My Mind's Eye

With a soft click, the handle to the door of their room turned in place, and the door was slowly pushed open. Five's head poked in around the corner as they surveyed the room, checking to see whether Abel was there and what she was doing, to know how quiet they'd need to be as to not disturb her. Upon seeing her reading her book, they let out a held breath, pushed the door the rest of the way open, and stepped in—their own book in hand.

"Ah, hello." They paused, pushing the door back into place behind them. "I'm back. Going to bed, now."

Abel sat at the desk nearby the room's window, poring over the words inside his book and studying each and every part until he felt they would be burned into his mind. Though this memorization would have been needed soon regardless, it was a welcome distraction from the other things on his mind. He did not want to think about those things right now. About... Abel turned her head at the sound of Five's steps, hardly realizing they'd opened the door before.

"Oh, Five. I was wondering where you'd went. Welcome back." Her gaze returned to the book as Five closed the door behind them, though her attention was drawn back yet again. Almost surprised, she asked, "Sleeping early? Or... is it late, now—?" Abel looked out the window, leaning back a little at the sight of dark night sky. "...I suppose I lost track of the time."

Five's eyes followed his gaze out the window.

"...I dunno. The caves messed with my sense of it, too." They sighed, and began walking over to their bedside. "Whatever, though. I just need the rest." With that, they pulled the sheets over and lifted themself into the bed. They brought the covers back up to their chest, settling their arms over them—and once they'd gotten settled, lifted their book of poetry up and open. As much as they'd like to drift off to sleep now, leave behind their troubles for a quiet mind—their fur still stood on end, their fingers still shook lightly as they turned the pages. Piercing red eyes were the only thing they could see when they tried to close their own. Perhaps molding the racing thoughts in their head into words on a page would help them find some peace. Finally, they turned the page past this morning's sketch—

Oh, They drew a sharp breath. Of course. They should have expected it. They closed the book and slid it onto the bedside table, heart beating faster than before. "On second thought... maybe I should go out for a walk. Again," they added. They pushed themself back out from underneath the bedsheets and onto their feet.

Abel nodded slowly and left them to it, picking up the feather from his inkwell and jotting in a short note. He could feel himself beginning to tire, but unlike Five, sleep wasn't exactly the first thing he wanted right now. He would need to soon, but... he still did not want to. For possibly as long as he could hold off on it. For possibly as long as he could go without the burden of exhaustion sinking itself into him.

She sighed and turned the page. The memorization here in particular was going to be difficult, but worth it in the end. If she could just... get it down... then all would be done... Abel looked up once more at the sound of Five's voice and the patter of their feet making contact with the floor again. She turned her head over her shoulder to look at them fully, a lightly concerned expression across her screen.

"Well, alright then. But maybe I should come with you..." Abel offered, though it was a bit less of a suggestion than it was a statement. "If it truly is late, it just gets more... risky into the night. I couldn't let you go alone in good conscience. Please?" He then added quietly, "I can't exactly sleep either, honestly. And trying to dedicate so much focus to the book right now is admittedly getting difficult..."

"Uh..." Five glanced over at Abel, seeming a bit uncomfortable at first. "...I guess, sure." They turned and spoke with their face to the wall, then, as they took their cloak from its place on the hanger. As they wrapped it over their back, the image of red eyes and white fur flashed back into their mind. "You've got a point." Safety was a reasonable concern. Maybe his company would help distract them, anyway. They adjusted the position of their guild badge after their cloak had settled in place, then drew the door open and looked back at Abel patiently as they lingered in its frame.

A smile entered Abel's eyes then, and he nodded. She pushed back the chair and stood, emitting an electric yawn and stretching her arms upward, clicks producing from a few metal joints.

"Ye. Gotta cover each other, especially after such an exhausting mission... what a thing to be thrown into right off the bat." He walked over to join Five and followed after them, walking down the hallway and into the main quarters of the house. Another glance was spared to the leftover pastries on the table, before she forced her gaze away and continued. The chilly air outside blew against his feathers. "I mean... I was expecting a lot joining the Order, but that was... a lot. Just for starting out." She yawned again. "Urgh."

Five stared down at the ground as he walked. His black furred paws tapped softly against the cobbled path—chill to the touch, grounding him in reality. It was a tad uncomfortable, but he was glad for it. "...Yeah, no kidding." He turned to Abel to see the end of her yawn.

Is she... awake enough for this? They recalled the nights they'd spent together so far—they weren't sure if they'd truly seen her sleep before, actually. Maybe warforged don't need to.

"I really... had no idea, something like this..." they trailed off, reflecting for a moment. Project Rebirth, the Plague Rats, the Red Board... Was it really so hard to believe, though? "I don't know, maybe that's stupid to say. I should know better than to be surprised."

Abel hummed contemplatively, before shaking her head and turning her head down toward him.

