It had been roughly an hour, by his count, since he had last yelled obscenities at that cloud. It had been taunting him, and taunting him, and teasing him, and, every so often snickering at him. Figuring he was about due another go, Mat dragged himself up from his sprawl against the building. Staggering like a drunkard, Mat lurched to his feet. Maybe he was a drunkard. He couldn't remember. He tried to sniff himself, but his nose was too cold and stiff. Creaking a purple and black rimmed eye up, he squinted into the sky, and that damned cloud.

It was going to ruin his day, sooner or later. He knew it.

He raised a fist, all the way to shoulder height, before his arm began to protest. Deciding that the cloud had learnt it's lesson, he slumped back against the wall with a sense of righteous satisfaction. Blinking five times in a row, Mat decided that was around three blinks too many, and gave himself a sharp slap in the face.

Sleep was for the weak. Sleep was for the weak. Sleep was wor the feek. Sleep wa--

He caught a glimpse of something approaching in the corner of his eye. With a sharp glance at the poor, poor efforts he had produced today, a concrete log, and some sort of bulgy penguin, he decided that a more direct approach would be needed today.

"HEYYOUGOTADOLLARLADY! IMMAHUNGRYMAAAAN!"

Yeah. That should do it.

...As she approached the mouth of the cave, the foulest of smells assaulted her nose. Goblins, the horrible creatures, and many of them. Elsa crept slowly forward, her enchanted dagger gripped in her hands. She dared not draw the blade yet, as it's song would surely attract the attention of an evil most foul...

..The Goblin King.

Her nose was buried deep within her latest book, one she'd stumbled upon in the library while researching some things. The main character was a strong willed woman fighting impossible odds, searching for a dragon that had kidnapped her brother So far she was seven chapters in, and it was heart wrenching. The author had a way of tugging her heartstrings, and the way he'd described the various monsters in the book was sometimes downright frightening.

It was nearly impossible to rip her eyes away from the page, as the hero was in the middle of sneaking through a goblin cave in search for a magic mirror. Would she manage to win a fight with the Goblin King? How could she stand against a whole army of drooling, savage monsters like that?

...dozens of them. Droves upon droves of the sticky, green skinned demons. They had gathered together within the largest of the caves, surrounding their enormous king in celebration. What was the occasion, though? Elsa had never hear of the foul beasts having celebrations of any kind, unless..

"..Oh no." Her horrified whispered was drowned out by a sudden screaming as three growling goblins dragged a bound woman out into the cavern. Elsa felt her heart leap into her throat, and she gripped her blade ever tighter. She could not simply watch as a woman was to be devoured. She must act! The Enchanted dagger emerged from it's silver sheath, and instantly its song sprang to life. It bounced off the walls, filled the entire cavern in the blink of an eye, and every single goblin head snapped in her direction. Elsa rose from her hiding place, her shining dagger held aloft above her head, and waited for the goblin hoard to descend upon he--

"HEYYOUGOTADOLLARLADY! IMMAHUNGRYMAAAAN!"

"EEEK! GOBLINATTACK!" The Gorgons book went flying, arching over her head as she flung her arms up in surprise. Wide eyed, with her glasses barely hanging onto her face, she pinned her eyes on the source of the shout. A man... A .. dirty, ragged looking man...

...had he just shouted that he was a 'hungry man' at her?

Squinting, with one hand settled on her chest to try and get her heart back in proper order, the Greek stared as she puzzled what had just happened. "W-what?" He was a mess, and obviously homeless. The state of his clothes, his hair... the layers of dirt on his face spoke volumes about it. Andrea couldn't stop herself from subconsciously taking a step back, and clutching at her coat pocket where her wallet resided. It took a moment for her to pull herself together enough to realize he'd asked her for money, and that she'd thrown a library book-- probably into a gutter.

"I... uh... yes?" Warily, she patted herself down for the change she knew he had on her, before realizing what she was doing. Here she was, confronted by someone less fortunate than her, and she was fumbling around in her pockets for quarters and dimes like a frightened rabbit. She quickly pulled herself together, shamed, and forced herself to pull out her wallet.

