Of course, it goes without saying that the rest of Jacky's night still wasn't entirely calm, as a mind as active as his was bound to be troubled after such a stressful ordeal. He simply couldn't get it out of his brain that he'd endangered her like that, and how close he could have been to ignorantly causing harm. It made the feathers on his back prickle in an action that felt like something with gross little wriggling legs was crawling through each one of them.

"... So, how long have you known..?" He said after fiddling with the lock on the door, seemingly satisfied after two minutes that it appeared to be in well working order once he tried the mechanism a few times.

"How long have I-?" Claire started before it clicked as to what he was asking directly. "Jacky, I already told you, I wasn't on the game when you did what you did. You don't have to apologize for something that didn't happen."

"But, you've known for months what I could have done if you had been…" Jacky said quietly, standing at the bedside in a manner that suggested that he felt like he was intruding the area. He fidgeted his hands uncomfortably and didn't look at her directly. "... Why aren't you mad at me?"

"Why do you want me to be mad at you?" Claire said, frowning with concern. "It's getting late, and you're probably exhausted from tonight, why don't you just come to bed right now, and we'll talk about this when you're more rested?"

"... I don't know if I'll be able to go back to sleep; my brain is too wound up."

"I know that was a lot that just happened tonight, but I think you handled that fairly well at the end there."

"I really don't know if you could call that 'handled' when I threw the game case across the room."

"Well, are you mad at me, then?"

"... No. I don't… I don't want to be." Jacky mumbled, crawling onto the bed and flopping down in a heap on his side. He heaved a sigh. "... I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."

"If you're mad, that's okay. I mean, I should have told you sooner, and I did try to, but every time it seemed like adding that on top of what was already bothering you was going to do more harm than good at the time." Claire turned off the ceiling light and turned on a somewhat dimmer lamp beside the bed.

"... Weren't you worried that if I'd find out before you meant to tell me, I'd do something, um, something not so good…?"

"I have never felt like I was in danger around you, if that's what you're asking me."

Jacky was silent for a good minute, before he said, smiling weakly, eyes drifting shut, looking somewhat relieved as he did: "... That's nice. That's really nice."

He wasn't sure how long he'd managed to doze off or when that even happened, but he now found himself sitting upright in bed, feeling like his heart was going to explode from the pace it was racing at. He felt a little sick from the sensation, feeling like this was a terrible case of deja vu, and was so confused as to what was happening; it was making his mind reel and spin at a dizzying pace, which made his belly squirm uncomfortably in protest.

He looked around and was admittedly slow in realizing where he was, as the fog in his brain was making his cognitive function a bit hazy, and every one of his senses felt like some form of fuzzy. He felt like the embodiment of a bad cable connection, with all the static to go with it. His hand gripped the fabric of his shirt near his heart, and he felt as if something in his chest was threatening to figuratively burst like a failed dam.

"Jacky?"

That was the clearest thing that reached his ears, and he squinted to try to clear his vision in the dim room.

"... What time is it?" He said in a feeble voice, still trying to make sense of his surroundings, which were starting to become familiar again.

"It's after four, you've only been asleep for about an hour and a half."

"... After four? You're still up? You shouldn't be up this late, Claire, it's not good for you..." Jacky said, not understanding the irony of his statement.

"You were up first."

"... Oh." Jacky said sheepishly, heaving a deep sigh, pressing a hand against his head as if to try to alleviate a dull ache in it. "... I don't think this is much of a surprise, but I'm just as confused as you are about why I'm awake."

"If I'd have to guess, I'd say that you were probably having a nightmare." Claire said, turning on the lamp on the bedside table, which now reminded Jacky that he was in her room. "You were tossing and turning in your sleep, and I've been calling you for the last few minutes at least. I was very close to just grabbing you and shaking you awake myself."

"... That explains why my heart is pounding." Jacky sounded relatively calm, despite the fact that he was noticeably shaking. He slid his hand to his face and wiped upward with the heel of his palm, causing his feathers to bristle awkwardly. "Wish I knew what it was about. Could have been anything, really. This has been one crazy night. Or, I guess, technically, it's morning."

"I know, but you should still try to get some sleep, Jacky." Claire said, reaching over to carefully pull his hand from his feathers, as he had absentmindedly dug his fingers into the fluff once again. He didn't seem to notice. "You doing okay right now?"

Jacky tried to stifle a yawn, and shook his head a little.

"... Not really, I feel really exposed, like how it feels when you're by yourself in the middle of the night, you know what I mean?" He said, drawing his legs up to wrap his arms around his knees after freeing his hands. "... When nothing feels secure enough, you know?"

"I can imagine it's not a nice feeling."

"Not at all." Jacky agreed, before sinking his posture a little bit more, looking miserable. "... Of course, that seems to be something that happens often anyway…" There was a pause, before he groaned quietly, curling up in a tight shuddering heap, face scrunching in an uncomfortable expression: "... My stomach's in knots."

"Do you need me to get you anything for that?" Claire said, wondering if this sudden sour stomach was brought on by anxiety or something else altogether. She put a hand on his back in what she hoped was a soothing gesture, and ran her fingers in a gentle scrubbing motion. "Jacky, is there anything you need right now that could help you feel more comfortable?"

"... I don't know, I don't really want to do anything right now…"

"Let's try to get some sleep if you can, then. It could be jitters that're making those knots, but I'm sure some rest and some peace might help ease some of it."

"... I'll try." Jacky said in a quiet voice, grimacing. "... Already woke up twice tonight, can't guarantee that it's not gonna happen again…"

"Third time's the charm, then."

There was a delay before Jacky wheezed out a small, pained laugh.

"... This is probably not what you had in mind for a special weekend visit, I'm sure." He said, smiling and laying down on his side, still in half-curled position, but at least attempting to get comfortable.

