Brennan wakes violently. His heart is beating so hard and his skin is crawling with barely contained fear and pain. His eyes remain tightly shut and he doesn't think he can ever open them again.

His stomach rolls and he feels the urgent need to vomit.

"Brennan?" Shalimar's voice is so soft and welcoming that he just has to see her because maybe, just maybe, she can make this thing slightly better.

He doesn't answer her, only stares fixedly on her shoulder and the way her curly golden hair falls just past it. He's staring so hard that he doesn't realize when Shalimar moves to his side. Her hand touches his cheek and he breathes out deeply.

In the throes of his nightmares, far too real to be just dreams, he fought hard to scream, to release the pain somehow but every time, she only laughed and pushed harder past the barriers in his mind. Burning holes, and ripping down walls and memories and feelings in her wake.

He imagines if Shalimar is sitting here beside him, staring so carefully at his face, that he must have succeeded.

He can see her hideous face laughing in front of his, the vicious grip of her cold hand on his temple. The sickening sound of her country drawl and the empty pale blue of her merciless eyes. These intricacies, these details keep him awake at four in the morning, keep him cowering in the corner of his dark room because he can all but feel it again. Every aching minute of it and a shudder runs down his spine.

"What did she do to you?" Shalimar's fingers are so small and gentle and the complete opposite of everything he fears that he never wants her to leave.

But instead of asking her to stay, he says "I'm fine," in his most convincing voice and that's not saying much. She looks at him dubiously, at the sweat glowing on his pale skin, at the shivers travelling through his body, listens to his labored breathing and his racing heart beat and she wants to tell him that he's a horrible liar but she doesn't. This is what he does, acts strong, and pretends that none of this has bothered him. He tries to convince himself that even after a month, Adam and Emma's deaths are just like any other every day occurrence, and the inability to sleep is just him working too hard. But Shalimar knows differently. And he does too.

"I'm fine." It's firmer, and an answer to her stare and a warning. Shalimar knows her boundaries, she just wishes they weren't there. It's always the hardest to know that all would turn out better if she just waits. But Brennan's been in so much pain since that day and he doesn't or can't talk about it and either way, it's killing him. Like clockwork, he wakes screaming and more often than not Shalimar is sitting outside of his door waiting for it to come. Waiting for the frantic tussling of the sheets and the panic-stricken cry when he finally wakes from what ever horrors haunt him behind closed eyes.

His hand comes up to take hers and he squeezes it with the little strength he can manage. He doesn't meet her eyes and instead looks down at her fragile hands that mean so much to him.

"I think, I'm gonna go back to bed." He says awkwardly. Shalimar only nods. If she opens her mouth she knows the only thing that will escape is a choked sob. She can't stand to see him this way but there have been too many arguments to try to do this again. So she nods again and kisses him on the forehead.

His bedside lamp is clicked on as she leaves and slides the door closed. Brennan watches her form retreat and silently wishes he had the strength to ask her to stay.

It's two hours later and Brennan can't go back to sleep. His eyes are burning from fighting back a night's worth of tears, and from almost two days straight and only six hours of sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, she's there, the damn psychic who ruined his life, and Mason Eckhart proceeding over it. The pain, that he remembers and it's what makes him shy away from anyone touching him. For days afterwards, his skin was so sensitive that even clothes brought him close to pain. But while that blond freak of nature messed with his body, that soul-less woman stole from him any ounce of sanity he might have tried to hold on too. Every time he forgot something, Brennan couldn't help but wonder was it something she took from him, or something he simply couldn't remember. And every time he closed his eyes Brennan remembered the pain it took to fight her and the things she did to open him to her.

That day, those people, those feelings keep him up every night. And take with them anything he might try to rebuild.

He leans back and closes his eyes again and this time he can feel her cold hand touching his skin and his mind and Brennan's stomach barely keeps itself in check.

He gently climbs out of bed and pulls on a pair of pajama pants. His torso is bare and he can feel the hair on the back of his neck rise at the thought of anything but walking down the hall.

When he gets there, he doesn't knock, just slides the door open and steps in. He doesn't know what he would have done if there weren't a small night light in the corner of the room. He sees, as he closes the door behind him, that the room would have been plunged into total darkness.

He stands there awkwardly because he didn't think past this part. All he could think about was getting to Shalimar and the softness that seemed to inherit every inch of her body.

"Hey."

"Hey." If Brennan is startled, he covers it well as Shalimar looks up at him. She doesn't ask any questions, just lifts the sheet in front of her and invites him in.

There's a brief moment of panic in Brennan's eyes like maybe this wasn't the best idea he's ever had, and Shalimar has been waiting forever for him to come to her and she can't let him just run away.

"Don't worry, I've got clothes on." Brennan smiles and blushes. The joke has the effect she was hoping and Shalimar is relieved as he takes a step towards the bed. And then another. And another until he's standing next to it and Brennan is staring down at the most beautiful smile he's ever seen and now, he can't remember what he's ever been afraid of. He lies down at a distance and tucks his hand under a pillow because he doesn't know what else to do with it. He's on his side with his back to Shalimar and he's breathing as slowly as possible.

