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Characters: Death the Kid and Liz Thompson
Location: Gallows Mansion
Rating: ...uh....G...?
Time: May 10, late evening
Description: He's baaaaaaaaaaack. Or rather, he has been back, just intermittently. But the last trip was likely his last for a while and he was in much need of R&R.

Kid could not remember the last time he stepped inside his house let alone his own bed. A few days? Weeks? Months?

In secret he had been going out to different cities, bases, countries to see how things were going. Some were more harrowing than others, and the recent in-city uprising. He almost cancelled his last two trips, but political pressure and possible rising threats elsewhere pushed him out. The last trip had been an overall success (except for the fact that at one point he failed to resonate with Spirit and had to almost cut it early), but now he had to deal with the matters back home.

"Liz...Patti...I'm back," he called out and surprised himself by how...tired he sounded. It was also disconcerting when the hallway started to swim before his eyes and he had to grab the edge of a nearby table.

He had been fine just a few hours before. So why was he— He just quickly shook his head. No, no time to be failing now. There were reports he needed to read, mission logs to look over, files to sort through.

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"Welcome back," Liz greeted. "Patti's asleep upstairs."

Liz hadn't been able to sleep much herself. She'd been doing what she could, running interference for her Meister so no one realized that he wasn't actually in Death City. At the same time, she'd been trying to keep tabs on how things were running.

However, things were starting to look pretty grim. The level of malcontent actions against Shibusen were getting worse. She hadn't anticipated things like non-combatant guests getting harassed.

She'd been up late trying to read through one of the reports to try and get a handle on what was going on, but the words had been started to blur together when Kid arrived.

She walked to where he was, stopping about two feet away. "Which is where you should be from the looks of it."

She didn't have a head for the reports or the politics or all that, but she'd been a mother of sorts to her sister. Right now her sisterly/motherly instincts were telling her to put the reaper to bed.

Her instincts were right. He needed it. But his mind was protesting against his body's fatigue. Just a little more. Just one more hour. He could rest easier knowing he had done at least something—

Kid raised a hand and shook his head as he straightened and walked forward.

"I will in a bit. I just want to catch up on a few things."

"Catch up tomorrow," she stressed. "Right now, you need to get some sleep."

He was clearly having problems standing, not looking at all steady on his feet. She stepped in front of him to bar his path in case he thought to walk to the study or something.

His eyes narrowed as he moved to brush past her.

"I'm fine—"

And it was at that moment that the room once again began to swirl before him. He stumbled once before he felt his legs give way and his body lurched forward.

No. Apparently he wasn't fine.

She'd expected as much, and she moved forward to catch him, holding him carefully against her.

"What'd I tell you?" She sighed and said with no real malice behind it, "You're such a pain sometimes. When's the last time you ate?"

Last time he ate?

"I don't remember," he managed to mumble out as he closed his eyes to try and recompose himself.

After taking a few breaths he once again tried to stand upright, but slowly.

"Okay. Food then bed. And no work, you hear me?" she scolded. She kept her grip on him as he tried to straighten up. "Do you need me to carry you?"

Because she'd carried his unconscious body on her back before, after all.

When he was younger, he would have said yes. Now he was older and chuck it up to his growing boyish pride that he just shook his head.

"No, I can manage."

By now he had reconciled that Liz was right. He could not work in his current state, as much as he wanted to, and he was only be a bother like this.

That was certainly a step forward from what she'd expected but she wasn't going to say it out loud. Instead, she nodded and moved to walk in-step with him, prepared to catch him should he stumble again.

Immediately, her mind took mental inventory of their fridge. She and Patti had been careful to keep things neat and organized--her more so than her sister--for whenever Kid came back. They also made sure that there would always be one extra portion of whatever they made or bought for dinner waiting for him to reheat should he come back without notifying them first. His share of dinner would need to be reheated, but at least he wouldn't have to wait while she whipped up something from scratch.

