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"Wendy."
Laplace approached them down one of the halls of Clayman's castle, the only source of light the sharp white moonlight from the large windows.
Wendy sighed heavily, turning their gaze from the moon to their fellow harlequin.
"You already know, don't you?" Laplace tilted his head, assessing Wendy's carefully neutral expression. Despite their efforts, he could see the exhaustion that had collected in and around their eyes. "That something's not right with him."
"Yeah." Wendy put a hand to their forehead, carding fingers through their hair with yet another heavy sigh. "He hasn't been right for a while now. I don't-" They gripped at their hair harshly. "I don't know what to do."
"I shoulda known that if he wouldn't listen to you, it was a little hopeless for me to try." Laplace let out a short, wry laugh.
"Not as much as you might think." Wendy murmured. Laplace fell quiet, all traces of humor gone at Wendy's serious words.
"What do you mean by that?"
"We've...there's...he's not the same as he was, Laplace. After- after centuries, something has changed in a way that I can't understand." Wendy's careful mask began to crumble, face tensed to try and hold back tears. "I can't reach him anymore. Even when he's next to me, he feels miles away." They put a hand over their face, taking deep, shaky breaths. "Something isn't right ."
Laplace's footsteps echoed loudly in the hall as Wendy began to sob. He stopped next to them, facing away, one hand on their shoulder.
As they quieted, Laplace spoke again, still pointedly looking away to give them privacy in this vulnerable moment.
"If you say it, there's no doubt that it's true." He murmured. "What should we do?"
"I don't know." Wendy shook their head, voice barely a whisper. "I don't know. I only know what I can do." Their voice grew stronger, despite a faint wobble.
"And what is that?" Laplace asked, glancing sympathetically at them.
They smiled sadly back at him, reaching across their body to put one hand on top of his, squeezing gently before letting their hand fall back to their side. Laplace followed suit, putting his hand back onto his hip as he watched them thoughtfully.
"I can support him, and work to ensure his safety and success, as I always have." Wendy stood up straight, their words spoke with a force of will that would not be denied. "That," they began to walk down the hall, away from Laplace, "is all that I can do."
Laplace turned away, closing his eyes, listening to the sounds of their footsteps until they faded out of his perception.