Jackson

“Are you… alright?” Jackson couldn’t tell who was talking to him at the moment, but it must be one of his friends. Most at this gathering wouldn’t talk to him otherwise.

“Yeah?”

“You, um, you seem a little…”

“Yeah, no, the punch was enchanted with something,” Jackson waved his cup in front, hoping he wasn’t actually hitting the one talking to him with his motions. “Dunno what it is. ‘S not alcohol, though, because it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Oh, oh Shade,” oh, that was a new voice. Deeper, too. It was familiar, but in his state, he couldn’t quite place it. Which was weird, because his memories were usually better than this. Maybe there was something more dangerous in the punch too.

“Come on,” hands were hauling him from his shoulders, and he went along with it willingly, instinct telling him that it was safe. Murmurs and mutters continued around him, but Jackson only leaned into the hold keeping him safe, and tried to gather his senses back to himself.