MV2: Unwillingly Awake

Andy shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He'd slept, dreaming again of that horrid, blasted landscape; at least the beast had kept him company in his dreams. He still had the phoenix feather in its glass case, and the pistol that Steve had issued to him; he'd returned the shotgun, but Steve had advised him to keep the pistol and its ammunition locked away in his room. Since that likely involved breaking -- or at least bending -- a few rules for both of them, Andy had simply nodded and said nothing else about it. A showdown with his maker would have been nice, a way to tie things off one way or another, but apparently he didn't get that. 

No surprise. He stirred, rose, and brushed his teeth -- whether that was even needed anymore was an open question, but he'd rather smell of fresh cleaning than not. Then he dressed himself. 

He'd always had a good sense of time, and while it wasn't dark outside yet it would be soon. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a decent set of sandals... he had a pair of hiking boots, but if he used his claws he'd tear right through them. No, he wanted to keep those for when he felt safe. He could probably call out claws on his fingers without extending them from his toes as well, but he had no practice at that and didn't trust himself to manage it in the moment. If a moment comes up. It might not.

He couldn't step outdoors, but he could certainly leave his room; the hallway was empty, but he could hear voices from off to his left. He turned that way, followed it down, and found a sort of communal living room with a large, flat-screen television playing on one wall. Couches and chairs were scattered around, along with a few side-tables. A woman and a child were sitting on one of the couches; both turned to look at him as he stepped into the room.

The child reached forward, picked up a remote, and paused the baking contest that was showing on the screen. Looking back, he said: "Take me with you, mister?"

Andy blinked at him. "I don't think any of us are going anywhere until we're ready."

The pale-skinned child blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. Sorry. Reflex. You're new."

Andy nodded at that. "Very new." 

The woman smiled. "Maria," she said. "Ghoul. And you must be the new wight we were expecting."

Andy nodded uncomfortably. The woman was what he would generally have classified as adult, without any idea of a specific age. "Andy," he said. "Don't let me interrupt you. I just couldn't sleep any longer."

"Yeah, it's a challenge," Maria said. "I can't sleep through the entire day, but I can't go outside in daylight yet. Tom, here, is the same. I'm hoping it'll be easier in the winter -- shorter days, longer nights."

The boy nodded. "You're another wight?"

"Entirely against my will, but yes," Andy said, forcing himself to meet those black eyes. "It's okay if you want to put your show back on."

The child-seeming boy nodded. "It's okay if you want to come sit with us."

Andy nodded and came forward, settling into a chair as the baking show began again. He had no particular interest in cooking, but the show was charming and he didn't mind the quiet company. It was a full half an hour later before a bell sounded over the speakers that he hadn't even noticed in the room.