It was the same table as last time, and Sunday night again. It was strategic, enough visibility for them to see anyone approaching, and enough room to sit side by side on the long bench like seat which ran along the wall. It was easier to hear, and allowed them both to keep their eyes on the goings on in the big pub at the end of Diagon Alley.

Johann disliked having his back to the world if he could avoid it, and given their general subject matter he didn't want anyone sneaking up behind him to clap a hand on his shoulder and invite themselves to join them. If Arcturus had sat which his back to the pub, keeping Johann's attention and wandering eyes would also be a problem, he tended to be distracted, even more when discussing himself. He found himself oddly captivated by Arcturus, but since he wasn't a most intriguing document to decode, he was still at risk of being distracted from staring at the man.

Insisting on buying drinks again, Johann stood the other side of the table and put them down before arranging his change thoughtfully into his pockets, expression reading that he was preoccupied with other thoughts as he slipped his coat off. His attire was never very scruffy (he left that to his hair which still hadn't seen scissors) though only because he lived in shirts and trousers. Tonight there was no jacket, but a grey jumper instead, and after throwing his coat down on the bench seat, the rest of Johann landed beside the other man with a sigh, before pulling their drinks across to within reaching distance.

"Sorry, bit of a queue tonight, someone was ordering a round for what felt like an army." He explained freely, and an eruption of grating female laughter broke out from somewhere in the direction of the bar, "Given the cackling, might have been an army of hags... urgh..."

He leaned back and rubbed his face with both hands before dropping them into his lap and smiling at Arcuturus in a friendly manner, fully present to their meeting at last in mind and body.

"I'm still alive, just, had to pull a couple of all-nighters mid week to fulfil a client's deadline, but very much worth the money." Johann tilted his head, remembering Arcturus and his reasons for being a healer, "Not that money much matters to you, I realise, but its rather useful to have, and I would be a fool to turn such a job down." A shrug of his angular shoulders, "And the pay-off was that I slept the next night..."

Arcuturus was doing that whole Healer mind-reading thing on him again, that caused Johann to helpfully fill in the gaps by confessing his sins. Since it was all off the record, he felt less worried about it, though in a fit of sleep-deprived paranoia he'd briefly wondered if Hollingbury was working for Vedir...
 
"Alright, with a bit of help. But I still slept nine hours that night. What's new with you, anyhow?" He lifted his red wine to his lips and shuffled so he wasn't sat shoulder to shoulder (with a respectful distance between them), but turned his shoulders and knees towards the healer, and curled his feet round beneath the bench. It closed the gap, in terms of his knees which were now a two or more inches from the other man's.

"Had any luck with the move?"

When Johann came back with the drinks, Arcturus was supporting his chin with one hand and gazing unseeingly into the crowd. It was a refreshing break from sitting at home with a kneazle curled up next to him while he read in the armchair nearest to the fire - not that he didn't like it, but he had a feeling that there was more to life than just reading on his off-days. Even if it involved talking to Johann, whom he considered his patient even outside of the hospital.

He glanced up at the man when Johann dropped his coat on the bench. Something about the way he divested himself of his coat indicated that the man was preoccupied. Arcturus knew preoccupation well; it was his friend at all hours. Right now, seeing Johann sort out his seating made him pull his own faded jacket closer to him in a sort of paranoid manner, even though it was already bunched up close to him to begin with.

The female laughter in the background didn't bother Arcturus much. He'd learned to get used to loud noises in the hospital; unless they concerned him he very quickly found out that if he got distracted with odd sounds he wouldn't get any work done. Even so, from the sound of it their conversation would be well lost before any potential eavesdropper gleaned details from their meeting. A blessing in disguise, maybe.

"I'm still alive, just, had to pull a couple of all-nighters mid week to fulfil a client's deadline, but very much worth the money. Not that money much matters to you, I realise, but it's rather useful to have, and I would be a fool to turn such a job down. And the pay-off was that I slept the next night..."

