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"Adam! No!"
Ophelia clawed at the covers, throwing them away from her as she scrambled backward to curl up against the headboard. The horrors conjured by her sleeping mind flashed before her – a bruised, mangled body and once-vibrant green eyes glazed over in death – and she couldn't hold back the single, choked sob. She raised a hand to her sternum, her fingers digging into the sopping black fabric of her tank top in an attempt to calm her racing heart.
Murphy still terrorized her sleep some nights, but this... this was worse.
A few deep breaths later, she forced her body to relax one muscle at a time. She shoved the nightmare from her mind and climbed out of bed with stilted movements. She was soaked with sweat, the black tank and dark gray scrub bottoms clinging uncomfortably to her damp skin. The glide of a hand over her sheets confirmed they were damp as well, and she grimaced as she stripped the bed.
The sheets were far nicer than anything she had at her apartment, but she'd discovered that to be the case for everything in her room. Farah had admitted right away that Nate was to blame for the unnecessary opulence. It looked like her apartment on the surface, but closer inspection revealed a sinfully comfortable mattress that probably cost four months of her rent, high-end carpet that cushioned her bare toes like fluffy clouds, and Egyptian cotton sheets that glided over her skin like satin... and were now wadded up in her arms as she carried them to the laundry basket.
Exhaustion weighed her down as she moved back to the bed. She sat on the bare mattress pad, the set of extra sheets from the fully stocked linen closet abandoned at her side, and checked the time. With a groan, she fell backward on the bed. She'd managed a whopping three hours of sleep.
Sitting up again, she looked to the door as her mind returned to the subject of her nightmare and the ordeal they'd endured just hours ago. They'd saved Sanja, but Ophelia's heart thumped painfully in her chest as she remembered the wounds and bruises littering Adam's body. Before she realized it, she was out the door and padding down the hallway toward Adam's room. She stopped halfway there as her mind caught up with her feet, but apparently she was close enough to draw attention.
At the far end of the hall, Adam's door opened, and someone stepped into the hall. The person turned toward her, and she recognized the lean shape of Nate's body, his long-ish brown hair falling around his face in waves. She shivered. She was too far away to make out his expression, but she knew he could see hers. She arranged her face into her usual neutral façade before continuing down the hall.
Nate stayed still, hands in his pockets, waiting for her. She stopped a few paces away, and his eyes roved over her as they faced one another in the dimly lit hallway. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Another nightmare?"
His warm voice soothed her frazzled nerves like a soft blanket on a bitterly cold day – until she processed his meaning. She stared at him, her mouth falling open in surprise.
"What?"
The word came out as a whisper. Nate, of course, heard it just fine. He shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and took a few steps toward her.
"That's why you were up the other night, too, right? I can smell the leftover adrenaline and sweat. So unless you're doing midnight calisthenics..."
He trailed off, and the lopsided smile that had briefly graced his lips fell into a concerned frown. She took a step back.
"I just came to check... to make sure..."
She wasn't usually so flustered. Then again, she wasn't usually standing in apparently smelly pajamas in front of a vampire who couldn't look unattractive if he tried. She flicked her eyes to Adam's door before shaking her head and taking another step back.
"I didn't mean to disturb you."
She looked up to find him smiling, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. "You didn't. You're always welcome to check in with any of us. Anytime."
She held his gaze for a moment. His face softened, and she leaned toward him, like a plant following the sun.
"He's okay," Nate continued. "Just sleeping."
She nodded, her eyes falling on the door once more. Being so near Nate made the words of weakness and emotion bubble up inside her. His empathy compelled her to honesty.
"It's my fault."
Despite her efforts to keep the emotion from her face and voice, her lower lip trembled. She pressed her lips into a thin line and lifted her chin. Nate's brow furrowed.
"What? No, it's not."
"I chose Sanja," she said with the barest flicker of a tense smile. "Adam paid for it. He could have-"
Ophelia cut off as a lump rose up in her throat and threatened to choke her. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, but the darkness only held more pain as the images from her nightmare flashed through her mind.
Her eyes flew open at the brush of fingers along the back of her hand. Nate had moved closer but stood far enough away that she didn't feel crowded. She watched as the fingers reached out again, this time tentatively closing around her palm and tugging.
"Come on."
She looked up at him, and he jerked his head toward the door. She took a deep breath and nodded. Her fingers grasped at his as she entered Adam's darkened room for the second time that night.
