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"Massster..." this came from a disembodied head floating in front of Raistlin's desk. The archmagus didn't look up immediately, busy scratching writing onto a piece of flattened parchment, the quill in his thin golden fingers practically vibrating with the speed of his notes.

Genessia was a land of fascinating marvels. He'd be sure not to forget a single one.

"Masssster pleasssse," the head tried a second time.

Finally, Raistlin glanced up, impatient at the interruption. "What?"

"Therrrre is an intruderrr in the Grrove."

That. That was interesting, and Raistlin's hand finally stilled. "In the Grove, you say?"

"Yesssss. The defenderrrssss have not been able to kill it..."

Extremely interesting. Something from Genessia, no doubt, nothing else would make sense. The blackrobe dabbed the last of the ink off the feather quill onto a pad and set the instrument aside, and then took the time to carefully close up the inkwell. This could take a while.

And so it was that whatever this stranger was doing, he suddenly wasn't the only living creature in the dark, ancient grove. Raistlin lurked in the deepest shadows, silently watching.

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"I will. I'll do it. I'll call you sugar bear and buy you flowers, don't challenge me."

"Unless I, what? Call you a friend? I imagine that would work wonderfully for you in whatever gambit this is."

No one calls Raistlin friend without it being a plot.

"You found me out. This is all a plot, we've gotten to the root of it and now I have no choice but to tell you my awful scheme.

... I really wanna have a best friend."

"...Really. That is the height of your ambition, here?"

Raistlin don't be such a sour dick.

"My ulterior motives are to get a friend so I can call them to talk about stupid shit, like how a staff with fingers might be totally able to finger walk up the stairs, and show them videos of cats on the internet.

My ultimate goal is to blow some more shit up for the giggles in front of an appreciative audience, truly my duplicity knows no bounds."

"Your goals are too low."

Aim higher.

Really it's a compliment, in Raistlin's own way. Wade's better than this being his big goal aside from a cure or death.

"I don't wanna, I wanna hang out with my fucking friend and play the 'but what if' game. As I said earlier when I unfavorably compared myself to an STD, you're stuck with me now, and I'm going to like you until the heat death of the universe, and you can't lie to me that you don't like me back.

So there. I win."

"Fine." Raistlin's eyes narrowed, "'Friend'."

How did he just turn that into an insult.

"I love you too."

Raistlin said nothing in return, just glaring with his eyes narrowed.

You're a fast learner! The grin is shit-eating, but he doesn't press it further.

"How you feelin', by the way? Any energy coming back?

"A little. I will not truly recover until I rest." Resting in this case meant more than just laying here like a lump, being read a science book.

It meant sleep.

Something he was loathe to do.

He picked up on the rest thing, don't worry.

"Well I can shut up, if you want."

"I have my doubts," was that a joke, was that a joke, was that--

"First of all: I'm glad I managed to unearth your sense of humor from the cold dark grave you keep it in.

Second of all: do you actually need to sleep?"

"...Yes."

The nightmares were going to wreck him, Raistlin could feel it. Every time he'd almost dozed off while Wade was off getting the book, he'd felt them clawing up from behind his eyelids. Brushing up against death could do that to a person, when death was something they feared.

"You needn't feel obligated to stay." A reminder. He'd asked Wade to stick around, but it had been a request, not a demand.

Gods knew this wouldn't be his first rodeo handling his personal demons in the tower, alone.

"I said I'd stay, even if it does mean sitting here and watching you sleep." Well, it was pretty clear there was some hangup about sleep. He couldn't actually follow Raistlin into the land of dreams, but he could definitely hang out in this room and play flappy bird on mute until the other man woke up.

"I mean if you're cool with that, I'm cool with it too."

"Volunteering to guard my sleep, are you?"

"Yeah sure why not? Seems like a pretty solid thing to do, unless you don't want me to."

"I... would not mind. It is something my brother did, sometimes."

During the better years of the twins' lives, when their dynamic hadn't been so terrible.

"See? Solid. Brother solid. I'll camp out here and wait for you to wake up, no problems."

"Very well."

Saving him from certain death and now hanging out so that Raistlin can sleep properly? Definitely a big solid, good job Wade.

Raistlin didn't fight it any longer, letting his strange eyes slip shut. After only about a minute, his breathing leveled out with only the occasional wet nastiness, and the lines of his face eased.

Asleep. No snoring, no moving around. He actually looked his real age, when asleep, and the resemblance to Caramon was a great deal more obvious to those who knew them both.

It wasn't a solid eight hours, of course. But quite a few hours passed before the mage woke again, eyes re-opening. None of the nightmares threatening him had made it to the forefront, thanks to the subconscious knowledge that he wasn't alone in the room.

He... wasn't, right?

Edited 2019-08-08 06:44 (UTC)

Oh he'd still be there. Still awake, of course, still in the same place he'd been when he said he'd stay, no hint that he'd ever even gotten up. Just tooling around on his phone, nice and quiet with the sound fully muted.

A glance up, and he'd catch that the other man's eyes were open.

"G'morning, sugar snap." Yep.

Still fucking here.

"Why are you calling me that?"

Raistlin, why you gotta be pissy instantly after waking up?

"Do you need coffee?" That seems like the more pressing question here. Pissy.