Owen followed Larry to the entrance of the small cafe, waiting patiently for him at the door as the night guard tipped the cab driver for the lift. It was around eight am, and the sun was already ascending above the horizon. The exhibits were well "asleep", as Larry had put it, and the two night guards had just gotten off work.

Owen had been planning on going home, but Larry had insisted they catch a bite to eat first. Owen had tried to decline, saying that Larry had done enough for him already and that he should get back to his apartment. But his coworker somehow managed to convince him otherwise.

It was not that Owen did not wish to spend time knowing his fellow night guard, his mind was just not in the present. He had been thinking of the cowboy most of the morning. After sunrise, he had wandered back to the Hall of Miniatures, hoping for another glimpse of the tiny man he had encountered. Owen did not understand why he was so anxious to see him. He just felt….when he saw him, he felt comforted, in a way. Like his own heart had been aching without him knowing, and now that it was being fixed, he felt the good pain of healing. He wondered if he would see him again the next night.

As Owen thought to himself about the recent events, Larry spoke with one of the waitresses, who led them to a table near a large window. Larry picked up one of the menus and looked it over. Owen, not wanting to give the night guard the wrong impression, reluctantly opened and scanned the menu.

There were a variety of choices, and almost everything looked appetizing. The only problem was, as the quality of food went up, so did the price. And Owen knew he could not afford to blow his money on breakfast. With a wistful glance over the buttermilk pancakes, and prepared to make his order as the waitress returned to their table.

"What would you like, sir?" The waitress asked, giving Larry a sweet smile.

Larry returned the smile, then gave his order. "I'd like the eggs and bacon, please. With some garlic bread toast. Oh, and could I get some coffee with that?"

"Of course. And what would you like, sir?"

Owen thought for a moment, his mind fighting to make a decision. He gave a sigh, and looked up at the waitress. "I would like a plain bagel and water, please."

The waitress frowned. 'Is that all, sir?"

"Yes." Owen replied, quickly handing her his menu.

After a few more seconds of staring, the waitress grabbed up the menus and left the table.

For a while, both men sat in silence. Larry's phone was buzzing with texts, so Owen was on his own. He looked around at the decor of the cafe. It was your typical, run of the mill quick dine-in sort of cafe. It had a front counter where the tabs were paid, and behind that a kitchen with a window sized opening for food to be handed through. There were only about ten small, white tables spread about the rest of the space, and. The walls of the cafe were painted a cheery blue, and there were various potted plants spotting the spare corners. It was a nice little place to relax in.

"I could have bought it for you." Larry said, breaking the silence.

"Huh?" Owen looked across the table at Larry quickly, his mind startled from his thoughts. He then registered what Larry had said, and quickly shook his head. "It's fine. You've helped me enough, thank you."

"It really wouldn't have been a problem-"

"No." Owen said again, casting the night guard a small glare.

Larry raised an eyebrow and gave Owen a questioning look, before shrugging and looking down at the table.

Owen winced inwardly, and scolded himself for the rude gesture. This was not the way to gain his coworker's trust. Even if he was having a hard time with life, it wasn't Larry's fault. Owen just needed to man up and deal with his own problems. Right after he apologised.

"I'm sorry." He said, bowing his head tiredly and giving it a small shake. "I'm just….you know…."

Larry nodded. "I see." He said gently. He then folded his hands and stared at Owen. "We need to talk, Owen. About that hall. The miniature hall."

Owen felt a trickle of sweat roll down his back, dragging an icy finger of dread. This was it. He was done for. Larry had found out about his little meeting, and now Owen would be fired. He would live alone in a cardboard box on the side of the street. No more chances. He had blown it.

"Look, I'm really sorry for going in there! I just was curious, you know? I needed to know what was in there, and there was this little cowboy who looked really sad and he said some things to me that I couldn't understand and I just wanted to help-"

"Whoa whoa, Owen, hey." Larry said quickly, holding out his hands to still the slurred speech from the other night guard. "I'm not mad. See?" Larry gestured to his face, which was not angry at all. "I'm just wondering why you went in there. What exactly happened, Owen?"

Owen hesitated, unsure what he should say.

"Owen." Larry said, much more firmly than he had spoken that night. "This is important, Owen. He's...the cowboy, his name's Jed, okay? Jedediah. He's not...he's not in a good spot right now. I just need to know what he said, okay? Please."

