If there had ever been a day in Sebastian Castellano's life where he had considered events normal, it had not been since his return from his adventures at Beacon Mental Hospital. Certainly, they had never included a three-bedroom apartment situated in the center of Krimson City, filled with characters straight out of his personal nightmares. The whirlwind of events that had led him, Joseph, Leslie, Kidman, and the slithering apparition of his hellish nemesis, Ruvik, to reside in the same space still made his head spin. But here he was, waking up in his room with--
Someone laying on top of him?
The detective blinked a few times to clear his vision and focused in on the head of white-blond hair resting against his chest. One arm was slung over his ribs and a lanky leg was nudged precariously between his own. One sudden jerk of a knee would make this a very bad morning. But for some reason, out of all of them, Leslie never seemed to have nightmares; he slept like a damn rock. And in Sebastian's room more often than not, although he had his own. No one ever questioned it, though-- they all understood the desire to feel protected after what they had been through, and for Leslie, Sebastian had always been that icon of fortitude and strength.
Still, that knee made him nervous.
He tried, at first, to roll the boy off of him, pivoting on his side to try and slide him off, but as sound asleep as Leslie was, his grip was strong. His fingers curled into Sebastian's shirt, as if letting go would equate to being shaken away into another world. Falling back into position, Sebastian let out a tired grunt and settled for reaching a hand down to move Leslie's knee to a slightly safer position. His head hit the pillow with a soft poof and his eyes slid toward the clock by his bed. The glowing red numbers read 5:26. No wonder Leslie was knocked out. He still should have been asleep. He couldn't remember what had woken him, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with--
"Ruvik!" The shout was sudden, angry, and not directed entirely at nothing. The flickering image that stayed with him even after the disaster at the hospital was over was suddenly there, hovering over his bed.
There had never been an explanation as to why Ruvik manifested into a ghostly figure and continued to haunt their group, but Sebastian knew it had something to do with Leslie. As if on instinct, his arm half-curled around the sleeping boy.
"...Breakfast." It was a single, low sound that made even the blessed event of morning food seem sinister and uncertain.
Sebastian responded with an open hand swinging toward the apparition. Ruvik's image swayed like mist with the lazy blow and immediately dissipated entirely--
--just as the bedroom door opened to a much friendlier face.
"Seb, wake up! It's time for breakfast." Warm brown eyes scanned the scene as Joseph leaned in through the doorway. He didn't bother asking questions about Leslie's placement in the room, and instead just fixed his partner with a disproving stare. "Are you going to sleep all day?"
"What are you--?" Confused, tired eyes trailed back to the alarm clock. 9:26. He hadn't read wrong before-- and had the distinct feeling someone was fucking with him. He instantly dumped Leslie off and jumped out from under his covers. "I'm gonna destroy that bastard," he grumbled as he stalked past the apartment's resident chef.
Left with a suddenly-wakened, startled mental patient, Joseph only let out a weary sigh. He waited for the confused noises from Leslie to subside and the other man to extract himself from the bed and follow his lead out into the kitchen.
The apartment wasn't huge, and when tensions were high-- which was often, with Ruvik constantly hounding both Leslie and Sebastian-- it seemed even smaller. However, when food was on the table, everyone tended to settle a little. As far as Joseph was concerned, he would keep the table constantly filled, if he could.
"Wait your turn!" A scathing look was sent toward a reaching hand, and Kidman's fork came down to whack Sebastian's knuckles as he tried to snatch a piece of bacon out from under her.
"Never know if you're gonna eat it all. Pig," Sebastian muttered under his breath. He clearly hadn't meant for her to hear the comment, but she caught him in that cold look of hers nonetheless. God, he hated that look.
"It's not like you need any more food." And with that, she moved on to the stove, where the eggs and potatoes still sat hot in their pans.
"You are getting fat," a voice suddenly whispered in the detective's ear. Sebastian jolted only slightly as Ruvik's ghost appeared behind him, smiling. At least, he was fairly certain it was supposed to be a smile-- it looked more like a malicious grimace to him.
"And you're getting on my nerves. Don't you have to feed your spider or something?" Sebastian's nose curled vaguely at the notion.
"You leave her out of this!" If wisps of smoke could promote emotion, the air left behind as Ruvik vanished would have seemed surly. Whether he was going to sulk somewhere in a corner or actually take care of the pet he had saved from nearly being destroyed beneath Sebastian's boot on the second day of his arrival-- Sebastian really didn't give a crap.
Not when there were potatoes to be handled.
"Leave her, leave her..." The quiet, never pointless ramblings of Leslie came as a murmured undertone while he shuffled into the kitchen directly behind Joseph. "Leave her."
"Yeah, yeah," Sebastian muttered, as if the words meant something to him-- after following Leslie through hell and high water, they did on some level that even Sebastian himself couldn't really explain. As the patient sat himself at the table, he crossed the small room and set the plate he had building up in front of him. "No eggs, right?"
"No eggs," Leslie agreed-- although no one in the room (save Sebastian's interpretation of his understanding of the mutterings) really knew if he was agreeing or just repeating. "No eggs."
One, large hand came up to ruffle the pale locks with casual affection before the detective went to fix his own plate.
Tucked away in Leslie's room, where he spent most of his time, Ruvik crouched in a corner where a large spider's web clung to the walls. The arachnid itself was settled in the center, seemingly content with its company. It-- she, as Ruvik insisted-- watched as the ghostly figure worked away at his task. A smile, a real one, curled across his scarred lips as another piece of food crumbled beneath his fingers
Out in the kitchen, Sebastian could be heard actively accusing Kidman of stealing the last piece of bacon.
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