"Oh, I don't work just for money, Johann," Arcturus paused briefly to take a sip from the glass of mead, "but I do pay the bills and buy my own groceries. It's a misconception that my parents support me when I just happen to be sharing the house with them. I don't suppose, though, that you fell asleep completely unaided?" Since he wasn't at work, he found being direct a lot easier.

"Alright, with a bit of help. But I still slept nine hours that night. What's new with you, anyhow? Had any luck with the move?"

Arcturus refrained from smirking. It wasn't polite. "No, I haven't moved yet, let alone found a place." He set the glass down on the table as Johann arranged himself. "I wasn't planning on moving until yesterday passed[1]. Now I'll just look forward to dealing with landlords and the occasional potential housemate while I do the usual work."

It was odd, how Johann turned himself to partially face him. Arcturus was discovering how badly he took to confrontation, even if it was physical and not wholly negative. It was the one reason why he had decided to not sit facing Johann, and over time he had slowly realised that he really preferred talking to visitors and patients when they weren't standing directly in front of him. Well, there was something important there.

Right now, while he had turned his head to look at Johann, his body remained facing straight ahead. Arcturus had a sneaking suspicion that it gave off a "lone drinker" atmosphere, but he really didn't feel comfortable otherwise. He didn't know what Johann's opinion on it really was, but he wasn't going to ask.

"It's been a long week for me. Graveyard shift the whole time." He stretched from his slumped posture over the table and felt a few subtle cracks as his spine shifted. "At least, until yesterday. Maybe you should try my job, you'd probably fall asleep quicker than a well-fed baby after six hours of watching other people sleep." He chuckled. "And while I don't live off sleeping draught, I do make awakening and wit-sharpening potions my one saviour when it comes to doing graveyard."

1.	Because it was his birthday.

"… I wasn't planning on moving until yesterday passed…"

Johann sipped his wine and narrowed his eyes at that comment. Yesterday was Saturday, it wasn't the end of the month yet, so this perhaps wasn't a case of finances, rent or wages. The significance of yesterday was perhaps more personal. Never did too well to read into Hollingbury quickly, Johann reminded himself, and it only made the whole relationship a little awkward.

"Heh, sorry, has she been pestering you again?" Johann asked of his old school friend. "Not sure what I can do to stop that." He took another sip, and blinked slowly before reaching out to place the glass back on the table.

Arcturus was continuing to face the table, which didn't bother Johann too much. He was treating this very much as a healer and patient conversation, even with the alcohol and surroundings. Johann by nature was always more talkative and inquisitive, open to conversing with others, complete strangers. As such, his body language was rather more relaxed about the situation.

He was very much content to hear the man speak, and not to tell him off for things, but actually speak, and even as he realised suddenly, chuckle.

"Be a healer?" Johann asked, "Or just sit a nightshift? Yes, I could see that time of day getting boring, well, I do see it, which is why I work through it, while its quiet." His fingers trailed down the stem of the wine glass as he thought about it.

"My mother thought I should be a healer when I was a teenager, reckoned I would enjoy the challenge of learning everything. I'd have been awful at it," He confessed, "its bad enough I snuck into an apothecary without having the whole damned hospital at my disposal, and I'd be the one experimenting on patients to research than actually treating them."

The Ministry worker grinned, gazing out into the pub, pausing a moment before looking back intently at Arcturus.

"But I'd take you up on the challenge of a graveyard shift one day to see if you're right about that."

He took a more generous sip of the wine, eyes closing again as he enjoyed the taste. His mind had landed on a distinct possibility…

"Birthday?" He asked softly once the glass had dropped from his lips, his blue eyes had opened and were fixed on the other man.

"Heh, sorry, has she been pestering you again? Not sure what I can do to stop that."

Arcturus waved a hand to show he wasn't bothered. "It's all right, I think I can handle her. If I've handled the throng of patients and their kin with their demands and pleads, surely I can trouble myself to deal with a colleague."

