and at home. It was going well, I think, and then I got a bit scolded for taking my panic attack medications wrong by Dr. Varker. Really thick of me, glad he was here to help, but, well-

Taking them normally always makes it worse. The sleepwalking. Really, mate, it's so kind of you to come and find me, I can't thank you enough. Were you - sorry if I've got your voice wrong - were you Verso's temporary last month?"

"Kylar, yeah. We spoke briefly after it happened."

He finds what he needs and pulls it down from the shelf. Squints at bottles and their descriptions, directions, dosages. He disagrees with something, that much is evident in his expression, pockets two bottles and goes looking in a cabinet next.

"Panic attack medication, what's in it? How were you taking it wrong?" He's a bit demanding, but maybe just because he's focused, maybe not because he's still displeased by the situation he's found himself in. The medications probably won't conflict with what he can offer now but better to know for another time. Just in case.

"I think they'll be cross if you walk out with those," Steven warns. "It's a - well, you won't know what a benzo is, but it's a sedative? More than that and you might need to ask a chemist. The, er, I could call a staff member in, if you like."

Steven, honey, he IS a staff member.

"Do you want to sit with me a bit once you've got this squared? I could do us both some tea. Seems to me like you're taking on a lot."

Huge, sincere bunny rabbit eyes.

He glances back. "Oh. No need. I'm one of the on-call wardens for this place." So he agreed to come down here with him and didn't even think he worked the infirmary? Steven, we gotta talk about your trust issues. As in, too trusting.

He grabs what he's looking for two cabinets later, it's a mortar and pestle. The two bottles are back onto a table. He takes a few pills from both and starts crushing them. He only glances over at Steven when he makes his request. Don't worry, no eye contact, but he still sees the bunny eyes in his peripheral. "I don't really do tea." He can. He's trained to put up with the stuffiest of nobles and their tea time and their gossip. But here, he can decline. Imagine, free will.

"But if you need someone to sit with you, that's different." He can tolerate that and he sort of feels like he has to because eventually he needs to talk to Marc without blatantly telling Steve 'hey, fuck off for a bit, need to talk to that other guy'.

"Oh, I'll be fine now. Next time I'll just be sure to keep that door locked."

A slow blink.

"How long have you been here without a pair?"

"Yeah." Is all he has to say to that. Good luck with that lock, buddy.

"Few months. You?" He isn't bothering to count. As soon as he starts counting he gets antsy and no one wants that.

"Just a headache, right? Anything else?"

Something's bothering him, hmm. It doesn't have to do with Steven, but Kylar still can't get it out of his head. That's a shame, but Steven doesn't want to pry or anything, best just let him busy around and be appreciative.

"Since January," About a month before Kylar and Marc met. Marc was careful not to show up too soon. "But I know we've got a lot of Wardens right now, so I'm just taking my time here to meet everybody so I know how to work together with them once things get ... odd again. Did not enjoy all the children running around with sharp objects, I'll tell you that much. If I start going grey, everyone'll know why now, because I had to pull a child whose skin makes you see nightmares out of a bloody top-loader washing machine. Maybe he's got the same thing your odd baby did.

I'm alright. Promise. You did a good job keeping me from danger, didn't so much as stub a toe."

Encouraging smile.

(Again, makes no sense that he's fine, he's been poisoned, but That's Moon Knight, I Guess.)

"... You mean Bob? Uh.. no. That's not the same thing at all."

He's wondering if requesting that suit was a good idea. Maybe he can ask for some modifications to it. If the request is even acceptable. It might not be as a temp.

It doesn't take much longer before he's dividing the crushed, mixed powder into sections and then gently setting each stack into a small bag. Somewhere there's a brown paper bag that he puts all the smaller bags in. Then he walks over and offers it to Steven.

"Heavier painkiller and should help with some of that panic, just take it when you need to, one bag." Is there a sedative in it? Absolutely. He doesn't mention this. As far as Kylar knows, his knockout poison was useless, so he's not expecting much with the sedative. But who knows? Better to try. "Oh, and as tempting as it is, don't take it with water, it'll give you the runs."

