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Abzu loved holiday pop-up shops.

There was something so unique and bright about them despite being very stereotypical each year. There were always several that offered sweet treats that for some reason had grown to be associated with the winter always. Always were some others that had some warm alcoholic liqueurs that could only be obtained when it was hard to say if the goosebumps were from the air or from the way the drink had delighted them. Still more that sold things that were savory instead of sweet, or craft goods with the craft drafts, or--

In any case, it was the sweets and the liqueurs that had pulled him out of the house today. At least, pulled him out longer than he had to be. It was way too cold to be acceptable--

In one brown bag were two tins of cookies. In the other was an apple cider liqueur that he had tried at the chalet and had immediately wanted to share with everyone else. It was so good it had brought a bit of a jaunty skip to his step.

Unusually good, even.

Luke would probably like some of the sweets. Maybe Pendour would like them too--

When he heard Pendour, he came to one conclusion.

He could always head back to the chalet. It was ridiculously chilly outside, but he'd cope with it, he guessed. (Or maybe he'd just tell Luke where it was and tell him to bring back something.) She needed the sweets and the warming drinks a bit more than his accountant. And friend, but that was muddying the waters at the moment. He had another friend in front of him that looked like she had gone through hell and back. Or maybe just the worst ******** exam to ever ask to exist.

Had he shown her his new fit yet? It was pretty recent...

She looked like she needed about twenty naps, some dinner, and maybe sixty more afterward.

"You doing alright?"

The answer to that was clearly no, but since he couldn't read minds, it gave him a place to start with his questioning.

"I got something to drink if you want to talk about it."

It was a very good drink. He was very happy to share it. Abzu wasn't sure what exactly it contained, but he had felt a bit brighter afterward. She looked like she might have needed that too, maybe before the twenty naps.

If Abzu hadn't already been convinced she didn't need a million naps, the way she looked at him, mouth slightly agape, confirmed that. His brows lifted toward his nasal bridge in concern--

Well. Maybe it was his outfit that she was gawking at? Definitely not, because he didn't see her look right away-- "Aye-aye," he winked at her. "Honestly, think getting some assistance with alla' this to thank for that." That was a compliment to Pendour's ability as a mentor, and for literally saving his life, but he wasn't sure how well it would land with how she looked at the moment.

Especially because she wasn't answering his question.

Instead, she wanted to know if he had seen any generals. He didn't think so? Nothing had set off his senses like a gaudy Dolce & Gabbana perfume. "Not that I've seen. Are you looking for someone?"

Abzu wasn't going to let her leave that easily.

"You did," because she had.

A nice little diddy on his saxophone had done nothing but gotten him in more trouble, but she had pulled him right out of it. And through her, Abzu found out a lot about being a knight that likely would have taken him an eon to stumble to on his own. Being a knight didn't come with a manual, and while there were pieces he had gotten to on his own, he knew how long that uptake took without some kind of surrounding backup.

There had been some pieces of the puzzle that others helped to fill in. She said Faustite, and he did recognize that name. When Realta had helped him gain access to the wider world of senshi communications, he had started looking through what that had given him. The Order Database was one of the first pieces. The descriptions of Faustite had been intriguing as much as they were a warning.

He hadn't the misfortune of running into any generals, really, although perhaps now that he was a squire that tune would change. He had run into people closer to his current stage as a page, after all.

Pendour's responses were as passionate as they were mired with the mud of exhaustion. Abzu took a closer step, both worried about what she was saying and worried she might imminently collapse. "I get it. The things these people are doing are endangering lives. More than just their own, as others try to find ways to stop them." There wasn't really a good answer to the problem of murderous generals on fire. Honestly, especially if they were escalating. They were becoming more of an issue, not the same or lessening. If she was acting like this, she had seen something awful, too. She had seen enough in this shitty war that he knew that had to be true.

"But Pen," he looked up to her, watched the way she wavered, watched the way she blinked, "you'll be able to protect people better and help make sure your best friend can keep his morals better if you don't fall asleep in the middle of your attempts. Sleep deprivation can make your function as impaired if not moreso than drunkenness." His brows knit in concern once more.

"It's a lot harder to help anyone without helping yourself, too."

He knew that for a fact. His charity work often revolved around the more obvious aspects of that: food, water, and shelter. Mental wellness was important for the strength to help others, too.

She melted right onto him, and Abzu compensated for it, shifting so she had the space to take as much room as she needed. He wrapped an arm around her waist, in part because their height differential made doing much more at this angle difficult, but also in part to help her keep her balance.

He appreciated that she was at least sleeping a little bit, in part because too long with no sleep led to hallucinations and general dysfunction and also eventual death. (That was why Abzu never risked it! Better to get plenty of sleep! Why risk being dysfunctional in the first place when he could just get comfortable and doze--)

What she was describing sounded absolutely bad. He knew some of these agents were absolutely terrible in the name of their terrible organization, but he hadn't yet been confronted with that level of it. To his credit, Abzu didn't waver. To some degree, it didn't even surprise him. "Look, I've been doing my best to stay far away from general auras. They're probably the most entrenched so the least likely to just want to listen to saxophone music."

He chuckled faintly, a ghost of a sound moreso about comfort than any kind of levity. "If I see a man of fire I'll run, alright?

"But if you don't get proper rest, the next one dead might just be you." Abzu hugged her just a bit closer to his side. "You'll lose focus and be unable to defend yourself or others at just the wrong time. You can help others better if you're in a state that enables it."

He smiled faintly. "Know you can save people. You've saved me. But you also did that with considerably more rest."

Abzu tilted the drink toward her.

"You've seen something traumatizing. Drink this, let yourself rest, and go back out rested enough that you're not a risk instead of a help. May even be able to help more people that way."

She thought? That was concerning. What had Faustite done to make her wonder if she may or may not have been useful? And if her position with him was that iffy, would she live through meeting up with him again?

She was staring at the cup and he was pretty sure she was also just considering what she had said, but perhaps it was for the best they moved on from that. More serious conversations could wait for when her condition was less overall dire. No, she wasn't in any immediate danger of dying, he wouldn't let that happen anyway. But she was also clearly critically low on sleep.

"Pen--"

But then she was sipping the drink.

She was sipping the drink, and then she was wobbling, and her eyes were closing, and Abzu scrambled to not only pick up what was left of the drink but also find a proper way to support all six feet of her with all five-foot-six of him. To be honest, he hadn't quite felt until that exact moment how much strength this new form provided him. If he was a civilian, he would have absolutely just dropped her--

Evidently, she could.

Abzu sipped the remainder of the drink and put the empty cup back in the bag containing the full bottle. He'd get her home. Somehow.

He took in a deep breath, steeled himself, and attempted to move her as best he could to somewhere safer, at least.

The least he could do.