He smiled lopsidedly at the apothecary statement. "Just sit for the graveyard, that's all. I wouldn't trust you to cut cheese with a wand, that's for certain." Arcturus absently scribbled squiggles into the condensation forming on his glass of mead with a finger. "And yes, we certainly don't have much reserve for experimenting on patients. Treating, yes. Research, not so much. We potioneers tend to just experiment on ourselves if we need research, though I haven't been doing it because I'd rather be well enough to see to patients."

Johann's agreement to the challenge made Arcturus smile as he took a drink from his glass. It wasn't often he got to drink mead; he savoured the flavour. It was the only alcoholic drink he could actually like. Maybe dry white wine could pass, but he had such a ridiculous sweet tooth that it had to be edging into juice territory before--

"Birthday?"

Arcturus nearly sprayed his mead across the table, but stopped himself in time. The mead was too good to waste. He swallowed the amount that hadn't escaped his lips. Thankfully the amount that had escaped had merely landed on the table, not in his lap.

He put the glass down with a thunk and turned his head to stare at Johann. So...either he lied about it, or told the truth. Or changed the subject, but nearly spraying mead was something that didn't exactly go unnoticed. That, and he still had to cough a bit to dislodge the mead in his breathing passages.

But Johann had been honest with him. What did he gain from lying? What would he lose from telling the truth? It was just his birthday - a day out of three hundred and sixty-five that was no different from the rest except that it was simply the day he was born.

"...yes," he said, after the entire thought process passed through his head, a bit slower than usual because of the haze that had just permeated his head for drinking that much mead in one go. He moved the glass out of his sight. "And what made you come to that conclusion, may I ask? Intuition? Because I don't get a lot of people guessing about my birthday, believe me. It's not something I tell people all the time, and certainly not something I ask friends to come and celebrate with me."

"…surely I can trouble myself to deal with a colleague."

"Mm." Johann agreed with a nod, but his lips defied his agreement that it would be straightforward. From what he'd observed, his reacquainted friend could be rather tenacious. Whether this was just that she wanted to find a home quickly with a suitably minded colleague, Johann suspected not, but he hadn't ever witnessed the long game of courting from Mordent before. Or if he had, he'd not been interested.

When Arcturus appeared to choke, Johann put down his wine in alarm and reached out somewhat instinctively to pat the man firmly between the shoulders, but his hand didn't land, but hovered, and then retreated back, looking a little awkward.

"Your birthday?" Johann clarified, pleased his guess there had been correct. "Hadn't meant for you to inhale your drink, you alright?" This time the hand nearest Arcturus did land ever so gently - just the fingertips - on the nearest shoulder for a second or two in concern.

Johann's own eyes shifted from Arcturus' face to his own hand and then removed it, as if suddenly aware of what he'd done. His subconscious was working on a different agenda to his rational head it seemed, and he was ever so slightly aware of that odd feeling of being warm, a little like he had felt when meeting Vedir all those months ago.

"It was your mention of waiting for yesterday to pass." Johann admitted, "And a bit of a lucky guess if I'm honest. You see, its too early for your monthly wage, so it was a date of significance. Either to you or your parents, or both. A fixed date, so something that occurs annually." He shrugged, and picked up his wine, fingers once again caressing the stem of the glass.
"Possibly because its my birthday also in the next few days, I went for that."

He toasted Arcturus with his glass, although the healer had put aside his own.
"A happy belated birthday to you. You should drop by here Thursday, join me to celebrate, let us celebrate yours properly too." His mouth quirked. "If Elixa hasn't already invited you, or if she hasn't scared you away by then."

Johann sipped his wine and closed his eyes momentarily again, feeling a little fatigued, trying to clear his head of thoughts irrelevant to his present company. He had elected to commit to this arrangement if Arcturus proved he could solve things satisfactorily.

"If not for her, then do it for me." He asked, "Wouldn't do for me to leave out my newest 'friend' would it, after I meet you two Sundays in a row and buy you drinks." He chuckled to himself and looked out at their fellow drinkers.
"Anyone would think I was attempting to woo you if we weren't discussing sanity, potions and addiction." He grinned boyishly, turning his head back, "But we're not, are we?"

