Villains, Part 3
Description: Seth campaigns for the benefits of beds, and Rodney temporarily overcomes some of his issues with the help of the rest of his issues.
Word Count: ~ 3,150
Warnings: PTSD and nightmares, bad language
Other: Canon.
Part 1 | Part 2
Seth didn't know how long he'd been humming for before he noticed he was doing it. Force of habit for when he cooked, he guessed. Rodney hadn't complained though - because he'd fallen asleep, apparently.
Seth wasn't surprised; even he was kind of tired from the disrupted nights of sleep on the sofas, but at least when Seth slept he slept pretty well. Rodney only slept properly when he was so exhausted his brain completely shut down, and even then it didn't last long before the nightmares returned. He looked peaceful enough for now, where he was sat up on a nearby kitchen counter, slumped in the corner with his feet dangling. And within a few feet and visual range of Seth, which appeared to be a safe zone Rodney couldn't leave whilst conscious. He got jumpy enough while Seth took even a five minute shower, but Rodney would probably never ask to come into the bathroom with him. Rodney hadn't explicitly asked Seth to do so, but Seth pretty much guarded the bathroom door whenever Rodney was in there, and still he'd call out periodically and check Seth was still there.
He looked awful too - or near as awful as it was possible for Rodney Jalowitz to look. Seth still had yet to get the truth out of him about what happened to him in jail, but that wouldn't - couldn't - stop Seth imagining. Horrible evil guards for certain, but maybe other prisoners too? Maybe there'd been a crackdown on all the shady people Rodney had let into Simfield after Rodney lost the election and they'd blamed him for their incarceration. Or maybe it was because Rodney was so pretty for a guy; you heard things about jails like that. But the reason didn't really matter; they'd done this to Rodney, so they were going to pay. Seth did wish he knew if any of the culprits were women because, well, it was different to kick the shit out of a woman, though any time he saw Rodney - proud Rodney Jalowitz - crying, he found himself thinking that maybe it didn't matter. Not if they would do this to Rodney. Poor Rodney was harmless. It was like kicking a kitten.
Maybe it felt worse for the fact that Seth had been Rodney's bodyguard, like a personal failing that this had been allowed to happen. But that didn't explain the anger and desire for vengeance. Rodney was his, his best friend. He was going to hurt them. As for Rodney... all he could do was help him feel safe and be happier, and fill him up with delicious food.
Seth struggled for a few moments on whether to wake Rodney to eat, since he was sleeping peacefully enough for now, but Rodney's current position looked uncomfortable enough that it was probably best to wake him anyway.
"Rodney?" he asked gently, tentatively shaking his knee. "Omelette's ready."
Rodney nearly always jumped awake, like he was prepared to escape whatever had woken him, which hurt to see. Or to see and not be allowed to hug. "Hn?"
"Food?"
Rodney pushed himself upright, stretched and yawned. "So tired."
"I know."
Rodney didn't finish shifting and stretching once he had stood and then sat at the table though.
"You okay?"
"Sore muscles. Cramps."
"From sleeping on the sofas?"
"Probably," Rodney yawned again and had to prop his head up on one hand while he ate.
Seth eyed him cautiously, thinking as he started eating his own omelette. He needed to be careful about this. "You know, there is an alternative."
"Hm?" Rodney appeared to be too tired to be suspicious, which was really saying something.
"There are very comfortable beds upstairs."
There was unexpected hurt in Rodney's eyes at that. "Well, if you want, but I... When I'm alone...-"
"Oh! No, no, I mean we would still share a room, but-"
"You couldn't fit two of those beds in either of our rooms. Or not without having to climb over them all the time." Rodney was kind of adorable when puzzled, tired and ruffled like he was.
"No, I meant we could share a bed."
Rodney flinched back at that, as Seth had suspected he might. "No!"
"Why not?"
"We can't! We're both...!"
"What?"
Rodney scowled and blushed. "Sharing a double bed is for married couples and sex. I'm not-!"
