Dreogan knew this wasn't a dream; he'd had plenty of experience with those.  But coming into Adon's flat, everything in disarray, his mother silent, everything silent, everything numb, his brother's expression vacant--nothing seemed like it should be.  Dreogan had dragged up a chair beside the bed where his brother was neatly tucked in. His mother had opted to stay on her feet beside him, fretting.

Detail by detail, Dreogan processed.  It wasn't accurate to say Adon was awake. His eyes were open.  That much could be said. It also didn't feel right to call him Adon, just now. The face of his brother looked up at the ceiling, eyes occasionally blinking.  Every once in a while, his throat would work down a swallow.  But, judging from the damp cloth wadded beside him and pillowcase, sometimes  his brother's body didn't always manage that.  Dreogan fingers reached out, curling around his brother's wrist, instinctively feeling for the pulse. Aghast, realising what he was doing--of course he was alive--he shifted his hand slightly, clasping his brother’s limp fingers instead.

There was something wet, something off about the palm.  Dreogan rotated it gently, engaging in a much more literal palm reading. The area was an angry red, slightly raised. It was sticky with a sort of ointment. He knelt down to examine it closer, fingers brushing over the surface. “What's this?” Behind him, he heard the sound of his mother's bare feet on the floorboards, the rustle of her skirts, but no words. “Are these blisters? You didn’t mention these…”  She'd mentioned a broken nose and unresponsiveness. That’s all. He'd understood, when he'd shown up.  She'd wanted to break the news about the Dementor's kiss in person. She might have done it sooner, though.

He looked up. His mother seemed to be shrinking inward, moving back to the foot of the bed with the lightness of a cat.  “Did you tell anyone about this? Law enforcement? Ma, Dementors don't do this.  But if someone else did, we n—“

“It wasn’t a dementor.” The cold smallness in her voice sent a wave of panic through Dree. He turned on his seat to look at her.

“….Okay,” he encouraged, trying to level his nerves. Hestia shook her head, shrinking further away. “Ima.” His voice was stern as a father’s.

“It was a lapse in judgment.”

Dree paled. His stomach dropped like a rock, but he leapt to his feet. The suddenness of it left his head reeling for a moment, blood pumping to his face, then draining. “You did this?”

“I wanted to see if I could get a reaction. Anything. Dree, dear, you don’t understand what it’s been like, watching him, his eyes open, all this time.”

She was right. He didn’t know what it had been like. He hadn’t been given permission to come; he’d come on his own accord, and too late, it seemed.

“It was alright at first, when the eyes were closed. You can pretend he’s still here, sleeping. But when they’re open and empty and you realize that that’s not Adon, it might as well be a shoe or a ... a vegetable... and if I could just get him to do something,” Hestia turned away, her hands trying to stop her sobs. Her voice was muffled. “The candle was right there, so I…” Dreogan's eyes shot over to the candle on the bedside table.  It was suddenly difficult to breathe.

“Please—” she whispered.  Dreogan didn’t know what, exactly she was asking for. Forgiveness? A kind word? A hug? She looked so small, hands wringing, head bent.  Fragile and uncertain and utterly unHestia.   He ignored the sobs as he set his brother’s hand down gently, palm up.

He turned to face her directly, silently waiting, arms folded against his chest.

By degrees, Hestia managed to compose herself.  She once more faced her son.“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You weren’t.” Dreogan agreed, coolly.  Her frame shook with another sob.  Dreogan pushed down the mounting anger and the crawling revulsion he felt in the current moment. He could do this.

With a sigh, he moved towards her, setting an arm lightly on her shoulder.  He began to steer her towards the steps down to the main landing.  “Ma, you haven’t slept in 36 hours. You weren’t thinking. You need some rest.”  He needed her gone.  He needed Adon safe. And he needed to lie right now to make that happen. “We need you here, hm? But not like this. Go sleep.”

Gently, he urged her down the stairs, nudging her onward when she paused several times to look back, frozen like Lot’s wife.

“C’mon, ma. We’ll be fine. Mai can stay up with him tonight. You can come back tomorrow morning; I’ll be over by lunchtime to be with you.”

She sniffed, nodding, silently allowing her to be led to the door. He helped her into her cloak, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and closed the door.

His mother had been right about one thing, though. The silence in the flat, the sense of being alone but not alone, was unsettling.  He didn’t even hesitate. Dreogan was moving over to the desk, pulling a new sheaf of parchment within moments.

Maiko,

I’ve sent my mother home for some rest. I’m planning on spending most of tonight here with Adon, but hoped you’d like to join. I’d be happy of the company.

Dreogan

Mai hadn't wasted any time as soon as the bat arrived, peering into her living room window and terrifying Kohaku. Letters usually did, though he'd gotten better at not being so jumpy about them over the last year or so. Just because he was used to owls didn't mean that he was used to bats, even if they were much more adorable.

Settled for the night, her hair was down, face clear of makeup, and curls messily tucked behind her ears. Clad in yoga pants and a comfortable sweatshirt, she was trying to relax as much as she possibly could-- which was easier said than done. Lately, the world was relentless. If Mai were more religious, she would've assumed that this was one long, horrible test.

