"When's The Last Time You Slept?" With Witchcraft Scott Being Asked That By Joey? Or Cleo, Whatever Gets

"When's the last time you slept?" With witchcraft Scott being asked that by Joey? Or Cleo, whatever gets your brain juice flowing

"God, you look awful." Joey was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. Scott felt irritation curl in his gut at the casual way which the other witch just waltzed into his home like he owned the place. His fists clenched as he fought to keep from snapping at the intruder. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," he sneered. Truce or not, he and Joey certainly weren't on friendly terms, and he didn't appreciate his space being invaded with such little notice. He'd been in the middle of brewing potions, a very delicate process that required exact measurements.

He was already on his fifth try thanks to the way his hands shook and his vision seemed to blur and double. He didn't need additional distractions.

"Did you need something?"

"Come to think of it, do you even have a bed?" Joey bulldozed right over him, as if he hadn't heard Scott at all. "I've been through almost your entire house and I haven't found a single pillow."

Scott bristled. Did this man not have any respect for privacy?

"Why do you want to know? Trying to get a taglock?" Technically, the terms and conditions of their truce forbid Joey from practicing curses or voodoo, or any of the magic that Scott practiced. But he wouldn't put it past Joey to try and find a work around anyway.

"Oh yes, because that went so well for me the first time." The firefrost witch snorted, rolling his eyes. "As if. I know better than to try to mess with you by now."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." Scott rested his hands on the table behind him. "What do you want?"

Joey sighed, long and dramatic, as if it pained him to reveal his purpose here. Scott just scowled at him, refusing to say anything else until his rival spoke first.

"Fine, fine. Since you're just so insistent." Joey smiled amusedly and reached into his bag. Scott tensed, hand already straying towards his wand, but the other didn't move to attack him. Instead, his hand emerged holding a small poppet. "As per our agreement, I need someone cursed. I still have to get back at Pris for the whole demonic alter thing. I even saved you the trouble of having to make one of these creepy little dolls. You're welcome."

He tossed the poppet over to Scott, who held up a hand to catch it. Unfortunately, he was a bit too slow, and the doll bounced off of his hand and fell to the floor before he could curl his fingers around it. He stared at it in defeat for a few moments, as if he could will it back to him with the force of his disappointment, before giving up and bending over to pick it up.

When he looked back over at Joey, the firefrost witch's grin had dropped. His brow was slightly creased, lips twisted downward in what could almost be considered concern, if Scott were stupid.

"What?" He snapped. Joey hesitated, for once devoid of any mocking remark, his usual condescension completely gone.

"Are... you okay? Like I know I was joking about it but seriously... have you been getting any sleep at all?"

Scott grit his teeth and glared, but Joey's expression didn't change. He wasn't falling for it. It didn't matter that the last person to ask that question in a similar context was... him, he wouldn't give away any weakness.

"I don't need sleep," he informed Joey. "I did away with my bed after you and Pris attempted to get my taglock."

Joey's eyes widened, posture loosening. "...Oh." His gaze flicked from side to side, looking mildly uncomfortable. "I... sorry, I guess."

"Don't be. If anything, I should be thanking you. After all, you brought to my attention a glaring vulnerability that my enemies could easily use against me. Thanks to you, I was able to get rid of it" Scott turned back to his brewing stand. "Now, what kind of curse were you thinking of?"

Joey didn't say anything, which was again, strange. After a few seconds, Scott glanced behind him to make sure he was still there. The other witch's mouth was pinched, his eyes welling up with pity. It made Scott's skin crawl.

"...It can wait. You should get some rest."

Scott barked out a laugh.

"I thought you were done with underestimating me. Do you really think I would listen to you of all people?"

Joey's shoulders rose, expression turning sour. "Well forgive me for being concerned."

Scott snorted. "You. Concerned about me?" He shook his head. "Alright, very funny. Who are you really? Is that you, El? Shelby? Tiff?"

"I-I am not any one of those pathetic excuses for witches!" Joey cried out indignantly. "How dare you! Is it so impossible to believe that maybe it is really me?"

"Yes," Scott deadpanned.

Joey turned bright red. "W-well- you-" He screamed in frustration. "Just listen to me, would you? You're of no use to me if you can't even think straight."

"I never do anything straight."

"Me neither, but that is besides the point. Look, you can't curse someone if you can barely keep your eyes open. For all I know you could accidentally grab the wrong taglock and then boom, I'm being lit on fire every time I step out in the sun again." He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just... get some sleep. You look like you're about to fall over."

Scott bit back a traitorous yawn, as if summoned by the very thought. He couldn't go to sleep now- he just couldn't. There was too much that could happen to him while he was asleep. He wouldn't be able to defend himself if someone attacked him. Or tried to steal from him. Or cursed him. Joey was crazy if he thought that Scott would really trust his word.

"I'll call Cleo if you don't."

Scott froze.

"As if she'd pick up for you," he shot back. Joey smirked.

"She would if I was calling from your landline."

...Damnit.

"Alright, fine. Geez." Joey's face turned triumphant. Scott let out a low growl. "I'll go to bed. Now leave me alone."

Joey laughed. "I don't believe you. I'm staying right here until I see for myself you that you fell asleep."

"That is so creepy."

"I don't care. If you're going to insist on making yourself my only option for curses, then I'm going to make sure that I'm getting the best quality possible out of it. Now move, chop chop. Before you actually keel over." Joey gestured behind him to the empty hallway.

Scott grumbled and set down the poppet, but shuffled over to the door anyways. Joey led him down into the living room and over to one of the couches, before immediately sashaying off to the nearest closet and throwing it open.

The inside had extra blankets and linens that Scott never actually used, but Joey didn't even seem to see the dust that had piled up on top of them before he was pulling at one of the blankets and shaking it out.

Scott remained on edge as he watched Joey flit around the room, trying to look for something that could suffice as a pillow. He still didn't trust it. He couldn't believe a single thing that the firefrost witch said (no matter the small part of his brain that tried to convince him otherwise).

Joey definitely observed this, and rolled his eyes again. Scott remembered vaguely his mother telling him that if he did that too many times, they'd get stuck back there. He hoped that didn't happen. It would be a shame if Joey's eyes got stuck. They were quite pretty to look at, despite the aggravating personality of the person they were attached to.

The firefrost witch set a hand on his shoulder that burned, which Scott brushed off as his magic, and pushed him into lying down, propping his head with a cushion he'd pried off the other couch and throwing the blanket over him.

"I'll keep watch, or whatever. Nothing will happen while you're out."

"And how am I supposed to trust that?" Scott muttered, although his exhaustion was already sinking into his bones.

"Relax. Killing you in your sleep is hardly beneficial to me right now." Joey's grin was still the same arrogant, self-satisfied thing it always was. But the edges seemed... softer. Or maybe Scott really was just sleep deprived.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you care so much?" Scott turned onto his side. He saw Joey turn his head quickly so that his face was hidden, but he could have sworn he saw a flash of red across his cheeks.

"I don't," Joey said, voice sounding slightly strained. "It's like I said. I want only the best of the best. I can't have the quality of your curses be affected by your terrible self care habits, now can I?"

Scott hummed. He was sure there was a flaw in that logic somewhere, but he was too tired to figure it out. His eyes slipped closed, and he finally let himself fall into the depths of unconsciousness.