"s-sorry... you gave me quite a start. I was barely paying attention to where I was walking." Giggling nervously, she found a ten and fished it out. Sloth was woken by her nervous giggling, and when her emotions hit him he was on high alert. "Here, I hope this will help you in some way."
She held it out, but couldn't manage to get herself to take a step toward him. Sloth shifted around her shoulders, tiny tongue furiously lapping at the air. He recognized the human... though he was much, much smellier now than before. He was probably lucky he hadn't eaten him the first time.

Andrea's gaze dropped to where the man has surely been seated, or standing, onto the strange clumpy, lumps of something sitting there. Was that a bird of some sort? It was... cutely fat.

A strange feeling of recognition dawned on her. She'd... she had seen this man somewhere before, hadn't she? Squinting, she leaded a little closer against her better judgement and pursed her lips. Where had she...

.....Wait..

Her surprise tripled, and her heart started hammering again. "M-Matt...?" No, surely it wasn't! She hadn't seen hide nor hair of him in a year or more... could this truly be him?

He blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Gears ground, fighting the rust. His mind dragged itself to a slow conclusion. Green. Greengreengreen. He knew...deep down, recognised that colour. That distinctive colour...

Cash!

Grinning widely, maybe madly who could tell, Mat swiped the note from the woman. With a small giggle to himself, he stuffed the note into his pocket. How had that worked? In hindsight, it was a bold, some would say...unsettling tactic. But somehow he had scared a bill out of a woman. He had to be some sort of genius, it had to be said. His hand was still in his pocket when he heard something startling.

Matt?

Glancing up, Mat blinked the haze from his eyes, from his mind. Green. Green, with...

Sloth.

Tired eyes widened. Mouth twisted in sudden cold shame. A wash of sickness tided through his body. His knees buckles, and he was pretty sure he swooned a little. A manly swoon, it had to be said. When he spoke, he knew he had to handle this situation very, very delicately. As bad as he felt now, and he did feel bad, Mat had a shred of dignity left. He could smooth over this awkward situation with the one person he had considered some form of friend even though he had only met her twice and had accidentally ratted her out to a psychopathic son of a--

"I don't know you Andrea...I mean...lady! And my name's not Mat, it's..."

Think Mat, think.

"Sloth..."

...

....

Damn.

She watched his expression shift and felt her stomach flip-flop. It really was him! Joy bloomed for a moment, after all she hadn't seen him in a very long time... but then she took in his ragged appearance once more and the happiness quickly fluttered away. "Oh... Matt..." It was but a whisper, but she couldn't stop herself from uttering it. What had he been up to since she'd last seen him? How could he have gotten this way? Guilt rushed to fill in the hole left by fleeing happiness, and she gripped her hands together tightly. She hadn't even tried to find him again... how could she consider herself a friend of his if she hadn't even tried to help him? Maybe if she had kept in contact.. or... or tried to find him... maybe he wouldn't be sitting on a sidewalk all alone.

"I don't know you Andrea...I mean...lady! And my name's not Mat, it's... Sloth..."

Her lips pursed momentarily, and for the briefest moment she might have actually believed him. It would have been much more comforting for this person not to have been Matt... but it was hard for her to overlook the fact that it was. "...Matt..." She took a step toward him, her book and fear forgotten. "What has happened to you?"

She attempted to wipe the concern off her face that she knew had settled there, but just couldn't manage to get a smile out. It was too distressing seeing someone she cared about in such a manner... especially when she has just practically treated him like a monster. The guilt tripled and she halted immediately. She'd been terrified by Matt... the same guy who had delighted her with pretty little statues and a Wiley sense of humor. So scared she'd been too afraid to approach him. When has she become such a coward?