"It's just nice to have you around for the first time in months." Claire said, reaching to turn the bedside lamp off again.

Jacky's hand caught her arm before her other hand touched the switch.

"... Can you just leave that on for now?" He said, a little pink in the face, as if asking such a question was just embarrassing to him. "... I think I'll feel better if it's not so dark in here…"

"Alright, we'll do that, then. Whatever it takes to help you get settled in for the rest of the night." Claire left the lamp on and smiled warmly at him. "This is a safe place; you're safe here."

"... I like that, that sounds nice." Jacky rubbing at his eyes before letting them drift shut. He added in an almost pleading tone: "... Would it be too much to ask if you could just hold me, at least until I'm asleep again? Please? Something stable to hold onto."

Arms reached around him carefully, and he felt her fingers brush against the feathers on his shoulders, and pause on one spot in particular.

"... Isn't that where you have that scar from the fall?"

"One of them. Not sure if it's from the window or the pavement, but it's there. I don't really notice it much anymore, feathers will probably grow over it eventually, I guess. Or not. I dunno, it ruffles them funny."

"Are you alright with my hand there, or do you want me to move it?"

"I don't mind; whatever's comfortable for us. I just want to be able to sleep." Jacky said, nudging himself backwards to get in a better position to make it easier for her arms to reach around him so he could grip his hand to hers as she moved them from his shoulders to wrap around his chest securely. "... This is nice." He mumbled.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"About as good as I can be right now. Just tired, mostly. Sorry for waking you up, by the way."

"You don't have to apologize about that, you said you had a nightmare, everyone gets them, it's alright." Claire reassured, putting her forehead to the back of his head. "What do you want to do later today?"

"Don't you mean 'tomorrow'?"

"It's almost dawn, it's officially 'today'."

"... I don't know, just something nice, I guess. I don't mind if we just stay in, even." Jacky said quietly, trying to stifle a yawn. "... We haven't had a day all to ourselves in forever, honestly, so I'm a bit rusty in figuring out what we should do on an off day…"

He didn't really hear anything that Claire might have said, if at all, as at that moment in response to the statement, that little nagging voice in the back of his mind chimed in, almost mockingly, filling every metaphorical surface is his brain with the thought: So, you're just going to not acknowledge that whole video game thing for the rest of the night, hmm?

Jacky went absolutely rigid.

His breathing hitched and he could feel his feathers begin to bristle down his back and along his shoulders. His fingers involuntarily squeezed whatever they were holding onto tightly, and when he came to his senses, he realized with horror that he had been digging his fingers into Claire's arm.

Without waiting for any sort of response to the incident, Jacky's fight-or-flight instinct took over and "flight" gripped him to where he was already falling off the edge of the bed before he could rationalize what happened. There was a shout of his name, the sudden sensation of slamming his arm and shoulder into the floor, and his feet scrabbling along the carpet as they tried to move him to the other side of the room in his panic. He must have looked like a frightened deer desperately trying to get traction on an icy lake, and it probably didn't help that he was making a noise not unlike a distressed and disoriented wounded animal.

His back hit a wall with enough force to cause some hanging picture frames to rattle, and he flinched at the noise of glass breaking when one fell off it's hook. He threw his hands to his head and gripped the fluff in rough handfuls for the umpteenth time that night, and just moaned pitifully, squeezing his eyes shut as he curled into a shaking ball.

"... Jacky."

Claire's voice was so calm despite this sudden shift in his behavior, and it confused him so much that it almost made him angry, and he just didn't want to be angry. He really didn't understand; by all accounts, one of them should be angry about the whole ordeal, this whole mess, but they just weren't. He made a noise like a cross between a hiccup and a gasp, and buried his wet face in his hands, shoulders trembling.

"... Jacky, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong…" Claire sounded as if she was trying to find the right comfort words to calm him down so he could communicate more clearly the reason for his distress, as she was definitely concerned about his emotional state at the moment. She was crouched beside him and reached a hand for his shoulder. "... What's got you so worked up? I didn't forget another red light, did I? I-"

She stopped speaking. Jacky had lifted his head and for the briefest moment, his eyes looked at her as if he didn't recognize her at all. Claire pulled her hand away in shock before she realized that his eyes weren't even focused on anything in particular. He was still shivering, and there was a split second where his eyes widened before he shoved away with an uncomfortable groan and stumbled his way to the adjoining master bathroom in a bleary eyed panic.

Then there was a noise not unlike a wet cough, a rough hack or two perhaps.

Oh.

Jacky had gotten sick to his stomach.

That's why his sight and reaction to seeing her seemed off; he was feeling ill. No wonder…

The sound of a running faucet punctuated the otherwise quiet air as Claire stood up from the floor, crossed the room and leaned in through the doorway to find Jacky leaning over the sink, rinsing his mouth with a handful of water and a disgusted grimace set in his face, staring at his reflection with a somewhat exhausted gaze.

"... Jacky..?"

"... Mmfine…" He mumbled and made a half-hearted shooing gesture, which came off as a sort of automatic response than anything to take offense to. He wretched momentarily, but managed to fight it back with a very focused gulp, trying to settle his stomach again with pure force of will this time.

"You threw up in the sink, I don't think 'fine' is the right choice of words, Jacky." Claire said, placing a hand on his back and giving him a few reassuring pats as he stared sidewise at her, shuddering. "Are you sure you're still up for the whole weekend, or should we just-?"

"I know that you're trying to be accommodating, but it's really starting to sound like you're trying to get rid of me."

This response took Claire aback.

"Jacky, you know that's not what I mean!" She said sternly.

He flinched when it sunk in what he'd said.