She didn't bother to write a response. It would be quicker to apparate.

"I'm going to Adon's." She explained, "I'll be back after work." She always kept a proper change of clothes in her office. She could leave Adon's in the morning, go to her office, change. She'll manage. Coffee existed, and naps were definitely a thing. Mai grabbed her wand and her purse, stepped outside and snap.

She was in the lobby of Hiraeth Gardens. Mai wasted no time making her way up to 7B.

When Dree answered the door, she enveloped him in a hug and pecked him on the cheek.  "How are you doing?" She asked, brows furrowed together with concern. Dree and Kiv were care-ers, and she worried that they weren't taking care of themselves during all of this.

Dree gave a grim-lipped, rueful laugh.  Of course she would ask him that. He had been about to ask the same of her.  They were all too Eleor to function.

He needed that moment of strength. It felt cheap--drawing that comfort from her when she'd probably be needing it herself in a few short moments. But she didn't know, right now. Which meant, for now, she could hold her own.

"Better," he said, finally pulling away and drawing in a calming breath.  He puffed it out in a sigh.  "I'm glad you're here."

He closed the door behind them, latching a couple of locks and fumbling with others before abandoning the effort. The flat seemed wholly unchanged. There was a bit of residual mess--Alberic and Healer Hughes and Dree and Hestia all bustling about, leaving dishes and cloaks about that Adon would never have tolerated.  He motioned to the sofa, tossing a pillow and blanket, where presumably Hestia had slept at some point, to a loveseat to make room for the both of them.  "Here," he said, his expression drawn into a grimace. "Why don't you sit..."

If she wasn't aware of the gravity of the situation, she would by now. 

Better, but he wasn't well. That much was clear.

As Dree fumbled with the locks, she took a quick glance at the room. Messy-- more than in the 'lived in but still clean' way that Adon lived. It didn't feel right, and she wanted to set it to rights. The flat was kept up in the most minimal of ways, as if people hadn't had the time or even the thought to maintain Adon's standards. And his bat was gone.

Merde, she had left the poor creature alone with Kohaku. As soon as she got service, her phone would likely blow up with horrified text messages and accusations of flying rodent infestations. He was due for some sort of mild adventure anyway. His life was relatively unexciting.

As Dreogan motioned for her to sit down, something else dawned on her. It felt empty here. Wrong. She didn't want to sit down. Sitting down is what she told students to do before delivering them with horrible news. Adon hadn't greeted her yet. Instead, she rested her hand on the armrest, leaning slightly against it.

"How bad is it, Dree?" Mai asked, voice steady. Hestia had been vague, mentioning an altercation. She hadn't said how bad it was, just that it wasn't a good time for her to stop by. Mai figured that the wishes of the family were more important than making sure a brand new girlfriend was in the loop. The thought brought a bitter, hot feeling in the pit of her stomach, an anger quickly stifled.

"Well," Dree began, regarding her cautiously.  She was poised; taut, like a spring. Or like she was bracing herself for a blow. Well, alright. But he was unsure of where to go from here. He knew: there was no good way to do this. The Eleor family had had their share of bad news close to home. To a degree, it didn't matter how quiet the tone, how concise the preamble: it was gutting however you cut it.

"It's--" he began. 'The worst,' he could almost hear Adon's oft-bemoaned phrase of self-pity. And it was. This was the single worst thing Dree could imagine to his little brother. Dreogan had always taken a great deal of comfort in religion.  Wizarding folk had the advantage of knowing irrefutablythere was life after death, and religious observers had the added measure of knowing that life beyond the veil had meaning. A life with family. A life better than this one.

But not if you had no soul. They could lose Adon, possibly forever if this didn't--

"I'm sorry," Dreogan swallowed, aware he'd fallen into silence. His eyes, his nose stung. "Maiko, I won't lie to you. it's very bad." He heaved a sigh. Even if she did not, he settled himself on the couch, hands dropped limply at his sides. He didn't know what Maiko knew--judging from his mother's treatment of him, keeping him in the dark, probably not much. "He's, we're fairly certain, suffered a Dementor's kiss." He searched her face, urging on to ebb any panic he might see, "The healer said it wasn't complete, but that said, the prognosis is..." Dree halted. He didn't even know what he wanted to hear himself. It was too soon to despair; Adon deserved their support and needed it desperately. But these emotional blows needed to be anticipated and prepared for. "The healer left notes; he seemed very candid that while recovery is not impossible, it's not to be expected."

Feeling the need to add in something of hope he said, "He also said that family and loved ones are an important part of the recovery process. Surrounding Adon with familiar things is the best path." His smile was strained. "So you can see why I am glad you could come."

It seemed like he took forever to get to the point.

Her neatly manicured nails dug into her palms, and she was quiet for a moment. Two moments. Too long. Mai had to say something, anything. Anything better than, "Ah, the dementor got jealous of me, then? Wanted in on the action?" Here she was, staring grief, outrage, and shock in the eye and trying not to flinch.

