[center][b]Percival Chevalier POV — Emory University, Cafeteria[/b][/center]

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Buzzing.

It was familiar—odd, but familiar. Mostly off putting.

The fact that Percival heard the buzzing enough times to register it as a comfort in the whirlwind of emotions swirling thorough his mind didn't exactly sit well with him. Yet, there it was, like a dull bell chiming in the confines of his thoughts, alerting him to emotions as if they were visitors. Beyond the buzz a voice drifted through, muffled and directed toward him—if he heard right. A distinct feeling that urged him to tilt his head upward, following the voice in a slight swivel of his head as if he were being called for. Though, none of that happened; Percival was far too dazed and exhausted to even think clearly about moving.

"Hey!" it pinched his ears, ran in shivers down his spine, "I didn't get your name." The voice grumbled, quieter thanthe shouts directed toward him. It continued, growing louder but keeping in hushed tones, "Hey! Please, you have to get up; those things are everywhere. I'll have to leave you if you don't wake up, please. God, please." It's cries grew in concern, twisting into one last distressed tone that was no longer restrained by the calm that lilted through her words, so close to the edge of desperation and full of so much fear, "Please. Please..."

And he tried, Percival tried very hard, but nothing came forth. The grip of slumber held too tight and he wanted so bad to respond in any way, but tree days of no sleep left most humans delirious, incapacitated and he'd expended so much energy. He just wanted to sleep; the words caught in his throat, only reaching from the confines of his subconscious but never once pulling through. That buzzing only grew louder in his numbness and distress, until it the buzzing turned into something different, a full on groan—a collection of them—and further more moans, hoarse as they peeled through layers of decay and gurgled forth. It felt wrong against his eardrums, like someone willingly pour salt water into them and the noises sloshed about like the muck he'd imagined. The only response Percival gave edged panic through his mind, his eyes racing taught against his eyelids as if this were just a dream. He knew better, though, or maybe he didn't. There was only exhaustion that overwhelmed it, sinking into his bones like a dull ache that traveled throughout his body in wanton pulses.

From where he stood, still muffled by the buzzing and the cries and the exhaustion, the voice urged him on before completely turning away. If he could have, he would have slumped further down the oak in resignation, letting his head fall against the sturdy protection of the bark. It would consume him, he was sure of it, curl him into its roots and hush him back to sleep so those monsters couldn't touch him. Though the shock vibrating from the voice seemed to reel him back to reality; maybe he had moved, maybe this person was no longer resigned to leave him for dead.

"Aldous! Please, I can't lift him up by myself; I need your help," it could out, turned away from him again. Maybe it hadn't even turned back in the first place. It was feasible that Percival had imagined this all up. "I'm not strong enough. Please, I'll cover you, just hurry! Dammit, you wanted to save this man's life, well now's your chance."

Moments passed, aided only by the thick, heavy steps that only grew louder in its vibrations. Percival felt the pull and drag of muscle as arms slid under him and lifted, tensing under the weight of his body and his pack. A surprised huff of air slipped from the man's mouth, as if he was expecting Percival to be heavier... or maybe lighter, he couldn't tell—his arms flexed under the weight regardless. A shoulder urged him forward, before a sturdy chest replaced it, leaving along a light feeling to replace the heaviness the ground held him with. The oak no longer pressed against the curve of his neck. Yet, the sturdy feeling that bubbled calmness into his chest never left. That buzz, unfortunately, didn't fail to leave either.

Eyes still shut, Percival leaned into the embrace, unable to fight the exhaustion. Was he fighting it to begin with? A quick shake of his head was all the convincing he needed, though the man, Aldous, who held him seemed to take that differently and only further pressed Percival to his chest, a pleasantly surprised grumble heaving from his throat as Percival's fingers gripped tight to Aldous' shirt. But, he'd give no more than that; the exhaustion was too much for him and he deserved at least some form of comfort. The secure feelings of arms coiled beneath and around him, accompanied by the swell of heat pressed to his side, sleep only seemed the next logical step—an offer too good for him to refuse. That ache never left, only settled deeper until he'd succumbed to the slumber beneath Aldous' chin, taught and snug where he held him and ignorant of the cadence of his bounce as they trudged forward. Percival felt the rumble of the chuckle as he placed himself further along a stubbled jaw, finding warmth where he would probably too embarrassed to admit. Comfort over everything else and the stranger offered, so he willingly took. However, the amusement dripping from Aldous' voice only furthered the scowl he didn't know he was wearing, even in spite of the relaxed sag of his shoulder and lack of tension in his body.