"Sorry, sorry, that was-! I shouldn't have said that, that was way out of line, I-! I didn't-!" Jacky stammered an attempt at an apology, and it wasn't long before he was stumbling over words and clearly having a hard time trying to spill out a coherent explanation. He was frustrated and near the point of tears, and it was obvious that he'd hit a verbal brick wall with an incredible amount of self awareness of the fact, which did nothing to settle him down.

"... The night's almost over Jacky, let's just try to get some sleep, I'm sure being tired isn't helping you feel any better."

"... It's not, no, not really…" Jacky was able to mumble, shaking his head while rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. "... But, I shouldn't say stuff like that, you're just trying to help, and I'm being a dillweed."

Claire was patient with him, oh, she was so patient.

"You're not being a dillweed, Jacky; you're tired and you just got sick and you're clearly not going to be feeling chipper after what's been going on tonight." She said, handing him a hand towel for him to wipe his face better. "Let's go back to bed for now and we'll talk about this tomorrow when you're not running on fumes. You really need to let your mind rest."

"I was too being a dillweed. Being tired isn't an excuse for me acting like a jerk."

"I fail to see when and how exactly you were acting like a jerk right now."

"... Did I not just make a wild accusation in a moment of sickness induced irritably, or was that just in my imagination..?" Jacky pulled the towel away from his face to stare at her with raised eyebrows.

"'Sickness induced irritably' seems to be self explanatory enough."

"... Still doesn't make it okay. If I'm being a dillweed, you can tell me." Jacky muttered, dropping the towel on the sink counter. "... I left marks on your arm, are you okay..?"

"Oh, this? It's fine, I didn't really think about that until just now, honestly."

"... Oh, no, what if this leaves bruises, and they look like finger marks? People are going to think that-"

"No one is going to think anything, Jacky." Claire interrupted his train of thought before it began drifting again. "... Is that why you're so upset right now?"

"... Maybe one of the reasons, but it's all a little more complicated than I can word very well." Jacky looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact.

"You don't have to explain if you don't want to, but if it's bothering you enough that it's making you sick, I'm here if you want to talk about it." Claire reminded him gently. "... Think your stomach's settled enough to try to go back to sleep, or do you want to wait another few minutes?"

"... Sleep sounds fantastic right now." Jacky said quietly while being led out of the bathroom and back to his side of the bed. "... This probably isn't the sort of weekend you were looking forward to, I'll bet…"

"Honestly, this is the most exciting thing to happen in this house in months."

Jacky snorted a laugh as he climbed back on the bed and flopped on his side.

"... Well of course, because I haven't been living here for a while." He said, curling up. His eyelids felt heavy again, as did his head and limbs. Exhaustion was catching up to him and he was so ready to fall asleep again...

The fever dreams that resulted from this night were definitely… something. Of course, his poor memory retention meant most of it faded from his recollection by the time he'd completely woke up, but the one confusing lingering mental image that stuck was of handcrafted dolls that spewed from their mouths colorful yarns of reddish tints and shades. Then he had to wonder exactly what grade of yarn that must have been, as it seemed to be too good of quality to be acrylic and wool wasn't usually within his budget, before he had to mentally kick himself for even considering that he had a budget for his own dreams.

Yarn barf.

Yarf.

Fever dreams were weird as heck.

It was well after noon by the time he managed to pull himself out of bed, and wandered down the hall in a groggy, half-awake daze. The house was quiet, aside from the noise of kitchen related stuff against a metal sink, which led him in the direction of the room as he racked his brain for any recent memory of what happened the night before; his memory was always a bit foggy on waking up since his accident. It was not uncommon for him to spend his first few minutes of the day wondering where he was and what he'd been up to the day prior, before it all came trickling back within the first ten minutes.

He stood in the hallway for a good long minute in genuine confusion at first, and felt a gradual rush of anxiety take hold of him as last night's various events became more clearer in his recent memory. How was he going to get through the day without acknowledging all that? It's not like he could pretend that didn't happen.

Passing by the computer on the table in the far side of the living room, Jacky glanced sideways at it, wondering just how many virtual games one could hide in it. How did he not suspect this even once? How ignorant he must have been, how absolutely, unbelievably stu-

No, none of that, he was not going to let negative thoughts creep around the corners of his brain if he could help it. It was supposed to be a nice weekend visit home, and today was Saturday.

No one would blame you if you found a stash of that mind rot and simply got rid of it, or it were to just break or something. It happens. Probably be better for everyone anyway.

He ignored that little thought to the best of his ability. After all, Claire had to really have worked up the nerve to tell him about it at all, especially after Jacky had told her all about that horrible product recall incident that had hovered (still continues to do so) over him for so long. Based on the lawsuits and statistics, as far as he knew, he had unintentionally harmed his clientele. Maybe even worse, and as much as he absolutely hated himself for making that horrifying mistake, even after he ranted on and on about all the hate mail he'd received and all the awful letters that were sent to him that called him a monster and the like… she still held him warmly until he could get his bearings again.

Conflicted inside, twisted up, confusing mess, so tired, can't even remember why, broken as all heck brain…

Jacky was beginning to not like how sour that inner voice was starting to be. It had gone from being annoyingly benign to downright meansprited with some of the ideas it pushed on him.

Yeah, go ahead and tell her you've got someone knocking around your mind, see how that ends, you unstable-

Jacky was starting to get tired of having to silence the darn thing so he could have peace enough to think. He inwardly told it off, and tore his eyes away from the computer desk, hoping to find something else that could lift his mood even the slightest.

It was Saturday.

Saturdays were nice.

He took a step forward and suddenly froze. How was he supposed to just tell her that anyway? Was she even aware? Has he told her before? He couldn't remember if he had, but then again, what else was new?

