CHAPTER THREE

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Sydney awoke later that evening with the feeling that someone was watching her, and when she rolled over she found Nigel sitting in a chair beside her bed, watching her sleep. She smiled and rose up on her elbow. “Hi.”

Nigel lowered his eyes shyly and offered her a small smile. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Sydney would let him wake her all he wanted, she didn’t care if she never slept again as long as she could stare into those wonderfully warm eyes and hear his beautiful, accented voice.

 She had been unaware that Nigel had not spoken for the entire time he had been in London , which explained Mrs. Brooke’s shock and the broken dishes that resulted. She’d been so pleased that she had been the one to bring it about; she hadn’t stopped smiling all day.

Nigel had changed, apart from that one embrace, he still shied away from anyone’s touch, but Sydney understood that it was not just her; it was part of his conditioning. Touch resulted in pain and it would take him awhile to get over the instinct to protect himself.

After a long talk with Preston and Dr. Rineheart, she’d learned a lot more about the problems that Nigel faced and how well his recovery was going, even if it didn’t seem like it. Nigel didn’t like to go outside, and he had also developed a fear of tight spaces, so it was a conundrum. Sydney could well understand his fears.

 Certain sounds made him nervous and his eyes never really settled on one place for very long. Sometimes, he would be staring off into space and Mrs. Brooke advised that he was back in that awful place again and she’d try to talk him back. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but Preston reported that the episodes were getting less frequent.

“What are you doing up?” she asked.

“I…I don’t sleep, much,” Nigel advised, reluctantly. His voice was husky, like it was when he was angry or horribly disappointed. He supposed that was from lack of use.  “And…I…I wanted to see…make sure you were…here.”

Sydney sat up and reached for his hand, not the least offended when he pulled away and sat further back in the chair. “Of course I’m here.”

“It seems like a bad dream, sometimes,” he said, lowering his eyes to the floor. “Sometimes… sometimes I can’t tell what’s real, that…place with those men, or…or here in London .” He shrugged. “I’m afraid to put faith in either, really.” If I…believe one, it might…it might not be the right one and I’ll be back there in that pit.”

Sydney’s heart went out to him. “I’m real, Nigel,” she assured and offered her arm. “Wanna pinch me and see?”

He smirked and for a moment, looked like he might accept her offer, but instead of pinching her he caressed her forearm from her elbow to her wrist, his long, fingers tentatively caressing the softness of her skin, testing the reality of flesh and bone beneath his hand, warming at the pulse in her wrist; his fingers trembling slightly.

Sydney let him explore as he needed to and carefully moved closer; he seemed more comfortable when he initiated the touch, than when someone else did and she’d let him touch her anywhere if it gave him the confidence that she was real. “See? One hundred percent real.” She immediately felt she said the wrong thing, because he pulled away and lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet and you can just touch me all you want.”

He bit his lip and shook his head, his hair falling into his face, he had not bothered to have it cut in months and it was at his shoulders now, his bangs well past his eyes when he didn’t push them back.

“Nigel, please don’t shut me out. Talk to me.”

He shook his head again and gripped his hair with his hands, as if ready to snatch it out of his skull. He wanted to explain but could not find the words. How could he tell her what they had done to him? How they had tricked him, violated him with her memory? How could he put a voice to the horrors that still haunted him?

“I waited for you,” he whispered. “I waited, Sydney . I knew you’d come, I was so confident…” He slapped both hands against his head, before cradling it between them. “I was so…stupid.”

Sydney moved closer, but didn’t try to touch him. “No, Nigel. I failed you, I should have…”

Nigel was shaking his head and moaning. “No, no, no! I gave you to them! I let them use you against me, Sydney. I…” He raised his head finally and stared past her to the window as tears slid down his pale cheeks, unchecked. “I was hurting and afraid and…and yet I, I got...cocky and I told them that you’d come for me, I let them know what I was holding onto, the very last thread I was clinging to and…and then…then it got so much worse.”

Sydney’s heart was breaking at his sorrow and she took a chance, she reached over to place her hand on his knee. Nigel flinched away, startled, and then just as quickly reached to catch her hand as she pulled it back.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know why I do that,” he whispered. “It’s not you, you’re lovely, really.”

Sydney was mildly amused that regardless of his inner hell he was still able to be a gentleman and try to appease her, as if she were a girl with a crush instead of a friend that had failed him.

