"Hardly home." Maximus said as he paid up his own tab, and then walked out onto the street, Wyatt close behind him. "Can't stand the beds, here," he confessed, still doing his best to choke down everything he had dredged up. "Too soft."

He was already making a beeline for the park.

In another mood, he would have asked. Cheerily requested Wyatt's continued company, to spend one more night out under the stars rather than in the strange, foreign apartments. laughing it off. But the ghosts clung heavy to him like a weighted cloak, and could not bring himself to cheer, nor to burden his friend.

Brother? Other?