His gaze lingered for a little longer than it might normally.

Arcturus appreciated the concern, although thankfully he hadn't drunk his mead the wrong way. Well, most of it. It had taken a minute or two to get his voice back.

"It was your mention of waiting for yesterday to pass. And a bit of a lucky guess if I'm honest. You see, it's too early for your monthly wage, so it was a date of significance. Either to you or your parents, or both. A fixed date, so something that occurs annually."

Ah. Good powers of deduction. At least he was thinking straight tonight. Arcturus had a couple of nasty flashbacks to the week in November; while they only lasted a few seconds, a few seconds were all he needed.

"A happy belated birthday to you. You should drop by here Thursday, join me to celebrate, let us celebrate yours properly too. If Elixa hasn't already invited you, or if she hasn't scared you away by then. If not for her, then do it for me. Wouldn't do for me to leave out my newest 'friend' would it, after I meet you two Sundays in a row and buy you drinks."

Arcturus stayed silent.

"Anyone would think I was attempting to woo you if we weren't discussing sanity, potions and addiction. But we're not, are we?"

After something of a very long pause, the healer finally spoke. "I'm...sorry, but I'm not a party person. I know you feel somewhat indebted, but really I'm not just doing this for you." He wasn't looking at Johann, and therefore missed whatever looks the other man was giving him. "Parties just aren't my thing. Birthdays, Christmas...I don't celebrate them with other people. In the end it's just another day on the calendar."

He focused on his glass of mead, which was half-empty by now. The alcoholic haze was still drifting about his head, which would probably explain why he was being a little more talkative than usual. But anything to not look at Johann. "It's a little cold to think of them that way, but I'm someone who has to make decisions with his head, not his heart. Maybe another glass of mead, but," and here his tone had a slight edge to it, "I have work tomorrow and unfortunately I happen to be a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. I'm really sorry. For not going to your birthday, and for being cold about it."

He turned his head away from Johann. "I didn't ask you to come here to discuss your addiction, I just asked you to come because I figured that you'd need someone to talk to. Someone who won't judge you. Someone who won't tell you off. It doesn't have to be your problems. When it feels like the people you know don't care about you and the world has turned its back on you, all you ever want is someone to listen to."

He looked at Johann. His urge to continue looking away in dread of what he would see on the man's face meant he didn't actually focus on much of the expression. "It's better than having to resort to methods to ease the pain, and that serve as subtle, but destructive, pleas for help in making the world a place you can understand during the darkest hour in your head. I could be wrong about your perspective of it, I'm only guessing," he turned his head away sharply, "but that's how I see it."

In the silence, Arcturus blinked and took a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm, aware that he was trembling slightly. He was also a little too aware of the fact that he'd probably said too much. There wasn't a way to take back the words he'd said. He was only thankful he'd managed to stop before his voice broke.

Well done. He'd managed to dredge up things he didn't want to be reminded of. To be fair it was inevitable; the moment he'd came up with this arrangement there was no turning back. He focused on stopping the trembling, hoping that Johann wouldn't notice.

The atmosphere had taken a dive with that suggestion, which Johann had meant out of politeness and enthusiasm for actually celebrating his birthday properly that year. Last year his close family had taken him for dinner, but it had been a quiet affair with his situation a little unsettled.

He nodded politely to Hollingbury's explanation that parties were not his thing. He remembered new year's eve, introducing him to the group, feeling awkward for running into each other more because of taking sleeping potion again, but remembering a little reticence from the younger man too. Then again, Johann had sandwiched him next to Ignan, who was damned intimidating.

"… Maybe another glass of mead…"

"Of course." Johann uttered quietly, eyes unmoving, but he lightly toasted his wine to the other man in acknowledgement. He'd buy Hollingbury more than a couple of glasses of mead. He didn't even have to ask.