 He focused tormented eyes upon her.  “I…I’ve always liked it when you…touched me, Sydney.”

  Sydney nodded and tried to ignore how loaded a statement that was; it gave her a secret thrill as well to know that Nigel felt that way. “I know, Nigel. It’s okay, I’m not offended, nor is anyone else here. We all understand.”

“Do you?” he demanded, releasing her hand, his expression earnest. “Do you really, because even I don’t understand, Sydney . I…I just react.”

“Look, it’s your body, you should always be the one to decide who touches you and, for awhile, they took that from you, but not anymore, Nigel. Now, you say who can and can’t touch you. It’s your choice, not theirs.”

Nigel stared down at the floor for a few minutes, digesting her words. Finally, he raised his gaze to hers. “I don’t…I miss, being touched, Sydney . I…I do, but I can’t stop…” He shook his head, frustrated. “Mrs. Brooke, Preston …you, I…I can see the hurt in your eyes when I react badly and I don’t mean to do it. I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just want to be…right again. I….I want to be able to get a pat on the back or…or a hug without bloody freaking out.”

“You will be right again, Nigel,” Sydney assured. “You just need to give yourself time.”

Nigel nodded and stared at the floor again.

Sensing his withdrawal, Sydney tried to keep the conversation going. “Nigel?”

He looked up at her.

“I…I wrote to you…several times. Did you….were you ever going to write me back?”

Nigel lowered his head, ashamed. Sydney ’s letters were still in his desk drawer, they had never been opened. “I…I received them…I just…I was waiting to…until I could control….I…I haven’t read them yet, Sydney .”

“None of them?”

Nigel shook his head. “I’m sorry. It was inconceivably rude, I just…”

Sydney almost laughed. “Nigel, I’m not mad, I’m just…surprised.” She had poured her heart out in those letters and he had not read one single piece of paper. “Well…I…I’m here now, so…you can just throw them away if you like.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I…well…if they bother you…”

He shook his head again. “I’ll read them, eventually, Sydney. Just…not right now.”

Sydney bit her lip as she remembered what she had written in some of them. “I just think it would be a waste of time, that’s all….”

Nigel rose, he didn’t want to talk about some silly letters. “I…should let you get some sleep.”

“You can…stay if you want, Nigel.” She patted the bed. “I’ll even let you have the left if you like?”

Nigel paused at the door; his expression telling her he appreciated the offer. “I’ll just keep you awake. Good night, Sydney .”

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Sydney entered her room with a hesitant Nigel in tow, he was allowing her to hold his hand on occasion and she decided to use that trust to her advantage. She’d taken a leave of absence from the university, a first for her, and remained in London to help with Nigel’s recovery.

Now that he was speaking again things seemed a little more normal around the house, even though he didn’t talk often and it was mostly just to Sydney that he spoke to. She had even managed to get him outside the house for a walk around the grounds. He had reacted badly their first time, and had actually shoved her away to get back inside; but she took it in stride. Now, he’d stroll along the grounds with her, as long as they stayed close to the house and she remained beside him, he seemed to adjust.

Now, several days later, she was determined to help him get over his fear of being touched. She closed the door to her room and pulled off the robe she had been wearing, revealing a gray tank top and short set. She settled on the bed and patted the space beside her. “Let’s try an experiment, come here.”

 Nigel hesitated, still lingering by the door. “Um…why?”

Sydney patted the bed again. “You trust me, right?”

“Y…yes.”

“Nothing happens that you don’t want to happen, now come on. I won’t bite.”

Nigel almost smiled, and then slowly moved and settled beside her on the bed, close, but not touching.

“Take your shoes off. Lie down, get comfortable.”

He toed off his shoes and tried to do as she asked, but ended up sitting up, nervously. “I can’t…whatever it is I can’t.”

Sydney’s voice was soothing, and she made no move to touch him, just remained on her knees beside him. “Nigel, this is all about you, what you want. You’re in control. You want to get used to being touched, right?”

“Um….yes.”

“If this doesn’t work we’ll stop, all you have to do is say so, okay?”

He reluctantly lay back down, but his body was vibrating with anxiety.

Sydney did not find his nervousness amusing, as she once did. She understood that he was experiencing very real fear over this. She clapped her hands together and started rubbing them quickly, generating a natural heat between her palms. “Okay there, Nigel?”

