“I’m sorry you had to drop everything and come down here,” he says. I turn and face him, still battling with the brush.

“I know. I understand why you called.” I look at Sylas, but he’s still knocked out. “He needs help. Not the kind we can give him.” I meet Cash’s eyes and he nods slowly.

“I know. I didn’t think it was this bad.” Huh. Guess he hasn’t seen Sylas in this state before.

“He’s had a few episodes that I know of. Especially when he gets too much information at once. Or when it brings up the past.” Cash gets up and paces the room.

“I wish I knew before we came. I wouldn’t have brought him.” I know Cash cares about Sylas like a brother.

“It’s not your fault. Do you mind telling me what exactly happened before the episode?” He sits back down and rubs his face with both hands. He’s just as exhausted as I am.

“We found Andrew at a shitty hotel just outside Dallas. The goal was to lure him somewhere more secluded and take care of it. We were just doing surveillance and then Andrew came out of his room. The minute Sylas saw him, he… I don’t know. He panicked. He started screaming and thrashing around and I had to drive away so his father didn’t see us and know that we were coming for him. Thinking back, it wasn’t the best plan.” They should have brought more backup.

“I got him back here and then he stopped screaming long enough for me to shove him through the lobby and up into the room. He sat down in the corner and didn’t move. I tried talking to him, slapping him, dumping water on him, everything. He was just… gone.”

I sigh.

“I know. It’s like he gets locked in his head and he can’t find his way out,” I say and Sylas finally moves. He’s been so still I want to check his breathing. His eyelids flutter and then open.

“What?” he says. I was confused when I woke up, but that’s probably nothing compared to how he feels now.

“Welcome back,” I say, going over to the other side of my bed so he can look at me.

“Where am I?” he says. His voice is so scratchy. I’m about to ask Cash to get him something to drink, but he’s already on it. Sylas lifts his head and sits up like every bone in his body aches. Cash hands him the water, but his hands can’t hold it. I grab it from Cash and hold it to Sylas’ lips. He downs it, coughs and then asks for some more.

There’s a knock at the door that must be the room service, so Cash goes to get it and wheel the cart in. He’s gotten some of everything. French toast and fruit and yogurt and coffee and muffins and eggs and bacon. It’s enough food for about ten people and they’ve sent place settings for six. It reminds me of the night when Sylas and I ordered room service for dessert and the same thing happened. What a long time ago that was. Lifetimes.

“Hungry?” Cash asks Sylas.

“I don’t know,” he says, sliding to the end of the bed and putting his feet over so he’s sitting up. His hair is messed up in the back from where he was sleeping on it. I want to get up and smooth it down, but I think he needs his space right now.

Cash makes a plate for Sylas and gives it to him. He’s still too weak to hold it, so Cash moves the tray so Sylas can use it as a table. It’s not until he’s eating that I get up and make myself a plate. The food is so good I nearly moan. I feel like I haven’t eaten in years.

Cash is last to get his food and then the sound of cutlery on china and the sound of chewing fill the room.

I inhale two fried eggs, four strips of bacon, two pieces of toast and two glasses of orange juice before I start feeling more normal. Sylas eats slowly, with tiny methodical bites. I chase my breakfast with two cups of coffee and that helps wake me up a little and makes me feel more human. It’s amazing what the human body can do on only a few hours of sleep.

“I’m sorry,” Sylas says when he’s cleaned his plate. Cash goes back for seconds. I think Sylas should eat more, but I’m not going to push him if he doesn’t want to.

I’m not sure what, specifically, he’s sorry for.

“It’s okay,” I say, wiping my mouth with my napkin. “We don’t have to talk about it right now, but when we get home, we need to.”

He lays back on the bed and stares at the ceiling, his hands behind his head.

“I know,” he says. I expected him to put up more resistance. “This was a bad idea. You were so right, Saige. I’m sorry for fucking this up so badly.” Cash clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

“I don’t care if you hear this, Cash. I need to apologize to you, too.” Cash finishes his second plate of food and refills his coffee.

“It’s over now,” I say. “We can go home and figure things out from here.”

Sylas opens his mouth to say something, but then just nods.

“We should get going,” Cash says. God, the last thing I want to do is get on another plane.

I expect Sylas to say no. That he wants to stay and give it another go. But he’s silent as Cash starts packing their things up.

“Sylas?” I ask. He doesn’t answer. I try again. “Sylas, are you still with us?” I’m afraid he’s going to go away again.

“I’m here,” he says in a soft voice.

“Are you okay with leaving?”

“Sure,” he says, which isn’t exactly an answer, but it’s probably as good as we’re going to get.

I head for the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I also change my clothes and when I come out Sylas and Cash are also in different clothes. Cash uses the bathroom and then Sylas has his turn. I hang out near the door, just in case. Not that I think he’s going to do anything, but he’s in such a fragile state, I don’t want to take any risks.

We check out of the hotel at seven and then we’re on our way to the airport. The first flight out is at ten, so we have some time to kill at the airport. I wish we could just hop on a plane and be gone, but that’s just not going to happen.

Cash decides to go on a coffee run since we could all still use it. I’m left alone with Sylas. He’s been quiet since we left the hotel and I can’t get a read on him.

“I’m worried about you,” I say as a few more people sit down at the gate to wait for our flight. I try not to envy their lives, but I do.

“I know,” Sylas says, but that’s it.

I can’t seem to get a conversation going with him, so I stop trying. I get on my phone and start scrolling through social media just to pass the time. Cash comes back with coffee and scones for all and I stuff my face again. Sylas just stares at his and sips his coffee carefully.

Messing around on my phone gets boring after a few minutes, so I start talking to Cash. Not about anything in particular, just casual stuff. Nothing that could trigger Sylas. It helps us pass the time until we can finally get on the flight. We have two seats together and then one across the aisle.

“Sit with me?” I ask Sylas, even though Cash’s seat is next to mine.

“Sure,” he says and I ask Cash if it’s okay. He’s fine with it, especially when a cute blonde is in the seat next to him. Before the flight is even full, he’s got her laughing. He works fast.

Sylas is staring straight ahead and I have to touch his arm when the flight attendant asks him if he wants anything to drink. He says no and I briefly consider ordering alcohol, but it’s still so early. I get a Coke instead.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” I’m struggling to reach him, even though he’s sitting right next to me and our arms are touching on the armrest.

“I’m fine,” he says, but he’s anything but. He’s so far from fine. I take a risk and intertwine my fingers with his. He lets me and I hope that’s progress.

“You’re missing class,” he says as the flight attendant does the little safety presentation no one pays attention to.

“It’s okay. I emailed them and said I had a family emergency. It’s not a complete lie. You’re my family. And I’ve barely ever missed before, so I can get away with it.” That’s the truth. It’s one of the upsides of being a good student. When you need to get away with something, it’s a hell of a lot easier.