"No, I don't blame you... I don't think any of us had any idea we were going to get into something like this. I wouldn't have expected it either..." she murmured. So much had been thrown at them all, and in what was really just a few days? I'm surprised none of us have dropped out or... dead, from shock or overwhelm. They've all been so brave so far... He wasn't sure if he could say that entirely for himself yet, though he certainly was trying his best to act the part. But, Gati... and that... that damn goat...

Suddenly Abel winced slightly, before trying to recover just as quickly. Hopefully quickly enough to avoid Five's perception. She blinked a few times before deciding to continue distractedly, "...let's just hope the Order doesn't force us in over our heads, I guess."

Five continued on their path as they listened, this time with their gaze turned on the trees to their side. Habitually, they scanned through the leaves and twigs in search of any feathered inhabitants. They weren't often out this late, and they wondered whether they might see anything new. Abel's pause brought their attention back to him, though—only in time to make eye contact with him as he spoke again. He seemed shaken.

"Gods, this is only the beginning..." they muttered, then turned back to face the road ahead and wrapped their paws around their shoulders—the pressure was minorly comforting. They didn't want to think of what may be to come, but the spiral only grew deeper. Softer than their last statement, with their back still turned to Abel, they added, "I don't think I'm cut out for the Order."

Abel nodded slowly, frowning. It really was just the beginning. How long exactly had it even been, again? Her perception of time had felt warped since... since the cave-in, she felt like a lot had just blended together down there. Perhaps that was one of the worst possible times for the warding stand-by to kick into his systems. He felt... awful for acting so empty when the others needed him. When Five needed her. He sighed heavily, plumes of smoke leaking from the vents under his headbases and dissipating among the dark sky.

They all still need me. Abel's focus returned to Five upon their soft voice. His antennae lowered even more from the straight-back position they'd been in for several days now. You still need me. I promise I'm trying.

"I think... you've been very brave and strong so far," Abel spoke slowly, deeply making an effort to place and configure and articulate his words correctly. If he could do that, that'd be one of the better things he'd done lately. It was hard to put speech together sometimes but I really have to try.

"Which is... very admirable. And I mean it," she tried to assert, her headwings twitching hopefully— and nervously. She could only hope he took the things she had to say to heart. "This has all been monumentally challenging. But we all got through it- you got through it... I think... I think we're going to be okay. It will be challenging still, but we... we can make it through these things okay, can't we?"

Am I even sure of that myself? Again, his wings flitted restlessly. He almost looked away, but he had to maintain this if he was supposed to look coherent and certain right now. "Besides... I... think this is something that the Order wants us to do. For exposing all of this." On anxious instinct she folded her hands together and rubbed her scarred palm with her other hand's thumb. "I don't think this is something any of us can... back out of now. But... but we'll— we'll be fine. I swear on it."

Brave and strong... Surely she didn't think that. Her words of encouragement were unexpected, and certainly appreciated, but Five couldn't imagine they held any meaningful truth. White lies of comfort were only to be expected in exchanges like these. With one paw, he massaged the back of his neck, filtering long black fur through his fingers. That lamia, Gati... She'd only said about them what everyone was already thinking. You're just a coward; too afraid to do what's right, too afraid to do what has to be done. I'm a coward, either way. Everyone else can see it. They tried to listen, but their thoughts were like horrible ringing in their ears. '...monumentally challenging', yet it didn't need to be. '...we can make it through these things', but how many won't, in our wake? She turned back to Abel near the end of his spiel.

"Eugh," she let out with a shaky breath, "I know. But I don't belong here." She gesticulated with one arm frustratedly, nearly hitting Abel's side out of inattention. "I can't bring myself to do these things, Abel. Look where my inaction has gotten us thus far." They thought back to the cave-in. If only they were not so spineless, Fe wouldn't have lost her memories, Taketros wouldn't have been hurt, Abel wouldn't have suffered... In fact, it was only thanks to him they hadn't been caught in the blast as well. No matter what I choose here, I can't avoid hurting people. "It's not like I have any choice, though." They stared into the worried eyes on her screen with a worn expression.

Abel tilted his head slightly to the side, then back, sighing again.

"If I can be honest with you... I feel that same way. I mean, look at me. I'm a fish out of water anywhere I go," he laughed weakly, barely much more than a quivering breath, really. "And all this... I don't know. I don't really know what I'm trying to say. Just, that I understand how you feel, I suppose. You don't have to feel alone... neither of us do."

Abel cast her gaze up toward the stars, squinting, then looked down again. She blinked slowly and her eyes couldn't find a place to stay. She really wanted to try so hard to help, but what could she do? She had never been good at comforting people. She could never even comfort herself. She knew that was part of the reason why she was here... to selfishly seek that from other people. She reminded herself that she was still here for other reasons, though. Other, far more important reasons.

