I was watching Adam sleep, which always calmed me down no matter what. But even as I was watching his tiny chest rise and fall I couldn’t help thinking and of course worrying about Van. I was trying to work up the nerve to go talk to him, and failing miserably.

I didn’t know why things had been so choppy while we’d been here… okay, maybe I did; I was being way more sensitive than usual and Van was being even more of an asshole. I guess we were both just out of our element and overcompensating or something. Things that were okay back home suddenly became big deals here. And things I was sure Van only thought about doing at home were almost a daily occurrence here. Back home he would never have been jealous of Emily in a thousand years, it would never have even occurred to him, not to say the whole thing about my being… ashamed. I guess the channels were just clearer at home.

My ears twitched and I realized Van was walking down the hall to Adam and the girls’ room where I was sitting. I jumped and straightened slightly, reaching up to smooth my hair back, I couldn’t really remember how long I’d been sitting here. Still, I pretended not to see him when he stepped in the doorway and watched me for a while.

Finally he took a deep breath and asked, “You coming to bed?”

I looked up, the light in here was off but the yellow hall-light was spilling in around him. I could see his expression in the dark but I still wasn’t completely sure what to make of it. “Do… do you want me there?”

That expression I could read. Pain. Ugh. I hadn’t meant to hurt to him. I got up just as he’d started a broken sort of nodding. He stepped back into the hallway without looking at me again and I followed him to the bedroom.

He didn’t look sad… or sulky even… and not mad, either. Just sort of… hard. And thoughtful. I had no idea what to do or say.

We both started changing slowly into pajamas on opposite sides of the room. Van didn’t even give me any pointed once-overs the way he always did when I was changing clothes.

“Are you really mad at me?” it took me a moment to realize that the timid yet sudden voice belonged to me.

Van finally looked up at me, the edge of his mouth twitching. “No. Fuck it Cayn… okay, yes. But not for the reasons you think.” He stuffed his hands in his pajama pockets and scowled at the bedspread. I held back a sigh of relief; he was scowling, yeah, but at least he didn’t look… closed off like he had before. “M’sorry…” I managed.

“Me too…” he sighed, “I’m just…”

I moved a little closer to him on the other side of the bed. “Sad. Me too. I... you know I don’t mean to piss you off… or hurt you or anything.” I swallowed.

He gave a sigh twice as heavy as the last and his shoulders slumped. “I know you don’t. That… helps…” he gave me a very little smile and crawled into bed. I scuttled in next to him and gave a tentative cuddle. “Anything I can do to help… more?”

“Be patient with me.” He said softly.

Oh. I nuzzled his shoulder slightly, “Anything more… um… y’know, immediate?”

His eyes flicked over to me for a millisecond, then he turned on his side, giving me a good view of his back. Then he shrugged.

I guess I was going to have to be a little more aggressive with my comforting, I ran a hand gently down his side, but once I reached his waist he reached up and flicked it away. I was taken aback, but the motion seemed sort of absent-minded, as if he didn’t realized what I was trying to get across. I worked up the nerve and finally levered myself up to kiss his bicep. He jerked slightly, then turned to frown at me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I felt my face catch fire. “I - … or. Um…that is-“

“I’m tired.” He said clearly. “Bitches gots to sleep to too.”

I made fish noises at his back for a while.