This day was already off to a rough start. And it was already noon.

He could probably sneak off back to bed right now and spend the whole day there and no one would be the wiser; he didn't get much sleep the night prior, so no one would blame him, it was a perfect alibi.

His nostrils tickled and then he sneezed.

Oh, curse it.

"Jacky? Are you up?"

"... Yes." He said sheepishly, reluctantly stepping into the kitchen. He shuffled his way to the table and sat down. Quite honestly, he felt like he could just go back to bed anyway, and it must have been written clearly on his face.

"Jacky, are you feeling any better?"

"... I don't know. I can't say that I feel 'good', but I don't exactly feel 'bad' either. It's just something in between that I don't like." He said truthfully, glancing at the counter and saw that the game box was still sitting there. He shuddered and threw his gaze to the other side of the room. "... I mean, how do we just go back to normal now that that's all out in the open?"

"I guess we just don't go back to normal, then. Can't be too bad; stagnating is a bit boring, to be honest."

"Yes, but stability is good too, and realizing that I was too stupid to even know tha-"

"You're not stupid, you just didn't have a reason to consider it was going on, and you're still recovering from your injury. If anything, I was too good at hiding it from you."

"... You really don't strike me as an avid… um… gamer." Jacky said in a quiet tone, not sure how to respond to that.

"Well, honestly the key to that is moderation, and I make sure to balance that hobby with other activities and not let it take over my daily life." Claire admitted. "I know you don't like them at all, but the entire market has changed a lot over the years. There's some you can play by just getting a little peripheral to link up and it translates your daily step count into prizes, so in order to play, you have to go outside and not actually play the thing like you would with other games." She sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the table. "You have to go outside and explore your town in order to get the full experience. Not everyone who plays video games is a typical couch potato; even the elderly join in."

"... Yeah, but… I… I have good ideas too."

"No one said that they weren't."

"No one said that they were, either."

There was a pause from Claire before she said: "QuackWerks isn't exactly the best place to judge on that."

"... No… No, I suppose it's not." Jacky mumbled, folding his arms on the table and putting his head down. He tapped his fingers across the surface, and lifted his head just a little bit. "... So, what do we do now?"

"I was thinking we could probably just have toaster waffles."

"No, I mean-Ah-actually toaster waffles sound good, but I was talking about the, um…" He gestured to the game box on the counter. "Th-that thing over there."

"... I could put that in a drawer with the rest."

"... How come I have never seen these things in the house before? I can't wrap my head around it."

"Try not to stress yourself out over it right now, you just woke up, and you still haven't eaten yet. For the record, it's probably because it doesn't consume every waking moment of my life, so it's not really out in the open." Claire said, reaching across the table to touch his arm. "How are you feeling right now? Do you need me to get you anything?"

"... I think I'll be okay for now." He said quietly, taking a deep breath and exhaling. "... I just need to relax, this is supposed to be a nice weekend…"

"If it's bothering you, I can just throw the disc out."

"No, don't trash your things because of me!" Jacky shouted, sitting up suddenly and looking rather alarmed. "That's your thing! I can't just make you change like that, what would the neighbors think!"

Claire blinked.

"But, we can compromise."

Jacky didn't respond to that. He pursed his lips and stared at the tablecloth, looking as though several thoughts were running through his head at the same time.

"Jacky?"

"... Be honest. What do you think we should do?"

"... Toaster waffles."

"... That does sound nice." Jacky said flatly. He coughed to clear his throat, and sniffed. "... So… I guess we do toaster waffles."

"That old disc was scratched anyway, it's just an installation disc that I already backed up, so it's honestly useless now…" Claire added, sounding as if she was fishing for an idea that sounded appealing to Jacky. "... It's just a piece of plastic now, so it can be trashed."

Jacky perked up for a split second, but quickly countered himself.

"But, it's not mine to trash. It's yours."

"And I'm saying that we can do that, Jacky. I thought you'd like to take it out on Whiffle Boy for a second."

"... You're testing me, aren't you? This is a test."

"I'm just saying, that disc is absolute garbage now. Maybe it might find it's way into the blender?"

"... Claire, don't, I know that you're trying to make me feel better, but I don't like the idea of you destroying your stuff just to make me happy."

"Jacky, I said this disc is totally useless, and it's been totally useless for a while. I'm not losing anything by getting rid of it."

"Yeah, but the blender? Come on, the milkshakes come from there, I don't want the milkshakes to have traces of Whiffle Boy in it." He said quite seriously.

"What about if we use the paper shred-"

"NO!" Jacky snapped loudly, perhaps more forceful than he'd intended. He kicked the chair back as he stood up to slam his hands on the table, clearly reacting in a visceral manner.

Jacky was standing with a great deal of tension in his shaking frame, eyes wide and chest heaving with heavy breaths. A trembling hand made its way to his forehead, and he continued to stare at the table with mute confusion, as if he'd also been taken by surprise with his reaction.

"... Jacky, are you alright?"

"... My head hurts."

"Like it did before you had that migraine?" Claire said, watching him carefully as she stood from her chair to approach him. "Jacky, do you want me to shut the lights off? Do you need to lie down?"

"... No, it's just… sore." Jacky grunted, taking a deep breath before forcing an awkward grin. "... I probably just didn't catch up on all that sleep I missed last night."

"You can sit in the living room if that'll be more comfortable for you, I can just bring the toaster waffles in there, if you want."

"..."

"Jacky?"

"... I could go back to sleep, to be honest."

"At least try to eat something first, you threw up last night, so you don't have anything on your stomach at the moment, and you need something to buffer your meds, or you'll get sick again."

"I know, I know, but I don't really feel all that hungry right now."

"What if I put some jam on the waffles? You can eat it like toast."