When they reached the living room, he made his way to the couch and slumped down in it. That was when he truly felt everything that had been holding him up vanish.

"I'll just wait here if you don't mind."

Oh, yes, it was definitely bad when he didn't mind eating on the couch.

However, she nodded her head. "I'll go get a tray for it. Water okay or do you want something else?"

She started to walk towards the kitchen.

"Water's fine," he answered as he leaned back and rested his foreharm against his eyes. Hm. He felt warmer than usual, and considering what he was, that was odd. But that was likely just his imagination.

Liz left the living room to go retrieve the meal. It had been deli sandwiches tonight, and she'd picked up Kid's usual order. She was very glad she had. It'd take even less time for him to get into his food. He looked like he desperately needed it.

Some days she wondered what would happen when she and Patti passed on. Things like would his future Weapons have any idea of the nuances of being partners with Kid? Tonight, it seemed, was going to be one of those nights.

She returned with the tray, food and water resting on it.

"I know you're tired, Kid, but you need to eat something," she told him.

God help his future weapons and everyone else who would have to deal with him. Here is hoping that by then he'll at least have matured more.

But that was the future. This was the present, and while Liz had been preparing his dinner Kid had been left to his own thoughts. A mental checklist of what he needed to do. No, they were not things he should be thinking, but it actually helped him. A bit of security to at least have some plan for the morrow.

When he heard Liz approach, he lifted his hand and straightened back up. Minute by minute he felt that need for sleep beckon, but he resisted. He gave his thanks as he took the tray and took a bite.

And ate it a lot faster than he anticipated. All right, he was hungrier than he thought.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around lately," he said after another.

"It's fine, Kid. You had things you had to do. Just wish we could've gone with you," she said honestly. "I know why you had us stay behind, but it still stunk."

Because she was almost certain that his temporary Weapons had been about ready to rip their hair out.

Out of habit, she placed her palm to her forehead and her other palm to his, comparing the temperature. Belatedly, she remembered that it was next to impossible for him to be sick. Oh, well. It wouldn't hurt.

"Honestly, I'd rather have you both as well," he admitted. "Although it's good for me and Spirit to continue working on our resonance, it's easier with you two." And there was a slight cringe as he recalled when his condition prevented them from resonating.

At her actions, however, he blinked and looked at her questioningly.

"Sorry. Old habit from whenever Patti started looking run down." She gave a small smirk. "Not surprisingly, you're not running a fever though you still look pretty pale for you."

He just gave her a dry look.

"Of course not. I'm a god—it's impossible for me to catch a fever or even be sick."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Sheesh. Sorry that I did a completely unnecessary check because I forgot for five seconds."

Because she was worried about you. Dumb boy.

He only looked at her for a few seconds longer before turning his attention back to the half finished sandwich.

"This does help, though. So thank you."

She smiled at that. "Good."

Yes, she'd seen him recover from being wailed on by things like a giant mallet made of bandages but that didn't mean that she was okay with it. There were some days where she was scared that the next injury he took on he wouldn't be able to heal.

And after a few more bites and draining his glass, he slowly stood, carefully balancing the tray in his hands.

"You've already done more than enough—I can take care of things from here."

Although it was just a sandwich, he had not been lying. He could feel more of his strength returning and while he was not at full recovery, things did not feel as if they were going to move around anymore. However he did come to realize that he was going to need to rest.

"Uh uh. I'll take care of the dishes. You go to bed now."

She stood up and crossed her arms, blocking his way to the kitchen.

"Liz, I can at least do this much."

She probably was speaking the truth, but he was going to be stubborn about this.

Well, it was fortunate for you that she was just as stubborn.

Tonight, she would not be moved.

"Bed." She pointed sternly towards the stairs for emphasis.

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If he's sick, she's going to fuuuuuss.

Noo he's not. But he'll seem like that at first anyway. Just usual stress/exhaustion symptoms.

She's still going to fuss.

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