He's being foolish, thinking that this would make any difference. Their beds are made of the same material and the rooms are the same size. His is a lot more masculine but it's the same. The fear rushes back to him and Brennan is as scared as ever to close his eyes.

Shalimar's arm finds it's way around his waist and her cheek rests against his shoulder. Her hand finds his and she squeezes it.

Brennan breathes out and then opens his mouth. And then closes it.

He's come this far, there's no reason not to go any farther. This, all of it, can only end two ways and either way, he's in a better place then he was five minutes ago.

But he doesn't know what to say so he opts for the truth. "I lied."

Shalimar squeezes a little harder. "I know." They're quiet again as Brennan stares blankly at the wall, trying to will it all away.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He wants so desperately to say no and he knows that Shalimar will respect that. But maybe it's the little things that he's noticing now, like that fact that she waited up for him, or the fact that even though she can only sleep in the darkest of areas, the night light is on, just for him, just in case he came to her, or maybe it's the fact that there's an extra pillow on the bed and that Shal is lying to one side instead of the middle like she usually does. Whatever it is, the last thing Brennan wants to say is no.

"Eckhart said that when she was done, there'd be nothing left of me. And the first thing I thought about was you guys. You, Emma, Jesse, even Adam. And in a second I made up my mind that if there was anything left for me to remember, it would be my family. And I fought to keep those memories from her. More than I fought to keep the passcodes and the location of sanctuary. It was stupid of me, I put all of you in danger but Shal, if you could see..." His voice trails off as he remembers the things she said to him. The things she promised to do to his friends. "And the things she could make you believe and feel. Between her and that other guy, I didn't think I'd make it. My skin was on fire and I felt like she was ripping me apart from the inside. I saw things that make my stomach turn just mentioning them, and I felt so much pain I didn't think it was possible. Like every bone in my body was being broken and set and mended and broken again. And when I got up from that chair the only thing I could feel was anger. And I don't feel sorry for what I did. For killing her. I didn't think evil existed until that night."

Shalimar doesn't miss the trembling of his body as he speaks about it, or the way his hand is gripping the pillow.

"No one is blaming you for anything Brennan. I can't imagine what they did to you and I don't think anyone of us would have done anything differently. I don't think any less of you for caring about what happens to the people you love. There's no shame in doing what your heart knows is the right thing. We're all proud of you. For saving us, even if you think you didn't. No one knows where we are and you saved the world and your friends from two very evil people. And no one can fault you for that. We're safe. You're safe, and that's all that matters."

Brennan wants to tell her that Eckhart's death had more to do with hate than love but he can't. She's just so sure of him.

"He took Emma." His voice sounds small, angry and childlike in the calm of the room.

"And I hate him for that as much as you do. I loved her more than life itself and his life couldn't compare to the sacrifice we were forced to make. It doesn't make you any less of a person to hate the man who took your friend. He hunted us Brennan, like animals in his man made zoo. But we fought back and we became the hunters. It was only a matter of time until one of us killed him. I almost did. Only Jesse stopped me. I could smell him standing above us in that secret room. I could hear the disgusting grate of his voice as clear as day," Shalimar's voice cracks halfway through and when she finds it again, it's trembling almost as hard as Brennan's hands, "and I wanted nothing more than to tear him apart. And that was before he killed Emma and Adam. If I were in your place, I swear to you, Eckhart would have wished you were the one who got a hold of him."

Brennan turns over slowly and looks into Shalimar's dark eyes. He can see the pain and sincerity in them. He knows she can see the tears in his eyes but he doesn't care, she's seen him worse. He just needs to look at something other than the wall and Shalimar is the best sight he can think of.

She closes her eyes and he can see her trying to hold back her own tears. She opens them again and they're bright and smiling. She leans forward and kisses him gently on the forehead. Her arms are still around him, shifted a little from his movement but no matter where her hands rest, they both crave the comfort it allows.

She pulls away slowly and smiles at him. There's a hint of sadness there and it hurts him like the nightmares do.

"You can always come to me, Brennan. There's been enough pain without having to hide nightmares from us. From me. You're not that good of a liar, yourself."

He opens his mouth to retort but the look in her eyes shuts him up.

"If you ever need to, you're always welcome here. I promise I'll always be dressed. Can't promise you that I won't be grumpy, you know me and my sleep," She smiles up at him, "but I will always be happy to help you."

"Shal..." She kisses him again, this time on the lips, soft and chase, but there nonetheless. She snuggles into his chest and holds him tighly.

"That's what love is about Brennan. Helping the people you care about."

His arm slips around her shoulders. "Thank you." He plants a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Brennan counts to ten and then closes his eyes.

There's no pain, no laughing, no deviously blue eyes. Just darkness. He holds Shalimar a little closer and drifts off to sleep.


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