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Dylan's heart hammered as he eased the door open. The hallway was quiet except for the rhythmic snores from the chair outside. Roberts sat slumped, chin tucked to his chest, a half-empty coffee cup tilted in his hand.
Dylan grinned and slipped through the gap on bare feet, careful not to let the door click shut. The corridor stretched toward the doors that led to Central Executive - and beyond them, the cafeteria. It had been months since anyone had risked sneaking him anything.
Dylan missed ice cream.
Three steps. Four. Dylan was about to slip around the corner when the snoring behind him cut off with a wet, startled grunt.
"...hey!"
Dylan froze. The familiar voice scraped down his spine like sandpaper.
He turned as Roberts rose from the chair, crossing the distance in three long strides, close enough that Dylan had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes. The smile on the man's face didn't reach them.
"Kid." Roberts' voice was almost conversational, a sharp contrast from the anger in his eyes. "You know that it's dangerous to go alone, here." He took another step, crowding Dylan toward the wall. "The Oldest House isn't safe for you. We wouldn't want there to be an... accident. What would Darling think?"
Dylan crossed his arms tight over his chest. "I was just... going to go visit the cafeteria."
Roberts' gaze flicked toward the Central Executive doors, then back. "You know you aren't allowed past those doors. Now. Back to bed - and stay there."
Dylan shifted his weight. His pulse thudded in his ears.
"...no."
Roberts went very still.
"No?"
Dylan said nothing. He kept his arms crossed and his chin lifted, even as something cold uncoiled in his stomach.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Roberts said, his voice dropping into something uglier. "Go back. Now."
Dylan didn't move.
The silence stretched for half a heartbeat.
Then Roberts' hand shot out and locked around Dylan's upper arm. The grip was brutal - fingers digging deep enough to bruise on contact. Dylan cried out as he was yanked forward, nearly thrown off his feet. Roberts dragged him bodily across the hall, Dylan stumbling in a futile attempt to dig his heels in.
The door to his room slammed open under Roberts' free hand, and with a single shove, Roberts flung him inside.
Dylan hit the thin carpet hard. His teeth clacked together; the impact rattled up through his skull as his head bounced once against the floor. Stars burst behind his eyes as he scrambled onto his elbows, breath coming in short gasps, arm already throbbing.
Roberts stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light.
"Sleep well," he snarled. "I'm sure Darling will want to discuss this episode tomorrow."
The door shut with a heavy, final click, the lock engaging as Dylan stayed on the floor, the phantom press of fingers still burning into his arm.
He closed his eyes and tried to remember the taste of ice cream.