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the door, opposite where Cam sat. Rather than speaking, he
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removed one of his leather gloves. He put his bare, pale hand on
Tristan s forehead like a parent checking for fever. His brow
furrowed, then smoothed.
At last, when Cam couldn t take the silence for another second,
Evan glanced at Cam.  I don t know what s going to happen. I
can t tell you he ll be fine. I can tell you he s still in there,
somewhere. What I felt was only a flicker, but it s there.
Cam swallowed hard against a surge of hope and joy and terror.
If Tristan was still there, maybe he could be reached. Cam couldn t
allow himself to consider the alternative, that the flicker of life
Evan had felt would fade away.
He couldn t smile, but he thought Evan would understand.
 Thank you.
Evan nodded. He turned to go. At the doorway, he paused.
 The mind can endure a lot more than people think. Give him a
reason to find his way back.
All I have is myself. But what if I m not enough?
* * *
For the next few days, Cam did his best to give Tristan a reason
to come back to him. He spent nearly every minute with Tristan,
awake or asleep. During the day, he sat at Tristan s bedside,
holding his hand and talking to him. When he couldn t think of
anything to say, he sang, or read to him.
He left Tristan only when Larry ordered him to. Each night he
returned in time to sleep in Tristan s room. Larry and the nurses
turned a blind eye to Cam s overnight stays. They didn t even
bother to bring in a cot for propriety s sake. As long as Cam curled
up on the opposite side as Tristan s IV, they let him sleep beside
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Tristan. Cam overheard Larry tell one of the nurses it might be
good for Tristan to have someone with him.
As time passed, the hope Cam had tried to cultivate began to
fade. He kept talking to Tristan, and touching him, but he couldn t
help thinking he just wasn t enough. Maybe nothing would be
enough. Maybe Tristan would still be slipping away no matter who
he was, or what he said.
Cam knew his friends were worried about him, but he couldn t
bring himself to care. He didn t lift his gaze from the bed at the
quiet swish of the door opening and closing.
 How are you holding up?
Dix. She d come in a couple of days before and tried to get him
to take a break. She had to be back for another try. Shoulders
tensing, he muttered,  I m fine.
 Well, you look like shit. She stopped beside him.  You need
to take better care of yourself. Come eat something with me, and
maybe take a nap at your place afterward. You can come back
tomorrow morning.
 No.
Her voice turned beseeching.  You know Tristan wouldn t
want you doing this to yourself. She put a hand on his shoulder.
 It s been days with no change. You can t stay here forever.
He shrugged off the gentle touch.  I m not leaving him, Dix.
Dixon looked like she wanted to argue, but instead bit her lip
and stepped back.  Okay. You want me to bring you something to
eat?
He didn t want food. He wanted to be left alone.  No, thanks.
Her face crumpled a little, like she wanted to cry. Being Dix,
she didn t. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.  All right.
But I m coming back tomorrow and you will eat breakfast, or
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else.
 I promise to eat with you tomorrow. Are you happy now? He
forced a smile.
The expression must not have been convincing, because she
didn t smile back.  No, but it s a start. She started to say
something else, reconsidered, and finally ended with,  I ll see you
tomorrow.
 Sure. He returned his gaze to the bed until he heard the door
click shut. Then he closed his eyes and scrubbed his hands over his
eyelids, trying to ease the gritty, burning exhaustion. When he
opened them and saw Tristan lying there, as pale and lifeless as
before, helpless anger filled him.  Damn you. All I wanted was to
protect you. Why didn t you let me?
His anger didn t last long. Hopeless weariness blunted it. His
eyes prickled with tears he refused to let fall. Lowering his head to
rest against Tristan s side, he closed his eyes and began to talk.
Sometime later, Cam awoke abruptly, not sure when he d
fallen asleep or what had awakened him. He opened his eyes to
white walls and the dim, diffuse light of early morning. His cheek
rested on a scratchy, woven surface a hospital blanket. He d
fallen asleep in the hard plastic visitors chair with his head on
Tristan s leg, apparently.
He closed his eyes again, not wanting to face the day yet. The
refuge of sleep would allow him to deny cold, hard reality a little
longer. Despite the uncomfortable position, he started to doze off
once more.
A gentle touch to his hair jerked him back to awareness. He
froze, hardly daring to breathe as the touch came again, firmer. The
hand stroking his hair could only belong to one person.
Slowly, terrified to find it had been a dream, Cam turned his
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head.
Tristan s green eyes were open and alert, and watching him.
Cam had never seen anything better in his life. He wanted to say
something, anything, but emotion clogged his throat. Tears sprang
to his eyes. He blinked them back, determined to be strong. If he
hadn t cried when he thought Tristan would die, he sure as hell
wasn t going to now.
What finally came out was an inane remark.  You re awake.
Cam was up and holding Tristan in his arms before he even
realized he d moved. He buried his face in Tristan s neck, trying
without success to compose himself.
Tristan rubbed his back with the only hand he could move.
 Hey. None of that. His voice was barely a croak, but he was
talking.
Cam pulled away.  Let me get you something to drink. He
poured Tristan a small plastic cup of water.
Tristan accepted the cup with a shaky hand. He took a sip and
coughed.  How long have I been here?
 Five days. Cam looked down at his hands.  I was starting to
think you weren t coming back.
When he spoke again, Tristan sounded thoughtful.  I almost
didn t, I think. I was lost, and there was pain. I felt like I could
float away from it all. I wanted to. Then I heard your voice.
 I m glad you did. I missed you. So much. Cam managed a
smile, despite his trembling lips.
Tristan s eyes nearly glowed with happiness. He reached for
Cam s hand.
The moment of truth had come. Cam knew that, even though
part of him wanted to wait. The longer he put this off, the harder it
would be. He had to trust Tristan, trust himself. Reassuring himself
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