The lamp in the far corner shed just enough light for her to see Adam. As she'd done earlier, she stopped beside the bed and watched the deep rise and fall of his chest. His bare arms still sported some bruising, but the cuts had nearly disappeared.
Something settled inside her. She let out a long, soft sigh and closed her eyes again, this time forcing her mind to picture Adam as he was here and now - healing, breathing, alive. She opened her eyes when Nate squeezed her hand.
"There," he murmured just loud enough for her to hear, "you see? He's on the mend. He'll be back to himself in a few more hours."
"Yes."
"You-" He cut off, and she heard the click of his throat as he swallowed. "I have to admit I'm surprised to see you again tonight. You two fight so much, I thought you'd be glad for the break."
Nate laughed, and Ophelia sent him a flutter of a smile as she tried to remember the last time she'd really fought with Adam. They still sniped back and forth, of course, like when he'd tried to dismiss her interest in Trappers a few weeks ago and she'd come back with her usual deadpan sarcasm - yes, because withholding information from me has worked out so well for us in the past.
But actual fighting? They hadn't done that since those early days when Adam had been trying to keep her off Murphy's trail. No, these days, the tension between them wasn't anger.
I wish it was only me.
The words echoed in her ears. She rolled her shoulders back and pulled her hand from Nate's grasp.
"We're teammates. That goes beyond petty squabbles." She turned to find him watching her with something like wariness. "I'd do the same for the rest of you."
At that, a genuine smile broke over Nate's face, like the sun breaching the horizon on a crisp fall morning. Warmth spread from her chest and into her limbs, and she let her lips turn up in a small smile.
"I love that," he whispered.
Ophelia furrowed her brow, the smile fading in favor of confusion. "What?"
"When you smile. You do it so rarely, it feels like a victory every time." He looked down and shook his head before meeting her gaze again. "I hope you know that we feel the same way about you."
He said "we," but something about the warmth in Nate's gaze made her think he really meant "I." His undivided attention held her in place, and she marveled at the way he could just say things like that out loud. She was in awe of his thoughtfulness and the way he treated her with kindness and care, as if he thought her special. He made her feel-
She averted her gaze, her eyes landing on the door. "I should get back to bed. I don't have a vampire's constitution."
"Of course," he agreed before looking over at Adam. "He really will be fine."
"I know. I just..."
I needed to see for myself.
Nate nodded like she'd said the last part out loud, though she knew she hadn't. He tilted his head toward the door.
"Can I walk you back to your room?"
Her gaze wandered to Adam, his earlier words - his medication-induced confession - echoing in her ears yet again. During the past few weeks, she'd begun to wonder about his strange moments of softness toward her. Sometimes... the things he said...
Her heart thumped pathetically in her chest as she remembered the way he'd held her close for the carnival photo, his kindness after the attack on Bobby, his comforting words after hearing her have to lie to her friends.
Those fleeting moments, however, were always followed by a reaffirmation of his antipathy, if not for her, then for his own soft feelings. It was as if he didn't like that he liked her, as if he resented her for existing and making him feel things. Adam's behavior was different from the thirty years of cold distance she'd experienced from Rebecca, but it dredged up all the same feelings of inadequacy.
She needed to cut off the part of her that craved his attention. She needed to keep her distance.
"Ophelia?" Nate stepped forward, his brows furrowing. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine." The lie came easily, so she told another. "I can make it on my own."
"You can, but you don't have to."
His tone was light and warm, his words once again dripping with subtext. But the sentiment spoken as comfort landed heavy on her shoulders. She shook her head.
"Yes, I do."
She ignored his little noise of dismay and turned away. The doorknob was cold under her fingers as she gripped the metal, but Nate's gaze seared her back. She paused, something inside her yearning to give in, to let Nate be the one to comfort her and provide the kind of affection she'd never known.
But that path led to disappointment. He would inevitably tire of her and her inability to feel the right things. Say the right things. Be the right things. If she could hold out long enough, they could settle into a risk-free, friendly-but-distant working relationship.
Still, she couldn't seem to stop herself from looking over her shoulder. Nate smiled at her, but his distressed expression belied the curve of his lips. Her gaze tried to wander again to Adam, but she closed her eyes against the urge.
"Goodnight, Nate."
"Goodnight, Ophelia."
She slipped out the door and closed it behind her with a soft click.