"..I... I am so sorry.... I didn't--" Don't finish that sentence! Don't tell him you didn't recognize him you idiot! "...I should not have...have..." Oh lord, did she feel terrible now. "..I am so sorry..." Sloth edged over her shoulder, leaning himself out toward the man. With one beady orange eye angled his way, he gazed for a moment without moving, then flicked his tongue out at him in greeting.

Damndamndamn.
The sleep addled mind is not your friend. The sleep deprived mind is not your friend. The sleepless mind is--

Why did she looked so sad? It hurt him to see that expression on her face. Hurt even more to know that he was the cause. What sort of sick hobo yells at a woman, at a friend? He stared for a moment, then looked at his feet. His Chucks were worn down, and the pink sock he had found showed through a hole on the side.

Then she did something that threw him. Something that made him, despite himself, laugh. She apologised. To him.

To be fair, it was somewhere between a laugh and a weep. A manly weep.

I, uh... It's a costume. I'm...auditioning...for....a.... Broadway show. I mean an opera. It's called...the Vagabond Jam-along....featuring....Robert....Cruise...Abdul'Jabar....

He felt his mind recoil as the words spewed forth of their own accord. Each one, barging past his tongue and out into the open. And each word was like a sharp, distinct kick in the groin. Pausing a moment, he tried to gather some form of cohesion, even if for only one sentence.

"You're prettier when you smile, y'know."

He... laughed? Her expression shifted to puzzled, and she blinked. "An.. Opera?" Both her eyebrows vanished into her bangs, and she stared at him mutely.

..Wow.. she'd never known that he sang, or acted for that matter!

Her cheeks darkened considerably while she attempted to process this new information. If it was as he said it was, and there was really no reason not to believe him... so she would, then he obviously took the part seriously. Very seriously. "Oh? I have not ruined anything, then... have I? I do hope I am not making you break character or something..."

She managed a smile, which was small at first... until he mentioned that last bit about being pretty. Then her cheeks flared dark brown and she went back to shifting on her feet and clutching her hands together nervously. "Thank you... " Jeeze, an actor? She'd never have guessed.

"Um.. I suppose I should apologize for mistaking you for.. well... you know, but I guess that was the purpose." Her smile returned and she pulled Sloth back toward her, "... So maybe I should congratulate you on being very convincing, instead?" She eyed him some more, her brows furrowing in thought, but shrugged it off. It didn't matter if something didn't seem right, right? Matt would tell her if something was wrong, she was sure of it. She turned to look for her book instead of voicing any of the questions on her mind, and found it hanging half off the sidewalk by the road.

"It is very good to see you, you know? I have not seen you in quite a while!" Dusting the book off after retrieving it, she snapped it closed and held it to her chest, angling a smile Matt's way. "You simply must tell me what you have been up too! Auditioning and such must be quiet an adventure... I never would have pegged you for a singer. Are you a tenor? Baritone? ...or... Alto, maybe?" She giggled, imagining him singing ballads in a pitch higher than she could go.

She...believed him?

Really?

Gaping dumbly, Mat gave a slow, stupid nod. "Of...course?

How could she possibly fall for that?

"I'm an....uh...sopranitone...

Was she taking the piss? Or did she honestly think that he was telling the truth. A leaden weight was growing in Mat's stomach. His mouth felt awfully parched, and he could feel himself sweating despite the chill in the air, his face turning red with shame, guilt and...some other indescribable thing. More guilt, perhaps. Who could be sure? It was getting hard to catch his breath. He'd thought to charm her with his comment, but it'd only seemed to make her anxious. Made sense. He wasn't the most flattering of sights.

"I've, ah...I've been around. Doing...stuff. Damn it, Macguire, put a sentence together. He sniffed and, tried to straighten himself, but wobbled and slumped back against the stone wall. The buildings were closing him, almost as fast as the concrete pavement seemed to be turning into quicksand. Or maybe he was sliding down the wall? Righting himself, once more, he tried to force a smile, but knew that it wasn't a convincing one. "You know how it is. On the movemovemovemovemove. Gotta stay busy or else... Or else... Idleness kills, and killing time is idle. Gotta stay occupied or else you'll fade away. Dust, you know? Dust! Fade away...to dust. I, uh... He was rambling. "'Cause, y'know... I've been so busy...opera...ing."

