The shift from the mortuary within the snow globe version of Vallo to the far superior version was notable. Besides the physical, wherein the walls were no longer cracked and the stairs less precarious, the population had grown exponentially. For half the time Nick lived in the snow globe, he had the entire mortuary to himself. Roz had been a welcome housemate, cutting into the desolation that lingered in the too large residence. And he'd selfishly welcomed Sabrina in, her presence bringing much needed warmth even if he should have hated to find her trapped as well.
Now the mortuary was a full house, and while that wasn't a bad thing, it was taking Nick some time to adjust. Sabrina had so many people who clearly loved and cared about her, and all of whom were friendly and welcoming to him, but it was a bit much to take in, all at once. So he was relieved as he made his way down to the kitchen for some coffee that there was only one other occupant.
"Good morning, sir," he offered, still uncertain on how to address Dan. The closest thing he had to a father figure of his own was Father Blackwood, who had provided no example to follow at all, and Sabrina had only her aunts, who didn't exactly follow the traditional parental roles. So formal it was, for now. "Sleep well?"
He had no idea of what time it actually was, as sleep could be elusive.
There it was again - sir. That just tickled Dan for some reason, though he wouldn’t insist it become a habit. “You can just call me Dan,” he suggested, tone warm and still a little thick from slumber - it was early, by his standards, the rest of the mortuary’s occupants continuing to snooze; he’d head to the clinic for work in a little while, already dressed in his scrubs with his comfortable-yet-not-fashionable sneakers on and his lunch packed in the fridge and ready to grab.
Right now he was sipping coffee he’d just brewed, so the kitchen was freshly scented with the rich and dark aroma of that morning fuel. “And yeah, I slept just fine. Much better than when everything was a mess.” Sleep was his thing, so he was relieved to be able to get some shut-eye now that a calm had descended; sometimes sleep came swiftly to him, the falling of an axe, other times he lay awake as the stars came out to play and the crickets chirped.
“How about you?” he asked carefully, since he knew all of this was a bit much - a good shift, but still a lot; he’d been trying to give Nick some space, since he didn’t seem as outgoing as Roz, and Claire promised to hold off on inviting him to tea parties as well - for the time being.
It was convenient that the coffee was freshly brewed, and Nick poured a cup of his own to wake himself up from the remnants of his last dream. He took a sip and considered the question.
"It's different," he admitted. "It's easier to relax here." Which meant he fell asleep easier but was lulled into dreaming with that same ease. "I dreamt I was back in the snow globe," he admitted. But even that was a break from his normal nightmares of hell and demonic torturers along with the Dark Lord himself.
"I'm glad to be out," he said, understating his relief that they had made it through alright.
That was definitely an understatement. “Being in the snowglobe was traumatic - having dreams about it is normal, after an experience like that. Trauma survivors are more likely to have nightmares and often, unfortunately,” Dan replied, setting his mug down on the table so he could get up and head to the fridge. “I see a lot of that here, in my line of work especially. But I try to help people sleep better when I can.”
The fridge door was opened, and Dan looked back at Nick questioningly. “You want some eggs or anything? Toast?” Something besides coffee - admittedly, it was sometimes the One Lone Breakfast for Dan, but that was when he was in a hurry; he tried to avoid that whenever possible, since he was on his feet all day and needed actual food to sustain him. “I usually have oatmeal but most everyone in the house hates it so I won’t subject you to that.”
Even if it was plenty delicious if you added a few flavor kicks or different textures to it. But either way, he had a couple other teenagers to look after now and making sure they had a good breakfast before school or work or whatever was important.
"I'll take the snow globe dreams," Nick replied, not elaborating. He wasn't sure yet how much Sabrina had told Dan about him or how much he wanted to share, yet. "What is your line of work?"
He knew about the clinic, but the particulars hadn't come up yet. There was so much to this brighter version of Vallo that Nick had yet to be introduced to, expanding far beyond the additional residents of the mortuary. Though it didn't really surprise him at all that in the year she was here, Sabrina had come in and made an extremely full life for herself. That was who she was, and part of what drew him to her.