He had jumped at the sound of the clap, but nodded, until she reached toward him, and then he panicked. He knew it was only Sydney but he couldn’t get past the fear. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to touch you, I promise,” she assured as she held her hands about a foot from his body and then slowly moved them from his head down to feet. “This is supposed to direct all that old, bad energy around your body downward and away, to make way for good, newer energy. It helps balance your chi, so to speak.”

“H…How does it do that?” Nigel asked, unable to take his eyes off her hands.

“It’s a spiritual way to heal. Many Aboriginal and Asian cultures have used it.”

He tensed when Sydney ’s hands dropped a fraction closer on the next pass. “Don’t!” He closed his eyes and cursed himself. He was such a coward.

Sydney didn’t pay any attention, she was concentrating on what she was doing and watching him. “Watch me, Nigel, not my hands.”

He tried, but it was difficult. Her hands were actually quite lovely, he’d always thought so, considering the strength behind them. You’d expect someone in Sydney ’s line of work to have masculine, callused hands, but she didn’t. They were soft, feminine, manicured, perfect really. And they were getting closer.

“Nigel.”

He forced himself to look at her again, tried to return the smile she offered him; his breathing sped up, a sign of his fear.

“Tell me what your favorite relic hunt was.”

Nigel was ashamed when he flinched as her hands dropped another fraction closer to him. “P…please…” This was torture of a different making. He wanted her to touch him, he’d meant what he’d said before that he used to like it when she did, but he just could not trust her not to hurt him. He had always trusted her with everything, why couldn’t he get past this?

“How about the Executioner’s mask?” she smiled at him, despite the dots of sweat that marred her perfect brow. Never once did her hands stop their motions. He was surrounded by negativity, layers and layers of bad energy and she really had to concentrate to strip it away. “With all those pretty models?”

“No…That…that was okay, I…I guess, but certainly not my favourite.”

“Which one then.” She resisted the urge to catch his chin and forced him to look at her.

Nigel was starting to feel lighter, softer. His body felt like it was no longer attached and it alarmed him. “You’re not like…going to start spewing um…green stuff and have your head spinning around, are you?”

“I don’t know. Are my eyes changing color?”

His gaze flew to hers, startled at the idea that they might be different, but he realized almost immediately that she was having him on and trying to get his eyes away from what she was doing. It had worked too. “Still that lovely chocolate colour,” he murmured

Nigel paused, trying to think. “Finding the Sword of Ateas, probably.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow, surprised.  She thought he would say proving the legend of Sir Gabriel, since it had been so close to his heart. She couldn’t imagine how that horrid trip for Ateas’s sword would be his favourite, when they had been ambushed after finding the sword and she had been wounded.

A freak named Tsarlov, with a penchant for hunting humans, had fixed her up and told her that Nigel and all the others had died in the ambush, She had later learned her assistant was alive and living below the compound, waiting to be the next victim in the man’s sick game of hunt.

“Why…How could that be your favourite, Nigel?”

Nigel held her gaze, seriously. “Because, you were still alive, Sydney .”

Sydney smiled, remembering how they had clung to each other upon learning that Tsarlov had lied to both of them. “And your least favourite one?”

Nigel’s expression never changed and Sydney could tell that he spoke from the heart. “The same, for when I thought you were dead.”

Sydney almost broke her promise and hugged him.” Likewise,” she said, softly and continued her task, her hands now only a few centimetres from Nigel’s body.

Nigel struggled to keep his eyes on her and not her hands, despite the fact that he could still tell how close they were and his body was drawn tighter than a bow string.

“What do you like most about being my assistant?” Sydney wanted to keep him talking and his mind off of her hands.

“You.” Nigel responded without thinking, and then realized how intimate that sounded. He flushed and started to stammer. “I…I mean…I…working with…with you. You’re…you’re amazing and…and the most…well your knowledge of history rivals my own and it’s nice that we…um …can…can talk, together, in…in common. I mean.”

Sydney was so pleased she could hardly stand it. To see him flustered again brought her no end of joy, almost like his old self, but she decided he was nervous enough. “I know what you mean. I feel like we can talk about anything, I never had that with my other assistants.” Nor with her other friends. “We have so much in common, Nigel, it’s like we can read each other’s minds, and that’s very important in our line of work.”

He relaxed and stopped stammering, relieved.

“Nigel?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can I touch you?”