Things were unraveling fast.

"It is very good...to see you, Andrea. A sincere, coherent thought had slipped past his lips. A little slice of honesty. Mat glanced at his shoes once more, that pink sock taunting him, mocking him. "I'm glad you're safe."

He... he didn't sound alright at all. The flush and nervousness dropped away as concern set back in. "Matt?... Are you alright?" He seemed to be supporting himself on the wall an awful lot.. and it didn't seem like any sort of act. Andrea closed the space between them quickly, unsure if she should lift a hand to him or not. He seemed to be supporting himself still, maybe he had tripped?

"... have you been sleeping? Eating?" He did look awfully thin. She'd read about actors who took roles way too far sometimes. Her lips set firmly into a thin line, and she speared a look at him he probably couldn't see through her glasses. "Matt, if you have not been taking care of yourself for some role or something, so help me I will drag you to the closest restaurant and shovel food down your throat!"

He was kind of starting to worry her... beyond simple appearances and wacky back-stories.

"It is very good...to see you, Andrea. I'm glad you're safe."

The thin, stern line of her lips drooped into a frown. Okay, now she knew something was wrong... she could feel it. Her hands settled on her hips in a way that screamed i-am-not-leaving-until-you-tell-me-what's-going-on, and her accent kicked back in momentarily as she fell into mom-mode.

"Matt..?"

She was doing that thing that people did. The stern, hands-on-the-hips faux-angercare that meant you were supposed to fess up about whatever was bothering you. A maternal gesture that usually meant you were supposed to open yourself up. It made Mat feel sick, ill in the gut. He didn't want to spill, didn't want to fess.

He couldn't help but shake his head when she had asked if he was sleeping, was eating, though. That little slip of information came unbidden.

What had he been doing the last... The last...

What was the date? How long had be been wandering the streets now? Somewhere along the line, hours had started running into days running into months. Had be been taking care of himself? Well.... That was highly debatable. He was alive, so there was some testiment to his duty of care, not counting the dubiousness of that claim. But, wasn't he living the dream? Didn't he have freedom, and no self imposed shackles to tie him down? Alive was alive, not dead.

He had a pretty good inkling that he wasn't dead.

So. Why did he feel bad all of a sudden. Why was the bridge of his nose tightening? Why were his eyes stinging? Why was his throat constricting? What was that moisture on his cheeks, in his eyes?

Was he crying?

He lifted a shaking (when had that started?) hand to his mouth, and chewed anxiously at his nails. Gnawed, bit, gnashed at them.

"I, uh.... I'm..." Softly he shook his head. "How are you?"

When in doubt, deflect, deflect, deflect the question.

Oh.. oh no... She'd upset him? She'd upset him! What had she said?! The Greek was caught off guard and didn't know what to do. Matt was obviously not okay... but she just couldn't figure out why. Without putting much thought into it, she did what felt natural to her by throwing her arms around him and embracing him in a tight hug.

Maybe it was her fault somehow that he was upset, or maybe it wasn't... but she'd never been very good with words. Especially when it came to making people feel better, or diffusing situations. She generally ended up flying by the seat of her pants when things got confusing and just hoping everything turned out all right. Right now.. well, she figured that maybe avoiding the situation would be better than pressing the subject. She knew from dealing with Saph's questions about the Lion man that being pinned to the spot was uncomfortable and distressing.

"I have been fine, I guess... I have only just recently returned from Greece from, eh... a family visit." If you could even consider it that. Stepping away, she fiddled with her book and smiled at him. "I was actually on my way to meet up with someone before I ran into you." Speaking of... how late was she? After fishing her phone out, the digital display informed her that she was oh, only an hour-- HOUR LATE?!

She cringed. That... could not be good. But.. well, he probably wouldn't be too worried yet.

... Right?

