With the same care that he'd use to arrange food on a plate, Arc carefully spooned some of the mixture he'd been creaming into one of the paper cupcake cases sitting on the baking tray next to his bowl. Perhaps some would consider the absence of magic being used to do anything weird here, but most of the time Arc considered magic in anything else other than speeding up things cheating (unless it was an emergency). It was satisfying to make things by hand.

He was carefully measuring out a fourth case when there was a knock on the door. Pausing mid-mix, he looked towards where the sound had come from for a few seconds, wondering if he was just hearing things. No, there it was again. Odd. He was sure he wasn't expecting anyone on this quiet night.

Arc left the spatula in the bowl and washed his hands before going to open the door. Rustle had long beat him to it and was sitting next to the door staring at it. If there was anything suspicious, the kneazle wasn't showing any signs of it.

"Nothing, Rustle?" he asked the kneazle gently, before pulling open the door and looking up into the face of the visitor. "Hi, how m-- huh?" He blinked. "Hi? Come on in before you freeze. Sorry, I shouldn't...I'll explain once you get in."

Open the door, open the door

Johann's ears strained for noise inside of 277b while also keeping track of those around him in the Alley. Since Friday night[1] he had been on edge, and as a result, had his wand clasped in his hand inside his coat pocket. Ordinarily it was tucked inside within his jacket unless he knew he needed to use it outside. Today, it had rarely been away from his fingertips.

Arcturus looked surprised more than angry at him, which was a good result. He didn't say anything to the greeting, but headed straight in without hesitation. The Healer was fully clothed, so it was safe enough (he had not interrupted him and Lix) and even if he wasn't he'd take standing on the stairs over the doorstep where it wasn't.

Rustle was milling at his feet, but he didn't stoop to say hello.

"Have you got an hour?" He asked abruptly as the door shut behind. In the shadow of the stairs it was clear enough that something wasn't right from the look on his face and the tension in his voice. When they had returned to Atreus and recovered his familiar bag, now hung across his body now, he had found the log gone. Monday's appointment had been lost amongst everything. It was somewhat a surprise that he hadn't received a bollocking from Gabrielle Murray by the afternoon as Hollingbury had warned him would happen.

"I-I need to talk to you."

1.	Jan 14, 2011 Your Only Hope is Evil

Arc blinked at him, one eyebrow raised, in concern and worry as he scanned the man's face. Maybe Johann didn't know, but there were a lot of familiar behaviour tics he could see due to his own previous experiences and a high amount of self-awareness. This was enough to be worrying.

"An hour? Johann, I would make all the time in the world for you, especially if you're looking like that," he said, concern in his voice. "You're not interrupting me. Go and sit down at the kitchen table, I'll make tea. You look like you need it, even Rustle agrees." The kneazle was purring loudly - something he only did if he liked and trusted the person very much (and that was only Arc) or was concerned about someone.

"If you need to talk right away, go ahead. What is it?" A million ideas had sprang to his head as he headed up the stairs, but he voiced none of them.

Johann nodded thankfully, still tense, but a little less anxious for the assurance. His hand drew out of his coat pocket, wand in hand as he ascended, the other hand was unbuttoning his damp coat as Arc followed him. If the other man did not know him better it might have appeared he was ready to turn on the spot and hex his friend.

"Is Lix in?" Johann asked nervously. At the confirmation otherwise from behind him, his shoulders sank a little in relief. Once atop the stairs he lifted his bag and placed it down beneath the hooks. He kept his coat on, feeling cold, especially as it was raining. He shoved his wand away within the suit jacket below it, avoiding Arc's gaze.

The table was covered in baking equipment at the end nearest the sink, including a mixing bowl and paper cases set out to receive mixture. Despite Arc's explanation that he wasn't interrupting, he was. Johann's eyes nervously glanced around the living room, checking for figures as he crossed it in silence and drew out chair at the opposite end to where Arc had clearly been working. He sank down, pulling his coat around him and exhaled visibly.

"Thank you." He began as he watched the younger wizard move about the kitchen, chin lowered. He'd come straight from work, as agreed with Balfour late the previous evening. It was frightening to be apart at the moment and he especially didn't want to be alone in Atreus at all. Still, somehow he had muddled through the day, and his colleagues Pinn and Kelly hadn't complained too much when they noticed he'd translated something into the wrong language for them in his distraction.