"Its quite alright," Johann replied with a kind smile, "I thought it'd be rude not to offer, as I'd brought it up."

He let Arcturus go on, his smile diminishing as the explanation came out, expression changing to a little surprise, alarm, and then his gaze lowering out of a little depression of it all.

"I … see…" Johann spoke slowly, staring down somewhere towards the other man's lap by chance. He put down his wine and scratched at his head, staring out at the pub quietly a moment, thinking. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at Hollingbury's hands.

"I wouldn't mind you telling me off," He admitted, blushing, shooting a brief, nervous grin at the healer, "Probably do me good, I'd respect it from you - you've seen it all first hand. But, yes, I get that its almost certainly something subconsciously I enjoy defying."

He laced his fingers and placed them on his knee, legs crossing one over the other.
"I talk a lot, its part of my job, but there's plenty I don't discuss, you're right. Hannah just gives me the look that I'm not quite right in the head, though I tell her she's probably more qualified to confirm if I am, and I just make things awkward between Colin and I, what with living in his flat, if I were to tell him things."

But he had a feeling Hollingbury wasn't solely referring to his patient given the photograph. He turned his gaze away slightly, regarding the other man out of the corner of his eye. Was he trembling? There was Johann thinking Ignan was scary, and he wasn't even dressed as Godfather Death from the party the other day…!

Softening his features, but not doing much to help the potential fear he'd interpreted the trembles as, by leaning back against the wall, and towards Hollingbury, lowering his voice, eyes alight, Johann answered,

"The darkest hour is usually a couple of days in without sleep, when the delusion begins when I'm alone. When the voices get rowdy. I wake up to find all sorts of odd things." He was seeking eye contact at this short distance, perhaps the closest other than the night of the hallucinations, that he'd been to the man,

"When's yours, about this time on a Sunday night?" His mouth curled at one side, admiring Hollingbury's eyes.

He reached out, laid a hand on the other man's forearm without thinking - later he'd scowl at himself, lying in bed and consider how touchy he'd got of late with people, and try and work out why he felt the need.

"You alright, or did that mead do something when it went down the wrong way?"

Arcturus listened to him, not that he had options. But Johann's voice was, in the least, calming and it gave him an excuse to distract himself from the boiling pent-up sea that was every emotion he had spent over the years hiding away. He didn't quite want to look at the other man.

"The darkest hour is usually a couple of days in without sleep, when the delusion begins when I'm alone. When the voices get rowdy. I wake up to find all sorts of odd things."

At this, he felt the slight warmth in the immediate vicinity and turned his head. His eyes met Johann's. For a moment he struggled with himself, trying to decide if he should look away, but then some self-decency kicked in and he held the gaze.

"When's yours, about this time on a Sunday night?"

The healer dropped his gaze, but did not turn his head away. It was a good question, a question that he had to think about. Most of the time he usually drove himself to forget his own conflicts; it did not do well for him to linger on such negativity. He had discovered it tended to be contagious, and the last thing a healer needed to spread around was depression.

He was jolted by the sudden warmth on his forearm. As he blinked, he realised he'd been losing himself in his thoughts. Much to his surprise, although not an unpleasant one, it was Johann's hand.

"You alright, or did that mead do something when it went down the wrong way?"

Arcturus looked back up at Johann. Then he smiled, briefly, reluctantly, tiredly. "No, I...the mead isn't to blame. Let's just say I'm not always all right, regardless of how well I smile." He was still aware of Johann's hand on his forearm; the simple gesture was keeping him grounded.

"No, at this time on a Sunday night I would usually be reading with my kneazle." This was true. "But it's usually always a Sunday morning. You know, spending twelve years of my life going to someone's grave every Sunday morning at eight in the morning in every month regardless of whether I had a night shift on Saturday. If that's the case I usually end up with two hours of sleep, but...it's a Sunday." He shrugged. "I can replace the sleep later.