He tensed and realized how close her hands were to his head. He wet his lips. This was stupid, it was just Sydney . “Um…O…okay.”

Sydney very carefully caressed his forehead with the tips of her fingers, a soft, gentle touch with no pressure. “Feel okay?”

He swallowed and nodded. It did feel nice actually; her touch was almost hypnotic, maternal in a way. His mother used to caress his forehead when he was ill as a child.

“Okay?”

Nigel closed his eyes and nodded.

Sydney’s fingers moved a little further, back over his hair, smoothing it away from his forehead. It was getting so long, she rather liked it on him. She took her hand away and he opened his eyes, as she knew that he would. “Now, sit up, like me.”

Nigel did so, surprised to find that his body felt like jelly, and she hadn’t even touched him; just waved her hands over him. “God…I feel like melted pudding.”

Sydney smiled, encouragingly. “Good, that means it worked. Okay, you go first.”

“First?”

“You touch me, and then I’ll touch you and we’ll go from there.”

He appreciated what she was trying to do for him, but it all seemed so bizarre. “Syd, this is stupid.”

“Try it, Nigel.”

Nigel swallowed, nervous again. “Touch you…anywhere?”

“Anywhere you want.”

That wasn’t going to settle his nerves at all, he thought frowning. Touch Sydney , just touch her? He’d touched her before, hell they’d hugged on occasion.  He could do this. He wanted to do this, really. He took a deep breath, reached out and hesitatingly touched her arm, ran his fingers along the length of it, then pulled away and looked at her.

Sydney continued to smile at him as she tentatively did the same to him. “Keep looking into my eyes, Nigel.”

Nigel did and, although he flinched when she touched his arm, he did not pull away. She mimicked his movements, tracing her fingers up and down his arm, before pulling back. He glanced down at where she had touched him, and then looked back at her again. That wasn’t so bad.

“You’re turn.”

Nigel wet his lips again, tilted his head and reached up to touch her shoulder, changing his mind at the last second and pulled his hand away to scratch the back of his neck. If he touched her there, then she’d touch his shoulder and that was…well too close to his face just yet. He reached a trembling hand toward her thigh, thought it inappropriate and pulled away again.

“It’s okay, anywhere you want, it doesn’t mean anything, Nigel, we’re just touching, okay?”

His eyes darted away for a few minutes. “I can’t do this, Syd.”

“If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

He looked at her again, expecting to see disappointment, but she was still smiling. She was doing this for him, and she wouldn’t pressure him to go further than he was able. “Um…how…how about you go first this time?” He didn’t know where he should touch her, so he’d let her decide the next place.

“You’re sure?”

He nodded.

She held his gaze and lifted her hand to his hair, hesitating just above him to see if it was okay, then smoothed his hair back from his face, before playfully trailing her finger across his ear.

Nigel shivered a little and rubbed at his ear where she had tickled him, so far not feeling too stifled by their proximity. He reciprocated her movements, his fingers trailing down the length of her hair, revelling in its softness. He’d always liked her hair.

Sydney scrapped her knuckles across his hands and Nigel did the same to her. It felt so strange, so…juvenile and yet he was barely managing such simple actions. He didn’t feel like a child, he felt like a man but he was afraid of her, afraid of himself. He felt like an idiot and yet, relieved to try something, anything that might help improve his trust.

Sydney ran her hand lightly down the front of his sweater and he flushed and shook his head, he just couldn’t touch her there, with her in just that short top. “It’s okay,” she assured and gently took hold of his fingers, feeling them tremble against hers. “It’s just our bodies, Nigel.”

He was immediately reminded of their time at the nudist spa, his panic at the idea of seeing her naked, and her seeing him naked. Her body and his body and other people’s bodies. His fingers curled inward as they neared her chest. He just couldn’t!

Sydney, sensing his predicament, gently guided his hand to her flat stomach, pulled up the material of her shirt enough that he could touch flesh to flesh. “It’s okay,” she whispered and ignored the slight twitch of excitement when his fingers met her skin. “Touch me, Nigel. I trust you, completely.”

Nigel’s gaze was frozen to his hand against her bare mid-drift and he allowed his fingers to move ever so slightly, caressing the soft, exposed skin. God, her skin was so incredibly warm and soft. It was like silk. He closed his eyes and shifted closer, allowed both hands to span her hips as he marvelled at the body that held so much strength. He’d never noticed that she had such a small waist before.