"Did it come back to you?" Johann asked without context. His pale hands were clasped on the kitchen table before him, and he was trying to ignore the fact he was shaking. "The log?" The horrible thought that it hadn't come back to Arcturus but was instead with Almasy had plagued his thoughts since its disappearance.

"No, she's not in." It was kind of obvious, besides. Elixa tended to occupy the kitchen table when she was in.

Arc set about to making tea, carefully re-arranging the baking tools with his wand so that there was space on the kitchen table. The counter was not very wide, but that wasn't much of a problem. He set the kettle to boil and got tea - screw his own orders, Johann seemed like he would need real tea - ready in mugs waiting for the steaming stream of water. Then he turned back to see Johann still in his coat. His concerned expression hadn't left his face.

"Did it come back to you?" Hands on the table, clasped tightly. Johann was too pale to tell if his knuckles had gone white from gripping his hands, but Arc tried anyway. "The log?

The healer stood for a moment, and then went into the living room. He came back and set the book on the table in front of Johann, with the addition of the tip of a red piece of paper as a makeshift bookmark stuck in it. Then he drew up one of the other chairs, close enough to Johann to reach his hands but not so close that he was right up in the man's personal space. Rustle had jumped onto the table on the other side and was watching the two.

He carefully and slowly reached out to lay his hands gently on Johann's. The man's hands were cold and clammy, a stark difference to his own. "Johann, you're safe here," he said quietly and slowly, keeping his gaze on his friend's face. "If you're not, I will do everything to make sure you are, even if it means attacking anyone. I swear that on my life." There was a firmness in his voice that Johann had probably not heard of before.

What else would he have wanted when he was in this state? "If you want to tell me anything or cry or hide, I won't say anything. I won't judge you. It's your choice, whatever you want to do, but as long as you're here nothing will happen to you."

Rustle meowed as if in agreement.

At the sight of the familiar blue log book, he exhaled with relief and reached his fingers out to touch the cover just to be sure. Arcturus sat down close beside him and extended his hands. He looked down to their hands together before his friend reached him. Arc's hands were warm, and the weight initially only made him more aware of how his hands shook.

The curly haired wizard nodded to the firm words, appreciating them deeply for the way they were delivered. They helped steady his anxious heart as the smell of flour, sugar and of a once home reached his nose. He wasn't sure how to tell Arcturus that he might have a hard time attacking Ira Almasy, but really he had to tell himself she and Layton had better things to than come after him.

"Badger, things have gone a bit wrong." He tried, not sure at all how to explain himself. Whereas other times he'd rehearsed words, tonight it was a sea of possibles all mashed. He spoke quickly, eyes unfocused, darting from Arcturus to Rustle to their hands as he continued. "I'm a mess, so forgive me if this comes out in the wrong order. I just, if I don't tell you now I won't ever manage to and I need to explain this," he gestured to the log with a tap of his fingers beneath the other man's hands, "and what's happening."

Johann took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to think clearly. The tension in his shoulders was less than when he arrived, but he was still on edge. Had he managed to sleep it wouldn't be half as bad, and he would be able to think objectively.

"Friday night I was attacked. Broke my nose, amongst other things. Looked worse I think for all the blood I'd lost than it was once I was healed." He puffed out his cheeks. "It was someone who has employed me for a while now. I can't say who exactly, one of them who fall into the category I must keep confidential. I didn't see it coming." Beneath Arc's hands, Johann's clasped into frustrated balls. "We had to run away. Both of us." He frowned, "My stupid fault, we had to run away from home. I'm not making sense. I'm sorry," Johann swore at himself and lifted his hands to press the heels into his eye sockets gently. He would not cry. He had cried until he couldn't cry any more and it wasn't any help.

He raked the fingers of both hands through his tangled curls and looked up to Arcturus properly.
"I've barely slept since then apart from being put to sleep after I was healed. Everything is back, everything, like it was in July. I need your help."