"Eggs and toast?" he asked hopefully, far from the point where he'd turn down actual food after two months of eating from cans. And also oatmeal.
He wouldn’t push, and Dan had sort of become accustomed to the art of gentle nudges when it came to a headstrong person like Sabrina - even if she’d needed more than a gentle nudge to start to go to therapy, admittedly - and given that her aunts and Ambrose had disappeared and come back a couple times, he was familiar with the song and dance of giving her space while also checking in with her. Nick was obviously a different person, but they still came from the same world that was chock-full of trauma, things that no teenage kid should have to endure even if they were powerful magic users in their own right.
So, Dan would learn the ropes with him. He was important to Sabrina so he was important to Dan too.
“Eggs and toast it is,” he chuckled, pulling out the carton from the fridge; he’d heat up enough oatmeal to share as well, since he always made a pot to last the whole week. Quicker that way. “Just let me know how you like your eggs.” Claire liked them scrambled so he’d whip up a couple for her too for when she came down to eat before school - her breakfast preference was usually waffles but they couldn’t have those everyday. Carb overload.
Bread went into the toaster, and he cracked eggs in a bowl to start whisking them. “And I’m a nurse,” he added. “At the clinic. But - my niche is helping people sleep. Got a few skills to assist with that.”
"Huh," came the not-so-articulate response, but Nick regarded Dan curiously. Asking for help was not one of his stronger suits, but he managed, "I might need to check that out sometime."
"And scrambled?" Nick asked. "Whatever's easiest. I'm just happy to eat something that isn't out of a box or a can." He couldn't imagine that was going to change anytime soon. "Though Roz and I tried to make things more interesting when we were here. On our own." In that kitchen that wasn't that kitchen, when they were trying to make the most of a bad situation with no end in sight. Already it felt like another lifetime and yet Nick still had trouble believing that this version of Vallo was real.
Leaning back against the counter, he asked, "So how long have you been here?"
“Almost a year,” Dan said, cracking another couple of eggs so he could make a decently-sized pan of scrambled eggs. He put cheese in them, that was his secret - though he supposed it wasn’t much of a secret. But he also put a lot of love into them, so there was that?
He also couldn’t believe that he’d been here for that long - time passed as quick as a handful of salt melted into hot water sometimes, and then other times it dragged on and on. More of the first for him sometimes though, he’d say that much. When he thought back on everything that had happened throughout his tenure in Vallo, it seemed like someone else’s life a little bit.
Butter was added to the frying pan, and he let the eggs cook for a minute while he grabbed the bread that had popped up. “It’s - sometimes hard, to build a life here,” he admitted. “But it’s worth trying. I know Sabrina’s really glad you’re with us now. I’m glad too. I like seeing her happy.”
"Unless you're Sabrina," Nick replied easily. Sabrina seemed to know everyone and had two new father figures in her life, Dan being one of them, that he was getting to know, plus had aligned herself with different organizations and was involved in more things than he could count. None of that was bad or at all bothered him. It was just a lot.
Even Claire, living in the mortuary as a kid having a relatively standard childhood was foreign to him, as his childhood had been almost nonexistent. "Life here seems pretty normal," Nick offered. "I'm just not used to normal."
He sipped from his mug, and then added, "I'm glad she's had you. And this life and I'm glad I can be a part of it, even if it takes some time for me to adjust."
Nick definitely wasn’t alone there, with the lack of a ‘normal’ childhood. Dan’s had been saddled with trauma, he was haunted by ghosts that lingered - in his blood, his bones, hungry for his psychic essence. Hungry for his shine. The way he had grown up able to understand the inner workings of his father only when he gave in to darkness and rage, that wasn’t ‘normal.’ If there was anything he was grateful for now, it was that he was helping to raise Claire without any of that. Allison’s childhood had been cold too, her and her siblings numbered in order of usefulness and trained to be weapons by a loveless father - neither of them wanted that emptiness, that pain for Claire.
