Umm... yeah... haven't updated in a short while. I... got engulfed in the Gravity Falls fandom. And that several chapters I had written in advance of the ones I've posted? Well, I caught up with them. So updates will be slower now, and nonexistent during my trip to Sweden this month, but I promise that I will finish this story, even if it turns out to be the death of me! I will not fail you!

Okay. Reviews.

Eislicht: Hello! Yes, it is imperative that the idiot warden is captured. Clarity's not done beating him up yet! And I'm glad that you think Phoenix is a suitable nickname for Skul. Yeah, Saracen has a bad sense of humour.

Mya2015: Wow, thanks! I'm so glad you like this story! Hopefully the rest of it won't disappoint.

Chapter 24 – Overworked

The moment Skulduggery felt sleep creeping in, he jerked awake and slapped himself until the drowsiness dissipated. Another thing he didn't like about being alive; he kept getting tired, and he couldn't do his job properly.

"Skull," Valkyrie said, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm going to take a break. You ought to get some sleep as well."

"I'd take you up on that offer," Skulduggery began. "But I am not tired, therefore, I do not require sleep. Go; I can work on this case alone for a while."

Valkyrie gave him a sceptical look, but didn't press on; instead standing up and going to one of the lounges that the Sanctuary accommodated specifically for tired employees. Skulduggery's bloodshot eyes followed her wearily until she left, before returning to the papers that lay scattered before him. Ever since he'd found out that one of the many villains who'd abused Erskine was involved in the drug dealing case about a week and a half ago, he'd been working nonstop in order to ensure that the bastard got caught. For the last few days, he hadn't even slept, he was so focused on the task.

However, five minutes after Valkyrie left, Skulduggery was slumped over his desk; overcome by the sleep he'd so desperately tried to fight off.

Erskine entered the office to find Skulduggery asleep at the desk. Of course. He'd been depriving himself of sleep for two days.

Typical. I walk in to find him like this, Erskine thought. But then again, he hasn't been worked himself this hard in a while. Well, when he was alive, at least.

Quietly, Erskine entered the room, placed his coffee on the desk and gently coaxed Skulduggery into wakefulness by shaking his shoulder and calling his name softly. Once roused, the detective stared up at him blearily with bloodshot, half-lidded eyes.

"Sorry Phoenix," was the hushed apology. "But you were going to get a bad back if you were left slumped over the desk like that. Trust me, I know."

Skulduggery mumbled some half-conscious, unintelligible nonsense as he rubbed his eyes before rising to his feet and treating Erskine to a chaste kiss. "I've missed you."

"Skulduggery, it's only been a few days since we last saw each other, and the last time we spoke was just three hours ago."

"I know. I'm just… really tired right now and I can't think straight. My emotions are rather mixed up."

"That's what happens when you overwork yourself for two days without sleeping."

"It'll be worth it when that bastard goes to court."

"Not if you fall asleep during the court hearing, you numbskull."

Skulduggery frowned. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Yes, now come with me. You need a proper rest."

"Let me guess; you're taking me to the Graveyard, aren't you?"

"Yes, and don't worry. Ghastly's complained about the name as well, but Mesmer isn't letting him change it."

"She has a horrible sense of humour, that woman."

The Graveyard was a lounge area allocated for the Dead Men and their associates upon insistence from Mesmer, who believed that the war heroes were entitled to it after having served Ireland so well for so long. Ghastly and Valkyrie were the most frequent users of it, but Saracen and Dexter visited every so often and used the lounge as a meet-up venue. Skulduggery hadn't seen it before, but so far, he was impressed. The couches were pretty comfortable, and the colours were neither dull nor garish. In fact, they were rather relaxing; soft hues of purple and blue mixed with lavish browns that should have clashed, but fitted surprisingly well. A large TV perched over a fireplace; currently switched off; in the corner was a small desk, and was that a snack table by the wall?

The moment he saw it, Skulduggery's stomach started growling, making him realise he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper meal. He could actually feel the emptiness that his hunger had carved into his insides, and the gurgling demands of his digestive organs were beginning to get a little painful.

"When was the last time you ate?" Erskine asked worriedly, sipping his coffee briefly. "I swear, China would have heard that from her office."

"Screw her," Skulduggery retorted. "She's the one who said I have to put the majority of my effort into that blasted case."

"I'm guessing it's not to benefit me, though."

"Afraid not. She didn't even bat an eyelid when I told her about the warden's involvement. Bastard didn't even get an arrest warrant."

"Knowing you and how hard you've been working, he will soon."

"Oh, trust me, he will."

"I like your determination, but right now, you need something to eat. Go on, before someone files a complaint about the earthquakes."

"Hey, it's not that loud!"

"Stop arguing and get some food off of the table."

"Okay!" Skulduggery flustered, walking over to the snack table and observing the array of food that it had to offer. But of course, he wasn't focusing on the food any more, just how much it warmed him when Erskine behaved like this. When protective worry showed as irritation, it was a reminder of how he used to be before his bold, smooth-talking personality got shut out and destroyed, and it gave Skulduggery hope that some part of it could be salvaged in order to make Erskine that little bit stronger.

