Stepping off the path and into the forest, Hardin was forced to slow his pace a little, due to the brush in the way. His heart, however, went on racing. He hadn't been scrying Sydney often since their admission not long ago - he trusted Sydney far more than he ever had before. He hadn't been overly worried when Sydney hadn't returned from the previous afternoon's trip to the castle, for he did have a room there. It was only idle curiosity that had prompted him to see what Sydney was up to this morning, and what he'd seen had come as quite a shock. Gods, please, let him be all right...

When Hardin reached Sydney, he didn't appear to have moved since Hardin had Seen him from afar. Still he remained lying upon the bed of fallen leaves and late, nearly dead autumn grass, not moving in the slightest even as the leaves crunched under Hardin's feet as he approached. He did not even look up as Hardin knelt down beside him, and Hardin's blood ran cold - he had seen Sydney like this before, but always something unbearable had set it off. Had something terrible happened? Or worse yet, Hardin thought anxiously, Sydney had always been erratic, volatile - some might say unstable. Had his mind actually snapped...?

"Sydney," he whispered, and to his surprise, Sydney responded. Blinking in confusion, his eyes focused on Hardin's face, then glanced around, as if he'd been awakened from a trance. "Sydney," Hardin breathed in relief, placing a hand on his shoulder, cold from the exposure. "What has happened? Why are you out here...?"

Sydney hesitated, then shook his head before resting it back upon the ground, looking tired. "I... couldn't say. Gods, but I'm exhausted..."

He shivered a little as well, and immediately Hardin began to remove the jacket he wore, draping it over Sydney's shoulders as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. "No, no, John," Sydney protested weakly. "I will be fine. I cannot die of exposure, unlike - stop it!" he exclaimed with sudden fury as Hardin began to put his arms around the mage, offering more of his own warmth.

Hardin drew back quickly, startled by the outburst. Sydney looked as though he was on the verge of tears for some reason. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Sydney paused, and his eyes grew shielded again. "I am... not feeling well, forgive me..."

"It's no wonder, after spending the night out here at this time of year," Hardin muttered. What on earth could have driven him to do such a thing, anyway? "Let's get you home, where you will be warm."

Sydney shook his head as Hardin reached for him again. "No, please..."

"I'd like to take care of you," Hardin told him. "Please, let me care for you."

His eyes haunted, Sydney scratched deep furrows in the ground below him as his fists clenched fitfully. "I don't deserve such treatment from you."

This again, was it? Hardin sighed in frustration. "You know I don't believe that in the slightest. ...But if it makes you agree to it, then let me care for you for my own sake rather than yours. I love you, Sydney, and I want to help you to feel better."

After a moment's hesitation, Sydney lowered his head, giving in wordlessly. His body was rigid, tensed beyond belief in Hardin's arms, and Hardin rubbed his back gently, trying to relax him. "You'll feel better when you're someplace warm, no doubt," he murmured. "Sydney, whatever drove you to stay out all night?" He received no answer, aside from Sydney's shivering. "All right, then," he muttered, placing a gentle kiss atop Sydney's head. "It doesn't matter - let's go home. Can you walk?"

"I can do better," Sydney whispered, and then his soft voice sank into ancient Kildean, speaking words Hardin recognized after so many times. Light flared around them, and then they were in their bedroom.

Several minutes later, Hardin was standing outside the bathroom, listening to the sound of splashing as Sydney took a hot shower, for once listening to Hardin's suggestions. It would warm him up quickly, and then before he could grow chilled again, Hardin intended to bundle him into bed beneath good, heavy blankets. The real problem, he thought, was in trying to keep such a thing from happening again. He'd been pleased with himself for finding a solution to Sydney's unhappiness only a few days before, but apparently it hadn't worked so well after all.

How many times would he have to reassure Sydney that he was not hurting him? How many times would Sydney sink into these fits of depression before he realized that Hardin's love was not for only his good qualities, but his faults as well - every last bit of him? Perhaps he'd only made things worse by finally saying the words, Hardin thought. Perhaps Sydney now felt he was under more of an obligation than he had been before, even though nothing had changed apart from the level of their honesty with each other.

Sydney had been in the shower for a long time, Hardin realized. The sound of water falling was steady now, rather than the uneven sounds of Sydney washing beneath the drops, and for some reason, he found that ominous. "Sydney?" he called softly. There was no answer, and he called a little louder. "Sydney, are you all right?"