Jacky nodded distantly and pushed away from the table to make his way to the couch. He paused in the middle of the threshold, and stood there. He stood in place long enough that Claire took notice after she set the waffles in the toaster.

"Jacky? What's wrong?"

"... I can't remember what I was going to do." He said quietly, looking over his shoulder with a mildly distressed glance. "I was walking this way for a reason, and now I don't know why."

"You were probably going to go sit on the couch, since we were just talking about it and I was toasting some waffles for you." Claire said in a gentle tone, frowning to herself a little at the sight of his distress. "Another memory lapse? It's been a while since you've really had one of those."

"I guess? I'm usually not this confused when I'm awake…"

"It's probably because you're tired, but I'll keep an eye on that throughout the day for you, if you want." Claire said, reaching for the jam in the cabinet. "Do you feel alright otherwise? You're not dizzy, are you?"

"Kinda? Not sick-dizzy, but antsy, really."

"Go sit down on the couch, and see if that helps, I'll be in there with the toaster waffles in a moment."

"Toaster waffles sound nice." Jacky said, smiling and nodding with no real rhythm. "... I could just fall asleep again."

"Eat something first, and you can take a nap if you want."

By the time she walked into the living room with the waffles, Jacky was on the couch, holding the TV remote and staring at it in his hands, frowning a little.

"What's up?"

"... What was the number for that one station with the cheesy scifi movies again? For the life of me, I can't remember."

"With all those station numbers to remember, I don't blame you." Claire took the remote from his hands and held the plate of jam covered toaster waffles out to him. "I'll find it for you, you just focus on eating."

By the time she'd found the channel, Jacky had finished the waffles and had settled himself more comfortably on the couch, and, understandably, dozed off. Claire picked the plate up from the coffee table to take it to the sink and returned with a pillow from the bedroom, which she tucked under his head.

He napped for about a movie and a half.

There was a screeching noise that was punctuated by the panicked sound of a horn honking, and another loud sound that was not immediately identifiable. It took Claire by surprise, waking her up, and perhaps it took her far longer than necessary to realize that Jacky's side of the bed was empty.

And the bedroom door was open.

... Those two things can't possibly be connected… She reasoned with herself, half asleep, before quickly getting out of bed once her initial dismissive thought of him possibly having a bathroom trip was quickly nixed when she remembered that there was an adjoining bathroom to the room, so the bedroom door had no reason to be open.

Jacky wasn't in the hallway. He wasn't in the main bathroom. He wasn't in the living room.

But the front door, however, was most certainly open.

It was two in the morning, and the front door was open, and Jacky was nowhere in the house, and Claire realized with a sense of dread that the screeching noise and honking was very likely to have been a car.

Jacky was not in the house.

The front door was open.

The front door was wide open.

Jacky was not in the house.

The front door was wide open.

Rushing outside, there was quite a scene for her to take in. Jacky was standing, unsteady, in the middle of the road, and a car that seemed to have had to make a sudden swerve and screeching halt was parked haphazardly on the curb on the other side of the street, back end apparently having stuck a fire hydrant. Skid marks from the tires marred the asphalt quite clearly and trailed a noticeable distance.

The driver of the car was shouting in Jacky's direction, and Jacky didn't seem to acknowledge that he was in a predicament at all. In fact, he simply stood where he was in the middle of the road, staring at the city skyline in the distance with an unreadable expression.

"Jacky!" Claire grabbed his face with both of her hands and brought him to be eye level with her. "Why are you out here? It's late and not safe to be wandering around like that in the dark! Are you alright, you're not hurt or anything, are you!"

Jacky stared at her as if he was barely aware of what was going on, or where he even was for that matter.

The driver of the car was still yelling, having stepped out of the vehicle and was now gesturing wildly to the damage of their car.

"What are you, crazy! What do you think you're doing, standing in the middle of the road like that, in the middle of the night, you lunatic!" They continued to shout. "You were almost a road waffle! Look what happened to my car!"

Jacky still did not react to the angered driver, and that was when Claire noticed that his eyes were glassy, unfocused and honestly looking as though he were still half asleep.

... He doesn't even know what's happening; he's just been sleepwalking… She realized, taking into account of his odd behavior and what had been going on in the last few days. He probably doesn't even understand that he's left the house at all. We're in the middle of the road, I have to get him out of the street first, then I can figure out what to do next…

The driver of the car was getting a little less persistent in their barrage of angry words, perhaps noticing that the disoriented Duck hadn't intentionally done what he'd done.

"... Hey, is he alright? I didn't actually hit him, did I?"

"I don't think you did, he's been ill and hasn't been sleeping well lately; he's probably just disoriented because he's sleepwalking or something similar." Claire explained briefly, hoping to not have to go into great detail about her boyfriend's health history so that the car owner would just leave them alone with a satisfying answer. "I'm sorry, I didn't think he'd be able to get out of the house like that."

"Do you need me to call anyone? I can do that after I call up a tow truck; I have my phone with me."

"No, that's alright, my phone's just in the house. I think I should get him out of the street first, before I do anything else." Claire said, mostly to herself. Her hands moved from his face and slid down to his shoulders, trying to get some acknowledgement on his part. He fidgeted uncomfortably and brought a shaky hand upward in an attempt to pull hers off of him, but it seemed to be a reflexive action rather than anything intentional. "... Jacky, we're going to go back in the house now. I need to make sure that you're alright, so we need to leave the road right now. Can you follow me out of the road right now?"

She was talking to him as clearly as possible, hoping that her careful but firm tone would jar some reaction out of him, just enough to get him to move towards the sidewalk at least. He still looked towards the city skyline, eyes fixed on the monolithic mass of buildings in the epicenter of the city. The QuackWerks building in particular, being the tallest of the display…

Claire felt her heart sink just a little. Jacky was staring at the darn thing in the distance with such a lost look blanketed across his tired face, as if the sight of it was filling him with a sense of dread but he couldn't remember why he'd feel such.

