“Are you alright?” the words were barely audible over the ringing in his ears, “Black Rose? Can you hear me?”

“Huh...?” Wendel blinked, rubbing his face as he took in his surroundings.

He was outside now, in the fresh air, and the shadow of the tavern. He could barely make out the noises from within - they were so distant now. He was sitting up against the wall, and before him knelt a worried Garson, looking him over with concern in his eyes.

“I said are you alright?” Garson repeated, “You looked like you were about to faint.”

“I-... yeah. I’m... I’m alright...” Wendel shook his head clear for a moment, trying to piece everything together, “Just... not used to it, is all.”

“It’s alright,” Garson gave him an assuring smile, and a pat on the shoulder to match, “Not everyone has an easy first time. I liked your broodin’ face.”

“Was it good?” Wendel pressed in a daze.

“Oh yeah,” Garson nodded, “You had Henry- er, Dark Shadow Ninety-nine soiling himself. He usually only does that on Midrius.”

“What’s today?” Wendel covered his eyes, “Delvis?”

“Tuesday,” Garson corrected.

“Ah...” Wendel nodded, “Makes sense.”

“You’re sure you’re alright then?” Garson pressed.

“Yeah... just... you know,” Wendel gestured vaguely, “Taking a break...”

“Well, I think that’s enough brooding for you today,” Garson remarked as he offered Wendel a hand up, “At least professionally.”

“I- thank you,” Wendel accepted the hand, and Garson pulled him to his feet, “So... what now then?”

"Well, I don't know about you, but I know when I've had a bad day, there's only one thing that cheers me up more than broodin'," Garson smiled.

"More brooding?" Wendel pressed.

"Right, two things then," Garson gave an amused huff, "the other is the bakery down the street. Do you like honey buns?"

"I'm more of a dark chocolate person myself," Wendel hummed.

"Oh, look at Mister Moneybags who can afford real chocolate," Garson teased, "I bet you eat real vegetables too."

"I..." Wendel paused, "Are you okay?"

"Please don't ask me that."

"That's... That's fair," Wendel rubbed the back of his head, "why don't I treat then?"

"You mean it?" Garson gasped, and Wendel nodded, "Ohh... Black Rose Eleven...”, he breathed as he abruptly hugged him, and Wendel went a bit rigid, “You're an angel."

“I... Thank you... but, you can just call me Wendel,” he muttered against him, “So... to the bakery then?”

“Yes!” Garson grinned, and he took Wendel by the wrist, “Right this way!”