Casey awoke slowly, blinking, her eyes taking a moment to focus on the figure standing by her bed.

"You were dreaming," he muttered as Casey pressed up to look at him. His face was so stern, so wary, and Casey blinked a little as something unexpectedly tender filled her at the familiarity of his hard expression.

"Was I?" she whispered, in all honesty having no memory of her dreams. From Dennis's expression though, she imagined it wasn't a good one. Dennis blinked and looked away.

"You said my name."

Casey felt her cheeks flush, but he continued.

"You were scared and you said my name." He turned dark eyes back on to her. "Do I hurt you, in your dreams, do I scare you?"

He looked so certain he already knew the answer, was steeling himself up for her to admit it, but Casey shook her head.

"No, Dennis, of course not." She pushed herself fully up. "I have bad dreams sometimes, but they're never about you. I, I was," she flushed, "I was probably looking for you," she answered softly.

As a child she would wake screaming for her father, and it only enraged her uncle further, but she couldn't stop her dreams, couldn't stop the way she cried for someone to come, like she never did when she was awake.

She hadn't cried out for anyone in a while, but Barry had told her a few times that she had started asking for him in her sleep. He had said it with a cocky, infuriating smile, and Casey had laughed it off. Now she felt almost embarrassed, wondering how Dennis would respond to knowing she was trying to reach him in her sleep.

"What does frighten you."

Casey ducked her head, feeling the weight of his stare.

"The beast," she said after the barest pause, and she heard him sigh.

"I think you're lying, Casey."

He had awoken just before dawn to the sound of his name, full of terror, her thrashing, desperate cries. She had calmed even as he reached the room, but her terror had stayed with him, layered on top of other reactions he had witnessed, when something in her eye was just a little bit off, like she was afraid if it shifted it would reveal a dark secret behind.

He knew the others hadn't noticed. Even the more observant alters, Patricia, Orwell, were distracted by the threat of the beast. They had kept her here to pacify the beast without having time to wonder why she was not fighting to get back home.

"Why would I lie," she huffed, sounding annoyed.

"I think you're scared of something else."

Casey flinched at the reasonable statement, and felt her ears burn in embarrassed anger.

"It's none of your business," she snapped, yet couldn't stop herself from hoping he wouldn't get angry, wanting to push him away but too frightened that he would leave.

He sighed, sounding annoyed, "you're not safe here, Casey. I need to know you'll be safe if you leave."

Casey couldn't answer that, and the moments stretched on in silence when Casey's stomach suddenly growled.

"I'm going to make breakfast!" she quipped, sliding from the bed and dashing from the room before he could ask her anything else.

Casey heard the water kick on as she stood over the stove, assuming he was in the shower. She hummed a little to distract her thoughts, flipping the eggs.

She was setting two plates onto the counter when Dennis appeared. He was carefully dressed, pausing when he saw her, blinking as she sent him an intentionally pleasant look as if nothing had happened.

She didn't realize it was the closest she had ever come to smiling at him.

Dennis shook himself. Going forward he accepted his food with a quiet grunt of thanks. He began eating, watching his plate.

Casey stared as Dennis ate, his entire focus on his plate, and she took a little step back, feeling almost foolish for, well, she didn't know what. He stopped suddenly, looking up.

"I'm being rude," he stated. Laying his fork down, he straightened. "I apologize. Would you like to eat with me?"

Casey found herself frustrated at the simple question, and ducked her head, "is that okay?"

Dennis moved in response, slipping off of the stool he moved his plate, fork and napkin down the counter, and motioned for Casey to take a seat. She felt silly taking his seat but was feeling too shy to protest, but the moment she sat down she realized the coffee was probably done and went to rise.

Dennis waved her back.

Casey sat, not eating, watching as he circled the small counter. He selected two mugs from the cabinet, inspected them quickly, before setting them on the counter by the coffee. She watched his hands, intrigued as he straightened each cup so that the handles were in line. He crossed to the fridge, selecting the creamer some of the other alters used, and Casey wondered when Dennis had noticed how she liked her coffee. She knew for certain he drank it black because Barry had complained about it, calling it neanderthalic. Casey wasn't sure that that was a word, but it had made her laugh.

Now as she studied Dennis, the careful but easy way he moved, she couldn't help thinking Barry's description of him was plain laughable. There was nothing crude or unevolved about Dennis.

He set her mug down in front of her, and Casey's hands slipped around it, enjoying the warmth as she watched Dennis return to his plate.

He only looked at her long enough to look at her untouched food in question, and Casey obediently picked up her fork, as they ate their breakfast in a semi comfortable silence.

It was as if they had formed some uncertain truce of almost friendship, and Casey was at a complete loss of what to do.

Casey's mind was racing, as she hopped up to help him with the dishes, but she quickly realized his system left no room for additional helping hands, leaving Casey standing awkwardly by the sink before she gave up and retreated to her room.

She showered, quickly, not wanting to miss saying goodbye to him before he left for work, and pretending that wasn't why. She dressed, pulling on most of her own clothes. She had reached such a comfortable level of ease with the other alters, and suddenly found herself wondering if she could have that with Dennis. If they really could be friends. She had toweled as much moisture out of her hair as she could, and was listening for the sound of the door, hoping Dennis wouldn't just leave, but half expecting him to.

Finally cleanly presentable, Casey slipped out into the quiet hall. She heard the office door swing closed and turned towards it as Dennis slipped out.

He paused when he saw her, a frown fixed more firmly than normal in place.

''Is everything okay?" Casey asked, and he rolled a shoulder.

"There was a gas leak at the department store that caused some damage. They will be closed a few days for repairs."

"So... you're not going to work?" Casey tried to squelch the something rising in her chest.

"It would seem not." Dennis stated evenly.

They stared at each other a moment, thoughts locked behind shy eyes, before the silence got to Casey and she was speaking before she thought,

"Since you'll be home, do you maybe want to watch something?"

Dennis's expression didn't change, but his body shifted, "I have some things to do." he answered evenly, "but afterwards, I can do that."

It was on the tip of Casey's tongue to ask if he wanted to, but she quickly decided to accept the answer she had gotten and she turned away, "ok, I'll see you when you're done, I guess."