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“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to fall asleep in the bath?”
Leona opened his eyes, slowly. The off-white ceiling of the Housewarden bathroom swam into sight above him.
Familiar, for the first time in a while. In contrast to the dark blues and greys of the inner hallways of Styx, maybe most so. The smooth stone, the exposed support beams, even the few cobwebs that were a touch too high up to be cleared during normal tidying of the room.
The hyena beastman that took up a portion of his vision, glaring down at him, that was pretty familiar too.
Leona sighed. “What are you, my mom?”
“Not if you fall asleep and drown I’m not,” Ruggie said, arms crossed. “Got food for you. Get out of the bathtub, before I have to be the one to explain to the royal family that you survived being kidnapped only to die as soon as you get back on campus.”
“Not gonna drown,” Leona said. “Ever heard of privacy, anyway?”
“Says the guy who never locked a door in his life. Food’s gonna get cold.”
“Alright, alright, ‘m comin’.”
Ruggie did leave him alone to actually get out of the tub. Probably was a good thing, because it was almost embarrassing how long it took Leona to ease himself up, squeeze out his hair and towel off. His whole body ached, which was maybe the inevitable consequence of being locked in an underwater facility full of phantoms while yet another Night Raven College housewarden threw a fit.
It was the smell of actual real food that hit him first when he returned to his bedroom in the pants Ruggie had left him. Even before Ruggie could point it out from where he was folding sheets on the other side of the room, Leona had followed his noise over to his desk.
Ruggie had clearly been going for speed rather than anything complicated to cook but, considering he’d loaded the stirfry with meat as Leona requested, Leona couldn’t find fault in it. Leona sat heavy in his desk chair, mostly trying to avoid the grief Ruggie would give him if he tried to eat it in bed, and started shoveling food into his mouth.
Ruggie’d always been a decent enough cook, but honestly anything would’ve probably tasted pretty damn good at that particular moment. Leona only paused long enough to give a noise of acknowledgement when Ruggie said, “Better eat at least some of those veggies. And thank Jack in the morning. He helped chop things,” before continuing to inhale the meal.
Wasn’t long before he heard rustling, behind him. Didn’t bother to turn around. “What’re you doin’ now?”
It was answered soon enough by Ruggie depositing the first-aid kit given to all Housewardens on the desk next to his plate. “You know you’re covered in cuts, right?”
“So?”
“Who do you think is gonna be responsible for cleanin’ your sheets if they get stained? I just changed those, y’know.”
“They’ll scab over.” Probably already had, until the bath had opened things up again.
“Before or after you bleed all over your bed?”
Ruggie wasn’t going to let it go. Leona grumbled, muttered, “Whatever,” and allowed Ruggie to grab his free hand, start in on where he’d been clipped by a stray bit of ice with a disinfectant wipe.
He knew it was coming, even before Ruggie asked, “What even happened?”
“Did some tests. Fought some things.” Leona shrugged. “Radish Sprout threw a tantrum, but he’s cooled his head now, so it’s whatever.”
“Lotta fightin’?”
At Leona’s noise of acknowledgement, Ruggie fished the small bottle of anti-inflamatories out of the first-aid kit, deposited it next to the plate that was already mostly empty. Leona waited until Ruggie’d finished with the scrape and plastered an adhesive bandage to it before unscrewing the cap and taking a dose. “Things here?” he asked.
Ruggie’d moved up to work on where an outcropping rock had scraped across Leona’s shoulder, out of Leona’s line of sight, but he could feel Ruggie’s arms shift in what might’ve been a shrug. “The guys, they were pretty riled up. Spent half the time convincin’ them it wasn’t gonna end well if they went chargin’ after you with no idea where you even ended up.”
“Morons. ‘n here I was sayin’ they could take care of themselves.”
“Half of ‘em are more muscle than brains. You got a lotta nerve, y’know, saddlin’ me with the whole dorm. No warnin' or nothin’.”
“Sure, ‘cause I can give you warnin’ before being abducted.”
“Just gettin’ a little sick of bustin’ my tail for you, boss.”
It was faint, but Ruggie’s hands were shaking as they smoothed the adhesive bandage down on Leona’s shoulder. Leona sighed. “Yeah, well, I’m back, so it ain’t your problem anymore. You done? Can I sleep now?”
“You take a look at how much of your skin’s still bleedin’ and tell me if I’m done.”
“Ruggie.”
“Whatever. Lie down. I’ll work around you.”
Leona heaved himself onto the bed, scooted far enough over that Ruggie could follow, sit crosslegged next to Leona. Leaned back and closed his eyes, but not before he caught enough of a glimpse of Ruggie’s face for it to swim through his brain. Pale. Half-lidded eyes. “When’s the last time you slept, anyway?”