Fixing her eyes back on Matt, she pushed the matter of being late away for the moment. "I was serious about that food thing, by the way. I would not mind at all if you would come with me for a bite to eat. It would be just like last time! Only, well... Saphirus would be there as well. I do not think I have mentioned Saphirus... The more the merrier, though, right?"

The phone in her hand vibrated right then, and the tune of 'It's Raining Men' sprang to life. Saph's picture popped into existence on the screen of her phone and she smiled. "Speak of the devil!"

"Wh...What are you doing? What--"

Arms snaked around him, tighter than Sloth's first embrace all those months—years?—ago. His slender frame froze, tightened, turned to stone. He wanted to squirm, to shake, to tear away from this strange, unfamiliar contact. To thrash, and flail, and rip himself from those small, caring arms. But he couldn't. He didn't know how. And even if he did, he was not sure he wanted to.

How long had it been since he had had contact with another person, that wasn't a fist, or a boot to the face?

When she released him, his chest seized up so hard that, for a moment, Mat actually thought he would have a heart attack.

And despite everything, despite his looks, his smell, his ramblings, and incoherency, Andrea actually invited him to eat with her. Like the first time, only with more company. Saphirus? What on earth was a Saphirus? His fingers tingled, and he became acutely aware of the money sitting in his pocket, burning, burning like a hot coal. He should have given it back, but his shamelessness won out. Besides, it would have drawn attention to...well, everything up to this point.

He opened his mouth to reply, and music came out. It's raining men? Mat blinked, once, twice, four times, before realising that Andrea's phone was ringing. Man, phones these days were a breed of their own. Where they used to simply ring, and maybe vibrate, new phones flashed up all sorts of crazy lights, and sounds, and pictures...

His blood froze.

That face.

That face...

There were many things in this world that Mat had forgotten. The sound of his sister's laugh. Pythagoras theory. What month it was.

But he wouldn't forget that face.

With a suddenness that defied his disorientation, Mat snatched the phone from Andrea's hands, and pressed the answer button, adopting an accent that belonged to no region, nor nation. He spoke into it, his voice tight, and frantic.

”Heeeeeello? You want pizza, yes? No pizza! No pizza! English, no, no, very bad! Okaythankyoubyebye!” Mat hung up the phone, not sure whether or not the other end had even tried to speak. Wild-eyed, Mat glanced around, craning his neck franticly. He stepped forward, grasping Andrea by the shoulders.

”We have to go, Andrea. Now. We gotta go. We have to leave. Andrea. We gotta go."

He had failed to protect her from that psychopath once. He moved his hand to take hers, to drag her away, the phone clenched tightly in his opposite fist.

He'd be damned if he wasn't going to save her this time.

She was already going over in her head how she wanted to tell Saph that Matt would be joining them, when the phone was snatched swiftly out of her hand. Stunned, she watched in muted silence as her friend answered her call, used a very bizarre accent to ramble about Pizza... and then quickly ended the call without any explanation of what had just happened.

Before a question could even form on her lips, Matt had grabbed her by the hand and she was pulled along behind him. They had to leave, he said, now. Why?... and where too? He was obviously spooked, but by what, she didn't know. Worry wormed it's way past surprise, but she couldn't bring herself to resit being tugged along to wherever he was taking her.

Something just wasn't right with Matt, and she wasn't about to abandon him until she figured out what that was, and how to fix it.

"Matt..." Block by block, through barely used alleys and side streets, she was led away from the part of town familiar too her. In a short span of time Andrea found that she didn't recognize any of the buildings around her, and she couldn't get words out between breaths to ask about it.

When her legs started to tire and she nearly tripped, she decided enough was enough. "Matt! What is wrong? Why did you grab my phone like that?"

He had no idea where he was, or where he was going. Or why he was going, now that he thought about it. How could he know where they were from just one phone call? And yet... Walking meant that he could buy time, delay having to explain anything to Andrea. Delay having to figure out just what the hell he was doing.

>>>"Matt..."