"Why is it? There's not a law on it! I mean, come on, you must have had to share a bed with somebody platonically before. Like on holiday and with your sister, or something."
Rodney frowned. "No..."
"Really?" Seth forgot sometimes that Rodney's family had been quite a bit better off than his own. Rodney probably got his own room on holidays, nevermind his own bed. "Well I did. My sister when we were young, and then Brendan later..." There had to be other examples. Sleepovers? Unlikely Rodney had them. "What about when you were a kid, didn't you ever share your parents' or sister's bed when you were scared?"
"When I was a toddler maybe, but once I'd started school I wasn't allowed."
"Once you'd started school? What, when you were like five?!"
Rodney pulled a face and half-shrugged.
"So what did five-year-old Rodney do when he had a nightmare?"
Rodney silently bit at the inside of his mouth, gazing at the floor.
"It was your dad, wasn't it? No offence man, but seriously: fuck your father."
"I wasn't always left alone. Sometimes they heard me..."
"And came to comfort the terrified little kid? Was it ever your father?"
"No. He thought it was indulgent and encouraged weakness."
Seth wanted to introduce Mr Jalowitz's head to a brick wall. Repeatedly. "Your father has so much to answer for."
Rodney shrugged again.
"Anyway, my point is that there's nothing wrong or weird with sharing a bed. People used to do it all the time in the past, to save heat and because they couldn't afford to have separate beds."
Rodney looked severely sceptical.
"And it's practical. The sofas are uncomfortable: the beds are comfortable. The sofas are small and you fall off them sometimes: the beds are much bigger. You worry about people coming in: there's far fewer entrances to the bedrooms than to the lounge. And if we share a bed it'll be way easier for either of us to just reach over and wake the other without having to get up and cross the room, so it'll be easier to get back to sleep and stuff too. It makes sense, Rodney."
"Last time we checked you still can't enter my bedroom."
Another fact that pained Seth. "No, but you've always been able to enter mine."
"You want me to share your bed?!" Rodney looked both afraid and repulsed.
Seth was bordering very close on offended. "I don't know what you think my bed is like, but I'll have you know I keep it clean and tidy."
"It's not about your bed," he claimed though Seth suspected a little bit of it was, "you know what I mean."
Seth wasn't sure that he did. If it wasn't the physical bed itself...
"All the people who have shared your bed."
"Well no-one's ever shared that one."
Rodney rolled his eyes huffily. "Ever. You sleep with like everyone."
"And by sleep right now we mean sex, yes?"
"Yes!"
"Well, I never had sex with members of my family, so I think you'll find that it's not a necessary thing for sharing a bed with me. And I don't have sex with everyone."
But Seth saw the trembly signs of Rodney starting to have a panic attack. "I can't- I can't share another man's bed." He looked a bit like he might be sick too.
"This... This isn't linked to what happened before you died, is it?" The thought Seth had earlier about the jail reoccurred to him with growing fear. Seth didn't want to trigger bad memories like that...
Rodney shook his head irritably. "No, I just- I'm not gay, okay?!"
"I know you're not." Seth suspected a possible level of bisexuality, but he'd seen Rodney in relation to long-legged women in short skirts enough to know there was something there at least.
"I'm a grown man, I don't need..." he trailed off, teeth clenched, eyes watering.
Except that he kind of did need. If he didn't need they'd each be sleeping alone in their own beds. "Rodney, there would be nothing wrong or shameful about somebody suffering with PTSD needing to share a bed. Please stop just thinking what your dad did. Again, no offence, but your dad was an insecure dick and you don't need his problems on top of your own."
"I don't want to talk about this. I'm having a shower," he said, getting up and leaving about a fifth of his omelette.
Seth sighed quietly. "Alright. I'll be around if you need me, but please just think about it?"
~~~~~~~~~~~
Rodney didn't know what it was that woke him up. Everything was mostly dark in the lounge, but the blinds were open on the glass doors that led outside leaving the floor bathed in moonlight - had they left it like that? Surely they wouldn't. Seth - Seth wasn't on his sofa. The blanket was there, but he wasn't. It was silent.