As Johann explained, Arc's expression slowly melded into one of more furrowed concentration that still emanated concern and worry. In the past he'd voiced his opinion of Johann's shady side jobs, but he knew that he could never change whatever his friend chose to do. Now this sounded like a mistake, a choice gone wrong. Without details he wouldn't know how it started, but that didn't concern him as much as looking at his friend and realising - and recognising - the damage done.

Johann had Arc's full attention. He listened without interrupting. Though he was a little alarmed to see Johann tense his hands and then cover his eyes, he didn't move or speak until Johann said those words.

"First things first, do you two have a safe place to stay?" he asked, still in that quiet but firm voice. "A place you're sure that people won't come looking for you? Somewhere you can stay in and feel secure? You need to distance yourself as soon as possible from wherever it happened. Get your stuff, ask someone else if you can't stand the idea of going back, leave. It might be temporary, but for now don't think about that. Does Balfour know you're here?

"Are you okay now? Did you lose a lot of blood?" The kettle was close to the boil, but he ignored it for now. "It's okay. Don't worry about not making sense. Don't apologise. You're frazzled and tired, and it shows. I understand you just fine. You're missing the most recent days in your log, so I don't know if you're still on your diminishing use of sleeping potion. Are you?" There was one temporary remedy for how Johann was feeling, but both Arc and Elixa knew they would only break it out if things were really dire.

"Don't stop yourself from crying. Let it out. You might feel that it's a waste of time, but it helps." Even the cynical voice in his head had gone silent. "Right now you need to protect yourself, and that's fine. Why are you having trouble sleeping? Is it bad dreams, nightmares? Memories of pain? Talk to me about how you feel. Just...talk, tell me what you need to tell me about how you feel, don't feel pressured that you're bothering me." Arc gave him a half-smile to reassure him. "Let it all out. I'm here to listen, your secrets are safe with me."

Arc wouldn't be Arc unless he returned a barrage of questions at a time like this. Johann glanced from the whistling kettle lifting itself up to pour water into the mugs on the kitchen side to Arc. Listening but not managing to answer.

"... I'm here to listen, your secrets are safe with me."

"That sounds way creepier than I think you intended." Johann replied, though it did induce the ghost of a smile on his exhausted face. "Can you -" Johann tried again and dropped his hands back to the table. "Can you ask me fewer at once, mate, next time. I think I can remember that barrage. Just." His friend was too used to his trap-like memory that could keep up, but there was a lot going on in his head right now.

"We're staying at home. We went back late yesterday. If it's not safe we'll go back to Edinburgh[1], which is safest. I won't go home alone, Balfour knows I'm here. I don't like the thought of him being there alone, but he at least can defend himself." Johann gave a shrug, still irritated at himself for not managing to draw his wand at all against Ira. "Distance isn't something I can achieve easily in the circumstances, but I'll make sure I'm not there alone for a while at least." The more he talked the steadier he felt. Half of the trouble was his mix of natural cowardice with the lack of sleep. He wasn't thinking straight.

"I don't know how much I lost. It was all over the bathroom. Probably looked more than it was. Ha- er, gave me some potion to help replace it[2]." He wasn't sure if he wanted to admit to not going to St Mungo's. He wasn't sure how Arcturus would react, or have to answer the questions of why he didn't trust the hospital. "I'm better than I was at the time, just jittery. Shaken up a bit still, you know?" His speech was beginning to return to the normal speed and pitch as he calmed down.

"And I was, I've been doing pretty well." He gestured to the log. "But can't shut my head up again. Just trying to figure everything out. Combination of being irate with myself, with her, with - just - Merlin I am an idiot." He landed the bottom of his fist on the kitchen table in annoyance and sat back, looking past to the tea, unaware of the minor detail accidentally expressed. He shrugged. "Nightmares when I do sleep. I had to ditch what I had, paranoia probably but I think someone's been in my flat and I don't want a repeat of December[3]. Sorry Rustle, didn't mean to make you jump." He reached forward to pet the kneazle with one hand, and then swiftly followed with the other as Arc's familiar padded a little closer. 

1.	15th January, 2011 Wait Till Dawn & Then Go
2.	14th January, 2011 Closed and Bruised
3.	4th December 2010 Swallow

"Can you ask me fewer at once, mate, next time. I think I can remember that barrage. Just." Arc looked contrite. "Oh. I'm sorry." It really was a bad habit, he wasn't aware of doing it until he'd done it.

