Angela gasped and sat up with a start, her heart thumping in her chest. "How could I have fallen asleep?!" she groaned. "Jack! Oh shit..."

Jack kept twitching and thrashing around, obviously having a bad dream. Angela hurriedly replaced the towel on his forehead. Angela bit her lip and watched him, worried. He kept squirming and muttering, but moreover, his breathing was particularly labored. Angela reached out and grabbed Jack's wrist in a futile attempt to calm him. Her touch seemed to upset him further and Jack began gasping and writhing, twisting the sheets about.

"Jack. Jack!" Angela shook him but he just turned his head. "Wake up!" Angela sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbed Jack's shirt and pulled him up to sitting. "Wake up," she repeated, lightly slapping his cheek as his eyes began to flutter open. Jack's eyes flew open and he looked about the room before starting to cough and wheeze like mad, his chest heaving.

"Shhh, shhh, calm down. It was just a dream."

"Ma. Mom. Where's Mom?" Jack looked up at Angela, a questioning look on his face.

Angela's eyes grew wide. "Jack, you were dreaming," she said gently.

"No..." Jack looked away, shaking his head. "No, no," he trailed off, running a hand over his face. He looked back at Angela, still not believing it.

"Jack, you need to calm down. Please," Angela said quietly.

"Why's it so hot in hea'?" Jack said, as if he had not heard a word Angela had said.

"You have a fever. Try not to breathe so heavily."

"I can't help it!" Jack gasped, growing upset.

"You have to try!" Angela cried.

Jack opened his mouth but he was wheezing too hard and couldn't get any words out.

"Shhh, shhh," Angela said, placing a hand on his arm. "Relax, you'll be fine." Jack nodded, his wheezing beginning to subside.

"Fine? I'll be fine?" Jack asked, looking into Angela's worried eyes. He shook his head and turned away, his face beginning to crumble.

Angela looked at Jack sadly, watching him fight back tears. She swallowed, feeling a heavy aching deep in her chest and she felt like crying herself. "I don't know," Angela whispered. "Will you?"

"God, I feel so awful," Jack sniffled, looking down at his lap. He then stared pensively at his hands for several moments, lost in thought, his face twisted into an expression of pain and disapproval. Angela frowned, watching him. Her tired mind began to drift, slipping into thoughts of faded memories and regrets.

"I hate 'im." Jack's angry voice suddenly shattered the strained silence of the room. "Did ya know dat? Huh? Did ya?" Jack looked at Angela through tear-filled eyes. "Couldn't be a good fatha', couldn't be a good husband. Worthless ol' drunk, couldn't do nothin' but get himself thrown in jail. I hate 'im. I hate 'im so much..." Jack's voice shook with pain and anger. Overcome by emotion, he shook his head as the fresh tears slowly rolled down his face.

Angela handed him a glass of water from the nightstand. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry," Angela said, squeezing Jack's arm sadly.

Jack drank some water and wiped his eyes, trying to compose himself. "Ya know," he started, shaking his head sadly, "I try ta ferget. I try so hard...but the dreams..." he trailed off, sighing. "The dreams, they won't let me." Jack stared into Angela's soft brown eyes, his own hazel ones bloodshot and puffy. "Promise," he suddenly whispered, grabbing Angela's hands.

"Promise what?" she asked, surprised.

"Promise me you'll neva' let me do dat. Don't eva' let me become me fatha'. Don't eva' let me become a sorry old drunk who leaves 'is own family," Jack said bitterly. "Please. Promise." Jack grasped Angela's hands in desperation, squeezing them painfully, as he began to sob.