He swallowed. "Seth?" Maybe he was in the toilet. But there was absolute silence, and cold.
Something disturbed the light in the room, but by the time Rodney turned his head to look through the door it was gone. Were those doors locked? Were those doors locked?! "Seth?!" he was voice was more of a squeak than anything. He should move to the doors, he should lock the doors because he knew there was something out there, but if he moved closer it would get him for sure. Where was Seth?!
He tried to move backwards down the sofa, and that was when he saw it - the shadow of a figure, a human figure, and he knew it wasn't Seth. "Seth! Seth!" He wasn't- No, he was, he was definitely crying. "SETH! SETH!"
And then the door was slid open, and he saw it - those big black eyes, the smile, and the knife glinting in the moonlight.
Rodney screamed loud enough for the entire Afterlife to hear.
And sprung awake on the sofa, still half-screaming. The blinds were drawn across, but open enough to see out into the night. Anything could be out there, anyone.
"Rodney, are you okay?"
Seth was here this time - Rodney quickly looked to check that yes, that was Seth. Or somebody who somehow looked exactly like him, and who had perhaps slept in the same room with Rodney without hurting him, so probably Seth. He quickly looked back to the door. "Is the door locked?"
"Yes, I locked it before we went to sleep, remember? I checked twice."
"That was then, is it locked now?!"
Apparent-Seth's response was far too slow and confused. "Who could have unlocked it?"
"Seth!"
Rodney watched apparent-Seth's approach to the door with dread - if he got Seth, what would Rodney do then?! Seth would say call Mzyra, but what if she wouldn't come, or she was in league with him?!
"It's still locked, Rodney," Seth confirmed.
Rodney's mind immediately catapulted to the alternative - the other door, what if Hideki was already in the house? The less suspected one, the perfect place to strike while Seth was preoccupied with the glass door. "What about the other door?!"
"Well that one can't be locked-"
"Exactly!"
"But somebody would have to come through a different locked door to get to it..."
"How do we know they're locked?!"
Seth frowned at him for a couple of agonisingly slow seconds, and then headed towards the door to the hallway.
"Be careful!" He couldn't waste Seth, he was all he had.
Rodney watched him down the hallway to the front door.
"Locked!" Seth called back.
But what if Hideki had unlocked the glass doors while they were distracted?! No, this was all stupid; the man had robots, six-foot tall automatons; what the hell would he care if a door was locked?! Oh god, he was going to get Rodney. He'd kill Seth and get Rodney and nobody would be able to stop him-
"Rodney?" Seth crouched in front of him. "Rodney, you need to calm down."
"I can't calm down, he's here, or he'll be here-"
"The doors are locked. He can't get in."
"He has robots, he'll break in-"
"Rodney, I will protect you."
"He'll kill you! Again!" No, Rodney couldn't go through that again...
"Exactly! Rodney, I'm dead; we're both dead. He can't kill me again."
Rodney's mouth and brain stopped. He'd forgotten about that. Seth couldn't go anywhere permanently like that. But Hideki could incapacitate him. If he caught Seth unawares... Seth didn't understand the dangers... "We can't sleep here. There's too many ways in. He's out there, I know he is."
"Okay," Seth said with the kind of patience that meant he definitely didn't understand the actual danger and was just humouring him. "Where do you want to sleep?"
Rodney calculated. "The bathroom." The bathroom had the fewest and smallest entrances. He could fortify the shower cubicle even, had access to running water and a toilet...
Seth looked strained. "There's barely space for one of us to lie down."
"I can sleep in the shower. We can lock the door."
"Rodney, you know the shower drips, right? Even if it was just once a minute that's going to be a problem, and you'll be so uncomfortable...!"
"Well it's better than the alternative!" Dying had been better than the alternative.
"Rodney, is the guy you're afraid of the same one who killed me? Who I think is the same one who messed with my brain?"
Rodney didn't like to give too many details, but maybe it would help Seth understand. "Yes..."
"Rodney, he's not out there; he's not dead yet."
