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Ceres could feel the tension in her shoulders release as Molly confirmed that she had his items in her possession. Even her own flaring temper quickly ran back to its hiding hole, and left her feeling a little bit sheepish. Relief flooded through her next, she even had to bite back a small laugh at Bix's reaction.

She glanced towards Molly while Bix was gathering her things, and gave the other girl a warm hearted smile before mouthing 'thank you' wordlessly. She did not feel as if the situation really called for speaking.

Scooting around behind him Ceres made a attempt to pick up anything he left behind, or dropped, which basically was only a few things here and there. Being in Deus they REALLY did not own a lot a things. Scooting around once more behind, she gave the white haired man a view of the area to prove she had indeed gotten everything off the floor.

If Bix had been in a better mood he would have definitely made a ghost noise and wiggled his fingers for effect. Unfortunately he was very focused on getting back to his room.

Bix at least had enough restraint to walk instead of running like a madman. Well, if Ceres wasn't there maybe he would have acted more like a madman but he was making a concerted effort not to appear too insane.

The walk to his room was silent except for the brisk opening and closing of doors. Bix was focused on his goal and only after getting back to his room, bumping his way in, and dropping his boxes on the floor, did he even turn to look at Ceres.

The empty room wasn't perfect but now that he had his things it felt more like 'moving back in' than it did that he was simply DEAD. The adrenaline of his feelings and rushing around seemed to wear off. Laying on his back for a week hadn't seemed to rest him at all. Bix took a few steps to his makeshift couch, and slumped into it with a hung head.

"I'm sorry." It figured that it would be the first thing he said. Bix was sure immediately she'd hate that he said it, she always yelled at him for apologizing too much. He was sorry for being crazy. Sorry for not holding it together as well as he should be.

He rested his head against Ceres' and snaked his arm around hers to clutch her hand again. He was restraining his need to cling to her like a child. She currently was the only person he had to talk to, relate to. He was afraid of scaring her away with the momentary neediness he felt. The inability to process his own death and the absence of Mina to help him cope, left a desperation he was a bit afraid to talk about.

Suddenly, randomly in classic Bix fashion, he wondered if his sheets were still on the bed. Hiding in it lost it's appeal if he had to make the bed first.

He felt like cowering under a blanket for a while.

Bix just shrugged. He wouldn't say out loud he'd acted crazy. Why point it out further if she was being nice enough to ignore it?

Given the chance to rest, his own room finally holding familiar things, Bix was calming down. How would others react? He didn't have many very close ties, just a handful. "I don't think most people would be phased." Hadn't they seen people 'die' and come back before? Granted there weren't always corpses involved but Bix currently had no idea that he had a headstone and everything.

How would he react if one of his friends came back? Relief? Anger? "But it may not be great. Molly is... well she just doesn't get mad."

Bix lifted his head from Ceres a moment. As he mulled it over he tried to imagine himself, battle weary, losing a friend in front of his eyes, seeing them laid out on a slab. Maybe he'd expect them back. Maybe it wouldn't sink in. And then a couple days goes by and they aren't back. He felt a desperate pit in his stomach, sinking and awful. When the couple days turns into a week and then you just know, you finally mourn. They are really dead. How would he be? If it was Gale. Or if he'd lived and seen Ceres fall?

Bix face burned, not in a blush, but in frustrated emotion. Everything bubbled up, and he didn't know whether to cry or scream or just celebrate that he wasn't really dead.

The young man turned his head, broke his grip on her hand, and tilted Ceres face so he could kiss her gently on the mouth. It was firm and emotionally desperate, his breathing had almost stopped due to the weight of feeling settled on his chest. After a few seconds, his lips feeling almost on fire, he broke it and held her cheek, resting his forehead on hers. Bix had his eyes closed, almost afraid to look into hers. "It sounds morbid but I'm glad I died with you. I'm not sure I could handle it, if I'd lived to see you fall. Maybe it's too much for me to feel but.. I feel selfishly glad I didn't have to see that.Or Gale. Or Before." His heart thudded in his ears. "To fail you that way."

Bix suddenly grasped, only slightly, how someone like Gale would be feeling right now. He remembered himself suddenly diving front of Red's fire and it was overlayed like a photoshop effect, him doing it twice. The first time for Before and this time.... He'd gotten a flash of his last memory. He'd thrown himself over Ceres during the battle. Bix tilted his head guiltily. Did he behave that way because he was too scared to face the reality of his loved ones dying first?

Bix was relievedin a way, that they didn't need to rethink whatever these feelings for one another they had. Sometimes trauma could warp things, change them, but the pair of them seemed to easily step over the hurdle. Maybe a relationship discussion would follow later but for now it was nice to just be. It felt natural. He wasn't nervous or awkward. Perhaps out in public he would be, but here and now this felt right.

When Ceres clung to him his quavering uneasiness subsided. He wrapped his arms around her back and as soon as he felt that single wet spot on his shirt his manly instinct went into overdrive. His own whining seemed to fall by the wayside. Even if it was one single tear, no man could stand seeing a woman cry.

Bix leaned to peer into his bedroom, glad to see a comforter falling sloppily off one side of the bed. He didn't give Ceres a chance to argue, the archer scooped her up in his arms like a bride, and carried her into the bedroom. He didn't say anything and after he'd left her in the bed he went back to his boxes. The young man returned in a pair of shorts, crawled into the bed beside her, and wrapped her in his arms. Of course the blanket also was yanked up around them in a cocoon.

With it all done, there was a loud sigh of relief. Maybe this was all he needed. "Better?" He tangled their legs together.

Bix waited for Ceres to settle before he also relaxed fully. His free arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her secure in his grasp.

Now settled his brain seemed to be moving a mile a minute. It was exhausting. He didn't want to wonder anymore about what happened and why. He wanted to rest from the constant work it was to try and remember. As his mind whirled, Ceres spoke up about not sleeping.

"You don't have to sleep." He willed it away, the want to remember. He focused only on laying. Sleep. Sleep could be nice. "Don't have to talk. We can just lay here if you want." Eventually exhaustion would take them anyway, wouldn't it?

He couldn't assure her that everything was alright quite yet... he just didn't know for sure that it was. Instead, he kissed her forehead. "Whatever you want."

"Not sad." Bix closed his eyes and suddenly remembered the letter he'd written again. "I... " He paused. She didn't want to talk about it but now he felt worse. "When we'd been talking about me finding out about my relative? Cause of that letter?"

Bix burrowed himself further into the blanket and snugger into Ceres. He'd closed his eyes but wasn't sleeping in the slightest. "Well it made me think about what would happen. If I .." Died. "So I wrote a letter. I was going to write one before every mission. Just in case something happened, so that I got to say what I wanted and.."

He sighed. "Well my stuff was gone. Someone got that letter. Clearly they thought we were really gone." And now they were back. Alive. His gushy feelings had been looked at by someone and he didn't even have the courtesy to stay dead. "I think people will be angry with me."

There wouldn't be much sleep to be had. Not for a few nights at least, but at least for the pair when there was any doubt about living or any nightmare about frigid enclosed spaces, there was always a warm reassuring body there and a pleasant weight to remind them that they were safe and breathing.