He listened again, interlacing his fingers on the table in front of him while Rustle sat on his haunches watching Johann. They'd figured out most things easily enough, it was mostly common sense, after all. That left the trouble of dealing with what couldn't be seen but could be felt hard enough. From behind him he could hear the kettle settle back onto the stove.

Johann's fist hitting the table made him jump as much as it startled the kneazle. He looked up at his friend. This case was resonating all too well with his own experiences, so much so that as Rustle began to purr under Johann's hands, Arc was feeling somewhat sad about it.

"Well, you're on a good start making sure you're not alone," he said. "Do things that make you happy. You can't do anything about what happened in the past now, so try to not...berate yourself about it too hard." Hypocrite. It was like a bitter knife twist, but he ignored it, the little devil on his shoulder. "The paranoia is normal. Personal space has been violated, it happened abruptly, the shock will take a while to go away."

He gently drummed his fingers on the table surface, frowning a little. "I don't know what you did to get that, and I don't want to know. That isn't any of my business anyway. But...but whatever you need to do to come to terms with your actions, that one might take a while. We all make mistakes." He turned his eyes downwards. "Whatever you do to try and...figure it out, just do it with someone. You're not alone, at least."

The bitter blade twisting in his chest had him trail away from those words. He directed his attention away from Johann to bring the mugs floating towards the table, where they politely set themselves down. Rustle ignored them, gently rubbing his cheek against Johann's hand, while Arc took a sip from one of the mugs to distract himself from feeling like a hypocrite.

"... You can't do anything about what happened in the past now..." Except he could, or he could entertain the notion of somehow proving who and how and why, but it would be at personal risk of Azkaban. So he couldn't. Not unless he couldn't live with it and had to turn himself in. He'd spent time not sleeping preoccupied with it, and he needed some strong sleeping potion to erase his conscience again.

"The paranoia is normal. Personal space has been violated, it happened abruptly, the shock will take a while to go away." Rustle's purring beneath the explanations from Arcturus were helping. Strange how an animal could provide a different kind of comfort to a human being. While he'd been at home recovering from the poisoning Whiskey, Balfour's dog had received all the pets and when Balfour hadn't been there, cuddles.

Johann focused on Rustle a moment as Arc summoned the tea over to the table.
"We all make mistakes."
"Mm." He let a silence fall between them, not sure what to say. His mind was a cacophony of voices telling him he better tell Arcturus that he helped poison all those people, while simultaneously howling at him to keep his mouth shut. He owed his friend some sort of proper explanation for all the months of putting up with him. Explaining it put it into perspective, made it easier to comprehend in his noisy head. He slid his coat from his shoulders and let it flop over the back of the chair, feeling a little warmer. His shoulders were still hunched beneath his black suit jacket.

"Arcturus, if I tell you exactly what I've done, you won't want to look at me. But it will help me to tell you something." He reached for the other mug, twisting it round with his long fingers on the rim. "The work I can't speak about in any detail, is illegal. You'd probably guessed as much." His gaze was on the table rather than towards his friend. "I know how to work systems, cut corners. I always have, even for big business before I came here. It's a puzzle and a profitable one if I get it right. I forget the consequences once I've found the loophole and learned to abuse it. I get a kick out of showing off."

He shrugged at the confession and lifted his cup of tea and sipped, swallowing noisily. The shake of his hands had oddly stopped, and his focus was steady. "I did a good job[1] for this client, but I made a connection from my actions on their behalf to something that happened end of last year. Something I wholeheartedly regret. I didn't have any idea one would lead to the other, you have to believe me." He lifted a hand, fingers splayed and extended it between them towards Arcturus, meeting the healer's dark eyes.

"I was angry, angry to know I was small part of a larger, vicious machine, but such a bloody idiot not to realise. Of course I was, I always have been, one efficient little cog." He pinched his fingers together in illustration before balling his hand into a fist and returning it to the tabletop. "And because I angry I ran my mouth off and paid for it." He gestured to his face with his right hand as if his nose were exploding, the tremble present again. His left hand gestured to the small of his back, not placing any pressure on it. "Balfour found me in the bathroom of my flat bleeding out[2]. I didn't know how to heal myself." Johann let out a laboured sigh, ran a hand over Rustle again and drank thirstily.