"You don't know that!"
"Alright then, answer me this: this guy, and his robots, who can break through innumerable doors and do pretty much anything; how do you imagine he died?"
Rodney couldn't imagine. Except... "He killed himself, to spite me."
"But if he had wanted to hurt you like this, why would he have killed you in the first place?"
"He didn't kill me." Not exactly. He hadn't wanted him dead; perhaps killing himself to join Rodney was the best answer.
Seth was frowning slightly, recalculating. "But... does he even believe in the Afterlife to make it a worthwhile risk? Nobody knew it would be like this."
"He knows. He just knows things. If anyone knows, he does."
Seth was silent a few more seconds, and stood up to shake out his legs from the crouching. Rodney eyed the glass door warily. "Alright. Bathroom is worst case scenario, but what about the bedrooms? If anything, they're better because their locking system works by trust in the person entering, not just the state of the door! Even if the door was wide open, he couldn't come in! Neither of us would ever trust him. Not to mention there's comfortable furniture to sleep on and room to manoeuvre if there was a fight or something."
"But what if we're sieged? The bathroom has water and a toilet!"
"If we're sieged by a psychopath we'll call Mzyra."
"What if she's in on it?!"
"Why would Mzyra be in on it?!"
"I don't know! I don't trust anybody but me, and maybe you."
Seth sighed at him sadly, from his much safer world than the one Rodney lived in. "Can we please just try the bedrooms? I don't want you sleeping hunched up in a ball in the shower being dripped on. If we need to get to the bathroom, I will defend your path there, and it's only next door."
The bedrooms were at least safer than where they were currently. "Okay, let's go - quickly."
Rodney cautiously led the way upstairs, and only realised in the hallway that Seth had grabbed their pillows and blankets. "What are you going to do if we get attacked when you're laden down with those?"
"Um, smother him unconscious?"
That... could work. But not if he had a knife. "He'll stab you through them!"
"Not if we get in my bedroom, come on."
Rodney opened the door and checked for sign of intrusion. Nothing obvious. "Check under the bed and in the wardrobe. And the window."
Seth shut the door, threw the spare bedding down on the bed and did so quicker than anything else he'd done that night, thankfully. "All clear. If things get bad I could clear a space for you to hide in the wardrobe, if you want."
"Can it be held shut from the inside?"
"Probably?"
"Okay. Just in case. And do you have any weapons?"
"Weapons?" Seth looked thoughtful, and then rummaged in the wardrobe before pulling something out. "Baseball bat?"
Maybe not ideal, but it gave some extra reach, and in Seth's hands it could probably smash someone's head in... "Keep it to hand."
"Alright. I could put something in front of the door too, if you want."
Rodney looked around. There was a big, comfortable chair in one corner. "That? Yeah."
After about fifteen minutes the room was rearranged and as secure as anything was likely to be in this house against Hideki Tang. "Luckily I topped up my supply of snacks and drinks yesterday after we hung out in here the other day. So long as you're happy with sodas, crisps and sweets. And some fruit, but not as much."
"What kind of soda?"
"I got the kind you like too, never you fear."
That was not a good thing to ask of Rodney Jalowitz. "There's not a way to barricade the window, is there?"
"No, but I have the baseball bat, and there's the space for you in the wardrobe if needs be."
"Right." He was safe as he was going to be. And he was tired - he yawned as he had the thought.
"You can go to bed if you want. It is 3:45am and all."
Rodney looked at the bed. He shouldn't. He should sleep on the floor or something. Or Seth should.
Seth could read his expressions. "Would it help if we used separate bedding? You have your blankets, I have mine... The baseball bat can sleep between us..."
"You need it by your right hand so you can swing properly." But beyond that, Rodney was too tired to argue. And it was a little different with the bedding; rather than being in Seth's bed, he could just be on Seth's bed... That was better somehow, but he was too tired to puzzle out why. He moved to the right side of the bed, closer to the blocked door and away from the window, lay down and pulled his blanket over himself.
"You can have the covers too if you're cold," Seth offered, getting into the other side of the bed.
