It had been 4 nights since Brian had slept. It had been a long journey for Khaat away from the potion that she had used to numb away all the horrors that still dwelt in her mind. It wasn't that Brian didn't understand her need to numb herself. He did. He got that part. He did not understand the part about her distance from him in the process or the secrecy.
And even when the detox set in, she hadn't made a sound. Not a a syllable, not a groan. Nothing. From what he knew he could tell she knew what she had done and was either facing the consequences as stoically as she knew how, or she had shut down and didn't feel anything. She hadn't asked for a thing. Hadn't accepted anything. Had stayed entirely silent, and the deeper the detox had gotten, the more distant she had become. When the fever raged its worst, he wasn't sure she was connecting with him at all. She didn't seem phased by the stomach problems or the congestion or the sneezing, or the rest of it. For Brian, her behavior had been keen insight on just how she had managed to survive Barker. He had witnessed something he did not think he would ever see--and now he wasn't sure he would have ever wanted to see it, given the choice. But he understood her and the very secret of her strength in a whole new way. The odd thing about it was that the very secret of her vulnerability lay right up against that.
When she slept, he often had had to check her breathing and her pulse to be sure she was still alive. And while it all played out, he didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't leave her--except if Robert shoved him out to shower. Robert had moved in temporarily to help. He forced Brian every so often to shower. Brian hadn't taken the time to shave. He hadn't been able to leave her.
And he had just checked on her again. There was still a pulse, but he couldn't see if she was breathing or not unless he laid his hand on her chest. He had gotten a cup of coffee and had gone back to the sitting area in the bedroom. His eyes burned from exhaustion. He sat down on the sofa, sipped the extra strong coffee and looked out over the estate, watching the sun start to creep above the eastward horizon. Another day was dawning. His eyes fluttered shut without his knowledge.
And then a hand very gently touched his forehead while another took the cup from his hand. He woke to see Robert there. Robert sat beside him on the sofa. "Brian," Robert said, clearly a man with something on his mind. "She's asleep. You can't go forever without sleep."
"I can't leave her. She needs to know I"m still here," Brian said.
"She does. She will. It may take her awhile to make peace with herself, and she's going to want you to be there. I want you to be ready and up for it."
"I am."
"No. You're not." He gently brushed Brian's hair, a gesture he hadn't done since Brian had been a small boy. "Son," his voice was gentle. "I'm right here. Let go. Let go of her and give her to me. I won't let anything happen to her if you sleep. I swear. She's mine too." Brian was silent for a long moment, overwhelmed. Robert folded him into him in a warm, comforting embrace. Brian could again feel Robert's immense strength and for right now it felt so different from his own. "Go to bed, Brian. Get some sleep. Then do us all a favor, would you?"
"What's that?" Brian frowned.
"Shave," Robert smiled. That made Brian smile.
"You won't leave her?"
"You have my word," Robert said seriously.
"Alright," Brian said, getting up. He got a change of clothes and went to a guest room and allowed himself to go to bed, and finally, to sleep.
by 