  Sydney wanted to jump up and do cartwheels around the room at Nigel’s breakthrough, and couldn’t seem to resist the intimacy of the situation. She caressed his cheek, startled when he slapped her and backed up against the headboard.

“I’m sorry!” Nigel cried, horrified that he had actually hit her. There was a red mark on he cheek from his hand. “God, I’m so…so sorry!”

Sydney ignored the sting of his slap, she’d taken much harder hits and it was her own fault for not paying attention. She crawled toward him and watched him pull his knees up into his chest and set his head upon them. “Is that where they hit you, Nigel?” she asked, gently. “In the face?”

“I’m so sorry!” He couldn’t get over the fact that he had slapped her. How could he do that? “I would never hurt you…never!”

“It doesn’t matter,” she assured and moved a little closer, not allowing herself to touch him again. She remembered the bruises on his face when they had first found him and had no doubt he had taken a few shots there. “They hit you in the face and you couldn’t protect yourself from them.”

“Everywhere, Sydney,” he moaned, miserably as he thought about the beatings, which was far worse than anything else they did. “All…all over.”

Sydney’s shoulders slumped, she hadn’t meant to upset him again, and her plan had backfired. “I’m sorry, Nigel.”

“No, Sydney , don’t…I…I have to get over this.” He raised frightened eyes to her. “I don’t know what it is about my face, my…head that…it scares me. Or…my wrists, where they…bound me, I suppose. I can’t stand…when they dragged me from…” He shook his head and hid his face again.

His torment was tearing her apart and she was determined to help him. “Touch me again, Nigel?” she suggested, softly. “Touch me the way they touched you, show me.”

“I can’t!”

“You can! You’ll never get past it if you don’t. Nigel, you have to fight this.” Hoping she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life, she caught his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “Show me, Nigel. Fight!”

Nigel’s response was automatic, he caught her wrists in a vice grip and pulled her hands away from him. “Don’t! Syd, please, I don’t want to hurt you again!”

“Is this what they did, Nigel? Is this how they held you?”

“Don’t do this!” he pleaded, shoving her backwards onto the mattress. “You don’t want to know, you don’t…”

Sydney witnessed the anger in his eyes, finally something other than fear and confusion. She rose and grabbed him again. “I’m not giving up on you, Nigel. Are you a man or a mouse?”

Nigel’s grip on her wrists this time felt tight enough to shatter bone. “ Sydney , please! Don’t touch me! I can’t…”

Sydney refused to give an inch and struggled to get at his face again. The little bugger was stronger than she had ever considered.

 Nigel, after some effort shoved her away a second time and stretched an arm and leg out to keep her back. “You promised, Sydney ! Nothing I don’t want! You promised! I don’t want this! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Nigel, you can’t expect everyone to just give you what you want, you have to take it. Take back that control they took from you. Fight!”

Panic caused Nigel to catch her in mid lunge and landed them both on the bed, with him on top of her. “Stop it!” he screamed, pinning her against the mattress with a strength he no longer thought he had. “I won’t! I don’t want it and you can’t make…” He paused as he stared down at Sydney ’s smiling face, her eyes flashing with triumph and chest heaving from their struggle. He realized that he had stopped her, he’d fought back and…won?

His eyes closed and his head lowered and touched hers for a fraction of a second, a tribute of his relief and gratitude.

Sydney wanted to pull him closer and kiss away his pain, but he was still holding her down and she didn’t want to fight him anymore. She waited as he slowly released her, felt a moment of regret as the weight of his body was removed as he fell sideways onto his back.

 Nigel ran a hand over his face. “Dear, God.”

Sydney pushed the hair out of her eyes and rose up on her elbow to look down at him, rubbing at her sore wrists. “I can’t make you, Nigel, you’re right. No one can.”

He stared up at her, dazed. He’d fought back. He didn’t let her hurt him, well, Sydney never would hurt him, and he knew that. But she represented the people that had hurt him and he had fought back. He reached up, cupped the back of her head as if wanting to pull her down to him, needing to be close to her, yet unable to let himself do so just yet. Instead, his fingers caressed the nape of her neck as he fought to find the words to express what he was feeling.