Skulduggery was pulled from his thoughts when his stomach ordered him to focus on the food and not his lover. Eager to get rid of the cramps of hunger, he picked up a plate and started piling food onto it. His meal consisted of a ham sandwich, a handful of prawn cocktail crisps, six of those mini cocktail sausages that he'd seen people at the Requiem Ball eating with cheese, a cupcake and a large double chocolate chip cookie.

"That's healthy," Erskine remarked sarcastically as Skulduggery sat down next to him.

"It's food," was the blunt reply. "You wanted me to get it."

"Let's just hope that you're not allergic to chocolate then."

Skulduggery paused; the sandwich halfway to his mouth; the look on his face nothing more than comical. It was a mix of worry, shock and 'am I going to die from eating this?' Then he just shrugged and put it in his mouth, making a show of trying to fit in as much of the sandwich as possible.

"What are you trying to prove by doing that?" Erskine questioned.

"Nuffin'," Skulduggery managed to reply through a mouthful of bread and meat. "I'm jusht 'ungry."

Erskine just stared at the immature display blankly. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Skulduggery's response was an incomprehensible mumble and a no-less-indecipherable gesture of his hand, which was basically just waving it above his head.

"Forget I said anything."

Skulduggery shrugged, content to just finish eating his sandwich. Once done, he started to eat the crisps. They were okay, but he probably wouldn't be rushing to the shops for them any time soon. He also decided he didn't like the cocktail sausages.

"They taste better with cheese," Erskine said when he noticed the grimace on Skulduggery's face. "That's why they're always there at the Requiem Balls; appetizers that no one wants, but eats anyway because they're worried that they'll offend someone."

"They're still disgusting," Skulduggery grumbled as he picked up the cupcake and pulled off the shiny silver wrapper. It was a typical vanilla cupcake with light blue icing and pink flowers iced on top. As pretty as it was, it didn't stop him from biting down into it and relishing the sugary sweetness of it and the comfortingly familiar taste of vanilla. "This, however, is actually quite nice."

Erskine smiled at Skulduggery's childish enjoyment and leaned back into the sofa, allowing himself to daydream. It didn't last long, because he was interrupted from his thoughts when the smell of chocolate wafted under his nose. Looking at Skulduggery, he noticed that the detective in question was smiling at him playfully and waving a piece of the chocolate chip cookie in front of his face.

"Go on," he coaxed, bringing the cookie to Erskine's lips. "Try it."

Curious as to what was going on, Erskine opened his mouth expectantly. He shouldn't really have been all that surprised when a pair of soft, warm lips suddenly met with his own, but when one expects cookies instead of a kiss, it can be somewhat surprising. A gentle hand ran down his side, sending shivers along his spine, and fingers tenderly entwined themselves in the locks of his hair to entice him into a deeper kiss. Blazing heat raged in his blood and he melted into Skulduggery's embrace as desire flooded his mind. The hand that was resting on his waist slowly trailed down to his hip and stroked along his thigh; the touch sparking nervous pleasure in him. Bliss coursed through his entire being; dulling his senses to the point where all that mattered was the man in front of him and the unbearably wonderful euphoria that was overtaking him.

"Hey, do everyone a favour and don't start making out on the couch."

Startled by the sudden intrusion, Skulduggery pulled away, prompting a needy whine from Erskine. There was a dazed look in his eyes, and he was rather oblivious to Valkyrie's presence in the room. Speaking of which, the girl in black was stood by the door, staring at the pair blankly.

"You have no idea how weird it is to see you two kiss like that," she said bluntly.

Skulduggery just looked at his partner in confusion, wondering why she wasn't making ludicrous accusations or questioning his sanity. He was so caught up in his bewilderment that he didn't notice when Erskine huddled up to him and started nuzzling his neck endearingly.

"Clarity told me after Erskine got sick the other week," Valkyrie explained. "And hey, I know that it's your choice who you kiss, but I think Erskine might be high."

Somewhat baffled, Skulduggery looked down towards the younger mage, who was wrapping his arms around his neck and rubbing his face against Skulduggery's.

"What are you up to, hmm?" the detective asked, observing the golden eyes that were glazed over with lust. "Something wrong?"

Erskine murmured something incomprehensible under his breath and leaned in for another kiss, haphazardly catching Skulduggery's lips in his own. Despite his concerns, Skulduggery returned it, allowing his boyfriend to press up against him in eagerness. It was enjoyable, but there seemed to be a forcefulness behind it that gave the kiss a bitter edge.

Eventually, Skulduggery pushed away, causing Erskine to growl in annoyed protest.

"Where did that sudden attitude come from?" Skulduggery questioned, his tone taking on a slight edge that managed to draw Erskine out of his desire-driven daze. "I know it's nice to know that you're improving, but you could at least tell me first."

Shame immediately found its way into Erskine's eyes, and he hastily looked away. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "It's just… the nightmares have been getting worse. I haven't been sleeping too well."