A dementor's kiss. Mai had known some people who were affected; during the second wizarding war, dementors were everywhere. She knew some people who had been affected by the kiss, they were likely to live out the rest of their lives at St. Mungo's. Souls weren't exactly easy to take back. If she had known better, she wouldn't have suggested Flynn-- Jason Marren would have been a better fit.

Not that Mai didn't trust Flynn, but this was... Knowing how serious the situation was made it different, somehow. It was harder to stifle her anger at not being told earlier. Why had Hestia kept her so in the dark about this? How long had Dree and Akiva known? No. That didn't matter. Not now, it wouldn't be productive. It was better to focus on how they could move forward. She was going to going to do all the research she could on this, even if it the results wouldn't be something she wanted to hear.

Fuck, she still hadn't said anything. The look Mai gave Dree was nearly apologetic. She'd left him hanging.

Mai exhaled slowly, trying to blink away the stinging in her eyes. Breathe. "That is the worst," She conceded, trying hard to grasp onto the hope, the chance that Adon would recover. It wouldn't be expected, but it was better than giving up. "I'm glad you told me." Well, not glad, but... "I appreciate it. I do. It--"  She glanced up at the loft, though she didn't get a good view of anything from this angle. It didn't feel like he was here, even if he was likely tucked into his bed. Mai couldn't explain the feeling, and she didn't want to. And it wouldn't be helpful to talk about it, either. No matter how completely shitty she felt about all of this, she was sure that Dree felt worse.

Adon was his brother. They loved each other with what she could only describe as Eleor fierceness.

Her expression softened as she made eye contact with Dree.

"What do you need? What can I do to help?" Had he eaten? Had he and Akiva been taking care of themselves? Were they sleeping well?

She was already forging ahead with a "will-do" mentality that was stressing him out. Dree's hand went to his temple and forehead, where he rubbed viciously a moment.  "Maiko, stop." He sighed, shook his head.

"I'm sorry." Another sigh as his tone softened. "I am sorry. It's just--you need to process this, too. Take some time. And care." He glanced furtively at her, his expression cautious. "You're part of it. I know the two of you have been close for a while." They had only been an item a matter of--well, Dree wasn't exactly clear about that. He'd found out only a few days ago, at least. But the two of them had been connected deeply ever since Adon had showed up at Maiko's door on his behalf.

He fidgeted with a hangnail a moment, before adding, "I need you, me, Akiva, ima--everyone to not get so caught up in doing right now." That's what got his mother into that whole mess. Running ragged, trying to handle it, and get Adon to respond when he simply couldn't. They could be--be here, in the house, for Adon, for each other--but they couldn't do anything.

And, in a way, Dreogan didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to be. To sit in silence.

Quietly, he added, "I haven't told Akiva everything yet. I want to do it in person. I just found out about the Kiss myself." He glanced at Hughes' report, sitting there on the coffee table. The details were still the same: Adon was unresponsive, unconscious. Dreogan and Akiva had taken it to mean some sort of coma. "I will tell her when I get home." He wasn't staying the entire night here. Just long enough to make sure Maiko would be okay. He didn't want Akiva to be alone when she found out, either.

The thought of his mother, now, at home by herself, in the state she was in...  Dreogan again began to rub at his forehead.

Something she said clearly agitated him, though her first response was very genuine hurt. Mai took in a shaky breath, the type that precipitated strong emotion. Instead of interrupting Dree, she fell into her default-- listening. It was easier to listen sometimes, than it was to express and explain. Process. She wanted to process this with a bottle of wine to make it easier to pretend this wasn't real.

The fact that Akiva didn't know yet brought alarm to Mai's face. She sat down next to Dree on the couch, stunned. "You have to tell her, she needs to know!" she exclaimed, even though Dree had just said that he would tell her when he got home. When did he find out it was this bad, then? It must have been recent. "I-- ugh, never mind. No. Forget I said that. You'll tell her. I know. I'm just--" Her voice grew thick with emotion, and she stopped abruptly. Partially to compose herself, partially so that she could figure out what it was she wanted to say.

Mai was overwhelmed. So overwhelmed. Between the poisonings, the Leaky Cauldron exploding, the kidnappings, and now this, she didn't think she had room to handle anything else. There was too much heartbreak and pain everywhere, so many lives lost. It reminded her too much of the war, though that was something Mai absolutely would not discuss. Sometimes feigning ease felt like the best route to take-- not only for those around her, but for herself. She didn't even know what the alternative was anymore. She didn't know if she knew how to let someone take care of her, and she wasn't sure she wanted that.

She thought about Dree's comment-- they were close. Mai couldn't deny it, nor did she want to. "It feels like I've known him for longer than I have." Mai admitted, voice breaking at the last syllable. Fuck this 'feelings' bullshit. It was totally unfun and unfair. Adon was such a vibrant, ridiculous, lively person with a strong personality. Losing his soul was the worst situation for him, it would be better if he were dead. That terrible thought immediately came with a stifling guilt.

"He means too much for this to happen. Fuck." She looked at her hands, palms bearing cresent-shaped indents from her nails.