always and forever is forever young
your shadow on the pavement, the dark side of the sun
Mallos had spent almost his entire morning and a disproportionately large amount of effort picking the bars off his window with a scalpel, but it was worth it. It was worth it when the nurse came in around lunchtime, yelped and dropped the lunch tray at the sight of the open, free window. It was worth it when he had to go into another ward and wait for three quarters of an hour while the nurses stripped his room apart, searching in vain for the missing bars. It was worth it when they eventually gave up and called the smith, who grumbled that he wouldn't be able to mend the bars if he didn't actually have them and predicted that it would take at least a day to manufacture a new set. It was worth it when the nurses locked him back in his room, wondering aloud how he'd managed to to remove and hide the bars so effectively without any tools.

Worth every painstaking, raw-fingered, foiling second.

Unfortunately, after that, it didn't do much to relieve his boredom. Mallos had expected to be checked up on more regularly, since the doctors had ordered the bars in the first place because they thought he might turn suicidal while he was having one of his episodes, but no one did. He'd flung the window open defiantly, but now that proved to be a pointless gesture. As the day wore on the air cooled, and he eventually preferred to shut the window to retain the heat.

Frustrated, Mallos threw everything that would fit out of the window, including his bedsheets. He'd probably regret that later, but his ability to care about future consequence was hindered by his blackening mood. With nothing else to do, he carefully removed the brick from the wall which contained the secret compartment where he'd hidden the scalpel, window bars, and his cigarettes. He took out the scalpel, replaced the brick, and proceeded to occupy himself by dissecting his bedside table. Maybe if he took apart the entire room before lights out they'd have to move him somewhere temporarily, and he'd be able to get out from between these four stupid walls.

He was engrossed in his criminal activity when an insistent tapping sound broke his concentration. The hand with the scalpel slipped and scraped the wooden side of the bedside table, narrowly missing his other, left hand. Mallos glanced up and found his grandson rapping on the glass of the window.

As you do.

Without hesitation or any signs of outward surprise, he put the scalpel down on the tabletop, went to the window and pushed it open. Tristan climbed inside and jumped onto the ground, straightening up to fall height – which was... quite tall. Quite a bit taller, in fact, since the last time Mallos had seen him. And broader-shouldered. The Spaniard had apparently been comatose for just over three months, and with the additional month he had been hospital-bound, it had been at least four months since he'd last seen his grandson. Tristan had evidently used that time to try and catch up with him height-wise.

“Hold on, let me check my schedule,” he replied, moving back over to the semi-dissected bedside table to pick up an imaginary book off it. He pretended to flick through the pages. “Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope – nothing I can't miss.” He snapped the imaginary diary shut, pretended to toss it on the bed, picked up the scalpel again and slid it carefully into his belt. You never know. “Let's get out of here.”

The air was fresh and sharp, and unusually cool for summer. It felt more like a chilly autumn evening than a summer afternoon. Mallos went down first, so that he could catch Tristan if the latter slipped and fell, and slid all the way down the drainpipe to the ground. The things he'd thrown out of the window weren't down here, which meant that the guards must have removed them already and just not brought them back to him. Bastards. The two Basque dogs Mallos had given to Tristan as puppies were here, lazing in the sun, along with Celidon, who looked as though he'd doubled in size since Mallos saw him last.

It was broad daylight still, which would make sneaking out of the castle grounds an exciting challenge. Mallos considered their options as he turned to he turned to check that Tristan had made it down to the ground okay.

“Are we walking or riding?” He surveyed the grounds, but there was no one else visible – yet. “Might take too long to tack a pair of horses if you haven't already.”

i can feel you in the silence saying, “let forever be,
love, and only love, will set you free.”