There are a lot of things that Hal has been since he met Leo, and started his routines. His solid effort to keep his darker parts at bay. There are more things that he has been since he lost them, since he met Annie and Tom. 'Complacent' has never been one of those things. He knows who the man waiting in the wings is, what he is capable of, in a way that he knows Tom and Annie don't. That they only know this other man, routines and rituals and superstitions built around himself like a cage to keep himself and all of his faces just far enough away from the world. He knows what holds the demon at bay because it is the only thing that has worked like this in the times that he's tried. He knows not to chance them, and he knows a million other things that he must do when he sees them, countless tiny rules that he must be sure the universe abides by.
It's because Tom and Annie don't understand that yet that he finds hiumself in the middle of a grocery store, carefully re-organizing a display of canned peas by expiration date and insuring that the labels face out perfectly instead of sinking his teeth into one of the far too many shoppers going on their way. By the time he feels someone tap his shoulder, it's been ten minutes and he's forgotten what he was sent into the aisle for in the first place, and organized an entire brand's line of products.
"This is insane," he snaps after his momentary shock passes, whirling around with intent to give Tom yet another piece of his mind regarding his involvement in the trip. "And don't you dare say a word about how long I'm...taking.." His vitriolic rant is cut short by the realization that he is staring at a little old woman and he backs up subconsciously, pressing against the shelves he's just been organizing.
She smiles at him though, unnerving him even further, and pats his arm as he stares down at the point of contact. "Working you hard in here deary, aren't they? Don't worry, you're doing a find job, just like my Bruce. Very thorough. I'll only bother you a mo', can you tell me where they've got the flour hidden these days?"
Hal blinks at her, mouth slightly agape as he tries to remember if he's seen the flour, "I don't work here..." said low as if she's caused him to temporarily forget that fact.
"Seven," he hears someone call, and Hal fills with a unique mixture of relief and annoyance when he realizes it's Tom. The woman looks over at him, and he continues on. "Flour y'were askin' abou' right?"
"Thank you, dear. Oh.." she tells him, and then puts a hand beside her mouth to tell him, quieter, "I think this young man could use a break. he seems very tense." Tom nods in understanding, and before he can open his mouth, she's already gone on her way.
Tom watches for a moment as Hal stands still with his eyes closed, back still against the shelves, and the bustle of the crowded supermarket continues on around them. "Hal..?" The question goes almost unnoticed and he slips his hand around Hal's, feeling a small flicker of something warm in his chest when Hal turned and looked at his face, not his hand.
"This..." Hal starts to say, his grip on Tom's hand purposefully tight, "Is your idea of empty?"
The shrug that Tom gives is one shouldered, though his expression is at least slightly apologetic. "There's a game on, or somefin', 'ow was I suppos'd t'know? D'you get the beans're ya jus' providin' the store wif free labor?"
Hal opens his mouth, but closes it again when Tom gives him a soft look, shaking his head before speaking. "I haven't made it that far. I'll get them." He tells Tom, thankful for the reminder, and edges away from the shelf, letting go of Tom's hand and straightening his clothes and an errant can before the two of them start down the aisle.