Still, Owen refused to speak. He wanted to. He really did. But part of him just would not let him tell the night guard. He was still confused, and he just could not seem to find the words to express that feeling.

"Owen,"

Owen looked up timidly, biting his lip. Larry sighed deeply, and rubbed his temples.

"You want to help him, don't you?" Larry asked.

Owen thought for a moment, before slowly nodding. Larry continued to speak.

"Then I need to know what he said. And how you feel."

"How I feel?" Owen said quizzically, frowning.

"Yes…" Larry said, trailing off awkwardly. He had realized his mistake, and quickly worked to cover it up. "How you feel about….about handling him. You know, your thoughts on maybe helping me figure out what might help him."

Owen nodded in understanding, although deep down he really did not understand what the other night guard was getting at.

"I...guess I would manage fine, but why? What's wrong with him?"

Larry opened his mouth to speak, but paused when the waitress returned with their food. Larry nodded a thanks. Owen did too, but didn't look up. After she was well out of earshot, Larry spoke.

"Jed wasn't always like this." He said, gazing out the window towards the museum, whose roof was just visible above some of the smaller buildings. "He used to be so happy all the time. Always laughing, always going on little adventures," Larry paused, and gave a small chuckle. "Always getting into trouble."

"He sounds like a handful." Owen commented.

Larry smiled again. "He was. Now, he's just not the same." Larry repositioned himself to lean slightly over the table. His face and voice were now serious. "He used to have a really good friend. His name was Octavius."

"Octavius?" Owen asked, frowning slightly. He then nodded. "Yes, he mentioned something about someone named Octavius." There was silence, before Owen's eyes widened. "Was he...was he referring to the man that statue was made after?"

Larry nodded slowly, letting his eyes drop to the tabletop. "He died a long time ago."

Owen was quiet, trying to piece together this new information. He was beginning to understand why the cowboy had seemed so depressed. And he also began to feel guilty.

"How did...how did he pass?" Owen asked, his voice solemn.

Larry sighed. "These exhibits they're….they're not unbreakable. The Tablet gives them life. But the Sun...they can't be outside in the Sun. They turn to dust if they are. Octavius….Octavius was outside."

"Oh."

"It was Jed's birthday. Teddy and I had been planning a party for him along with some of the other exhibits. We were all at the party. Octavius never showed up. None of us really thought anything of it. Then, when morning came, he wasn't there. The next night, Jed and I found him outside. It was too late to do anything…."

Owen could see the night guard was struggling to keep himself composed, and reached out a hand to pat his shoulder. Larry gave a quick nod of thanks before he shook his head .

"Jed hasn't been the same since. He doesn't smile. He doesn't laugh. He hardly even talks to us." There was another pause, before Larry gave another sigh. "For years they'd been inseparable. And then this happened, and just like that, he was gone."

Owen felt an immense wave of sadness at the story, and bowed his head, refusing to meet Larry's gaze. "I...I'm sorry I…" Owen fell silent. There was nothing he could say.

Larry took a deep breath to break the silence, and finally reached forward to pick up his coffee. "There's nothing you could have done. This was….erm….before your time. Anyways, Owen, there's something more. Something….really strange, I guess. He...Jed, seems to recognize you as Octavius."

"I noticed that." Owen said, swallowing a sip from his water cup. The water tasted a lot like tap water, but that fact was not of importance at the moment. "He called me Octavius, also Ockie, which I'm assuming was a nickname….?" Larry nodded, and Owen continued speaking. "He seemed to talk to me like I was Octavius. In fact he seemed….he seemed rather upset that I didn't recognize him." Owen paused, a worried look on his face. "Oh gods tell me I didn't hurt him."

Larry nodded sadly. "He was crying."

Owen stared down at his plate in guilt. So he had hurt the cowboy. He had never meant to. How was he supposed to have reacted? He had not intended to make the situation worse. And now, knowing that the little blonde cowboy was hurting inside, he felt even worse for how he had treated him.

In the silence between the two night guards, Owen listened to the lighthearted conversations of the people around him. He wondered for a moment how they could live their lives so well with the innocence of never knowing what happens to other people they never knew. He realized he was being philosophical, but he could not help it.