"Yeah! Bob but smaller."

Cheery. Steven indicates a height. Small small. Like six.

"Well, I am curious about what was going on with the baby, now. Not as if I really understand how Bob's ability works, either, only that it seems awfully difficult to live with."

Steven peers into the bag.

"Wait - oh! You are a chemist. That's fascinating. How do you... take it if not with water?"

Big, innocent blinks. I am such a normal, harmless man.

He grimaces a little with the mention of the kid. Maybe he shouldn't have brought up the twins at all. "I don't know enough about it to really say." Is all he really has to say to that. It is the truth.

"Put the powder on your tongue and swallow. Just use your saliva. It'll be a bit bitter though, but even kids can handle it, you'll be fine."

Serious nod. Okay. Do not snort it like cocaine. Got it.

(Steven has only ever seen cocaine in movies.)

"I've had worse than a bit of bitterness, not to worry. This is very sweet of you. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah... fine."

"Are you?" He thinks he should be looking for something but the issue is that he has no idea what he should be looking for. "In case you forgot, I'm not the one who—" How is he supposed to describe it? Just keep it to sleepwalking? "who's been struggling to sleep." Lies. But not the point.

There it is.

"I did something, didn't I?"

He closes his eyes, balls his fists up on his knees while he's still seated. Tries to keep his breathing calm.

"Do I even want to know?"

"What? No, you didn't do anything." How can he even explain the concerns in his head without blowing Marc's cover? How the hell is there even a cover to begin with?

There's a temptation to just glance up. Just look Steven in the eyes for two seconds. It's not out of malice, it's out of a need to understand what he's dealing with because he grasps none of this. But it also feels wrong and it feels.. risky. He doesn't need to get demoted over this.

"Never mind I said anything. If you say you're okay, then I'll take your word for it." And remain completely and utterly suspicious of the whole thing.

Steven is very suspicious and very afraid of what shit his body gets up to while it is sleepwalking.

Like, it's not like he's not aware of it? He just. Doesn't think about it. He's pretty good at not thinking about it.

He smushes on a grim kind of smile and takes Kylar's word for it, because that's just... easier. It's easier.

"I'm okay. Promise. Should I take this now, or later on?"

"Now. And then any time this seems to happen again. No more than once a day." He might've made it a bit potent. "If you take anything else beforehand, let me know so I can figure out if you can still take it or not."

His hands get shoved into his pocket again. What to do, what to do. He feels inclined to keep an eye on him. He's just been a bit spooked with temps for no particular reason. There's an exhale through his nose. May as damn well.

"You mentioned tea.."

So much for that free will.

"You don't have to, mate, I promise."

The smile's gone weary. Steven squints at the bag, tries to figure out how to dose it.

"Yeah, I know I don't have to. You taking back your earlier offer?"

He watches him squint at it, deciding to fill in the blanks.

"One smaller bag, that's all you need."

"You taking back that you don't really do tea?"

Gentle teasing.

"Look, what do you like. Coffee? Can do coffee."

Steven opens a smaller bag, pours it onto his tongue like a pixie stix.

????

He shrugs. He is aware he walked into that one and it's his own fault. "Maybe I am. But sure, coffee."

Kylar watches Steven take the medicine. It probably tastes awful but at least he's not doing it wrong. "Uhhh... you gotta swallow it, you know." There's a rotating gesture with one hand like 'go on..'.

Steven does, makes a face at the taste, then quickly wipes his mouth on the back of his hand self-consciously. Ick.

"Well, I know that. Come on, then, I think counseling will let me borrow their machines a moment. Ought to help get the taste out of my mouth, at least."

Steven can't imagine Will and Malcolm minding a borrowed use of the coffee maker.

A gesture toward the door with an: "after you."

It's probably only a few steps later before he asks, "how do you know the office? You working there?" Sure, Marc doesn't or couldn't have a job around here but maybe Steven does? Is that how this works?

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