"Figures, not sure any one in their right mind—even if you aren't technically in your right mind—can resist the temptation to snuggle this gorgeous, hunk of a—" Aldous voice was distinctly different from the one before, though it was comfortingly familiar. The voice from early, feminine in its intonation compared to Aldous, cut him off.

"For the love of God, he's unconscious and was this close to be Kibbles 'N Bits for those things out there," She seemed irritated when she spoke, but there was a faint hint of amusement beneath it all. "Would it kill you not to flirt with the guy until he's safe and, most importantly, awake?"

"And fed," Aldous added with a grumble, "But fine, jeeze. Can't a comfort a guy with a little bit of harmless carnality without being yelled at."

"You don't know how wrong that sounds; he's passed the fuck out. You might as well be enticing him with—" Aldous cut her off this time, a gruff hardness that felt a little this side of weird coming from Aldous throat echoing his words.

"Don't, Grace. Don't you dare." They'd stopped and the blast of air that smacked his face signaled he'd been turned, rather sharply and with a little too much roughness edged into it. He could only mumble his protest, though he was certain Aldous wouldn't hear it. Percival could feel the tension swelling within the man's body, feel his jaw clench tight along his head as it bared down.

An strained sigh filtered through the air in front of him, followed by Grace's response, "Go, please. The door is right there. We don't have time for this argument."

From the posture Aldous held before trudging in, Percival was quite certain that conversation would be over any time soon. Somehow, he was glad not to have been caught in the middle of it; it seemed like intruding into something private, meant for the ears of only close family. Why he ever cared to pick up on any of that—suffice to say, he spared himself the headache of the nosy, curious kind. Being right their, unable to do anything but listen, may have factored into that. That stray thought brought strands of the beginning of a bad migraine to the surface and Percival tampered down on it almost immediately, succumbing to the beck and call of slumber wrapped in the warmth of a stranger's arms. His parishioners would have thrown a fit, but who could deny a few restless day's worth of sleep and the offer of warmth this man so graciously gave him? Percival may come to find those thoughts turn regretful later, but at that moment, Aldous was much too like a self-heating blanket not to press himself closer; he could almost feel the indignant roll of Grace's eyes as she passed and her whispered, "Weak." And he hoped to God she was only referring to the fact that he probably fell too willingly into another person's offer of comfort and help. From Aldous response of, "Jealous," and Grace's rebuttal of, "As if," any rising suspicion that she may have looked down on him seemed to vanish.

Why he was scared of that thought—the question was pushed down among the others in favor of rest.

The doorway passed by in a gush of air while Aldous carried him over the threshold, surprised it was wide enough to accommodate his slightly horizontal frame. Walls did nothing to add to the security he'd found among Grace and Aldous, particularly in the protective hold he was being subjected to, something that was promptly taken away. Percival nearly reeled as hard, cool floor and harder, colder walls replaced the soft warmth of the Georgia air (replaced with the sterility of the indoors, with a dank, hidden sub-layer of rotted flesh) and the coziness he'd felt pressed against another individual. Percival had not felt the desire to rely on a person so wholly, a complete stranger no doubt, and the furrow in his brows hinted more at his discomfort, but also how those thoughts seemed to unnerve him. It felt too soon to trust any of these people yet, regardless of whether or not they saved his life.

That familiar presence returned and Percival graced him with a squinted eye in acknowledgement, brows still knitted together in a frown. Aldous merely smiled, prodded the middle of his forehead in an attempt to ease the tension away while he pressed a water bottle to his hand. A chuckle escaped the man's throat at his minor success in getting Percival to relax once more, though the frown on his lips didn't give way so easily.

"Mind sharing your ,name?" Aldous asked, tilting his head in curiosity, "I'm Aldous, if you wanted to know in return."

"I gathered," Percival responded slowly, pressing the water bottle to his lips as he spoke, "Percival." With that, he downed the water and shut his eyes, fully intending to succumb to the slumber that ached within him again, regardless of whether or not Aldous kept talking.

"Percival. Fancy name," Aldous responded, slowly testing the sound of it on his tongue in hushed tones to keep from disturbing Percival, "Well, you looked beat before, can't say you look any better now, handsome. Sweet dreams." A pat and squeeze on his shoulder was all he got before Aldous slinked away with a soft huff of laughter. Percival could feel the grin radiating from where they'd placed him.

Percival held onto that, and the presence of the surrounding people to comfort the anxiety and paranoia that threatened to fully wake him. He soon found that sleep that had been waiting for him to curl into a ball and just stop for a second too enticing now to resist. There was nothing left for him to worry about and he was fully willing to trust these people with his safety for at least this one time. Percival no sooner found a comfortable position where he sat, curling in on himself as sleep broke through the rustling feathers of a fleeing pigeon.