"... Jacky, let's go back in the house." She said a little more urgently, catching his hands in hers, trying to get him to look away from the building and step back inside. It was then she realized that his plumage was slightly damp, as if it had been slowly soaking up some of the chilly humidity of moist and breezy air of the late autumn night, and she distantly wondered how long he must have been outside to get this damp. "... Jacky, you need to be inside, it's cold and wet out here, you're going to get sick, and you don't even have anything on your feet."

It was like talking to a confused and stubborn child. He didn't seem to have any intention of moving. Whether it was from disinterest or just plain misaimed spite, it was hard to tell. Claire tugged at his hands in another attempt to get him to move, and to her relief, his feet shuffled in her direction. With some effort, she was able to get him to step to the sidewalk, but he was still far from cognitively aware of what exactly was happening.

She guided him to the porch steps and carefully helped him sit on the slab, so she could deal with the issue of the driver of the car that could have very well mowed him down. He stared upwards with bleary eyes, and she had to wonder what it was he was seeing right now. As it would turn out, she simply had to exchange information and she gave the driver a number for a towing service that wasn't too far into town, and offered to pay for the damages. Claire occasionally glanced back at the steps to be sure that Jacky hadn't gotten up and wandered off again in his altered state.

She was going to have to make a phone call about this as soon as possible, it seemed.

Not sure how much time had passed by the time she stepped back to the porch, Claire attempted to guide Jacky back inside the house, but he didn't seem interested in getting his butt off the concrete.

"... Jacky, you really need to come back inside, now." She said, reaching under his arms and trying to hoist him to his feet. It was a bit like trying to move a life size doll from the ground, if said doll had been stuffed with (multiple!) sacks of potatoes. "... I know that you probably aren't hearing me right now, but if you could just stand up a little bit, this would be a lot easier."

He tilted his head back to look in her general direction and blinked. And blinked. And blinked. The fourth blink seemed to clear his eyes and the fifth and sixth were met with confusion on his part as he stared back at her.

"... This is… umm, this is not the bedroom…"

"No, it's not."

"... I'm not going to like the story behind this, am I?" Jacky remained surprisingly calm despite the situation, although his voice did sound somewhat forced doing so.

"Probably not." Claire said, shifting her grip on him to try to pull him to his feet, as Jacky still didn't seem to realize that he had essentially let himself be a ragdoll of deadweight at the moment. "For starters, you wandered out of the house."

"... How'd I manage to do that?"

"I'd have to assume that you were sleepwalking."

"... I haven't done something like that in a long time." Jacky said, rolling his head forward to look ahead, sounding somewhat embarrassed. "There's a car over there that looks like it hit a fire hydrant." He pointed, stating that quite plainly as if that was a peculiarly mundane sight.

"I'm very much aware of that, Jacky. And thank goodness it missed you completely."

"... What?"

"You wandered out of the house and into the road."

"... What?" Jacky said in a hoarse voice, kicking his feet to get his footing as a reflexive squirm. "Claire, please tell me I didn't."

"Jacky, you got out of the house, I'm not going to lie to you." Claire said truthfully as Jacky finally got his footing and stood up properly. The way Jacky stared at her made it hard to do so, but she knew that he would have been just as upset if she hadn't. "You walked into the road and just stood there. I don't know when or for how long, but it's all been taken care of, the driver has a tow truck coming, you're not hurt, and we're going to go back in the house and try to get some sleep now."

"... I walked into the road. Claire, that's not a statement anyone should say that they did in the middle of the night." Jacky dug his fingers into the patchy downy feathers on his head and tugged at them anxiously.

"You were most likely sleepwalking, it wasn't intentional, if that's what you're worried about." Claire said while sliding her fingers under his hands to pry them away from the fluff. "I'm not mad at you, we just need to make sure the doors are locked better and maybe make a few precautions in the future."

"You're saying that like you're so sure that I'm not going to jail after I'm officially discharged from the hospital." Jacky mumbled, turning his eyes back to the car across the street. "Good lord, why can't I have a normal night for once? Is sleeping through the night one time too much to ask for?"

"You have a healing brain, there's going to be times where it's going to get confused and it's not going to be your fault." Claire tried to reassure him. She moved her hands to squeeze his shoulders gently, trying to give a comforting gesture to calm him down. "It's going to be scary sometimes, and I know that I really have no idea how you feel about it. Come inside now, it's foggy and the moisture is starting to soak into your feathers, and the last thing you need right now is to catch a cold."

"... There's a lot of things that could be the last thing I need, really. And trying to process all of this right now is definitely one of them."

"Just come inside, Jacky."

"Yeah, but that car-?" He started to say before he was cut off when he was half-dragged through the threshold by his shirt collar. "... T-too rough." He squeaked.

"I'll go get you a towel."

"... I'm not that wet."

"Jacky, you are going to dry yourself off before you go back to bed, or so help me, I will do it for you myself, even if I have to hold you down to do it. You are not catching a cold if I have anything to say about it."

There was a moment of hesitation on Jacky's part as his face slowly flushed a peculiar shade of vermillion while he carefully considered the likelihood that that action would result in some of his feathers to be bared when they usually weren't. Not to mention that he was particularly self conscious about the condition of his feathers that were usually hidden from sight. And then there was that little balding patch near his armpit, well hidden by a shirt sleeve, that he may or may not have absentmindedly plucked at, that he didn't feel like answering questions about…

"... I can do it myself." He said quietly, following her to the hall closet. "I really just want to get this night over with."