"You... I know. I know what you mean." He wasn't sure that he knew what else to say to them. Why did he think he was capable of helping? He still wanted to try. "It... some of the things that are painfully necessary sometimes, they, uh... they don't—" Abel was cut off by another wince, rapidly expelling another plume of steam and shaking his head. Not now, this is hardly a good time. She tried to continue again, "Feel... right. I really don't... like it either. But—" She ducked her head, yawning for the third incessant time, and groaned slightly. "God, sorry, I'm not. I'm not usually this tired and incoherent."

Five recoiled. 'Painfully necessary...' Urrgh. What is that supposed to mean? They had the sinking feeling he was right, though, and they hated it. There really was no use in trying to avoid their fate. Every fur on their hide—every cell in their body—screamed in discomfort for it, though. They could only look back at Abel with an expression of disgust. After a moment, though, they shook it off.

"Don't worry about it." They watched as he trod on slowly, groggily... They felt concerned for his wellbeing—Ah. Then dread, rushing back all at once. Their voice grew cold as they stopped in their tracks. "Um, we should head back. You look like you need to rest." They avoided his gaze. The grass, the path, the trees, the stars—no, not the stars—anything else was better.

Abel faltered slightly at the disgusted expression that he then quickly hid and shook off. Had she said something wrong? She was really just trying to help... that was the whole point of this, to help him come and ease his mind without the worry of getting hurt... She let out a slow, remainingly nervous breath.

"Mm- right. Apologies." Voice quiet, almost a whimper.

He kept on walking. His feet were barely picking up off the ground, shambling, his eyes kept dragging themselves to the stars. Find anchors. Ground. 'Don't worry about it.' He couldn't help worrying. Couldn't help them, couldn't help himself. This had to be fine. This was to be expected. What was he ever good at helping with?

Then she stopped. Abel hadn't realized that Five had stopped walking before her, and turned at his mention of her state. Rest. "I— uh. I mean... I don't..." He wasn't looking at her. Anywhere but her... it wasn't that he needed to, but it still added another gnawing anxiety. Perhaps she really had done something wrong. She was scared to know— This is stupid. It's not like they hate you suddenly. Why are you so selfish for this?

His wings pressed closer to his face. One more stressed, smoky exhalation. "I don't want to have to stop what you wanted to do just because I..." He shuddered. It was hard to deny they were right. "I'm sorry... do I really look that bad...?" Voice even quieter, apprehensive and breathless. The lack of true rest really was catching up to him. He just wished it wasn't happening now, when he was supposed to be here for them.

"No, I— I mean... We've been through a lot; you just said that. You should get some rest now that we can." They idly fidgeted with their paws as they spoke, but now that Abel was in front of them, it was harder to avert their gaze. They kept glancing back at her, but her expression— "And I'm done with the walk. You don't need to keep apologizing. I just want to go to sleep, now." —It was too hard to bear. They couldn't stand to face her any longer, so they turned on their heels and started back towards the house. This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have let him come. I shouldn't have ran.

"...You're right. Yeah. Okay." He blinked a few times as Five's gaze continuously flitted toward and away from him, her indecisiveness infinitely telling. Right. I've done enough tonight. I don't need to mess this up any more than I already have. Abel nodded. "Yeah... we should. Let's— mm, yeah, I'll be right behind you," he murmured as they already turned and began to walk away. His feet scraped against the ground and his head practically lolled from one side to the other as he trailed them.

An abrupt ringing noise in the midst of her head made her wince, a pulsing blue box appearing shortly after at the corner of her vision. LOW ENERGY : SLEEP REQUIRED FOR FURTHER FUNCTION. That's... yeah, I know... Abel could not panic in front of Five but she did have to return quickly. She could make it there. I can make it.

Why did I push it? What an idiot I am, truly. I can't help anybody else and I can hardly help myself.

Never once did Abel overtake Five on the walk back, simply trailing behind them despite newfound urgency to get back to the house. There were a few spare moments where he felt he might've had an opportunity to reach out and say something more casual, maybe ease the tension, or maybe sabotage it more— it was probably a bad idea. He remained silent.

Abel practically stumbled through the door once Five opened and walked through it first. She held herself against the wall while Five went right away to their room. Another very slow exhale. The food on the table was as untouchable to her as ever. She wasn't sure why she stared at it despite the fact. She tore her gaze away and groaned in pain, full pain this time, trudging down the hall and into the room after him.

Just as sloppily did she wrestle her cloak and pauldrons off, adjusting the amethyst amulet around her neck and slipping into the bed. It was still so foreign to her. Abel curled her arms around her stomach and kept them tight as if it would be comforting at all, bringing her legs in closer too and facing the wall. I don't want to sleep. All she did was stare at the wall for a while, somehow complacent with the pain of keeping herself awake. She had to. I don't want to.