1.	1st December, 2010 Fake, Forge, Fabricate
2.	14th January, 2011 Our Weakness is Clear Now

"Arcturus, if I tell you exactly what I've done, you won't want to look at me. But it will help me to tell you something. The work I can't speak about in any detail, is illegal. You'd probably guessed as much." At that, Arc heaved a weary sigh. He'd thought so.

He listened to Johann. At the mention of "something that happened end of last year", he raised an eyebrow. There had been a lot of things that happened at the end of last year, and none of them he looked back fondly on.

The more Johann talked the more Arc's suspicions deepened. Paranoia about the Ministry notwithstanding, he had had a deeply unsettling notion that someone was twisting the wizarding society around. It pained him to suspect that Johann might possibly have a hand in it, and while he knew he couldn't assume whatever event the man had been indirectly responsible for, or blame him for not knowing, it still troubled him.

When Johann finished, the healer silently leaned his forehead against one hand and stared at the table instead. He'd always known Johann had a streak for risk, but he hadn't thought it would go this far. Or this significant. As much as he wished he could help stop Johann doing this and direct his intelligence and efficiency - he wasn't going to deny that Johann was an efficient person - to something more beneficial, he knew of nothing that would engage Johann's mind as much as his shady side jobs did. And knowing that alone ate away at him like a malicious, corrosive worm.

If Johann sounded as if there was no way out for him, then what could Arc do? This was out of his hands. Even he had to admit there was only so much he could do. And this knowledge, along with its accompanying swell of anger, sadness and fear that formed his opinion of what Johann did, was so much to bear on its own that he had to speak out.

"If everyone knew how to heal themselves," he said, his voice strained, "they wouldn't need us anymore. By the sounds of it, you had help without the hospital. I'm not surprised you didn't go there, because, yes, people would have asked. But what I don't understand, see, is the fact that you just go ahead with something without thinking of the consequences because it feeds your ego." He put his hands down flat on the table, something akin to frustration showing on his face along with his contemplative frown. "Why? Because the way I see it, the more you keep doing this the more it will tear you apart, and the way you keep being self-destructive tears me apart. It's like," he held up his hands in the air, "you don't care about yourself at all."

He dropped his hands back down on the table and stared at Johann with an agonised look. "I don't want to tell you off or be angry with you, honestly, because it doesn't help matters and I know you just want to get it off your chest. But I can't help feeling this way with you. Whether it's sleeping potion or work, just--" Arc balled his hands into fists, the deep-seated frustration surging over him, "sad at watching you recover from one self-destructive activity only to barrel into the next and ram yourself into a dead end because you're blinded by the desires of instant gratification and can't even see two steps ahead of you.

"You're probably going to say to me, eventually even if not now, 'Then you can stop watching and turn away and leave me to it if it pains you that much.' And I'll tell you: that's hard. More than hard, that's excruciatingly difficult for me to do that. I never want to turn my back on my friends. In this world, in this kind of society, that's a flaw that would kill me the moment I take a wrong turning, but I will go down fighting before I change my mind on that." Though his fingernails were always short due to his hospital work, they were biting into his palms.

"I don't even know what's the point of telling you all this, because if I know you well enough you're just going to keep doing the same thing, whether you choose to or you've cornered yourself into a dead alley so hard that you can't get out of it." Arc looked away. Sadness had come to accompany the frustration, and dominate it. His fists relaxed into half-curled hands dejectedly. "The best I can do is be here for you when you need someone's support. Because I don't turn away from someone I care for. I'm not going to question how long I'm going to hold out for you, even with what knowledge I have about you." He looked at the nail marks on his palms. "But if you expect me to remain silent and keep my opinion to myself, if that's what you look for from me, then I'm afraid I can't do that."

He folded his arms across his chest, gaze falling away. "And now I fully expect you to get up and yell at me for that, or storm out." Arc closed his eyes. "I just wanted you to know that regardless of how much I care, that's my opinion. And regardless of my opinion, I still care. You are someone whose presence I value in my life despite whatever differences in morality or opinion we have. If that weren't the case I wouldn't have said all that I just said. I only hope, even if you feel that's impossible, that you can find your way out of whatever you've gotten yourself into and turn things around. Even--Even if that sounds stupidly naive."