Rodney was too busy falling asleep.
Word Count: ~ 3,150
Warnings: PTSD and nightmares, bad language
Other: Canon.
Part 1 | Part 2
Seth didn't know how long he'd been humming for before he noticed he was doing it. Force of habit for when he cooked, he guessed. Rodney hadn't complained though - because he'd fallen asleep, apparently.
Seth wasn't surprised; even he was kind of tired from the disrupted nights of sleep on the sofas, but at least when Seth slept he slept pretty well. Rodney only slept properly when he was so exhausted his brain completely shut down, and even then it didn't last long before the nightmares returned. He looked peaceful enough for now, where he was sat up on a nearby kitchen counter, slumped in the corner with his feet dangling. And within a few feet and visual range of Seth, which appeared to be a safe zone Rodney couldn't leave whilst conscious. He got jumpy enough while Seth took even a five minute shower, but Rodney would probably never ask to come into the bathroom with him. Rodney hadn't explicitly asked Seth to do so, but Seth pretty much guarded the bathroom door whenever Rodney was in there, and still he'd call out periodically and check Seth was still there.
He looked awful too - or near as awful as it was possible for Rodney Jalowitz to look. Seth still had yet to get the truth out of him about what happened to him in jail, but that wouldn't - couldn't - stop Seth imagining. Horrible evil guards for certain, but maybe other prisoners too? Maybe there'd been a crackdown on all the shady people Rodney had let into Simfield after Rodney lost the election and they'd blamed him for their incarceration. Or maybe it was because Rodney was so pretty for a guy; you heard things about jails like that. But the reason didn't really matter; they'd done this to Rodney, so they were going to pay. Seth did wish he knew if any of the culprits were women because, well, it was different to kick the shit out of a woman, though any time he saw Rodney - proud Rodney Jalowitz - crying, he found himself thinking that maybe it didn't matter. Not if they would do this to Rodney. Poor Rodney was harmless. It was like kicking a kitten.
Maybe it felt worse for the fact that Seth had been Rodney's bodyguard, like a personal failing that this had been allowed to happen. But that didn't explain the anger and desire for vengeance. Rodney was his, his best friend. He was going to hurt them. As for Rodney... all he could do was help him feel safe and be happier, and fill him up with delicious food.
Seth struggled for a few moments on whether to wake Rodney to eat, since he was sleeping peacefully enough for now, but Rodney's current position looked uncomfortable enough that it was probably best to wake him anyway.
"Rodney?" he asked gently, tentatively shaking his knee. "Omelette's ready."
Rodney nearly always jumped awake, like he was prepared to escape whatever had woken him, which hurt to see. Or to see and not be allowed to hug. "Hn?"
"Food?"
Rodney pushed himself upright, stretched and yawned. "So tired."
"I know."
Rodney didn't finish shifting and stretching once he had stood and then sat at the table though.
"You okay?"
"Sore muscles. Cramps."
"From sleeping on the sofas?"
"Probably," Rodney yawned again and had to prop his head up on one hand while he ate.
Seth eyed him cautiously, thinking as he started eating his own omelette. He needed to be careful about this. "You know, there is an alternative."
"Hm?" Rodney appeared to be too tired to be suspicious, which was really saying something.
"There are very comfortable beds upstairs."
There was unexpected hurt in Rodney's eyes at that. "Well, if you want, but I... When I'm alone...-"
"Oh! No, no, I mean we would still share a room, but-"
"You couldn't fit two of those beds in either of our rooms. Or not without having to climb over them all the time." Rodney was kind of adorable when puzzled, tired and ruffled like he was.
"No, I meant we could share a bed."
Rodney flinched back at that, as Seth had suspected he might. "No!"
"Why not?"
"We can't! We're both...!"
"What?"
Rodney scowled and blushed. "Sharing a double bed is for married couples and sex. I'm not-!"
"Why is it? There's not a law on it! I mean, come on, you must have had to share a bed with somebody platonically before. Like on holiday and with your sister, or something."
