A hand on my back. I flinched away. "Are you alright?"

I nodded.

"Do you need something?" Angelica asked.

I nodded again. My fingers tightened around the bars for support.

"You don't seem alright. Let me get you some tea."

"I'm fine," I managed to choke out.

Tears stuck to my cheeks. I concentrated solely on my breathing. I couldn't think. Couldn't speak. Couldn't do anything at all.

"Alexander," Angelica whispered. She grabbed me by the arm. I closed my eyes. She pulled me away. The breeze disappeared. The stinging of the raindrops vanished. I was met with warmth. "What's going on?"

I shook my head. Was I sobbing? Was I screaming? I couldn't hear my own voice. I had no control over myself.

"I miss him," I managed out.

"I know," she said. "I miss him too." She stopped. I fell to the bed underneath me. I tried to control my shaking.

My palms were damp with sweat. My fingers were growing numb. My heart was beating so loud I could hear it.

She set a hand on my back.

I'm going to lose him I'm going to lose him I'm going to lose him.

I hated the thought. But it was all I could think. Over and over and over again. I wanted to die. I wanted to give up.

My head was beginning to throb. It contorted the things around me. I wrapped my arms around myself.

"Alexander," Angelica whispered, and for a moment, I thought it was her. Eliza's face shone so clearly out of nowhere, that beautiful, unbeatable smile that managed to chase away everything that was wrong with the world. "Focus on your breathing," she reminded me, reaching a hand out for mine.

I did as she suggested, the swaying world around us melting away.

"Everything's going to be okay. Nobody can hurt you, and Thomas is going to be just fine. Alright?"

I nodded, gathering myself together, and opened my eyes.

"Alex, what happened?" Angelica asked.

I shook my head. The panic was abating, the feeling of utter helplessness slowly retreating like the monster it was. I hugged my body, refusing to look Angelica in the eyes.

"Just a panic attack," I mumbled.

"Oh," she said. "What triggered it?"

"What are you, a psychiatrist?"

"I don't know what this is, but judging by your tone, it sounds horrible."

"It's not, but okay."

"Now, what happened?" she pressed, more than I felt comfortable with. I stared at the bed, wishing for a hole to open up and carry me far, far away from here. Back to Earth, with Thomas right next to me and my arms wrapped safely around him, listening to his soft humming until the rest of the word disappeared.

The image brought tears to my eyes, not that anything didn't do that at this point, but it was still always hard to breathe. I played with the blanket, wishing it was him. I wanted him now. I couldn't wait weeks, as he wanted us to. I couldn't wait for something horrible to happen. I had to be with him right now, simply just so I could know that he was safe and happy.

"Nothing," I returned as neutrally as I could. I didn't want Angelica to know how I felt. I didn't want anybody to know how I felt. I didn't need their pity.

Her hand brushed against mine. "I know that's not true."

"And what do you expect to get out of me, huh?" I demanded, but I couldn't watch to see how deep the words cut her. "I just want you to leave me alone!"

She stared at me for a long, drawn out moment. And then, with a sigh, she tucked her legs under her body and shook her head. "Thomas said the same things."

My breath fled my body, like a bird escaping its cage. I opened my mouth to speak, but any words failed me.

"And I actually listened to him." Though she was sitting right next to me, she was miles away. "I should have forced him to let me help him. Then maybe none of this would have happened. He insisted he was fine, refused my help, and I was idiotic enough to believe him. And look how far that got me."

"You don't blame yourself, do you?" I didn't mean for it to come out as a breathless whisper.

She nodded, drawing in on herself in a way that was contrary to everything I knew about her. "I think everyone does." She paused, and for the first time, I saw Angelica Schuyler shaking. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to her," she whispered, hand hiding her eyes from me, but it didn't take a genius to know she was crying.

"None of us did," I returned, unsure of how the roles had flipped in a few short seconds. Regardless, I placed a hand on her back. She leaned in to it, drawing her knees to her chest. Her breaths were rasps, unsteady and failing, and I was worried that perhaps she was going through the same thing I had a few moments prior.

