“Alright, we’ll figure that one out in the morning.” Big spoke up, scooping the Hessian up off the floor and heading for the stairs to the second floor with Moth in tow. However, the close proximity made the bigfoot acutely aware of the smell emanating from around H’s, well, neck, his nose wrinkling at the odor.

            “What the hell were you even drinking, H?” He couldn’t help murmuring, a confused noise coming from Moth somewhere behind them even as the Horseman made a frustrated, garbled groan. “I know, I know. You don’t remember and you can’t tell me. Sorry, bud.”

            The Hessian simply let out a huff that exuded more of that weird smell, Big edging away from it out of habit. It wasn’t bad, per say, though it was strong, and honestly felt like it was trying to sear his nose a bit.

            However, while the Horseman was placid for the walk up the stairs, getting up onto the landing seemed to make something fire in his nonexistent head, Big suddenly finding himself going from holding a relatively limp headless body to one that was squirming all over the place with the coordination of an exhausted toddler.

            “H, H, hold on—!”

            “What’s wrong?!” Mothman hollered, voice shrill as he tried to come around to see what the Hessian was getting so worked up over.

            However, thankfully and somewhat unfortunately, their ruckus got the attention of someone else, namely the newly-minted eleven-year-old who opened the door to the left of their little huddle.

            “Can you guys keep it down, I’m trying to sleep!”

            Though if that was meant to deter the Horseman, the words had sadly missed their mark. Instead, he grew more agitated, and now apparently had a direction for his agitation given that he began to flail more in Harriet’s direction.

            “H, she needs to go to—”  Big started to say, right before he happened to mentally translate some of the signs the Hessian’s fingers were disjointedly making.

            Present, give, sorry, please…

            “Sorry for the shouting, kiddo, but, is it okay if you talk to H for a moment? Think he has something he wanted to give you.”

            “…Sure.” Harriet replied, hesitant but tempted, watching as Big placed the Horseman mostly on his feet. A hand was there to make sure the Hessian didn’t take a dive for the carpet, he was definitely wavering enough to do so, even as he was patting down his coat.

            “Alright, where is it?” The girl finally asked, arms crossed and head tilted back as she stared down the Horseman, who’s movements began to grow all the more wild before he slumped heavily on his feet.

            Lost it. Sorry. Lost it. Immediately the words had Big wincing, given that if anything this was going to set back any notion of repairing things with Harriet. It was something that H seemed to realize too, from his apologizing, though his current condition definitely wasn’t making things easier. Seeing the Hessian’s frame reeling a bit on his feet, Big hurriedly reached out with both hands to grab H’s shoulders and make sure he didn’t topple over onto the hallway floor. Thankfully the Horseman jolted back to coherence at the contact, though his fingers were spelling out yet another apology. Sorry, dizzy.

            “You should go to bed then.” Well, thankfully she wasn’t outright rejecting H, but there was a definite note of frostiness to her tone that Big was sure the Hessian was likely hearing even in his more impaired state.

            Hell, maybe it’d be best to take a raincheck on this whole interaction, given that it didn’t seem to be going well in the here and now. Putting on his best conciliatory, I understand your grievances but maybe now isn’t the time kind of tone, Big spoke up, easing the Horseman away from Harriet’s door.

            “Kid has a point, H, you can barely stand up. Look, we can try to look for it tomorrow, but you’re not running off in the middle of the night—”

            No! No. No. Wanted to— Though for all of his apparent gumption, the Horseman’s physical state was putting a significant crater in any effort he could make to address the problem, his hands still fumbling like a drunk man’s tongue as he finally gave up with a tired huff.  

            “I know, but you’re not really doing too hot, remember?” Big tried, continuing when it became clear the Hessian’s energy had more or less run down. “Besides, if you want you can tell us what apparently got lost and we’ll set out tomorrow if you’re feeling better. But right now I think it’d be a way better idea to put everything on hold. Harriet’s gotta go back to bed.”

            “Sorry, goodnight.” Moth whispered to the by now somewhat aggrieved little girl, Harriet giving the whole scene a frustrated stare before stepping back into her room and closing her door with a sharp click.

            It wasn’t a slam, but from how H flinched and slumped in defeat it might as well have been. Sighing softly, Big hefted the Hessian back into his arms, recontinuing down the hall with Moth in tow. A part of Big couldn’t help wondering if H would actually remember what happened, and wondered if not remembering might be more of a mercy considering how catastrophically bad that had just gone. The Horseman definitely seemed to be leaning that way, given his utterly woebegone groan as their little party made it to his and Moth’s room at the end of the hall.

            “I know, I know…” Big mumbled, crouching to get in through the door and hopefully not rattle the off-kilter Hessian too much. “But, hey, look at it this way, you rest now and we’ll try to fix this up tomorrow.”

            H didn’t seem to take much stock with that, though at the very least he was pliable to being set down on his bed, which was when Big realized that they’d neglected to leave his riding boots downstairs. Getting those off, the bigfoot scooted his way back out of the room and down the hall to go deposit the shoes near the door, leaving Moth to help a still very uncoordinated Headless Horseman shrug his coat off.

            “…If it helps, you’ll probably get another chance to make things up with Harriet tomorrow.” He murmured, fluffy antenna raising a bit with cautious hope. Still, the Hessian’s body language didn’t really lift into anything more happy, and instead he used the last bit of his energy to flop onto his bed and pull his pillow over his, well, neck. It left the insect cryptid a little bereft of anything else positive to say, fumbling for a moment with H’s coat before he turned to hang it up on the hook stuck to their door. A knocking briefly startled the mothman, his fluffier hide poofing outward as he jumped and turned back around. 

            But the only thing the Hessian did, was take a moment to seemingly figure himself out before signing a somewhat halting thank you, my friend, flipping himself back over and apparently dropping off into, whatever he did that counted as sleep. Even after nearly a few decades of knowing him, Moth still wasn’t sure if the sort of torpor the headless man would fall into really fell under the same purview as sleep.

            Though, all things considered, it was a good start for him getting better, and hopefully resolving this whole mess. So, with that in mind, Moth gently unfolded a blanket to lay over the Hessian’s still form, he’d always ‘said’ he never needed it but it felt right, and clambered into his own bed to read for a while.