"There's no definite time for me. It'll come on whenever it wants, it'll go whenever it wants. At least Joy will let me take the day off in that case, but she knows I'll make up for it by doing an extra shift." Arcturus pondered for a minute. "Or by finishing the paperwork, but that's not much of a problem. I always keep abreast of it, even if I'm dealing with your folder."

Talking was definitely helping him calm down. He wasn't shaking anymore, that was for certain. The warmth on his arm helped, but mostly it was because he had been expecting some sort of scathing or dismissive remark in response to what he said.

Johann's expression remained someone confused rather than amending to concerned or thoughtful over Arcturus mentioning he wasn't always alright despite his smile.

His hand lifted gently, having had a response, and listened without averting his gaze to the other man. Visiting a grave every Sunday morning without fail sounded like a foreign commitment to Johann.

"Let's try not to add too much more to that." Johann muttered and shook his head, sipping his wine, finishing the glass.

"Twelve years of Sundays is a commitment beyond my comprehension, I admire it. Let me get you that other mead, sounds like you need it." He smiled and patted the healer's arm, slipping out from beside him without a chance to protest.

The tall, lanky wizard headed to the bar, having left his coat behind with his drinking companion. The laughter of the women had been ignored from where they were but was back when he was closer to them.

Despite the other man assuring him over a week ago that this arrangement was to save him from visiting the hospital, he couldn't help but wonder if getting out of the hospital was actually rather good for Arcturus too. He had implied that his job was his equivalent of sleeping potion.

Twelve years to a grave though? Johann barely remembered to visit every couple of years to family relatives. He was too caught up in mulling that over to receive his change timely, and as he scooped up two glasses of mead (he'd figured he'd try it, though it wasn't his usual tipple) he was still thinking about it until he drew close to the table and brightened his features.

"Why so early in the morning?" He asked, sitting back down. "I get the returning to a graveside to tend it, but why that time?" Johann asked, picking up the conversation as if there hadn't been an interruption to retrieve more alcohol.

Without realising, he'd sat ever so slightly closer on returning.
"Sorry, were you expecting me to ask who is laid there?" He asked with a hint of a smile, "I can take a guess given what you showed me the other day in your office, but say if I'm wrong. I'd be rather chuffed if someone visited me that often when I'd gone. My flatmate, Colin, has asked me to ensure my brain's in one piece when I go, so he can study it…"

He glanced to Arcturus properly again, and raised the mead in a toast.
"Sorry go on."

Arcturus wasn't sure why he told Johann his little Sunday arrangement. It had just come out. Later on he'd realise that he was beginning to trust the man more on a personal level than a healer-patient relationship, but for now he let it be. Even now his work mindset took over and prioritised what was important at the moment.

"Twelve years of Sundays is a commitment beyond my comprehension, I admire it. Let me get you that other mead, sounds like you need it." Arcturus opened his mouth, raising a hand to stop him, but Johann had gone, leaving him with his hand still half-raised as he watched the man's back.

Left alone, Arcturus turned to face the front again, this time keeping his hands clasped on his legs. The glass of mead in front of him was still half filled. If he finished the glass and moved onto a next one, it was certain that he was going to get at least slightly drunk. He wondered if that was Johann's intention.

When Johann came back, the two glasses of mead thunking down on the table, the healer was gazing unseeingly at the glass. He only looked around when Johann sat down next to him for the second time that evening. "Why so early in the morning? I get the returning to a graveside to tend it, but why that time?"

Again, for the second time Arcturus opened his mouth but was interrupted by "Sorry, were you expecting me to ask who is laid there? I can take a guess given what you showed me the other day in your office, but say if I'm wrong. I'd be rather chuffed if someone visited me that often when I'd gone. My flatmate, Colin, has asked me to ensure my brain's in one piece when I go, so he can study it…Sorry, go on."

Well, the talk had given him time to think about the answers.

