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Sleep only lasted a few hours for Wyatt after Lukas left. When he did wake up, it was with a colossal headache not too unlike a mild hangover. He sat up and held his pounding head for a moment, before foggy memories of what had happened that night hit and he flopped back on to the bed with a groan.

He hadn't been fully there mentally at the time, but had become conscious enough to remember some things. And boy, was he feeling a lot of things about that - embarrassment, regret, anger, frustration.. There were some revelations to come to upon further examination as well but well....

He looked over at his bedside clock as saw that it was only a little after 3AM. A truly ungodly hour, although not one he wasn't somewhat familiar with back in his war 'glory' days. Now he tried to avoid it if he could. Now, head pounding and thoughts scattered, he knew there was no falling back to sleep. He needed to busy himself with something physically as he worked through his thoughts.

So, he got up, put on some pants and started baking. He started with making various cookie dough - chocolate chip, peanutbutter, snickerdoodle, and oatmeal pecan. After that he laid out plastic wrap, put parchment paper on top of that, and scooped the dough on to it, before rolling the dough up in it all cylinder like and stuffing it in the fridge. He did that for each kind. He'd bake it later.

Finally, and with a sigh....somewhere along the way he had decided that he'd make some cupcakes. Something special. An apology. He'd been an a**, and then had a total freakout on a particular someone. What he found hard to put in to words, he could hopefully make up for with food.

Everyone at the park really enjoyed his cherry kool-aid cake. Everyone except aforementioned person, who had not yet had the opportunity to try it. Everyone was quick to request it though for every and any occasion, and Wyatt had to remind them that it was only so good because the didn't get it often, and if he made it every time, they'd quickly tire of it.

Instead of making a cake, however, he was going to make cupcakes, and go all out on the topping. While the cupcakes baked Wyatt created a chocolate ganache and fluffy whipped icing, chopped some pecans, and made sure he had enough maraschino cherries. All things topped the cupcakes in due time.

Finding the cupcake container to hold the six he'd decorated he paused and gave them a look before putting on the lid which fit over them without smushing them. He looked at the clock again - almost 6AM..... Wyatt found himself hesitating. Looking for a reason to put this off. Luckily he had that cookie dough! He would get two trays in the oven before he left for the watchtower.

With that done, he all too soon found himself at the steps of the watchtower. One hand on the railing, and another holding the cupcakes, he took a deep breath, and ascended.

One thing came to mind halfway up the winding set of stairs - Lukas couldn't have chosen a place any further away from him, and still be on the property, if he tried. Not only was the tower on the exact opposite corner of the camp, but the height was just insult to injury. He was halfway up the last set of stairs when the man in question opened the door.

Well. He realized now he hadn't really planned for the actual interaction part of this. Lukas looked tired, but wasn't this guy used to making up early? Well, maybe he'd already completed some morning tasks and was just getting a few extra hours of sleep in. Something like that. Maybe. He sure had no clue. He really didn't know a whole lot about the guy who now knew far more about him than he knew about.

"Uh.... No, no help but yeah. Very anti-stairs. But..." Wyatt said somewhat awkwardly as he made is way up the last few steps, "I may have been a bit of an a** and said and did some things I shouldn't, so~"

He held out the container of cupcakes.

"And if that," a short nod towards the cupcakes, "doesn't do it, I've got cookies in the oven now so.... Yeah," an awkward shrug followed.

Ummm....

"And uh, don't tell anyone about those," again, a motion towards the cupcakes, "or they'll be begging more than they do already. I might have created a community monster with that 'recipe.'"

No doubt the word of the infamous cake had reached his ears.

All in all Wyatt was trying to act nonchalant, but this was also pretty awkward. Like, lame highschool freshmen boy asking the cute, popular, sophomore girl to homecoming awkward.

Look, no matter how minor the relation 'we need to talk' would never not be anxiety-inducing. Especially given Lukas' current mood. And to an already on-edge Wyatt, well....He kinda wondered if taking a dive off the side of the stairs would kill him, or just further cripple him....

Especially when he mentioned doing some digging.

It wasn't like Wyatt had made any effort to hid his abandoned social medias but like..... Who would really care to dig that up, had been his previous thoughts on the matter.

“Bake low and slow,” Wyatt muttered quietly, no eye contact, glance still cast to the railing. "When you bake at a lower temperature, you will get that perfect cookie with a soft center and crisp exterior......."

The mostly unnecessary explanation was probably some form of distancing while deflecting the accusation.

Wyatt exuded all the caution of a house cat with a distrust of strangers with the given situation, before wordlessly slipping past Lukas and through the opened door.

Well. No yeet now.

He did glance around a bit, doing his best to be discreet about it, but noted that the place....didn't seem suited to long-term living. Seeing some light through the boards in the wall.... The place wasn't even insulated. Definitely not winter-livable. Wyatt had to bite his lip to keep from going mom-mode and immediately turning the incoming conversation to the unfit state of this living space and what was going to happen to fix it, and now.

Holding to that awkward-casual demeanor he'd had earlier, Wyatt took a seat. Then a breath as the interrogation began. And just like Lukas, he'd get right to the point.

"Things I'm not telling my therapist because you don't mention hallucinations without coming out with medication...."

He did know that if he hadn't made the mistake of trying so hard to dissociate, he would have been able to hold it together and done of that mess would have happened.... But it did show him that there was no lingering desire to be wrapped up with that person again. If anything, being in that position again, in an unsteady, uncertain relationship, even if it was just in a split-second hallucination, was terrifying.

His mind had blanked out a while before that, then there was that sudden, terrifying sight burned in to his memory, then darkness again as he had gone in to a fit that he didn't remember, though his body had clearly felt the remnants of shortly after. It was a different brand of tense.

There may have been an eye-twitch at the name spoken out loud. Definitely a sobering little fire starter.

At least any of his more violent tendencies had an outlet in the form of beating the s**t out of Chaos-aligned space-terrorists. For anything else well, he at least did have a therapist. Even if there was only so much one could say to someone presumably not also part of the war. And if they happened to be, not knowing which side.

Wyatt just gave a bit of a dismissive huff of sorts and a shrug, "I've gotten help. Have help. Being considerate of timezones my therapist will be getting a call, so I'm getting help. I might be a mess, but at least I've got all that mess in trash bags, and those trash bags are in a neat little row. So..." Uh, where to take this metaphor... "I'm working on throwing all that out one bag at a time."

"Well, that's kind of the point of making an appointment. A nice long-distance video call session, just to tell them about my newfound phobia of being back in that situation," no mention of hallucinations or anything...unnecessary.

Then came an...unexpected admission. And Wyatt had to wonder what he had ever said and done to make Lukas like like him.

"Uhhh....."

Quick, find a distancing topic!

"You know, while I do find taking care of others a good way to distract myself from taking care of me, This place needs you healthy, and this tower doesn't exactly look like it's gonna be the healthiest place to spend the winter. And, you know, seeing as I do believe I am at fault for that, if you would like some help fixing up the place~" ugh, stairs, "I do have a truck. It's kiiiinda meant to haul things so like...picking up things to fix this place up - you can borrow it or like... I dunno, find a way to make it where I don't have to climb all those steps all the time and I'll lend a hand."

Deep breath.

"I know your little rules said no power tools for working around the camp, but I don't believe helping with your living space necessarily counts. If so, I'll content myself with a good old fashion hammer."

That was the only banging or nailing that would be happening around here any time soon.