Sydney allowed herself to follow through on her earlier urge, if only for a moment, leaned down and briefly touched her lips to his. “Well done, you.” She carefully stretched out next to him and lay with her head on his chest. Nigel hesitated only a moment before wrapping an arm around her and Sydney almost felt like crying.  “Tell me, Nigel,” she encouraged, very much afraid he would. She didn’t know if she could handle the truth of his torture, but she had to ask. “Maybe it will help.”

“It won’t,” he assured, quietly as he tentatively played with her hair. “God, it won’t help a thing. I don’t want to talk about it I want to…forget about it.”

“But you can’t.”

“No.”

“So, what do we do then?”

Nigel blinked at the tears that stung his eyes when she used the word we. He hugged her with one arm, fought down the surge of panic and fear that rose inside of him and gripped his own hair, frustrated. “I don’t know.”

Sydney slid her hand across his chest, relieved when he mad no move to stop her, then proceeded to caress him with soothing circular motions. “I’ll be right here until we figure it out, then.”

“I’ve missed you so much, Sydney .”

“I’ve missed you too, Nigel.”

Nigel stared up at the ceiling again, surprised to find his eyelids were getting heavy. He didn’t sleep very often anymore, certainly not through the night. Knowing what horrors awaited him when he closed his eyes he forced them open and tried to think of something else. “Claudia says she has a gypsy friend that is good at removing curses.”

Sydney grinned. “Think it would help?”
            “Couldn’t hurt.”

She nodded, although she knew that Nigel would never believe anything so foolhardy; she was glad that Claudia had at least attempted to help him; in her own bizarre way.

“Syd?”

Sydney lifted her head to look at him; it was so good hearing him call her that again. “Yeah?”

“I’m pretty messed up, aren’t I?”

“Well, you didn’t have it all together before, Nigel.”

Nigel actually chuckled, in surprise. “Thanks a lot!”

She grinned, delighted her teasing had worked. “But I guess you were learning.” She resumed her position and her gentle caresses. “And you will again, we both will.” She paused. “Have I mentioned this sweater really looks good on you?”

“You’re such a tease,” he murmured and tried to ignore the jolt of pleasure that surged through him. Her hand moving on his chest seemed to hold a hypnotic rhythm that spoke directly to his heart, so relaxing he was afraid he really would fall asleep.

 “Remember your first relic hunt?”

He nodded. “I thought I’d just become the assistant to a prize lunatic who was bent on getting me killed!”

“But I didn’t get you killed, did I? You made it through just fine, even if you were afraid and uncertain. You got hurt a few times, but it didn’t stop you.”

Nigel shrugged, modestly, that seemed so long ago. “Yeah, I guess.”

She nudged him. “Less than six months later and you were the one taking the risks, remember? You did your share of beating up the bad guys and encouraging me to go after a relic.”

“I…I guess I adapted all right.”

“You’re the best partner I’ve ever had,” she insisted, lifting her head up again to look down at him. “You’ll find your niche again, you’ll learn and adapt and soon you’ll be doing things you never thought you could. You just have to give it time and believe that it will happen.”

Nigel struggled to hold her gaze, he was so incredibly tired. “You taught me to be brave then, Syd. You…showed me what life could be like outside my shell.”

She nodded and could see him giving in to an unwilling slumber. Good, the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep had started to bother her. “You showed me what a great life it can be, with the right person, Nigel.”

“Would…will you…”

“Anything, Nigel.”

“Just…What you did before? With…my hair…”

Sydney gently pushed the hair out of his face, and continued her caresses across and around his forehead, hoping it will lull him to sleep. “Rest, Nigel.”

“I…should go to…my own room.”

“You should stay right here.”

“It’s not even…lunch.” He could feel himself drifting away from her, the room, everything and finally allowed his eyes to close, despite his protests against it. He couldn’t move if he wanted to at the moment.

“Go to sleep, baby.”

Nigel relaxed further into the welcoming arms of his own exhaustion, not even his fears of what lay waiting for him in the land of sleep was strong enough to keep him awake.

 “Will you teach me again?” he whispered.

“Teach you what?”

“To …be brave.”

Sydney’s eyes glittered with joyful tears. “Oh Nigel, you’ve already surpassed all of us on that field.” He had no idea of the courage that he had already been shown a thousand times.

“Teach me…to adapt, then?”

 She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Just follow my lead, my friend.”

 “Anywhere,” he murmured as he finally dropped off to sleep.

Sydney continued to caress him for a few more minutes, before laying her had back on his chest and dozing off herself.

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