"Jedediah?" Octavius asked, blinking at the still body. He took a small step forwards and shook it, cringing at the cold, smooth feeling of his once human arm. He was aware of Ahkmenrah and Larry nearby, neither wanting to take the Roman away from his friend.
Octavius felt something inside of him break. Something important. Something vital. Jedediah was dead. He had watched him die. A moment before he had been about to cry, but now- he felt numb. Like he couldn't figure out what had happened. Why his friend was so still. Why his eyes were so glassy and...painted. They looked painted. And the fabric of his clothes was stiff and stuck to his skin, which felt smooth, almost plastic. But waxy, like a candle. And his face was not as lively as it had once been. Instead, it was straight and chiseled, like a sculpture. Like it was...molded. All the humanness and life gone from it. It was unreal.
"Jedediah…?" Octavius asked again, shaking him for a second time. Once again, there was no reply.
"Octavius..." Larry whispered, stepping forwards. Ahkmenrah put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, and he slowly turned to face the Egyptian.
"Do not bother him, Larry." Ahkmenrah whispered, pulling Larry back. "He must not be disturbed."
Larry's shoulders sagged, and he bowed his head with a defeated sigh. He felt sadness gnaw on his heart, but squeezed his eyes shut to deny the tears that threatened to fall. He did not want to cry now. Not while Octavius was suffering worse than he. He could grieve later.
"Ahkmenrah," He asked, sitting heavily in his chair. The pharaoh looked up at him with mournful eyes. "How long until sunrise?"
"I think…" Ahkmenrah paused, before glancing up at the clock hanging above the couch. "An hour or two."
Larry nodded. "And the Tablet? Should we shut it down early?"
Ahkmenrah thought for a moment, before nodding. "That seems wise. I feel we all need an extended rest. At least Octavius. The Tablet's power will not be fully out of Jedediah's system for a while. While it is still around him, he must not be touched."
"But Octavius just-"
"I know. But I do not believe it was enough to upset anything."
"Alright." Larry said, letting out a deep sigh. "I'll tell him-"
"No." Ahkmenrah said, shaking his head wearily. "It would be best if he did not know. Just move him to his exhibit once you have sent us to sleep."
Larry sighed, and waved for the Egyptian to follow him. They walked out of the office quietly, shutting the door gently behind them. They followed the usual hall to Ahkmenrah's exhibit, neither of them speaking. They passed a few exhibits here and there, but did not reply to their greetings nor puzzled looks. On their way they ran into Teddy, and Larry explained what had happened.
"I see," Teddy said, a deep, sad frown on his face. "I will spread the word of the early morning. Give me about half an hour."
"Alright." Larry said, nodding once. He allowed the president to pat his shoulder, before heading off to do his business. He then motioned for Ahkmenrah that it was time to continue on their way.
"Larry," Ahkmenrah asked, climbing into his sarcophagus once they reached his exhibit. "Will you be alright?"
"Hm?" Larry asked, looking up from staring at his hands.
"Will you be alright?"
The night guard quickly nodded, his eyes distant as if in thought. The Egyptian sighed, and reached out a hand, balancing himself on the edge of his small coffin. Larry looked at it, before taking it and giving it a small shake, his head once again staring at the floor. With his other hand, Ahkmenrah patted his friend's shoulder, before pulling away.
"I believe our early sun is upon us." He said, lowering himself into the gold sarcophagus. The thought of going in early bothered him, but he kept his complaint to himself.
"Right." Larry said. He was about to turn the middle piece of the dhinning artifact when he heard Teddy's voice behind him.
"Everyone's in there place, Lawrence." The president said. His expression was stony, but his eyes betrayed his emotions. "Will you give me time to get into position?"
"Yeah." Larry said, slumping against the wall. "Five minutes."
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Octavius stood on his knees beside the makeshift bed, his head resting on folded arms, one hand gripping the waxen hand of his friend. He was only asleep, he told himself. The stillness was just sleep. It had to be sleep. Sometimes the Tablet messed up. Surely the cowboy was only so still and wax because of some small malfunction. It must be that. He would wake up. Tomorrow night he would be wide awake and grinning. Perhaps scolding the Roman for his worry.
He could not be dead, and Octavius would not accept for a second that his best friend of many years was dead. That was not how things worked in the museum. No one ever died unless the sun got them. the Tablet fixed everything. Once he had fallen and scraped his arm. It had been healed during the day and the next night was completely gone. So it must heal Jedediah. It had to.
"Jedediah," He said, squeezing the frozen hand. "I will be here when you wake, my friend. I will see you in the next evening. I promise I will not leave until you wake up. I never break my promises to you." He was silent, for a moment questioning what he was doing. His mind was numb, but a small part of it told him the truth. He was choosing to ignore it. "You will be alright. Tomorrow night we shall explore. I feel like exploring with you. I think you will like that. Then we can sit and chat, perhaps. Right?" He was silent again, fighting off the knowledge that his friend was dead. "R-Right…?"
After another moment of struggle he gave up the idea that Jedediah would wake up, and choked down a gasp of breath as he bowed his head, letting out a strangled sob. His shoulders shook as he gave way to more sobs, and he erased all hope from his mind.
He felt the cold, pricking sensation of induced sleep, and his senses blacked out as the Tablet took over.
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Larry sighed as he slumped down on his couch, his keys dropping from his hands. He had not turned on the light, and was sitting in darkness, staring out at the New York skyline. He looked down at the streets full of cars, before rising to his feet and closing the curtains. Jed had loved cars. And the last thing he wanted to think about was the cowboy.
As he stumbled into the bathroom for a shower he let his mind drown in his guilt. It was his fault Jedediah was gone. He should have made it a point to reach him sooner. Maybe to force the man to give him back. But that would not have helped. Jed had been roped by the neck, and so had Larry. Nothing he could have done would have helped the situation.
He sighed as he got dressed in his sleeping clothes, thinking deeply. Someone at the museum was bound to be blaming themselves as he was now. Octavius and Ahkmenrah most likely. He'd known Ahkmenrah long enough to know that he was probably blaming himself, having no choice but to be surrounded by his subconscious thoughts as he slept forcefully in his sarcophagus. It was not his fault though. He could not have known that the spell he'd placed on the cowboy would harm him Octavius, too, was probably blaming himself. Or worse. He was probably trying to ignore his friend's death. He'd been just as helpless, if not more, than Larry had been. And the night guard knew he would be hit the hardest.
He lay awake, staring up at the ceiling as he thought of the poor cowboy. His end had been painful and sudden, and would shake the museum for many weeks. And he himself would not sleep for many nights.