Still there was no sound but the steady sound of water, and Hardin grew more uneasy. Somewhat sheepish, he realized he was about to do something that sounded incredibly childish - he was going to use the Sight to spy on someone in the shower.

Looking inside, he found Sydney still standing in the shower, but every bit as unmoving as he'd been in the forest, his eyes once again empty as he gazed at nothing in particular. Steam had ceased to rise - the hot water had run out - but Sydney remained heedless of the droplets of lukewarm water that continued to splash upon his face.

What in the world was wrong with him? Worried, Hardin turned the doorknob, and found it locked. Finally he just pounded on the door, still scrying the interior. "Sydney!"

At the first loud thud on the door, Sydney seemed to be startled out of whatever state he'd slipped into, and he shook his head. Pushing the wet hair out of his face, he looked dazed as he answered. "Yes?"

Relieved, Hardin closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. "...I think you've used up all the hot water."

"Ah..." There was a faint squeak as Sydney turned the water off. "You're right. I'm sorry, I did not notice."

"It's all right - I think everyone else has had their showers for the day." Hardin stopped his scrying as Sydney stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. It was nothing he had not seen before, of course, but he'd already intruded enough for the day.

Sydney looked a great deal better when he exited the bathroom, rubbing at his hair with a towel. Hardin took over for him wordlessly. "Still tired?" he asked.

"No, not so much," Sydney murmured thoughtfully. "The shower seemed to wake me up somewhat..."

He still appeared slightly dazed, and Hardin prodded him gently towards the bedroom. "You don't look awake. Let's get you some rest - and you'll stay warm as well."

Sydney nodded vaguely, stroking his bladelike fingers through his hair in the absence of a comb. "I suppose you're right."

Following closely after the mage, Hardin almost knocked into him as he came to an abrupt halt just inside the doorway. "Stop hovering, John - I'll be perfectly fine, as well you know. Or do you have so little faith in the power the gods have given me?"

Despite the words, his voice did not sound annoyed, but merely tired. Hardin thought it would have been better if he had sounded angry. "I suppose it is foolish for me to worry, but regardless... if you are to live, I want your life to be a pleasant one."

Sydney smirked, just slightly, but with none of the usual mischief in his eyes that usually accompanied it. "I wonder just how serious you are about that."

"Very," Hardin assured him. "Gods, Sydney - I..." Hardin paused, for it was a thought he'd been considering for a long time, but much like the word 'love', it was a dangerous thing to say out loud. "...I think I would do anything, endure anything, if it pleased you."

Sydney frowned suddenly, sighing a little. "John, do you simply 'endure' the...?" He finished the question by lifting one claw to Hardin's throat, the point pricking the skin just barely.

Having grown accustomed to much more, Hardin barely felt it. "No," he murmured seriously; despite all the ways he had changed since meeting Sydney, it still shamed him a little to admit. "That... I enjoy."

If anything, Sydney looked more troubled, and it distracted Hardin from his own uncertainty. "You know I am not lying to you," he told Sydney softly. "I could not lie to you even if I wanted to."

"I know." Sydney turned away, looking to the bed. "...My hair is still damp, and I'm getting cold... I think I should lie down as you suggested."

Hardin nodded. "Would you like me to help keep you warm? Viktor is willing to watch Joshua for awhile - I asked earlier, in case you wanted company."

"You're too kind." There was no sarcasm in his words this time, but Sydney did not turn back to look at him as he lay down. "But there is no need. Thank you, regardless."

Hardin hesitated, looking over the slender figure lying limp beneath the blankets. "...Are you sure you won't tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened." Sydney did not move. "I'll be fine once I've slept, I'm sure."

"...All right, then," Hardin finally agreed. "Sleep well."

Sighing, he closed the bedroom door behind him as he left. He still had no idea what had brought this strangeness on, and although he was used to Sydney not telling him everything, it was rare that he should pretend that nothing at all was out of sorts. And why would he ask if Hardin enjoyed their... more violent pursuits? He could see Hardin's heart easily, particularly during those moments, when his barriers were eroded to nothing.

Perhaps, he thought, he should begin scrying Sydney more often. Anything to unravel this mystery, and find out if there was anything he could do to help.