Sorin had been friends with Sidro since they were six years old. One of his worst memories was also his favorite. The first night he was in Anton Castle, Sidro, a small boy with spilling dark hair and even darker eyes climbed up onto his cot and spoke softly to him. Though neither of them spoke the language of the other, communication was still shared and a bond was formed. Sorin knew he never would have survived the castle if it hadn't been for Sidro, and through the years of experiments and tests, had protected Sidro in his own way.
The empath had bad days and though it had been a while since they escaped to St. Margaret's, Sorin still realized immediately that his best friend was suffering. Guilt had to be shrugged off, lest Sidro catch onto it and feel the same. Sorin still scolded himself for not keeping a closer eye on Sidro, for not being there before he even had to ask. Sorin was busy these days. Between running Barclay's shop, which was a full time endeavor for him, and practicing his own magic, Sorin had let his promises start to slide.
How long had Sidro been like this? He should've come sooner. Should've kept a closer eye. Should have known, like he knew before, feeling it in his heart that something was wrong. Their blood bond was strong magic and now that Sorin was finally opening himself to listen, he could hear and feel that Sidro did indeed need him.
Sorin ran across campus. He'd been at Hydra dorm, working over the cauldron for a new set of potions when he'd gotten Sidro's strange message. He hadn't needed a translation to be on his way. The cauldron was taken off the fire and the potion would be spoiled, but more important was getting to Sidro and helping him find his peace, his center again.
Out of breath, remembering to check his own emotions at the door, Sorin entered Pegasus dorm and walked briskly to Sidro's door. He slipped inside and closed it behind him quietly, scanning the dark room as his eyes adjusted. "Ro?" he called softly.
Removing his gloves and scarf, Sorin crossed the room towards the lump of blankets and the person in them. His heart ached for his blood brother, to see him this bad, and Sorin quickly removed his coat and the thermos he'd carried with him from Barclay's room. In it was a hot tea with an herbal restorative he'd mixed quickly with a touch of magic before heading out. He'd restock Barclay's supplies later.
Removing shoes next, Sorin slipped into the bed and carefully touched Sidro's cheek with his fingers, slowly cupping his face. "Ro..." Blue eyes scanned his friend's dark tired expression. "I'm here. It will be alright." Romanian as his fallback native tongue, Sorin slid in closer and pressed his warm body to Sidro's, cradling him closer with soothing thoughts.