“You take all the time you need,” he assured, scrambling the eggs on the stove. This was when he added some salt and pepper and the cheese, the pièce de résistance. “Everyone’s different. I arrived here when I’d just died back home - it took me a little bit to think of it as a second chance, not just some weird afterlife.”
Now that he had buttered toast and hot scrambled eggs, he offered Nick a plate of actual breakfast. “I’ll rustle you up some oatmeal too. I’m just glad someone else in the house will actually eat it,” he grinned.
Nick generally wasn't a picky eater. Having to steal food as a kid had instilled a great appreciation of it for him, it was only the very limited options and lack of anything fresh in the snow globe that had worn on him.
Now with breakfast in front of him and more on the way, he realized that he'd probably be able to eat better in Vallo than any other time in his life. So that was a welcome change.
He waited until several bites were put away before he commented, "I didn't know you were dead before..." Maybe that was rude, but it was also slightly fascinating. "However this works, I'm glad you made it here somehow. You mean a lot to Sabrina. And this place feels like a home."
Maybe not like his home, yet. But it was well on its way.
“Was in the afterlife for a bit, yeah,” Dan nodded, turning on another burner to heat up some oatmeal on the stove. He usually liked his with berries, maybe some yogurt (the tanginess cut through the blandness of plain oatmeal), but other people (just in general - not in this house because ‘lol,’ as the kids said) liked a bit more sweetness in theirs so he’d just let Nick select his own additions. Though he gathered the berries and honey and the little canister of cinnamon, setting them down for options. “It’s a lot like - the land of the living, actually? At least my version was. Basically just what you make of it.” Much of any life was like that, he found. “I definitely prefer Vallo, however. Plenty of opportunity and getting married was the highlight.”
There were others he missed, of course, but he kept on keeping on, appreciating what he had and recognizing it could be gone at any point.
"You met Allison here, right?" Nick asked, trying to remember what Sabrina had told him. It was a wonder he could remember any of it at all, as much of a whirlwind as things seemed once they finally crossed over to the real Vallo. He remembered the cheeseburger, and the Sabrina shake. Those were important.
"Thanks for making breakfast," he added. "I should learn how to cook." Two months in the snow globe had revealed he didn't know much about cooking, and given the ingredients they'd had at hand during that time, he still didn't.
Even a small thing like suggesting he learn to cook made Nick realize he was already planning on figuring out his life here. Maybe Sabrina was right, that he could actually have a chance at a normal life.
Dan actually enjoyed cooking - it was soothing, for some reason, and now that he actually had the space for it, well. Why not? Living in an attic apartment, in Frazier, didn’t really give him much room to experiment with recipes - he was basically just holing up in a dusty room and hadn’t ever moved elsewhere; it had been cheap and he was right by Billy, which he needed at the time.
Then he was dead, so what did it matter anyway.
“Yeah, me and Allison met here - we arrived close to the same time, I think?” he mused back on it, finishing up with his coffee. He added some oatmeal to a Tupperware container, so he could take it to work with him and wolf it down before he officially started his shift. “One of our first dates was at the aquarium in the city.” Though neither of them had called it a date at that time - he was pretty sure Klaus called it a date before Dan or Allison, which was something he thought of fondly.
His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “You’re welcome for breakfast, anytime. I make dinner pretty often too - sometimes we all do our own things, but I generally like to cook. If you want to take a crack at it, feel free.” Checking the time on his phone, he realized he needed to get a move on so he grabbed his nurse bag and stuck his lunch into it as well, also packed neatly in a piece of Tupperware. “Allison will be down with Claire for breakfast soon - “ He had some food for them being kept warm in the oven, “...if she asks for you a tea party, you can say no,” Dan laughed a little. “But I’ve got to get going - you take care and try to let me know if those bad dreams get any worse?”
Nick nodded in agreement. It was one thing to know that Dan had been there for Sabrina, it was another thing when that offer of supported extended to him as well.
"Thank you again," he added, mulling everything over. At least until he was adding cinnamon to his oatmeal. Then his focus returned safely to food.