Luckily, Larry broke the silence with a soft chuckle. Owen looked at him with a puzzled expression, his fellow night guard's shoulders shaking as he struggled to contain his laughter.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Larry said, now able to still his laughter. "I was just thinking about how similar you and Octavius look. Are you related to him, by any chance?"

Owen shrugged. "I don't think so. It would be….interesting to be, I suppose, but I'm really not sure."

"Ah." Larry said, giving a faint nod. "I just figured it would make sense." He looked down at his food, and then back at Owen. "Should we just, take this all home?" He asked, wanting to get away from the dark atmosphere they had created. He could see Owen was also growing uncomfortable, and was relieved when he nodded his consent.

Larry called over the waitress, who gave them each a takeout box before taking Larry's change. Owen had a few spare coins on him, and insisted that he pay the tip. After that was done, the two headed for the door to leave.

"Oops, pardon me, ma'am." Owen said after bumping into a woman.

She was dressed in a waitress' uniform, and seemed to be running late for work. He gave her only a small glance as he quickly followed Larry. He missed the familiar, narrow, glaring blue eyes that gazed at his uniform with malice as he left, following Larry into the cool morning air.

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Owen awoke after a short five hour slumber to the annoying blare of his alarm clock. Like almost all normal humans of the Earth, he loathed the damned device, and just barely kept himself from throwing it across the room. With a groggy yawn, he sat up and slammed his fist down on the alarm. Once it was quiet, he stretched and gave his back a quick scratch. It was time to begin another eventful night at his new job.

Owen slipped out of bed, trudging tiredly over to his closet and took out his uniform. Owen was a creature of habit, and prefered things neat and somewhat tidy. If he had the energy, he would iron out his uniform and store it properly every time he took it off. He had already decided to wash it at least twice a week, and avoid eating messy foods when he was wearing it.

Owen put on his uniform, and carefully inspected himself in front of his bedroom mirror. He did not look have bad, and he gave himself a nod of approval. He had given himself enough time for his daily grooming routine, and he ran a comb quickly through his hair to give it that professional, all business appearance. When he was finished, he gave himself a confident smile.

And then he saw it. A piece of food caught in his teeth. He gave an annoyed sigh and made his way into the bathroom. He rummaged around the medicine cabinet until he came upon the floss. He pulled it out and set the white container aside, grabbing up his toothbrush. He did a thorough job of brushing, before finishing off with a swish of mouthwash. When he was done, Owen once again smiled in the mirror. The food was gone, and he put away the unneeded floss.

Owen left the bathroom and made his way into the kitchen. He went into his practically bare fridge and grabbed an apple from the shelf. He needed to go grocery shopping again soon. Hopefully, his next paycheck would be enough. He would need to be very cost weary.

Which, he reminded himself as he heard a heavy drip beneath his sink, was something that would be very difficult in the next few months. When he had returned home after talking with Larry, he had discovered his sink had been leaking all night. He had cleaned up the mess, and called a repairman. That had taken him about three hours, since Owen had wanted it done as cheaply as possible, but had faced difficulties finding someone who was willing to do it for so little.

It was just another reminder to Owen of how tough he had it. Then again, he reminded himself, there were those who had it worse. His thoughts drifted to the little cowboy he had met in the museum.

He had been thinking on the meeting whilst trying to sleep, and he had discovered a way in which he could possibly cheer him up. But he just could not think of anything that might help him play out this idea. Maybe he would ask Larry or someone about some of the things the cowboy liked.

With that thought, Owen smiled, gathered up his evening bag, and left the apartment.

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Larry looked out the window of his office, waiting somewhat impatiently for Owen to arrive. He knew he could not stay mad at Owen, considering his circumstances, but one would think someone who was so desperate to keep their job would at least make sure to arrive on time. He looked down at his watch again. It was already half an hour after sunset. If Owen was any later, Larry would have no choice but to write him up. Which, he really did not want to do.

With a sigh, Larry stood up from his chair and opened the office door. He then jumped slightly in surprise. He had been expecting to see the museum's exhibits just milling about. Instead, there was Owen, standing in the doorway, hand poised as if to knock on his door.

"Larry," He said with a smile. "I have an idea to cheer Jedediah up."