"It feels like a bad dream," Angelica whispered. "Like I'll wake up any moment, and she'll be sitting there right next to me wondering why I'm crying."

I nodded, my mouth dry.

Her moment of weakness was just that, a moment. She pushed herself away from me and flashed me a smile that was far too convincing. It was hardly any different than any other time I had seen her smile before.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" I asked.

Angelica shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "I can't really sleep any more. I... I think I'm afraid of the dark again." She swallowed, her hands interlocked to keep them from trembling. "Like a child."

"It's fine," I said. "I don't think I can sleep either." I turned to face the open window, allowing the cool night air to fill my lungs. I repeated he exercise a few more times until the tension in my shoulders mostly disappeared.

The bed shook with added weight. I groaned as Ira crawled up to me and collapsed in my lap. "Get off, you stupid animal," I hissed, trying and failing to push her off of me.

Angelica laughed, running her fingers through the animal's thick fur. "Hey, Ira. I forgot about you."

"You knew her?"

"Well, yeah. She was one of your favorites." A pause. "Thomas absolutely hated her, even before he was a Tenebrie."

"I can imagine." I rolled my eyes. "What do you mean, before he was a Tenebrie? Why does that matter?"

"Oh," she said, braiding a few strands of Ira's thick fur. "Venandi hunt Tenebrie. It's kinda like a natural hatred? Most people keep Venandi as pets if they can't afford to kill a Tenebrie themselves."

I groaned, leaning back against the bed. "Of course."

"Thomas'll be fine. He's tough."

I glanced up at her, wondering if she was referring to the Tenebrie, or something more. The room suddenly shrunk a few sizes, the air a bit more stuffy. "Yeah. He's died before, right?" It was easier to joke about it. I guess. I'm not really sure.

All I know is that I hate not being sure whether he's okay or not.

Part of me wanted to call to him, reach across the hundreds of miles that were separating us and feel that familiar and comforting touch of his presence, of his mind. Part of me wanted to risk everything just to hear his pretty voice one more time.

I just felt so alone. So lost without him right next to me. I clutched the blanket a little tighter, trying to steady my breathing and failing. I couldn't get the thought of him out of my mind. What if that had been the last time I'll ever see him?

He promised. But what good is a promise if you have no way of keeping it?

My eyes burned with frustration, with anger, with fear. I hated waiting. I couldn't wait for a moment longer. I needed him now.

Angelica shifted, making me jump a little. She cast a questioning look my way, and I mumbled my best attempts at an apology. Before either one of us could speak, however, the door slammed open.

"General Washington's back. He wants us downstairs," James said from the doorway, talking so rapidly I could barely puzzle out what he was saying. Before we could respond, he disappeared down the hallway.

"What was that about?" Angelica mumbled, rising as Ira leapt off the bed and took off.

My heart skipped a beat. I had an idea, and it wasn't good. Fighting back the sudden storm of thoughts in my mind, all doing their best to drown out the other, I tucked my hands in my pockets and hurried downstairs. I didn't wait for Angelica to follow; I had to know what was going on now.

"Relax," Washington said, seeing the look on my face as I entered the sitting room. He sat in a chair against the wall, giving away nothing with that stoic expression.

"Is Thomas—?" I don't think I could have ever finished that question.

He nodded. "Thomas is fine. He delivered a message to me earlier."

The tension from my shoulders dissolved a little. I fell into a chair at the table, trying to steady the rapid beating of my heart.

The room was mostly empty, just Washington and me and the unsettling balm of fear that had wrapped over everything. I sat there as quietly as I could, letting my fingers tap against my knee just to give me something to do.

Only once the room was full of silent, nervous figures did Washington speak. He went to the table, each step slow and deliberate, as though he was hesitant to say something.

"Thomas has reported some useful information." He swallowed. "Enough to where we're going have the advantage. We could win this war here and now."

My heart skipped in my chest.

Washington hardly gave us enough time for the news to settle in. He leaned over the table, and began to detail everything we were going to do. I paid as much attention as I could, but the thought of seeing Thomas again drowned out any other thought I could have.

Just hold on, Thomas. I'll be there soon.