A dull thud ripped Bolion out of sleep, his many experiences with violence in the night ensuring he was a light sleeper. His breath faltered once, but then resumed it's slow, sleeplike pattern. His eyes however, were wide open. In his sleep, he had shifted onto his belly, facing towards the bed. It only took him a few seconds to see the pack half strewn across the floor and Della's restless movements, and put two and two together.
He stood up groggily, faltering for only a second as the blood rushed back into his legs. He quickly gathered Della's various items without paying them much attention, and replaced them in her bag. He set it at the foot of the bed so that it wouldn't fall again. It was then that he approached Deloria, and after only a second's deliberation, gently took her head in his hands. He proceeded to very lightly rub her temples, and held her in place as she fought the motion in her sleep. Several minutes later, seemingly with no success he released her, and decided to leave the room. Tired, but awake, he came down the stairs to the now much less alcoholic common room. Lassar was stewing something in a large brass pot. "Well hello there! I thought you were going to sleep through the whole day!"
Bolion belatedly replied, for he was still groggy, "That was the plan, but Dell is restless and I can't sleep, so here I am."
Lassar stopped his stirring and leaned on his elbow, for all the world looking like a renaissance painting. He stared off thoughtfully, then after some time asked, "Is she allergic to oregano oil?"
"I've no clue." Bolion said truthfully. He hadn't the foggiest idea about Della's allergies, or preferences, or anything really. He only knew what she told him, and that was very little.
"Well in any case," Lassar continued, "Try some of it." He beckoned Bolion over to the counter, and passed him a small bottle of golden liquid. "Temples, eyelids, and jaw muscles."
"Jaw muscles?" Bolion inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes towards the ear, the bunches of muscles that control when you bite. Usually bad dreams and stress induce clenching." Lassar said knowledgeably.
Bolion smiled slightly, and thanked him, adding, "When did you become the botanist-physician aficionado?"
Lassar smiled, a wide and happy smile, saying, "You've been gone quite some time Bolion. I've had time to hone some skills other than stirring and yelling at drunken patrons you know."
Bolion made to go back upstairs, but was stopped by Lassar, who had clasped his arm in one of his large hands. Bolion looked up at the mustachioed man, a questioning look in his eye. Lassar's voice, deep and rumbling, came surprisingly softly.
"Welcome home, lad. I know you've been avoiding this place for a while, but... it's good to see you again." Lassar let Bolion's arm go and went back to his pot, but Bolion paused, before returning to the stairs. When he came to the door, he eased it open slowly, and slipped in, closing it equally slowly and silently. He then looked at the bottle in his hands, and began to think, firstly, if he should even apply the oils, but secondly, how in hell he would even do it if he tried.