Heart thumping in his chest at what he'd finally gotten off his own chest and breathing fairly shallowly, he squeezed shut his eyes tightly and waited for the inevitable sound of Johann raising his voice - or, even worse, the chair scraping backwards followed by the door opening and shutting.

M - F-bomb ahead

---

To say Arcturus looked sad to hear all this was a little understatement. Johann was only too keenly aware the past six months that the truth hurt. It hurt other people, it hurt him, but that lies were equal hurt combined with added disappointment that this was not even the truth.

The weekend in Edinburgh had been an end to all the lies and half-truths to Balfour. It had all be outed, how he had come to work for Ira[1], that he had worked for Vedir Prideaux[2], who he had worked for back in Hanover[3]. The same pattern over and over, why he was so hooked on it. It had made him feel sick about himself, about the things he did, but to confess and to see Balfour react as he did, to still hold him in his arms and tell him equal horrors and understand there were reasons, and who they were dealing with. As much as it had eased him it had worried him.

He set down the mug, elbows on the table, and lifted his clasped hands to cover his mouth as he regarded Arcturus cautiously.
"By the sounds of it, you had help without the hospital." Johann nodded, eyes not leaving Arc's face. "… because it feeds your ego." Johann's face twitched. His ego? It wasn't his ego, he didn't at least perceive it to be. ".. the way you keep being self-destructive tears me apart…" Behind his hands, Johann's mouth fell open in surprise. He had not expected Arcturus to use quite that expression, and it suggested what Johann briefly suspected when they were alone together. "… you don't care about yourself at all."

Tears pricked in the corners of his blue eyes and he tried to meet Arc's stare but he had to try and blink the salty sting away. His gaze dropped with Arc's hands as he continued, and he bit the end of his fingertips harder and harder as his friend continued.

"I don't even know what's the point in telling you all this, because if I know you well enough you're just going to keep doing the same thing…" It was a quiet sob that escaped his tight throat, and he let go of biting his fingers to use a thumb to wipe at one eye and then the other.

"… if you expect me to remain silent and keep my opinion to myself…" Johann shook his head vigorously and wiped at his eyes again. There was no hiding that he was crying now, and he leaned back, swallowing and wiping at his eyes with his hands, trying hard to stop himself.

"I only hope… you can find your way out of whatever you've gotten yourself into…" As Arcturus stopped talking, Johann made a strange noise and clasped a hand to his mouth, screwing his eyes shut. He knew he was pitiful, there was absolutely no use in crying, but he was too tired, too caught up in cyclical thinking to be angry at anyone but himself.

He drew his chair back and did get up from the table but not to leave, just to put some distance between them and try and calm himself down by turning away and biting the knuckles of his right hand as he clasped his left arm across his stomach, closed in on himself, shoulders rounded.


"Do you have any sleeping potion?" He asked Arcturus, facing the other way, strain in his voice. It was a strange contrast to all that Arcturus had just said. He dropped his hands to put them on his hips and flinched at his left hand, deciding better, "I need to sleep Arcturus, I haven't got any, I don't want to be out alone and I don't trust… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't mean to be such a miserable idiot, mate. I really don't. Grrh!"

In his frustration he growled and punched the top of Arc's preferred armchair. Another fine idea he thought to himself as he shook out his hand, turning back, not able to look directly at his friend, cheeks streaked from the tears he was now suppressing again.

"Belladonna, Ignatia, either of those, but I'll need quite a bit." He swore to himself under his breath, "I'm pissed, pissed because I'm letting you down, pissed because I'm back to square one." He punctuated the third repetition with another punch to the armchair. "She didn't fucking kill me Friday but she'll help me kill myself instead." He let out an exasperated noise, somewhere between a growl and a anguished moan and paced towards the window and back, hands gripping his curls.

1.	19th October, 2010 With Good Intentions
2.	23rd February, 2009 When you're curious, you find lots of interesting things to do
3.	22nd June, 2008 Intelligence and Morals Are Not Always Hand in Hand

Despite his predictions - or whatever his anxiety liked to present to him in its usual manner - he opened his eyes, half-disbelieving that Johann would have actually stood up and left. Something small inside his head heaved a sigh of relief when Joh didn't, but he watched his friend get up and stride towards the living room.

