It was a chilly day. The warmth of the vibrant summer they'd just had was daring to leave them shivering a bit as the Central Air Unit adjusted and whirred in the background quietly. There was a deep and comforting white noise when they lapsed into a pleasant silence.

Adam strode past Hazel and Jacob with a big smile, and they returned it. His kiss to Steven was quick and soundless. Things were going on in his mind again, sinister things, but he refused to give up. The thoughts flowed in and out of him like he couldn't breathe fresh air. He felt like a fish, part of him wanted to gasp for it. The rest of him kept breathing. He liked to brood, to have his brow furrowed and worry until he had a comprehensive plan for any kind of Murphys Law thing that could happen. Bad things happened all the time to him: secret things, out loud things. When his plates stacked too high and crashed to the ground, he broke down in the bathroom only to have the lock picked so they could hold him. Sometimes something tiny would go wrong and it would feel like the very end of the world, he'd lose his mind over it and hate himself a little extra hard for a few days. Other times something huge would happen: a fight, a fire, a moment of apprehension about love, and he could take the punches right in his gut without a flinch. He glanced at the knife Anna was holding, and like some kind of omnipotent goddess, her grip tightened without looking at him once.

Despite it all, he smiled to himself and wrote music in his head.

Steven tried not to think of anything at all as he and Connie made lunch. He decided after he put two pieces of bread together and almost packed it that he was drunk. Again. Lately it had become a bit of a crutch, but alcohol worked differently for him. The thoughts always didn't fizzle into silly behaviors or fist fights, it made him want to love. It made him want to feel something other than self hate. Because without it, he couldn't be bothered to change any further. He'd come so far, Steven De Mayo-Maheswaren in the future's future, here we are! That was the thing: sometimes the future stopped happening. Moments like this, where there was a distinct absence of life among the living and yet sweet, gentle love that floated through the air like kisses. Moments like this were rare. They were a rowdy bunch that sat on the same wavelength, like strings on a guitar. They all sang different tunes but together it became a lustrous and beautiful harmony he was obsessed with. He wondered if he deserved lustrous and beautiful things as Connie's hand brushed up against his with perfection and grace.

Then he decided he didn't care because it was his anyways, and the cycle started over.

They were just sandwiches made to their dietary restrictions on bread. The bread seemed to deepen the silence as Connie worked along side her fabulous husband. Things were quite nice in the silence of deeply interpersonal relationships co-existing with one another. A sip from a soda might conflict with a tiny allergy sniffle or gentle shuffling. It was an organized type of oath of silence, an imaginary but very real conversation they'd had without speaking or even looking at each other. On one side of her, her bright ray of Steven placed two pieces of bread together, but froze and unstuck the pieces. Someone would have mayo on both sides. She was almost tempted to start over, her perfectionist screamed it wasn't right. But her perfectionist was merely a neighbor next door now; able to be heard but not always able to be listened to.

She dressed the damn sandwich and brushed Stevens hands again on purpose.

Anna was slicing their tomatoes and passing them over one by one. When everyone liked tomatoes, that meant at least two or three on each sandwich, and there were eight of them herself included. That number made her feel all kinds of ways, but mostly safe. Nothing could get her for very long out of their arms, they had gotten their grip and held on for dear life once everything had opened up. She felt Adam's eyes watching her slice and she gripped it harder. He looked away with a smile.

Safety: it flowed through her again, and she continued cutting as Steven spread the mayo.

Jasmin nearly sighed in content, then decided she much preferred the quiet and blew it out soundlessly. Alex lay fake dozing on her lap (platonically) after a series of nightmares and rough days. On her right sat her husband, smoking his cart like a chimney and stoned out of his mind so he could tolerate the quiet. She slumped harder into him, continuing to rub at Alex' head. He said he hated that when he was awake, but he always slept longer and deeper when she did. He definitely wasn't sleeping, she'd gotten used to the way he breathed sleeping in the same bed cuddled up to Jacob every night, but she was happy to give him some peace.

So that's what she did.

Jacob was high enough that he wouldn't fidget or have to make a joke. Silence scared him, quiet things were often dangerous things and his mind would equate the nearly dead feeling with once again being back in his bedroom as a child. But in this silence, Jacob could think. His thoughts were slurred and circular, but those circles had intelligent thought flowing through them. His friends had been positively shocked about his 4.0 gpa, which had hurt him a little inside. He worried his friends maybe thought that he was stupid, but as he thought harder now he realized maybe it was the fact that he had managed to accomplish such a monumentous feat while being–. His face twitched and he took another massive hit, then set it on his wife's lap. It was a quiet plea for her to take it, and she tucked it in her bra without a second of hesitation. He caught a few wayward glances as he laid to rest on her lap too, suddenly able to feel a little pain in his heart. They called him a hero sometimes, it was so odd to him, but he bashfully tossed a hand through the air and tried to make them laugh. They were serious.

That genuinely confused him.

Alex was not asleep, not really. He'd never, ever admit it ever, but his best friend in the world rubbing his head was one of his creature comforts. He refused to accept anything of the sort when supposed to be awake, so in moments like this he stilled and evened his breath. She was good at it, Jasmin had spent years stroking Jacob's head to coddle or comfort him. Sometimes he thought about the gay bar he'd went to, and a nightmare always followed. He was so tired but was afraid to sleep. Steven and Adam caught him hallucinating and in a sheer panic from the face he'd perceived to be in the window the previous night. They'd held him and Steven had glowed a color that meant nothing could get to Alex ever, ever again. Still he trembled.

But now... now he pretended to shift and buried his cheek further into Jasmin's lap as he finally achieved an anxious nap.

Hazel filled with warmth and laid back on the couch, sinking into it with heavy eyes. The comfort of these people being near seeped into his very bones and pulled an involuntary trance over his eyes. His blunt was still burning in his hand so he took another hit and blew it out almost immediately, not wanting to break the sacred moment with a fit of coughing. He watched his partners make lunch and felt nothing but adoration and longing to express it. So much had changed inside of him since Nova, Steven had shown him how to love and he was addicted to trying to make them feel like he did about it. Adam caught him staring and turned, eyes closer to a true shade of blue because he was sad. Hazel knew that, everyone else did too. They'd been watching like hawks perched in nests. The second he tried to disappear, they'd be there to catch him and force him to feel their undying love. Connie and Steven were flirting silently, Anna was being fucking adorable while Jacob and Jasmin cuddled and Alex pretended to sleep. Things were kindred, yet almost a bit like sitting in a void with the amount of hush they'd made for themselves.

There was so much energy with nothing to do.

So it did nothing.