Pained guilt immediately stabbed at Skulduggery's chest, and he began to realise that it was probably not the best decision to spend consecutive days and nights working at the Sanctuary whilst Erskine was still trying to fight back his own fears and problems. True, there'd been obvious signs of improvement, but that had been when they were together to support each other. Skulduggery had rarely left his lover's side until recently.

"No, it's my fault," he said quietly, pulling Erskine close and pressing his face into his lover's hair, breathing in the scent of cheap shampoo and burnt toast. "I've been neglecting you."

"You've been trying to help me."

"But I've been doing it wrong. Yes, putting that abusive psychopath to justice will give you closure, but you still need help recovering. You still get nervous around the others; I've noticed; and there's the problem you have with physical contact."

"I've been getting better. Just a moment ago, when you-."

"When I touched you. But remember when Dexter thought it would be funny to start a dog pile on top of Saracen and you joined in? The moment Valkyrie was sat on your back, you threw her off as if she'd stung you. I'm surprised you didn't send her flying into the ceiling."

Erskine clammed up. He had nothing to say to that. Skulduggery was right; he was far from a full recovery. When was the last time someone had managed to wrap an arm around his shoulders without making him flinch? How long had it been since he'd returned a hug without hesitation? Not before his goddamned imprisonment, that was for sure.

"Listen, as much as I love watching you two being sappy together," Valkyrie interrupted, having just sat down with a plate of food on her lap. "Skulduggery, you look like you're going to fall asleep at any moment now, and you should really just hit the hay whilst you still have your dignity intact. You don't want to wind up falling asleep in an… awkward position."

The detective immediately shot a disgruntled glare in her direction, and Erskine turned around to observe him. It was obvious; and getting more so by the second; that Skulduggery desperately needed sleep. Thick, dark purple circles surrounded his eyes, accentuating how horribly bloodshot they are, and the violet of the irises was visibly dulled down. His eyelids kept drooping every few seconds, only to snap open the moment the lapse in focus was discovered.

"She's right," Erskine said solemnly. "You need sleep."

Skulduggery opened his mouth to protest, only for a yawn to intercept his words and debunk any argument that may have been formulating in his head. Deciding that he was defeated, he reluctantly nodded in agreement before slipping out of his suit jacket and taking off his hat; placing them both on top of the back rest of the sofa.

"You win," he grumbled, kicking off his shoes. "Just don't start working on the case without me."

Erskine shifted down to Skulduggery's feet as the man lay down across the sofa with his head on his arm and legs thankfully not hanging over the armrest. It was a big sofa. The moment he was settled, the sudden, overwhelming exhaustion that had been stalking him finally pounced. His eyelids immediately slid shut and he instinctively curled up somewhat. The calming yet sinister tides of sleep took his lack of stubbornness as an opportunity to drag him down into a deep slumber.

Valkyrie waited until Skulduggery was definitely asleep before focusing her attention on Erskine. The gold-eyed mage was looking down at his boyfriend – she still couldn't believe that the two men were in a relationship – fondly; an expression that was rarely seen on his face. Ever.

"So you really care for him, huh?" Valkyrie questioned, causing Erskine to look up at her worriedly. Did she doubt him? Then again, that was likely the reason for her suspicion.

"I… of course," Erskine said. "I-."

"You're good for each other," the girl in black suddenly, taking a bite out of her sandwich. "And I can't believe I'm saying that either. Just… look after him, okay? He's more fragile than he looks."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Erskine gave Valkyrie a gratifying smile. "I know. Even before he died, he had moments when he needed protecting. His father… well, you couldn't say he was famous for winning any Best Dad awards, that's for certain. Not that he was abusive, he just… wasn't necessarily a man anyone could get along with. He was harsh, stubborn and unforgiving."

"Sounds like an asshole. Where is he now?"

Erskine shrugged. "Dead. Got shot between the eyes after Mevolent's men got him. His wife fell into depression before passing away a decade later. But I don't think much love was lost between him and Skulduggery."

"Oh. You don't seem all too bothered by that."

"The man gave him nightmares, Valkyrie," Erskine murmured, his eyes darting over to Skulduggery before flickering back to Valkyrie. He still couldn't look her in the eyes. "And would likely have attempted to kill Skulduggery if he'd lived to find out about this."

"Oh. Well… that explains why he doesn't talk much about his family. Or his past in general. Has he got any dirty secrets that you know about?"

Erskine's eyes widened before the shock was replaced with a smirk. "And why, pray tell, would I divulge my sweet beloved's darkest, most clandestine secrets to you, Valkyrie?" he questioned dramatically, the nearly forgotten remnants of his old sense of humour rising to the surface.

"Wow, look who's just eaten a poetry book," Valkyrie drawled. "But to answer your question; people are supposed to gossip about their partners. So come on; spill it. Any bad habits you want to complain about?"

"Besides his obvious stubbornness? No, there's nothing I want to complain about."

"Oh. So, he doesn't talk in his sleep? No suddenly singing Grace Kelly songs or anything like that?"

"He doesn't sing, but he occasionally talks in his sleep. But then again, so do I."

"Okay, then; next question. What's it like to kiss him?"

"This again? Saracen's already asked me this!"