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"Should we go?"
It was Pac who had finally broken the silence that had followed the screaming, wringing his hands back and forth. He and Mike were both sat beside the pool, Pac looking nervously about while Mike pressed close and held his head in his hands.
"They know where we are," Pac shuddered as he spoke, shifting to cling to Mike's arm instead.
Mike, in turn, grabbed the corner of his shirt, "they'll know wherever we go."
"Still..." Pac reached for his communicator, only to remember that it had been stolen from him as he was arrested. "We could go to Forever or Felps? We have their waystones."
"We can't loose them too," Mike took a deep breath, his grip on Pac's shirt tightening a little. "We can just stay in one of these houses for now."
"Up house?"
It was not the most defended, nor the easiest to escape from, but it was the hardest to access, better than the one they had gone to, but still close. Pac could likely not manage further, not after chasing Mike across the venue, and they both knew it. Mike's nod was shaky, and the due helped each other up.
Mike's grip slipped to Pac's hand, and they both clung tight as they stood.
Pac tested his leg, then nervously shook his head; all of the running in the prison, escaping the guards, falling and nearly dying, just trying to get out get out get out get out- the remains of his ruined leg were suffering for it, struggling to take his weight at all. Maybe... Maybe just going back inside and crashing on the sofa would have been wiser.
Mike cursed under his breath as he realised the problem, moving once more to take Pac's weight more fully, "we'll stay here then."
It took longer than either of them wanted to get to the master bedroom; the path was clear and flat, but with the adrenaline gone both were waning in strength. Mike helped Pac up first, before tearing the prison uniform from himself. Pac did not bother - he did not even remove his prosthetic, against all advice - merely allowed himself to fall onto the bed. It took him a few moments to get under the cover, before lifting it and offering it to Mike.
Mike did not question it; he left his shoes and his underwear on, and crawled to his place at Pac's side, reaching for him and being reached for in return.
Neither spoke of what had happened, nor of their new friend now stolen from them. Instead they just clung to one another, too scared to let go, too frightened to sleep, too desperate for each other's company to ever consider letting go.
Even pressed so close that they nearly merged into one being, it was not quite enough. Not with the lingering dread. Not with having watched someone dear be ripped from them. Not... Not when their screams still echoed in each other's ears.
"Pac?" Mike whispered.
"Mike?" He replied.
"... You still there?"
Pac squeezed Mike tighter, "I'm here."
"What if-?"
"I'm here."
"But what if-"
"I'm right here."
Silence reigned for a moment, before Mike burrowed his face into Pac's shoulder, and began to sob.
Pac turned his face into Mike's hair, and began to cry just the same.