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"Someone's been taking the Totino' pizza rolls I've been leaving outside Sybil's door for her. Morton, I say this with all the love in my heart -"
Morton's shining eyes roll from under his cape, the only visible part of him. "I did not take those. Useless. Useless garbage."
Ironic. Oh well. Onto suspect two…
"Leigh. I feed you very well, don't I?"
"Hehehe! You're wondering about the Totinos, aren't you? No! I'm very happy with the ramen spaghetti," she cackles. "Maybe it was Joel! He likes to eat, it helps with his teeth!"
Sam doesn't even bother asking Joel. Of course the angel child didn't eat them. Ratmo, on the other hand…He gets gently sat down on the couch and Sam crouches next to him. "Hey. We've got to have a very serious talk."
Ratmo nods, jaws clicking together uncomfortably. "Okayyyy," he rasps.
"You know Sibyl next door, right?"
"Okayyy," he nods again. "Sybil!"
"Yes! Good job," he says patting Ratmo in the head. "I made her some food the other day and set it by her door. Did you eat it?"
"No!" He squeaks, rat tail swishing like he's offended. Then Ratmo stands up on the couch and hunches over, appearing wider than he is.
"Uh…" Sam thinks for a moment. "Lyle?"
"No! Big!" Ratmo puts his hands over his head and lets his eyes peek through. He nods slowly and then switches to shaking his head.
"Oh! That thing." Sam sighs. "I don't think I can stop that. It's hungry all the time. Kinda like you, Ratmo." Ratmo looks offended, and crosses his arms across his chest in a way that looks strikingly like Sam himself when he's telling someone not to do something. Sam holds up his hands in a sort of surrender motion. "I didn't mean anything by it. It's not a bad thing to be compared to. It's…nice. It gives us presents sometimes."
Scary, fleshy presents. And it had tried to consume Sam one time. But…other than that it was fine. "Okay, so that…ate the pizza rolls I left outside next door?"
"Yesss!" Ratmo nods eagerly and mimes eating the pizza rolls. "Play now?"
"For a little bit," he concedes, really unable to tell Ratmo no when it comes to playing like a normal…kid, sort of. Plus, whenever he plays with Joel he ruins something of Joel's. They were just lucky that Morton was handy with floss and a sewing needle, after the Fuzzy Incident. They go and play with Sam's practically ancient and definitely vintage Star Trek figurines he'd dug out of the closet two days ago, but he can't quite stop thinking about Sybil the whole time.
Was it even the right thing to try? She had mentioned missing real food, and smelling his cooking through the walls, but despite the weird circumstances, he didn't really know her. Was it an overstep? Was it for the best that the Shadow-Thing ate it? Was he overthinking it?
Probably. He's changed a lot, in the last week. But one thing that will probably never change about Sam, is that he's a professional - no. Make that chronic - overthinker. Doesn't matter what about. Jobs, hobbies, the eye-woman-neighbor in the wall that's his only semi-normal human connection.
It takes a surprising amount of courage to make his way to the bedroom. "Sybil? Can we talk?" Sam sits on his bed.
"Sure." Does she just sit there all the time? The answer is almost immediate. He doesn't want to unpack that right now. Or for the foreseeable future. "What's up, Sam?"
"I've been leaving food for you outside your door. Uhm. I thought maybe you were getting it, but I have recently been informed that something has been taking it…I'm really sorry. I thought I was being thoughtful, I probably should have asked you first instead. I mean, you mentioned it offhandedly, but I don't even know if you can eat."
"I can," she responds, softly but firmly, blinking through the hole in the wall. "I mean, I think I get hungry less than I used to, but I still eat. If I ate three meals a day, there's no way I would still have food. But - what I really mean to say is that I appreciate the thought a lot, Sam. Maybe when this is all over we could…uh. Have dinner together. Assuming that still exists as a concept."
He nods. "Uhm. Yeah. That sounds really good. I mean, I'll have to find someone who can watch Ratmo and Joel - And we'll uhm. Have to find a restaurant to accommodate you if you're like. Room shaped or something."
Her head bobs, eye moving in and out of view. "Yes. Yes, that's - that is something I'm worried about, actually. I haven't exactly looked in a mirror for a while. And - and all the lights are off in here. I - well. I'm probably horrific. I know that much. But I don't want you to think I'm horrific."
"Sybil…obviously, I can't promise anything. But I've seen a lot of crazy shit in the last two weeks. I really doubt you'd be any scarier than, say…Joel's baby sister. Or Lyle. Or - well. I'm getting ahead of myself, I think. But what I mean is…this is the new normal, right? This isn't going to just go away when whatever it is out there leaves. And that's okay, I think. I mean, I know I'm selfish for saying it, but overall, this has been a major growing and learning experience for me. So. Yeha. Dinner."
"Dinner," she repeats softly, sounding almost happy. "Thanks, Sam. I'd really like that."
They just look at each other quietly for a moment. Sam knows he's smiling, but by the way her eye crinkles at the corners, he thinks that she is, too. The moment is brought to an abrupt end when he hears some shrieking from down the hall. "Do not touch my treasures you little, ehhh, rat-thing! I Will have your tail mounted to a stick to keep if you-"
"You'd better go."
"I will. But I'll come back later, okay? And before I go up to the roof tomorrow."
"I'd like that very much. Sam? I'm glad I met you, despite the circumstances."
"Me too."