Denouement

Three weeks. Theo hadn't been to work in nearly three whole weeks; time off turned into sick days turned into a leave of absence, all while Theo languished in his room and felt sorry for himself. Well, that's not exactly true. The feeling sorry for himself bit, yeah, but he hadn't been in his room the entire time. He'd eventually been drawn out of the house, into the garden, with promises of pie; and eventually, away from the house entirely and back into the world, with promises of mad science and cuddles. With lots of help, Theo was back hesitantly on his feet again, though incredibly wobbly and apt to fall back down at any time. But he knew if he didn't consciously pursue a sense of normalcy, he would never feel it again (not his own thought, of course; that, too, was put there with lots of help from others). So, Theo was scared and sick and nervous, but he was going back to work today.

He actually managed to get all the way to the plain Muggle entrance of the hospital before it really kicked in. The sweats, the increased heart rate, the need to vomit...all triggered by a plain storefront and a couple of mannequins. Theo squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself through the window - but the very smell of the hospital air sent his head spinning. Nope. Nope. He couldn't do this. He couldn't breathe, his throat closing up; without even opening his eyes, Theo stumbled right back out the window from whence he came.

He also stumbled right into someone, a figure bouncing off of him as he reappeared back on the sidewalk. That was going to be hard to explain, his having come from the window...Theo opened his eyes to find, with some relief, not a Muggle but a Malfoy, who was busy regaining his balance from their collision. Theo busied himself with regulating his breathing until the blonde bloke spoke to him. "Yeah, my fault," he murmured sheepishly, looking anywhere but at Draco, scouting out his escape. But there really was no escaping, was there? No one from St. Mungo's besides Mali had seen him in three weeks. Awful strange for him to show up in front of the place now, only to be running away again.

Theo forced himself to look at Draco who, upright once more, was now busy giving him snark. Theo really was blessed, when he thought about it; the sass made all of this so much easier, he'd found (thanks, Mali), and here was the king of it himself, ready to unknowingly coax Theo back into this world to which they both belonged. Theo cleared his throat - his voice had gone a little hoarse as of late, with no use. "Haven't decided yet," he said just as casually, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. "What are you doing, knocking into people, hoping to drum up some more business for the hospital?" It was massively sassy, yes, but said with a little smile. He was feeling a little better already, distracted at the very least, and if he needed to stay at Draco's heels all day giving him attitude to get through it, so be it. They liked each other well enough, right?

If he could look at Draco (or any of his coworkers, but Draco was the nearest at this very moment) without panic roiling up his throat, Theo would have noticed the thought the other man was putting into looking at him. Luckily, he was looking everywhere else, because noticing that would have sent that panic into an all out attack. Theo didn't need people thinking about him; he didn't even want to be noticed. Such things were exceptionally hard for a brooding giant even on his normal days - so now, he had to do absolutely all he could to keep it together, act normal and avoid causing anymore suspicion for himself. Much easier said than done; Theo physically steeled himself against the world out to get him, muscles tensing just slightly under his clothes. When he finally managed to look at Draco, all he saw was snark in his face. Good. Nothing out of the ordinary here, no sir.

"I don't doubt it. I know all about your love affair with your work robes. You fancy acid green is your color, yeah?" The words rolled off Theo's tongue like nothing at all, an eyebrow even raising his opinion of just what he thought about the color acid green (did anyone honestly look good in it?). Yeah, this was definitely the way to go about it. Distraction was the name of the game for Theo in any uncomfortable situation of his life; distraction came in many forms, and today, it would come in sass.

Draco's question made him laugh - and run a hand over his face self-consciously. He'd tried to look presentable; he shaved that morning for pretty much the first time since the attack, but his newly smooth chin didn't do anything for the exhaustion written all in the lines of his face and around his eyes. They weren't as puffy anymore, but he still wasn't sleeping worth a damn and not much could be done about the way sleepless nights left you looking. Theo knew he looked like hell; so he had a hell-worthy excuse ready to go for any questions, snark-filled or not. "I think I'm on the road to recovery, mate, thanks. Caught a nasty bout of Scrofungulus, put me out for a few weeks." He rubbed at his throat, hopefully somewhat convincingly, though Theo was never a very good liar. "But don't worry your pretty little head, I'm back now. The universe has been righted once more." As easy as this was for Theo - sass and ego, what a combo - he still found himself pretty solidly stuck to the sidewalk. Every time he glanced at the storefront, his heart ticked upward. He about needed a right good shove to get through that window at this point.

Theo's heavy features didn't coincide well with the attitude behind them; there lay his downfall. Draco had the pretty face nature intended for all that snark, all arched eyebrows and curled lips - and it irked Theo something terrible. The words he could handle (to a point), but the looks, Merlin - the looks. He could practically feel Draco slithering under his skin with that smirk, the snaky bastard. But to be honest, that slimy feeling was worlds better than the chest-collapsing anxiety from moments before. Distraction, Theo reminded himself and straightened himself up. Just a distraction. Theo was thankful Draco had those same features, delicate in a sense, that discouraged their punching (for most people, at least).

House rivalry was safe, at any rate. Theo played into it mostly for the sake of the argument, having long ago traded in his sparse stores of loyalty from Gryffindor to the Chudley Cannons. "Well, when you put it that way," Theo looked Draco up and down, "Such a venomous color suits you just fine, doesn't it?"

Try as he might, with the sass and the excuses and the general defensiveness - Theo just wasn't convincing. He refused to believe this was a character flaw (he needed to convincing, his future depended on it); Draco was just watching him too closely. Well...kind of. He seemed a bit distracted, still snarky, but distracted. Theo considered Draco with a measured look as he questioned Theo's excuse (damn) but cut off abruptly (yay!), only to address an Auror (damn again) over Theo's shoulder. A bloody Auror. Theo felt himself go cold; his arms crossed over his chest, too, but mostly so he could hold in the fact that he was suddenly shaking with fear. Theo was actively avoiding Aurors at the moment, the sight of one inducing a panic in him worse than the one induced by his workplace. He turned to get out of the way; and so he was aligned shoulder-to-shoulder with Draco, the younger man's cutting gaze doing all the work while Theo managed to look sort of in the same direction. Please just let them be in the way, that's it. He couldn't get dragged off to Azkaban in front of Draco of all people.