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A rap on the door pulled Gerald out of the mindless state he'd reached scrubbing at the sink. Pausing for a moment to collect himself, he put down the sponge and walked around the counter and up to the door of El Rancho.
"Sorry to come round so late," Hunter with a tension tempered by exhaustion in his voice, "but do you mind if I crash here tonight?"
"No, of course not, come in." Gerald said flatly, moving aside for Hunter and closing the door behind him.
"Thanks, mate," Hunter said, dropping onto the sofa. Gerald followed, glancing over at the sink before turning himself away from it and towards Hunter instead.
"Is everything all right?" Hunter snorted, and Gerald quickly backpedaled. "I mean, of course it's not, I was just wondering why--"
"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped.
Gerald opened his mouth as if to snipe back, then closed it again and whirled around to march over to the sink to grab the sponge. "Of course not." he asked, painstakingly evenly.
The sound of scrubbing against the counter filled the silence for a few long moments before Hunter finally sighed and relented. "It's not-- It's just been a long day."
"For both of us," Gerald agreed, softening.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't impose on you at a time like this." Hunter's age was forever causing him trouble, but unlike the brash immaturity that normally colored his personality, at that moment he sounded young.
"Oh, don't be silly," Gerald said, solicitous, throwing the sponge back into the sink and coming over to sit next to Hunter on the couch, draping a comforting arm across his back.
"You just buried your wife."
While his first instinct was to correct him, something about the entire concept brought Gerald up short. He thought for a moment before responding, "On paper, maybe, but you're just as entitled to mourn Morgan as me." Hunter started to shake his head, but something felt like it was sliding into place for Gerald, "No, you are. And you're allowed to lean on me, too. I want you to."
"Why?"
"Well, she loved us, and we both loved her."
"Exactly. No offense, mate, but Morgan was really all we ever had in common."
"But we were partners, weren't we? I'm not going to just abandon you now that she's-- gone." Gerald's voice broke on the last word, but he held his ground, staring Hunter down.
There was a time not that long in the past that Hunter would have vehemently argued against that assertion, but in his second show of maturity in one night, he took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let blew it out. "You know what? You're right. Thanks."
Mollified, if a bit surprised, Gerald smiled brightly. "Good. Anytime."
"Anyway, I'm knackered, so I'd better turn in."
Gerald hesitated, not feeling like the conversation was quite finished, but whatever he'd been on the verge of realizing before had slipped away when Hunter had surprised him by accepting his sympathy. "Oh. Right." He stood, bringing his fingers together in front him in nervous energy, glancing around. Hunter would surely sleep on the couch rather than disturb Morgan's room, which meant he couldn't very well continue to scrub at imaginary dirt in the kitchen. He had no choice but to face his bed.
Hunter must have seen something in his expression, because this time it was his turn to put a hand on Gerald's elbow. "Try and get some rest, eh?" he said gently.
With a wan smile, Gerald turned to head to his room. "Good night, Hunter."
"Good night."