"I get what you mean, but I just don't want you getting sick." She handed him a particularly fluffy towel, and he stepped awkwardly to the bathroom to shut the door, so he could comfortably dry off with privacy. "With as much stress as you've been under lately, you're going to be a little more vulnerable to that sort of thing."

"I'm not that helpless." Jacky snapped bitterly from the other side of the door.

"I didn't say that you were, Jacky." Claire said, realizing that he was starting to feel cornered. "I'm just trying to help."

There was a good ten seconds of silence before Jacky audibly exhaled and mumbled an apology.

"... I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be snapping at you like that." He said, opening the door just enough to peer through the threshold sheepishly. "I'm just being a dillweed again. You can just say that I'm being a dillweed."

"You're not being a dillweed, but you are starting to be difficult to deal with right now."

Jacky stared blankly, appearing as though the gears in his mind were struggling to work. Something had thrown a monkey wrench into the whole system.

"Jacky?"

"... I… I'm trying." He said hoarsely, blinking rapidly and dropping his gaze to the floor as he stepped away from the door and out of sight. "... I'm truh-trying… I-I'm really… I'm trying…"

"I didn't say-" Claire started to speak before she realized that he was starting to emotionally dissolve. She carefully pushed the door open so she could step through the threshold. Jacky was standing stiffly in the middle of the bathroom, wheezing and trembling. "Jacky, however that sounded to you, I didn't mean to upset you like that. It's late, we're both tired, and I'm sure that's not helping at all."

Jacky continued to shake on the spot, eyes wide and staring. His hands crept upward to dig fingers into the flesh of the opposing upper arms, and he continued to wheeze heavily. The towel he'd been using to dry off his damp feathers with, lay in a heap at his feet.

"You just had a terrible experience, so I know you're not okay right now." Claire said, trying to pick her words carefully. "... It's okay to not be okay right now."

"... I'm… trying…"

"Jacky, do you want me to get you anything? Do you need me to do something?"

"... Truh-trying…" Jacky choked out, clenching his jaw as his fingers squeezed his arms in a white knuckle grip, trembling enough to make his teeth chatter audibly. "... C-can't… I can't… can't stop… shuh-shuh-shaking…"

"Jacky, let's get you out of the bathroom so you can lay down, it might help." Claire said gently, pausing before reaching her arms out to him. "Are you okay with me touching you right now? I'm asking so I don't make you feel more uncomfortable."

"... Claire, I c-c-can't stop shake-k-king…" Jacky whimpered. He sounded so helpless, so desperate for even the slightest reprieve. He inhaled sharply, and wheezed even louder. "... I d-don't like this… make it stuh-stop…"

"Jacky, are you sure you don't want me to call the hospital? Because I really don't know if what I'm doing is helping at all."

Jacky stammered and gasped again. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes roughly, moaning like a feverish child.

"... I wanna st-tuh-stay here…"

"Then you're going to have to help me here and talk to me, Jacky." Claire said, still hesitant to touch him, as she wasn't sure if he was going to be receptive at the moment. "... Jacky, you're crying, why are you crying?"

This statement actually seemed to startle him. His fingers wiped across his cheeks reflexively, and he stared at the wetness that stayed on them, dumbfounded.

"... I… I don't know… I don't know why this is happening…" He said, voice sounding weak and shot, as if his vocal cords were about to give out. "... I don't like this…"

"I know, Jacky. And I want to help you feel better if I can."

"... I'm so tired…" Jacky moaned miserably, biting back a reflexive laugh, the sort of snicker that comes forth in a desperate attempt to soothe one's self after a conga line of rotten luck. "... I'm just so damn tired…"

"Jacky…" Claire started, before she realized that she really had no idea what to say to that. Words of encouragement can only go so far before they start sounding like a broken record.

"... I'm so sorry for dragging you into this…" Jacky continued to lament, fingers winding into the hem of his shirt. He gasped and choked back a sob, tears falling thick now. Hiccups were starting to punctuate his words, making his stuttering even more pronounced when he tried to suppress it. "... I'm s-so sorry for making you [hic] worry about me… I'm so sorry for t-taking up all your free time… you deserve better, why did-! [Hic] Whuh-why did I ever think that [hic] that something like me would ever be able to-"

Jacky wasn't able to finish that sentence, as at that exact moment, his brain seemed to have completely stopped, like someone hitting the switch on an old tube television, click pop static and all. The sensation of standing had left him entirely, and his mind was a jumble of disconnected thoughts. All he could hear was breathing. Who's breathing? He couldn't say, honestly. His hiccups seemed to have stopped as well.

The blurry sight of the bathroom swam through his muddled vision. He blinked. And blinked. And blinked. And dragged his eyes to stare at the mirror that hung over the sink.

He was leaning into Claire, having lost the ability to stand. Her arms were wrapped around him, practically cradling him, as he hung against the hold, his arms dangling limply. He might have been right to assume he'd fainted in mid-rant, and that she'd caught him before he'd hit the floor. Her beak was pressed into his, and he could feel his pulse pounding in his chest and head.

Her beak was pressed into his.

Her beak was pressed into his.

His breath was short, and his legs weak, but her beak was pressed into his.

He stammered and stuttered and struggled to get a coherent word out of his flustered mouth. He felt as if nearly every bone in his body had spontaneously become gelatin, every muscle had become feeble, his head dizzy and his mind giddy. A sawdust filled doll desperately clawing for grip on cloud nine, if that made any sense.

This was not exactly how he'd envision such an event to play out, and yet…

"Don't say that. Don't you ever say that. Don't you be sorry that we met." Claire told him, pulling away and carefully gripping his jaw with her hand to be sure that they kept eye contact.

"... You'd still have a job at QuackWerks if it wasn't for me…" Jacky said dumbly, unsure of what exactly to say to that.

