Geralt had been fishing. A lot. When he wasn't knee-high in the ocean, dragging the water for fish that weren't there, the witcher was in his room ...moping. Jaskier and Ciri had been gone for over a week. All of there personal items and belongings were still in their rooms but they were nowhere to be found. Geralt had torn the hotel apart in search of them on the first day. By the next morning, it was clear to him that they simply weren't here and there was nothing he could do but wait.
If he'd been back in his own world, Geralt knew he could busy himself with a good hunt. He did have Roach still to keep him company and Yennefer was actually pleasant company. When Geralt could be bothered to drag himself from his room. From their room. He hadn't realized how attached to Jaskier he had really become. Or how much he would miss the stupid bard when he was no longer around. The room felt empty without him. He felt empty.
It would sometimes be well into the afternoon before the witcher would pull himself out from under the blankets. Roach's whine would usually be the thing that got him moving. Even if he was wallowing in his own misery, he couldn't ignore Roach. This morning, she seemed extra determined to wake him up. He felt her cold nose shove itself into his neck and he groaned but didn't open his eyes. "I'm awake, I'm awake! Give me a moment to get my ass up." He swatted at her eager paws half-heartedly. "Let the heartbroken rest a little," he snorted and laughed at his own terrible joke.
He expected to hear Roach whine again but when he heard a voice-
Geralt snapped his eyes open. The clothes he didn't recognize but the body in them, he definitely did. He pushed himself up, legs sliding over the edge of the bed. "Jaskier?!" His hand whipped out and he took the other man's wrist hard in his hand. "Is this a trick? Because if it is, I'm going to be very cross." Yet, oh, how hopeful he felt that it wasn't.