"It's a Sunday," he said carefully. "There's no one around that early on a Sunday morning, especially not in a cemetery. I don't...just tend to it, I talk to it." He hesitated, unsure about explaining, and then realised how odd his words had sounded with an uneasy lopsided smile. "That probably makes me sound like I'm going crazy, but...as far as I know, I probably already went crazy twelve years back anyway."

He took a sip from his current glass of mead to avoid looking at Johann, replaying his words in his head. It was fairly accurate, and he wasn't taking them back. "You know the answer, there's no way you can be wrong about it. As for the why, well, that's a long story I'll save for a longer drinking session and possibly a holiday." Bullet dodging; he felt that he couldn't say why to Johann. The level of trust was not there yet.

It was such a touchy subject that he could already feel himself slipping slightly into despairing territory. To stave it off he finished the glass of mead with a rather worrying eagerness. His body would present its bill tomorrow; for now all he wanted was to keep the darkness away, even if he was doing it in a way he had sworn he wouldn't use.

"Let's just say that...if someone visited you that often when you were dead and talked to you as if you were alive, you'd wonder about their mental health." He waved a hand vaguely. "I would. I do."

"… I talk to it. That probably makes me sound like I'm going crazy, but … as far as I know, I probably already went crazy twelve years back anyway."

Johann tilted his head to one side and mirrored the other man's uneasy lopsided smile. He was having a little difficulty reading the expression, but the more important part to him were the words.

"Well, at least we've got good company then." He spoke with assurance. "Not many who are truly crazy hold down a job as a healer though."

Johann nodded in agreement to the offer to explain another day. He wasn't keen to press answers, this sounded altogether rather heavy substance, and he'd only spend the whole night awake thinking about it and not sleeping.

His gaze didn't shift as Arcturus downed the rest of his mead. He was rather transfixed by the way he swallowed it… and then blinked purposefully and watched the glass go down instead, realising he was staring again.

"Thirsty?" Johann asked quietly, and nudged the fresh glass towards his fellow drinker. "It'll only go to waste…"

He frowned and rubbed his chin as he contemplated the other man's query on mental health. As a general rule, his friends reckoned he was rubbish at consolation, yet he had become more and more the person they chatted to about all manner of odd topics and worries in the last year, and Hollingbury was just a more recent edition. One he was glad to entertain.

"Physician heal thyself?" Johann quoted, though questioned its validity. As he spoke the words, he leaned in and their shoulders rested together a moment before he straightened again. As he did, Johann caught the scent of his companion and his eyes closed just a fraction as he realised.

"I'd be surprised I could remember the other person with such detail after twelve years without their presence to reinforce the memory, short of a pensieve. Why, what do you talk about?"

Without realising he'd asked a somewhat personal question. What did one tell a headstone in a cemetery? Although a little morbid, this was far more intriguing than buying Holingbury and drink and declaring 'still alive, all limbs intact and working' before finishing his drink and leaving.

"No, really, it will only go to waste," Johann insisted in a quiet voice, though more firmly than before. "Its not like you haven't got a decent apothecary with her own brews of hangover remedies on hand."

Arcturus looked at the second glass of mead, and then looked back up to Johann. The man's insistence on drinking it was adding its voice to the one in his heart, which was telling him to show some gratitude to him. On the other hand, his mind was not happy.

He shook his head. "Not thirsty. I'd rather not drink anymore, if it's all the same to you." Although he did get more talkative when he was heading into drunk territory, his voice remained quiet. "It's not that I'm worried about the hangovers, it's just that it's so easy to just wash away all the bad memories. Too easy to depend on alcohol to take everything away. I refuse to walk that path."

His tone was resigned, tired, but still persistent. "What do I talk about? Anything. Everything. Just as if she was alive, and I only wish she were alive today. When she was alive, I confided in her because I trusted her to give me the right advice." He looked away. "Now she doesn't, but I still confide in her like nothing's changed. After all, a gravestone cannot judge me, and won't betray me. It won't reveal my secrets, and it won't gossip about me. She never did any of that, and that's what I've always wanted."