Rodney frowned. "No..."
"Really?" Seth forgot sometimes that Rodney's family had been quite a bit better off than his own. Rodney probably got his own room on holidays, nevermind his own bed. "Well I did. My sister when we were young, and then Brendan later..." There had to be other examples. Sleepovers? Unlikely Rodney had them. "What about when you were a kid, didn't you ever share your parents' or sister's bed when you were scared?"
"When I was a toddler maybe, but once I'd started school I wasn't allowed."
"Once you'd started school? What, when you were like five?!"
Rodney pulled a face and half-shrugged.
"So what did five-year-old Rodney do when he had a nightmare?"
Rodney silently bit at the inside of his mouth, gazing at the floor.
"It was your dad, wasn't it? No offence man, but seriously: fuck your father."
"I wasn't always left alone. Sometimes they heard me..."
"And came to comfort the terrified little kid? Was it ever your father?"
"No. He thought it was indulgent and encouraged weakness."
Seth wanted to introduce Mr Jalowitz's head to a brick wall. Repeatedly. "Your father has so much to answer for."
Rodney shrugged again.
"Anyway, my point is that there's nothing wrong or weird with sharing a bed. People used to do it all the time in the past, to save heat and because they couldn't afford to have separate beds."
Rodney looked severely sceptical.
"And it's practical. The sofas are uncomfortable: the beds are comfortable. The sofas are small and you fall off them sometimes: the beds are much bigger. You worry about people coming in: there's far fewer entrances to the bedrooms than to the lounge. And if we share a bed it'll be way easier for either of us to just reach over and wake the other without having to get up and cross the room, so it'll be easier to get back to sleep and stuff too. It makes sense, Rodney."
"Last time we checked you still can't enter my bedroom."
Another fact that pained Seth. "No, but you've always been able to enter mine."
"You want me to share your bed?!" Rodney looked both afraid and repulsed.
Seth was bordering very close on offended. "I don't know what you think my bed is like, but I'll have you know I keep it clean and tidy."
"It's not about your bed," he claimed though Seth suspected a little bit of it was, "you know what I mean."
Seth wasn't sure that he did. If it wasn't the physical bed itself...
"All the people who have shared your bed."
"Well no-one's ever shared that one."
Rodney rolled his eyes huffily. "Ever. You sleep with like everyone."
"And by sleep right now we mean sex, yes?"
"Yes!"
"Well, I never had sex with members of my family, so I think you'll find that it's not a necessary thing for sharing a bed with me. And I don't have sex with everyone."
But Seth saw the trembly signs of Rodney starting to have a panic attack. "I can't- I can't share another man's bed." He looked a bit like he might be sick too.
"This... This isn't linked to what happened before you died, is it?" The thought Seth had earlier about the jail reoccurred to him with growing fear. Seth didn't want to trigger bad memories like that...
Rodney shook his head irritably. "No, I just- I'm not gay, okay?!"
"I know you're not." Seth suspected a possible level of bisexuality, but he'd seen Rodney in relation to long-legged women in short skirts enough to know there was something there at least.
"I'm a grown man, I don't need..." he trailed off, teeth clenched, eyes watering.
Except that he kind of did need. If he didn't need they'd each be sleeping alone in their own beds. "Rodney, there would be nothing wrong or shameful about somebody suffering with PTSD needing to share a bed. Please stop just thinking what your dad did. Again, no offence, but your dad was an insecure dick and you don't need his problems on top of your own."
"I don't want to talk about this. I'm having a shower," he said, getting up and leaving about a fifth of his omelette.
Seth sighed quietly. "Alright. I'll be around if you need me, but please just think about it?"
~~~~~~~~~~~
Rodney didn't know what it was that woke him up. Everything was mostly dark in the lounge, but the blinds were open on the glass doors that led outside leaving the floor bathed in moonlight - had they left it like that? Surely they wouldn't. Seth - Seth wasn't on his sofa. The blanket was there, but he wasn't. It was silent.
