The Doctor woke up to feeling a slightly cool breeze on the small of his back. It wasn't overly cold, but it felt cool to him, having been asleep, and he stirred and rolled over. Chase wasn't sleeping, again--that much he could tell from his breathing, and this was getting past frustrating and into entirely worrisome and unhealthy.
"Can't sleep," Chase admitted quietly, his hands folded on his torso as he stared up at the ceiling as if there were answers there, like maybe God would just display 'you're forgiven' in big neon lights if he waited long enough. "Did I wake you?" he asked worriedly.
"'s all right," the Doctor said, lying on his back as well, so that he wasn't speaking into the pillow. "I wasn't that far gone anyway. You've been like this for weeks, you know." And it wasn't like it hadn't affected him, too.
"I know," Chase said, voice hushed with guilt and worry and fear and a dozen other things that he hated feeling. "I've at least been managing small naps and a couple hours a night, so I'm not a total zombie like I used to be," he said, because there was that hope to go on.
Comments 40
"Rob," he mumbled. "You up?"
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