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His eyes glanced at her gratefully. It was really nice when she used his real name. Especially when he was feeling this way. "I-it's fine... I mean, she didn't go through with it, right? She led me on the entire ********' game but she didn't...didn't do it.." Whether he was trying to comfort her, or his own nerves, was a blurred line.

Otto suddenly tried to flip the conversation, his nerves making his hand shake. "M-me and um.. Gale got all the other hunters who fell durin' the games out of their nightmare pods before we left back for Deus. So, um... Durin' that time is when Sam got hurt. I dunno what happened or who got her. I saw Charlotte get her head blown off before that. Mark was fine the entire time. The dirtbag is a ********' cockroach." He was rambling, fidgeting with his hands, his mind always returning to the questions in his head that asked why. Why the circles did all of that. Why Sam was a part of it. Why Sam was going to kill him for that game. Why Sam didn't go through with it.

"But.. it's fine!" His voice squeaking suddenly gave way to his lie. "I'm not dead, and Sam is very dead. Sucks to be her!"

Otto's rambling stopped once his head was guided to her shoulders, his posture relaxing as her hand rubbed his back. Her voice was like therapy, her touch like magic. Despite all of the troubles and tears in his heart, this was all he wanted. Someone he trusted enough to see him break down, a safe place to be open with his feelings. He often wished he just never felt anything. He tried. But he wasn't a robot that could shut himself off. His hands came up to grip the fabric hugging her shoulders.

Eva hadn't been there for him. Not back then. But she was here now. She was right here now, and even though the hurt and pain wouldn't go away, they didn't hurt quite as much.

"It's okay... thank you." He murmured quietly, his eyes closing softly. "I needed this... I think." Venting it. Everything. It didn't make it go away. But there were only so many people he could go to with his worries, and most times he just didn't want to bring it up. Somehow, it all came out without meaning to, like a bucket stuck under a running faucet.

Otto managed a short smile, nodding his head softly after the kiss to the forehead. Anytime. He'd always have a hard time asking for help, or approaching her when he felt he needed to vent. But the option was there.

Confiding in someone. Trusting them with his feelings. He'd done it before, right? It was a hard and long jump for him. He rarely ever had people like this. People who were there for him, unconditionally there for him. No matter what worried him.

A light seemed to go off in his head. Something clicked. He remembered something. A memory that had been taken away.



A memory of Molly. He'd gone to her with worries that he was sure would seem trivial to others. He expected to be laughed at, made fun of, but Molly in all her motherly glory accepted him with open arms. Cupcakes, hugs and sweet words filled his heart with ease and joy. It was okay to open up, even though he found himself getting betrayed by others who didn't deserve his trust.

Otto seemed to smile softly, a weight lifting off his shoulders.

He shook his head, and nodded. "A tour. Yeah, sure. I'm sure the magazines are hidden enough." He joked back, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. "Um.. well, this is the livin' room here. It came with this cool couch and huge TV. And.. the kitchen's got an island, a stove and a fridge. I only have like.. soda and snack in there though." Cooking plus Otto wasn't a mixture that worked. His best efforts were better used in the making of sandwiches.

"Drums are still safe and sound." He gestured as he passed his beloved instrument, on his way to the other two rooms. "In here's the bathroom. It's friggn huge. Got a shower and a bathtub. Like.. separate from each other." This was novel.

"My bedroom's over here. Bigger bed. Walk in closet... Sometimes Jeremy hides in there like he owns the damned place. Friggin rat."

"Good thing they aren't." Otto liked his room bum free. His gaze fell to Eva, who seemed to be plotting something. Something stupid. Very stupid.

"What're you doin', Eva?" He asked in a flat tone, giving her a look. He looked at his bed, and back to her. "Don't go under the bed. Pretty sure that's where them magazines are."

"I... think Molly's been cleaning my room... and doing my laundry." It was always folded with the care only a mother could give. It had to be Molly. No one else would do that for him. Especially since he didn't even ask.

"I haven't had to clean a thing---" He narrowed his eyes again, "Eva!" He snapped his fingers. "Don't pull a Jeremy. All you gotta do is ask and you can stay over. Don't be a creeper under the bed."

It would be surprising to Otto. He'd never seen her sneak into his room while he slept before. At least, he didn't remember such a thing.

"You wouldn't know reasonable if it was spelled out for you." He smirked lightly, turning to head back to the kitchen. "Come on. I'll make you somethin' to eat. You gotta be hungry, yeah?"

Otto gave her a sassy over the shoulder look that saw through her bull s**t. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He turned again, opening his fridge to the minimal fixings he had. Power was on and off so often, he chose not to keep anything too perishable.

"So uh... Peanut Butter okay? It's pretty much all I got. And crackers. So like.. less of a sandwich and more like let's dip crackers into a thing of Peanut Butter...." He took them out and set them on the island, where three stools sat in a row to choose from. "And you got a choice between Orange Juice, Root Beer or Dr. Pepper."

Otto set down their elegant meal in front of the two of them, sitting down along with Eva. His own feet abstained from childish kicking in favour of hooking behind the metal bars.

"So uh.. cheers. Welcome home, Eva." He gave a soft and uncertain smile, offering to clink soda cans with her.