That was a bit of a lie - there were far more things that he did want - but he felt selfish even for thinking such things. But he did want to say one more thing.

"In other words," his voice was soft, sad, bitter, "I'm just a coward. I would rather run away and hide than face what I deserve."

"… I refuse to walk that path." Johann shrugged and seemed unworried by that decision, but the mead remained untouched where he'd nudged it to, whereas his own was a quarter of the way through - he wasn't sure it was a wise follow up to the wine.

In contrast to Hollingbury's rather noble ways, Johann had no qualms in drinking himself to the point where he'd feel sleepy enough to faceplant into a bed or floor to sleep. He wasn't anywhere near that on a glass of wine and a bit of mead though. His preoccupation of the moment was rather in his fellow man, drinking in every motion and phrase, the way his hair fell, how he sat, the way he described things.

"I see. A gravestone doesn't answer back and cannot give you advice unless you already know the answer, but can't bring yourself to accept it?" The German replied thoughtfully, mulling over the scene he imagined in his head. "How good to have had a sister who could advise you to such a high quality. I am beginning to understand your ritual." His expression was soft, and somewhat understanding, though his gaze was unrelenting from within it.

"And I can hardly judge," he waggled a finger gently at the other man, "I don't need to visit a grave to talk to things that aren't there, and mine do answer back." He rolled his eyes ever so slightly and shrugged.

Right now his voices were busy enough studying the periphery of his vision, other drinkers, patrolling his senses for possible interruptions and eavesdroppers. This wasn't a bad day, this was a good one, so they were generally happy and chattering about trivial observations than goading him.

"What do you deserve?" Johann asked, eyebrow quirked. "Or what do you feel you should deserve?"

"What do you deserve? Or what do you feel you should deserve?"

Arcturus rested his chin on both hands and stared unseeingly at the table. What did he deserve? The brown wood smoothened out by the bottoms of glasses and plates scraping across the surface bore no answer for him, but he still stared at it like it would yield a reply from between the lines of the grain.

"...I don't know," he eventually said. "But whatever I think I deserve, I don't feel it's going to praise my avoidance and fears."

He shut his eyes and rested his forehead against his hands, letting his hair obscure his face. The alcoholic haze was now gently buzzing around his head; it was making him a little tired.

"Although, to start with," he said, "it's probably your questions. Honest and curious as they are, they're all good questions that I refrain from asking myself because I don't want to know the answer."

He lifted his head slightly, giving Johann a sideways look. "She was more than just a sister." His tone was soft, as if he was half-hoping that Johann wouldn't hear. "But for the sake of this conversation, she was my older sister."

"…I don't know, but whatever I think I deserve, I don't feel it's going to praise my avoidance and fears."

"Makes for two of us." Johann muttered, tone bitter all of a sudden. Then he shook his head to dismiss the sudden cold notion.

Arcturus seemed to tolerate him however, actively praising his curious questions about his routine on a Sunday and his relations with his late sister. Normally people didn't react that way, normally they suggested Johann was being nosy.

The linguist joined the healer by leaning his elbows on the table and folded one arm over the other.

"She was your friend, your confidant and your adviser." Johann replied logically to Arcturus, reaching out a long-fingered hand to raise his mead from the table, studying the liquid in the glass.

"I've no siblings, so I can only imagine how it was, but losing something - someone is never supposed to be easy." He shrugged, sat up and clapped Arc on the nearest shoulder in a manner that was a little too familiar, but generally friendly, drinking a healthy sip before asking:

"But its over a decade ago, why does it still tear you apart now? That's ages ago, you've lived what, half of your life since then."

This was one of those moments where common sense mildly evaded Johann. He looked towards Arcturus who was leant over the table, wracked with a depressive guilt or some similar awful emotion amongst the bustle of a Sunday evening pub, but it didn't twig that his drinking partner was in any way uncomfortable with the conversation - other than the questions were tricky to answer.

Nor did it occur to him that he could ask himself much the same question about continuing a habit for so long.

"You've no other siblings, I take it?"