Oh, he could recognise the defensive mechanism. It simply made things more reminiscent, the way Johann paced and the self-loathing seething and boiling barely under the surface. He'd said his part, whatever he had felt about Johann's 'work'. Now a choice.

The healer drank half his mug of tea in one, and then set the mug down. The chair scraped against the tiles as he got to his feet, keeping his silence. He crossed the room, Rustle at his heels, to Johann.

"Sit down," he said quietly to his friend. "Rustle will stay with you. I'll be gone for a bit." Without further explanation, he slung over his shoulder the messenger bag that he carried to work every day, threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and stepped into the flames.

It took him slightly longer than he'd estimated, but he returned eventually. Rustle deigned to stay with Johann, only looking towards his owner and giving a meow in greeting as Arcturus retrieved a small, but long, box from the bag and set it down on the coffee table.

"Five days," he said. "Each bottle will only last one night of those five days. The green bottle is Ignatia, but a very specifically diluted version that will buy you eight hours, approximately, of sleep. The blue bottle is a diluted Draught of Peace that will give you five hours of calm for you to take throughout your working day. You cannot force the blue vial to give you any more than one drop per hour, so use it well."

The healer retrieved two of the aforesaid bottles from the box and held it out to Johann. "I'm keeping control of this," he said flatly. "If you need any more, you'll have to drop by for me to give it to you. If you can't, send Balfour. Him turning up on my doorstep is nothing compared to worrying about you, and I'm sure he'd share the same sentiment."

With that done, Arcturus fetched his mug from the kitchen table after putting the box into the bag, and then sat down on the sofa to drink the rest of the tea. There was silence between them for a while.

Eventually he said, "That's all in your file, by the way. That doesn't come without a price, and while I'd love to sneak it out, I can't break the rules. But that's what I would have wanted someone to do for me years ago, and I'll not have you go through what I did then to make the world not seem so frightening.

"I know I don't have to do this for you." His voice was quieter, not flat but gentler. "I know you hate that you have to bother me. I know you don't want to be alone, that you feel like you can't trust anyone. That you need to function and want to get over it, but you can't pull yourself out of it. That it feels horrible to have anyone see you fall apart, but the feeling of falling apart is ever present and threatening to shatter your world. That everything is basically your fault and you don't want to be a load and a problem to everyone who cares about you."

Familiarity was more seeping into his tone by now. The healer took another sip of tea. "Do whatever you need to get it out of your system," he said, gazing into the fire. "I'll be here, and I won't leave you. I know how it feels."

Arc left. Johann felt panic set in as he was left alone. Apart from getting from the Ministry to where he was now, he'd not been alone since he was attacked.


"Distractions, distractions…" He muttered, looking down to Rustle at his feet on the rug, and then to the kitchen table. The blue log book was still there beside the mugs, and Arc's baking. He paused, looking from one to the other. No, not the baking. There was distraction and then there was culinary ambition. The second was very much still a work in progress for the linguist. He snatched up his bag from the top of the stairs to the front door. He eyed the door below with trepidation, hoping it was locked after his arrival. 

From there he crossed back and seized the log. He brought them both back to the end of the sofa with his back to the front windows, sitting sideways on it so he could see the fireplace to his left, the kitchen ahead of him and the top of the stairs over the back of the sofa to his right. Rustle had watched his journey, and now hopped up with him to the other side of the sofa and resumed purring. The kneazle trailed his whiskers over the edge of the log as he sniffed at it.

The affection was appreciated, even if a kneazle couldn't protect him against an insane face-changing witch, the purring at least made him feel a little better. The Fates back at Atreus didn't give him the time of day, Rustle was the only cat of sorts he managed to get on with. He focused on the way Rustle managed to keep a rolling purr as he turned pages to find where he'd left the notes. It was quiet save for the rain and the purr, so he tried to forget Arc wasn't nearby.

