A Change in Fate

Chapter Nine: Return to the Shadows

    Enjoy some more adorable Michael and Gregory interactions because I love them too much, and then onto the peril!

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    Gregory snuggled farther into the blankets, his eyes fluttering back shut. He figured he'd slept for much too long, but the exhaustion kept him in a deep sleep for ages. He did not get out of bed, even now. Not only because of his exhaustion but facing Michael. Gregory couldn't deny how fond of him he'd grown, and the thought of spending more time with Michael sounded quite comfortable and refreshing. However, Gregory wanted to smack himself for hugging him. Twice. That had to be embarrassing; he wasn't usually a mushy person. Rolling his eyes, he transferred to his other side. At least the bed was comfortable. He currently stayed in the guestroom, which Mike had cleared out for him earlier, since it had previously been used for storage, or a "junk room", as some would put it.

    Exhaling, Gregory sat up and rubbed at one of his eyes. "Guess I better get up. Who cares if I hugged Michael? I...I like him. So what? I just won't get too mushy again." He lowered his hand, frowning deeply. "I wonder if he's going back to Circus Baby's tonight. He better not." He shuddered at the thought of that place. "What even happened to my plan?" Ah, yes, his plan to find answers, and then leave permanently, perhaps giving Michael the info and keycard that he'd discovered on his way out. Yet, here he was, still at Michael's house. Gregory lifted the keycard from where he'd left it on his nightstand, an object he had forgotten until he undressed so his clothes could be properly cleaned. So far, he hadn't handed the card off to Mike. He turned it over in his hand, wincing. "I won't give it to him yet. Maybe I can convince him not to go. We...we already know everything we need to, right? Right." He placed it back on the nightstand and hopped out of bed. After adjusting his matching blue pajamas—which were about the right size, for they appeared to be old kid clothes—he left the guestroom and made his way to the living room.

    "Mike?" he said. He stepped towards the couch, scanning the room for him. "Mike?" A small shout came from behind him, startling him. Gregory spun around, his eyes meeting with that of Michael, who stood behind him, his arms loaded with two large boxes.

    "Sorry," he said, adjusting the objects he held. "You just scared me. Forgot I gave you those pjs." He continued past Gregory to a far corner of the room, one that the boy had not examined all that much. Another door stood there, which Mike struggled to open while he juggled the boxes as well as he could. Hurrying over, Gregory opened it for him. With a muttered thank you, Michael descended the steps beyond the door. Gregory watched from above, his brow furrowed.

    "I didn't know you had a basement!" he called after Michael.

    "It's not much!" he called back up. "But if you want to look it over sometime, be my guest." He tromped back up the steps to him, where he softly shut the door. "I was just taking the last bit of stuff I was storing in your room—erm, I mean the guestroom. But I guess it's sort of...your...room—alright, I'm making this strange. I'll just go finish making lunch." He edged around Gregory and headed in the direction of the kitchen. Gregory stared after him, blinking a few times. Shrugging it off, he followed. He watched Mike with crossed arms as he finished up what looked like a pot of spaghetti.

    "What do you mean lunch?" Gregory asked.

    "Ah," Michael said, speaking through a light chuckle. "It's past 1 p.m., Greg."

    "Oh." So it had been a while. He trailed after Michael while he finished loading the plates and carried them to the small dining room table. "Are my clothes ready?"