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"More of an expert than I am."

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"I will give you that."

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"Anyway, you can move here if you want for now, but the powers that be will feel quite free to squeeze you in with me again on no notice if they need a room for something."

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"Eh. I'll stay with you."

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"In that case I'm supposed to neaten up the place so it doesn't look so lived-in if they do put someone else here. Want to bet Miles forgot a sock?"

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"He deliberately abandoned most of his local civilian clothes. No bet."

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Ivan snorts and sets about his neatening task.

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Mark carries off Miles's abandoned clothes. They'll all fit him, after all.

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How sensible!

It doesn't take Ivan very long to make the room look like Miles was never there to eyes that do not belong to Mark. Then he goes and does his actual job for the day, or rather the rest of it, and then he brings Mark a late dinner and eats one himself, and then he goes back to the infirmary for a check on the state of his hands, and then it is early bedtime.
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Mark lumps lumpishly in his bed in Ivan's room for much of this time, and then lumpish lumping turns into lumpish sleeping. But he does eat dinner.

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How about breakfast in the morning?

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Yes, he eats that too! Hooray for Mark.

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"How're you doing?" Ivan asks anyway.

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He shrugs.

"I'll be all right, probably. Miles did make me promise not to kill myself."
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"Is that what he made you promise."
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"It was foremost on his mind. But the same promise goes just as well for, oh, not disappearing in the middle of the night and roaming the wormhole nexus picking pockets and crying for a year."

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"That sounds like a singularly unpleasant year."

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"Would've suited my mood at the time. I'm feeling a little better now, though."

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"And it didn't take you a year!"

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"I expect the promise Miles extracted will probably keep you from actually killing yourself, but... don't want to? If you can?"

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"Thank you."

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"I am always here to make awkward requests about your emotional state."

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...Mark giggles.

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