The fireplace eventually spluttered into life as Johann inked in the details of Monday's lack of sleep back at Atreus as neatly as he could, handwriting evening out the more he wrote. His left hand stroked Rustle intermittently. The kneazle meowed in greeting but did not stray from his petting other than to shift round to observe his owner. Johann finished the sentence hastily and set the log open on the edge of the coffee table so the ink could dry, the quill resting in the crease. Beside it, Arcturus placed an unfamiliar box and immediately had Johann's undivided attention.

Ignatia was to treat insomnia most commonly after a loss, where sleep is difficult to come by and fitful. It would treat twitching, tossing, nightmares, and of the two was the better fit for his symptoms. Johann's eyes barely left the bottles as one of each was extended towards him after explanations. He reached out to lift them from the outstretched hand.

"I'm keeping control of this." Arcturus informed him, and the tone suggested no negotiation. For a short moment Johann paused, as if reconsidering collection before he lifted them clear.
"Thank you." He uttered quietly, rolling the bottles across his palm in quiet contemplation.

He set aside the ignatia and unstoppered the top of the blue bottle, a faint trail of silver vapour rising from the neck. Lifting it he loosened a drop from it to his tongue and let himself slump gently against the back of the sofa, eyes closing. Between the potion, the kneazle and his owner's returned presence, Johann had optimism he'd be back in some state of control enough to leave and go home once it took effect. Enough perhaps even to tackle the lift alone.

"That's all in your file, by the way." Arcturus spoke at last from the other end of the sofa. Johann's eyes came open, blinking gently as he listened. "… I won't leave you. I know how it feels."
"Thank you." Johann said again, "I don't think I can say that enough to you, Badger." He blinked slowly again, pretty sure the potion was now taking effect. He felt strangely numb, but it was rather pleasant.

"I do hate it. I hate to rely on anyone in a personal capacity." He drew a slow breath, "You're right, you're always right. I don't care about myself. I prefer to care about people who matter to me." There was a pause and he frowned, correcting, "… About the things that matter to me. I get a kick out of it, and that - or this," he gestured to the bottles, "is going to get me, and I'm sorry you're having to watch. I won't blame you if you do give up on me. I'll understand." He dipped his head respectfully a moment. "A man can't keep leaning on a Badger. The Badger must move on." He glanced up, the ghost of a smile on his tired features. "And an idiot must find his way home, think on the word of his wise friend, sleep. Live another day." He turned away, assembling the bottles, log and quill into his bag with a methodical, steady pace.

"Balfour will be fretting. Oh - tomorrow." He stopped, remembering their arrangement to swim. A small part of him wanted to cancel, but with the potion drowning the anxiety enough to think clearly, he reasoned it would be better to carry on, to get out and not be scared. Not to let Ira win. "I still want to go, if you do? It's been really good to learn so far." He smiled genuinely, and the action lifted his spirits further to think of the challenge of co-ordinating his limbs to propel himself through the water, learning from Arcturus how the motions went together[1]. "Do you think it'll be alright?" He asked, gesturing to his back, forgetting his friend had no idea what he meant.

1.	9th January, 2011 I'll Get You Wet… Behind the Ears

M tag - F dropped

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"Think on the word of his wise friend..." And that's all you'll be doing with regards to your health, isn't it? If any wising should be done, it should be on your part, not mine. Arc didn't say that out loud as Johann spoke, but his weariness increased by a little.

He raised his eyebrows at Johann's gesture, before holding his hands up in a clearly nonplussed manner. "I don't know what you mean," he said bluntly. "I'm glad you enjoy learning, though. Wouldn't want you to get bored." He looked towards his partly done baking. So much for a quiet evening.

"I...fuck it, you're a friend." Arc ran a hand through his hair, resting his other hand on a hip. "You can stop thanking me, Johann. I appreciate the gesture and the words and you repaying me, I really do, but you know what? The best you can do is get out of your situation alive, and well, and happy, and that's it. Badger has to move on, you're right. You can't keep leaning on me, you're right. So just get better and stay that way, all right? That is the biggest thanks you can give me without saying anything.

"Now, what's this about your back?" The healer gestured in the general direction of Johann. "If I'm guessing right, are you worried about possible splitting, stretching, tearing or ripping? Washing away of application of medicine? Pool water is sanitised, but what it's sanitisied with I doubt you want in your body."