He swallowed. "Seth?" Maybe he was in the toilet. But there was absolute silence, and cold.
Something disturbed the light in the room, but by the time Rodney turned his head to look through the door it was gone. Were those doors locked? Were those doors locked?! "Seth?!" he was voice was more of a squeak than anything. He should move to the doors, he should lock the doors because he knew there was something out there, but if he moved closer it would get him for sure. Where was Seth?!
He tried to move backwards down the sofa, and that was when he saw it - the shadow of a figure, a human figure, and he knew it wasn't Seth. "Seth! Seth!" He wasn't- No, he was, he was definitely crying. "SETH! SETH!"
And then the door was slid open, and he saw it - those big black eyes, the smile, and the knife glinting in the moonlight.
Rodney screamed loud enough for the entire Afterlife to hear.
And sprung awake on the sofa, still half-screaming. The blinds were drawn across, but open enough to see out into the night. Anything could be out there, anyone.
"Rodney, are you okay?"
Seth was here this time - Rodney quickly looked to check that yes, that was Seth. Or somebody who somehow looked exactly like him, and who had perhaps slept in the same room with Rodney without hurting him, so probably Seth. He quickly looked back to the door. "Is the door locked?"
"Yes, I locked it before we went to sleep, remember? I checked twice."
"That was then, is it locked now?!"
Apparent-Seth's response was far too slow and confused. "Who could have unlocked it?"
"Seth!"
Rodney watched apparent-Seth's approach to the door with dread - if he got Seth, what would Rodney do then?! Seth would say call Mzyra, but what if she wouldn't come, or she was in league with him?!
"It's still locked, Rodney," Seth confirmed.
Rodney's mind immediately catapulted to the alternative - the other door, what if Hideki was already in the house? The less suspected one, the perfect place to strike while Seth was preoccupied with the glass door. "What about the other door?!"
"Well that one can't be locked-"
"Exactly!"
"But somebody would have to come through a different locked door to get to it..."
"How do we know they're locked?!"
Seth frowned at him for a couple of agonisingly slow seconds, and then headed towards the door to the hallway.
"Be careful!" He couldn't waste Seth, he was all he had.
Rodney watched him down the hallway to the front door.
"Locked!" Seth called back.
But what if Hideki had unlocked the glass doors while they were distracted?! No, this was all stupid; the man had robots, six-foot tall automatons; what the hell would he care if a door was locked?! Oh god, he was going to get Rodney. He'd kill Seth and get Rodney and nobody would be able to stop him-
"Rodney?" Seth crouched in front of him. "Rodney, you need to calm down."
"I can't calm down, he's here, or he'll be here-"
"The doors are locked. He can't get in."
"He has robots, he'll break in-"
"Rodney, I will protect you."
"He'll kill you! Again!" No, Rodney couldn't go through that again...
"Exactly! Rodney, I'm dead; we're both dead. He can't kill me again."
Rodney's mouth and brain stopped. He'd forgotten about that. Seth couldn't go anywhere permanently like that. But Hideki could incapacitate him. If he caught Seth unawares... Seth didn't understand the dangers... "We can't sleep here. There's too many ways in. He's out there, I know he is."
"Okay," Seth said with the kind of patience that meant he definitely didn't understand the actual danger and was just humouring him. "Where do you want to sleep?"
Rodney calculated. "The bathroom." The bathroom had the fewest and smallest entrances. He could fortify the shower cubicle even, had access to running water and a toilet...
Seth looked strained. "There's barely space for one of us to lie down."
"I can sleep in the shower. We can lock the door."
"Rodney, you know the shower drips, right? Even if it was just once a minute that's going to be a problem, and you'll be so uncomfortable...!"
"Well it's better than the alternative!" Dying had been better than the alternative.
"Rodney, is the guy you're afraid of the same one who killed me? Who I think is the same one who messed with my brain?"
Rodney didn't like to give too many details, but maybe it would help Seth understand. "Yes..."
"Rodney, he's not out there; he's not dead yet."
"You don't know that!"
