Hawk came silently back to bed, pulling aside the sheets. Numair reached out a hand to him, and they arranged themselves on the pillows quietly, Hawk's face pressed gently into Numair's chest, Numair's lips resting in his hair.

"Sorry fer wakin' you," Hawk mumbled, his arms encircling Numair's smaller form. Numair simply made a non-committal noise in response, eyes shut.

After a moment, though, he opened his eyes again, just a little.

"You have a lot of nightmares," he murmured into Hawk's hair. "Would it help to tell me about them?"

"No," was all Hawk said. Numair didn't seem surprised by the answer. He wound his fingers gently into the long hair at the nape of Hawk's neck.

"Perhaps you should talk to someone about them," he suggested.

"I don't wanna give 'em the air to breathe."

Numair said softly, "I worry that they'll eat you alive if you don't, my dear."

Hawk didn't answer that. They laid together silently for a bit, Numair stroking Hawk's hair and neck and the feathers between his wings.

"...If your plan don't work tomorrow," Hawk said at last, "an' the Assembly won't sign off on R.I.T., then what?"

"You are changing the subject," Numair said. A couple raindrops hit the quilt.

"No I ain't. Half my nightmares are about bein' in the trade, now."

Numair looked up in time for a raindrop to hit him on the cheek. A peal of thunder rolled slowly overhead somewhere.

"Then we try something else," he said, and turned slightly, as if to put his body between Hawk's and the rain. More drops fell, hitting him weightlessly on the shoulder. Hawk said nothing, but the livid streaks of lightning and the rain spitting down out of the low sky said enough. Numair told him, "I'll try until it kills me if I must. Someone must do something."