"And that's supposed to be a good alternative? Did you forget what that place was doing to you?"

"... No…" Jacky said quietly and dropped his gaze. There was a pause before it really, really sunk in, and his eyes went wide. "That was a kiss!"

"It was all I could think of that was going to snap you out of it." Claire said as he squirmed in her hold and brought a hand to his lips, appearing to be awestruck. "I know you prefer them on a cheek, but-"

"... I-It's so personal…" He squeaked, looking and sounding like a young boy that had been caught scribbling notes of infatuation on scraps of paper. "... I never actually thought about… I mean, I'm fine with… Ooooooooh, my goodness, it tickles…" He giggled, bringing his other hand up as well, pawing at his lips, seemingly forgetting that his face had been a hot mess of tears not even minutes prior. "Tickles. It's so tickly!"

She didn't really have any doubt about how he felt her, but he never did seem to know how to act on those emotions most of the time. He had no problem with hugging and nudging and cuddling, but a quick peck, shared or not, always made him, as he explained: "Ticklish."

She could never tell if that meant if was a good or a bad feeling for him.

"If I overstepped, I'm-"

His hands shot upwards and pulled her towards him. The action was so unexpected that Claire barely had time to stabilize her footing and, having been the one keeping them both upright, she fell against him with a shout as they stumbled awkwardly out of the bathroom in a desperate attempt to keep from slamming into the tiled floor. Jacky's back hit the wall in the hallway, while Claire instinctively brought an arm up to shield the back of his head from taking another unnecessary knock to it. They stared at each other, panting, as they slid to the floor, Jacky's feathers bristling in embarrassment.

"... Th-that wasn't supposed to…" He mumbled, chuckling nervously as a hand flew to his head feathers, awkwardly trying to smooth them out as he continued to wheeze. "... I'm such a dork."

"Are you okay? You didn't hit your head, did you?"

"No, I'm fine, it's fine." Jacky grunted. "... I'm not very smooth, am I?"

"Huh?"

"I was trying to make this a tie. You got me in the lips, it was my turn…" Jacky said, sounding like he was unhappy with how something had played out. "Now I can't because you're going to know it's coming."

"... You were trying to get a kiss." Claire stated quite plainly, finding his flustered reaction to all this rather adorable. Of all the reasons for him to be exasperated right now…

"It's only fair!" Jacky pouted, seemingly forgetting what he'd originally been upset about to begin with. He threw his arms in the air. "And I've got the finesse of a nearsighted lamprey! Gah, stupid, stupid, stupid!"

A peck on his check.

His body went rigid, mind completely empty for a split second.

"Stop that! Now I'm losing!" He squawked, face beet red, buried in his hands, giggling reflexively. "Now I owe you two!"

"Well, if you keep being so down on yourself like that, I've got to do something to bring you back up."

"No fair! I'm still stuck under you! I can't get away!"

"Hey, you pulled us both down like that." Claire teased. "You said so yourself that you were-"

Jacky arched his back to try to get free, which made her topple off him, and the both of them tried to scramble to their feet in an awkward tangle of limbs. Jacky in particular, due to the slight weakness in his left side from the brain injury, but he managed to stand up regardless.

"... It still tickles." He said sheepishly, touching his fingers to his lip.

"It's getting late, are you ready to go back to bed?" Claire said, gesturing to the room down the hall. "After all this excitement, you've got to be exhausted now."

"... I could sleep."

"And we probably should think about calling Ms. Mustela in the afternoon."

"... Why?"

"Because it's probably a good idea to bring up some of this."

"It's not really-"

"Jacky." Claire said sternly, placing a hand on his back to urge him to step towards the room. "You shouldn't be trying to bottle everything in so much; it's just plain not good for you. I don't expect you to tell me everything, but I want you to be able to tell me anything."

Jacky made a small, apprehensive groan.

"... It's… It's so embarrassing…"

"What is?"

"Having to explain everything." Jacky said, looking down. "... It just makes it more clear that something's fundamentally wrong with me when I have to say it out loud."

"Well, heck, no one's perfect, Jacky, I wouldn't say that that always means something's wrong." Claire said before waving a hand in a frantic gesture once something clicked in her brain. "That didn't sound the way I intended! I just wanted to say that you don't have to be embarrassed about it! I mean, I'm going to therapy, too. It's a perfectly normal thing-"

Jacky, to her surprise, snickered at this.

"Oh, now who's the flustered one?" He said playfully, reaching his arms around her to get closer, and nuzzle into her affectionately. "Of course I know you go too, I'm the one who set you up for it, silly!"

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now? I know this was a wild night, but we can still try to get some rest in before the sun comes up."

"Just don't let me run off again, and I think I'll be fine."

"I'll do my best."

"... I'm serious." Jacky said flatly. "I want to wake up in a bed I fell asleep in."

"... That's a reasonable request."

After making sure that the front door was properly locked, and the bedroom door was well secure, and the room was clear of red lights, a few sips of water, and the insistence that Jacky at least wash his face before calling it a night… the two finally found themselves, once again, on the bed.

It was three in the morning now.

Claire reached for the lamp, but Jacky caught her arm and shook his head with an anxious grunt.

"Keep the light on?"

Jacky made a noise of agreement, and nudged closer, pressing his forehead into her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her in the sort of way that he seemed like he was worried that he would simply fall into an unknown abyss if he didn't keep his grip firm on his lifeline before he nodded off.

"... Try to get some sleep, Jacky." Claire said gently, reaching her free hand up to run her fingers through the feathers on the back of his head and down his neck in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

Jacky yawned and sleepily mumbled something that had the cadence of: "... Love ya."

"... Love ya too, you silly boy."