"Alright then, answer me this: this guy, and his robots, who can break through innumerable doors and do pretty much anything; how do you imagine he died?"
Rodney couldn't imagine. Except... "He killed himself, to spite me."
"But if he had wanted to hurt you like this, why would he have killed you in the first place?"
"He didn't kill me." Not exactly. He hadn't wanted him dead; perhaps killing himself to join Rodney was the best answer.
Seth was frowning slightly, recalculating. "But... does he even believe in the Afterlife to make it a worthwhile risk? Nobody knew it would be like this."
"He knows. He just knows things. If anyone knows, he does."
Seth was silent a few more seconds, and stood up to shake out his legs from the crouching. Rodney eyed the glass door warily. "Alright. Bathroom is worst case scenario, but what about the bedrooms? If anything, they're better because their locking system works by trust in the person entering, not just the state of the door! Even if the door was wide open, he couldn't come in! Neither of us would ever trust him. Not to mention there's comfortable furniture to sleep on and room to manoeuvre if there was a fight or something."
"But what if we're sieged? The bathroom has water and a toilet!"
"If we're sieged by a psychopath we'll call Mzyra."
"What if she's in on it?!"
"Why would Mzyra be in on it?!"
"I don't know! I don't trust anybody but me, and maybe you."
Seth sighed at him sadly, from his much safer world than the one Rodney lived in. "Can we please just try the bedrooms? I don't want you sleeping hunched up in a ball in the shower being dripped on. If we need to get to the bathroom, I will defend your path there, and it's only next door."
The bedrooms were at least safer than where they were currently. "Okay, let's go - quickly."
Rodney cautiously led the way upstairs, and only realised in the hallway that Seth had grabbed their pillows and blankets. "What are you going to do if we get attacked when you're laden down with those?"
"Um, smother him unconscious?"
That... could work. But not if he had a knife. "He'll stab you through them!"
"Not if we get in my bedroom, come on."
Rodney opened the door and checked for sign of intrusion. Nothing obvious. "Check under the bed and in the wardrobe. And the window."
Seth shut the door, threw the spare bedding down on the bed and did so quicker than anything else he'd done that night, thankfully. "All clear. If things get bad I could clear a space for you to hide in the wardrobe, if you want."
"Can it be held shut from the inside?"
"Probably?"
"Okay. Just in case. And do you have any weapons?"
"Weapons?" Seth looked thoughtful, and then rummaged in the wardrobe before pulling something out. "Baseball bat?"
Maybe not ideal, but it gave some extra reach, and in Seth's hands it could probably smash someone's head in... "Keep it to hand."
"Alright. I could put something in front of the door too, if you want."
Rodney looked around. There was a big, comfortable chair in one corner. "That? Yeah."
After about fifteen minutes the room was rearranged and as secure as anything was likely to be in this house against Hideki Tang. "Luckily I topped up my supply of snacks and drinks yesterday after we hung out in here the other day. So long as you're happy with sodas, crisps and sweets. And some fruit, but not as much."
"What kind of soda?"
"I got the kind you like too, never you fear."
That was not a good thing to ask of Rodney Jalowitz. "There's not a way to barricade the window, is there?"
"No, but I have the baseball bat, and there's the space for you in the wardrobe if needs be."
"Right." He was safe as he was going to be. And he was tired - he yawned as he had the thought.
"You can go to bed if you want. It is 3:45am and all."
Rodney looked at the bed. He shouldn't. He should sleep on the floor or something. Or Seth should.
Seth could read his expressions. "Would it help if we used separate bedding? You have your blankets, I have mine... The baseball bat can sleep between us..."
"You need it by your right hand so you can swing properly." But beyond that, Rodney was too tired to argue. And it was a little different with the bedding; rather than being in Seth's bed, he could just be on Seth's bed... That was better somehow, but he was too tired to puzzle out why. He moved to the right side of the bed, closer to the blocked door and away from the window, lay down and pulled his blanket over himself.
"You can have the covers too if you're cold," Seth offered, getting into the other side of the bed.
Rodney was too busy falling asleep.