If he walked for long enough, and far enough, maybe, just maybe there would be a way to salvage this situation. He could explain that it was all part of his non existant opera, and that he was inviting her along to be lead soprano. She would have to pass the auditions of course, and...

>>>"Matt! What is wrong? Why did you grab my phone like that?"

He paused, turning around to look at the flushed, green gorgon. He tried to muster some levity into his voice, but found it spluttering out and dying, like an old motorcycle.

"It's, um.... It's..... Um.... Andrea, I'm sorry! I tried to stay strong for you, but he broke me, the...BASTARD! He broke me... Matt wiped at his face with the sleeve of his grimy flannel. "But I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you... Don't worry, I'll look out for you, Andrea. I'll...

He paused mid-sentence, losing his train of thought. He glanced up, peering over her his shoulder. Without thinking, his grip tightened on Andrea's hand.

Where the hell was he?

"It's, um.... It's..... Um.... Andrea, I'm sorry! I tried to stay strong for you, but he broke me, the...BASTARD! He broke me..."

She was stunned. The raw emotion seeping from him; the words he was saying. She stood there breathlessly, unable to move while she tried to figure out what he was saying. Someone had broken him? For her? who..? Who on earth would push such a sweet young man into.. into this?

"But I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you... Don't worry, I'll look out for you, Andrea. I'll..."

"It... It is okay.. Everything will be okay." She took a step toward him, wanting to calm him down and reassure him, but ended pulling herself closer and locking him in another hug. She was frightened, honestly... She had no idea what to do, or say, to make everything better again.

"Who was it... Who hurt you?" The grip she had on him tightened as he had tightened his grip on her hand. The idea of her friends being hurt, in any fashion, made ugly feelings swell in her chest. Her mind buzzed with possible culprits, faces she couldn't peg to names and vise versa. The one face that stood out chilled her to the bone, but it was the only one that made sense to her. Had the Lion man she'd escaped from attempted to track her down? Had he somehow found out that Matt knew her? How...?

The very notion made her feel sick, but she tried to hold herself together. Her friend needed her strong right now, and damn it she wasn't going to let him down! So she swallowed her suspicions and glanced around, spotting a doorway to the side that wasn't quite shut. They both needed to sit down and talk things out, and considering the way he was craning his neck this way and that, perhaps it was best to do it in-doors and off the street.

"Maybe we should go inside, find somewhere to sit down, no?" Stepping back slightly, she tugged at him gently to follow her and headed for the doorway.

He was vaguely aware that Andrea was speaking to him in concerned tones, but her soft voice was competing with the distortion in his mind. A roar in his ears, like the hissing of the sea. He felt her arms snake around him once more, only this time he couldn't even muster the will to want to fight them off. This time, without thinking, he returned the gesture, still glancing nervously up and around. Held in Andrea's embrace, some of the haze seemed to lift. His mind seemed to clear, even if only by a minute amount. Calmed by her hold, Mat tried to fight down the mad twitches that were running through his body.

>>>"Maybe we should go inside, find somewhere to sit down, no?"

He felt himself drift along, guided by her hand. This time, she was dragging him along, and all her could do was nod dumbly, and focus on the small hand that was now directing him. They pushed through the door, which opened to a dirty, stained whitewash stairwell. Mat climbed the first three of the chipped-linoleum stairs, before turning on the spot and sitting on the fifth step. He noticed belatedly that he was still holding Andrea's phone. Like a guilty child, he offered it back to the woman.

"I, uh... I'm sorry." His brow furrowed as he tried to muster the words. "That guy..." he nodded towards the phone.

A creeping thought was worming it's way through Mat's head, burying itself. She had been ready to answer that psychopath's call, without hesitation. In fact, now that he was taking the time to consider, Mat could vaguely remember seeing a smile on her face as that ringtone had started up.

That didn't seem like the behaviour of someone who was afraid of a psycho ex. People didn't smile when being contacted by somebody they were running away from...

"Who is he to you, Andrea?" Mat asked, pointing a shaky finger to the phone.

He dreaded the answer.