Ruggie didn’t answer. Just the crinkle of another packet being opened, followed by the sting of the antiseptic wipe across the knuckles of his dominant hand.
Leona kept his eyes shut. “Headmage says classes are still cancelled for the next few days. Don’t wake me up early.”
“Sure, boss,” came Ruggie’s dutiful reply.
The problem with magic exhaustion wasn’t necessarily the fatigue, or the hunger, or even the blot as long as it didn’t get to overblot levels. The problem was the soreness.
Leona found himself blinking awake in the dead of night, muscles screaming at him. He’d changed his mind. He was going to kill the stupid little radish sprout.
It took a minute for him to convince his body to roll over. When he did, it was only as far as the other side of the bed, where he was close enough to reach his desk.
Everything aside from the empty plate was still on it. It took only a second or two of feeling around to find the anti-inflamatories, though the bottle felt annoyingly light. Problem with having a dorm full of idiots that were constantly pulling muscles or overtraining.
Still, enough for a few more doses. Leona shook a few pills out of the bottle, swallowed them with the nearby glass of water his hand had bumped into. Finally, he scrabbled for his phone, left on the desk to charge, and sent a quick message to Ruggie, telling him to pick up more in the morning.
As soon as he did, something buzzed in the corner of his room.
Leona picked his head up, pricked his ears. He’d missed it, initially, too focused on the aching pain across his body, but it was pretty obvious now. There was a steady pattern of inhales and exhales in the rhythm of sleep coming from the chaise near the far wall. No unfamiliar smell to the room, so it was easy enough to guess who the dark shape huddled on the lounge was.
Ugh. Well, he had to piss anyway, and as much as it sucked, moving around would probably help the stiffness.
He ignored the hyena sleeping on the chaise for the time being, stumbled back out to the bathroom and took care of business without even turning on the light. Even then, as he washed his hands, in the mirror he could see Ruggie had done as promised and continued to slap an inordinate amount of adhesive bandages on him. Must’ve been for the most minor shit, just by sheer number. Ruggie’d been serious about not staining his sheets.
Leona didn’t think he’d been particularly loud when getting out of bed and opening the bathroom door, but they were both beastmen with the associated hearing. Predictably, before he’d even fully stepped back into the bedroom, he could see ears pricked at him over the chaise’s armrest, just the barest sliver of eyes watching, silently.
“Really?” he asked Ruggie, and watched the ears droop back down, Ruggie’s head slowly dipping back out of sight.
Poor attempt at hiding, honestly. Leona snagged a spare blanket from the pile Ruggie had been folding earlier, crossed the room to where he could better see the idiot curled up on his furniture.
And it was a curl, knees tucked up almost to Ruggie’s chest. Leona tossed the blanked at him, watched as Ruggie’s hands sluggishly grasped at it like it was some foreign object. Might’ve been a snap if Leona wasn’t so damn tired when he said, “You know your meal ticket isn’t gonna disappear just ‘cause you sleep in your own room, right?”
“Wasn’ worried,” Ruggie muttered, speech heavy and slurred with sleep. He blinked once, twice, felt around at his pockets like he was looking for something. “Wh’ time is it?”
“Too fuckin’ early,” Leona said as Ruggie finally found his phone, pulled it out and squinted at it. “Put that away and go back to sleep, dumbass.”
Ruggie wasn’t listening to him. Was, instead, peering at some notifications, swiping them off the screen one by one. Leona huffed a breath, took the few steps back to the bed and eased back down onto it, trying to ignore the rippled pain through his abused muscles.
Almost missed it when Ruggie said, “People keep askin’ me ‘bout you.”
Took a second to roll through that thought, to ask, “Oh? And what kinda shit are you tellin’ ‘em back?”
“Tellin’ ‘em that of course you’re back. ‘n you’re still Leona.”
“What’s that even mean?”
From what Leona could see in the blue glow of the screen, Ruggie shrugged his shoulders. “Y’know. Leona still.”
Leona’d already had a pretty good guess on the amount of sleep Ruggie got over the time he was gone, but the circles this conversation was walking was enough to confirm it. “If that screen keeps me up I’m sandin’ the phone, Ruggie.”
“Puttin’ it away, Housewarden sir,” Ruggie said, and the screen blinked off.
Leona heaved a deep breath, feeling the jabs of ache as his chest expanded, contracted. Closed his eyes. Let the sounds of the savanna night creep back in through the gap to the balcony.
It was quiet, mumbled, when Ruggie said, “Glad you’re back, boss.”
Leona snorted. “Shut it, ‘fore I boot you back to your room.”
He barely heard the laugh he got in return. Sleep was already dragging him back down into its all-encompassing hold.