At the fork between the hallway to the left and right, Chas stopped and watched the exorcist stagger to the right, wondering whether or not he should follow. On the one hand, he had probably reached a before unknown level of clinginess by now – what with terminal cancer and all, the thought still was all too surreal – on the other hand, the way that John expectedly still looked as bad only justified that, in Chas’ opinion at least.
The fact that he had not the slightest idea where his own room was located did not help much, nor did the fact that he wasn’t really all that keen on sleeping alone somewhere in between a couple of madmen. Or rather, at least not between any that he didn’t know.
Too tired to put much thought into the whole issue of just where his room was – and thinking he might end up in someone else’s? Not good – the boy made his way after John. That the exorcist as much as managed to still inspect his room like that, considering the circumstances, almost seemed like a miracle.
Folding his arms across his chest, Chas tilted his head to the side, his tone all too obviously insecure. “John … can I stay with you?” Not that he wasn’t expecting a clear “no” on that one, anyway. It was worth the try, still, and even a grumpy, half-past dead John sounded so much better than the rest of the inhabitants of this manor.