There was enough light coming through the windows to see that sweat had beaded on his brow. His body was sprawled on the bed, but he didn't move as though he was paralyzed. The muscles on his arms and neck stood out as he fought whatever monster he had in his dream. "Cameron." I shook him awake. This wasn't the first time I witnessed him having a nightmare, but every time it happened it never failed to scare me. "Cameron, wake up." His eyes snapped open. I caught the panic and horror in them before he turned on his side, facing away from me. He didn't move, he didn't talk. His breathing was still fast but had quieted a bit, as though he was trying to control it, as though he was trying to hide. What the hell was he dreaming about? "Just a nightmare, Cam," I soothed. "It's all right." I knew he wouldn't want to be touched. I tried before, and he pushed me away. I discovered that leaving him alone after a nightmare was what he wanted. When he sat up in bed with his back to me, swiped a hand to his face and got up, I let him be. Being with Cameron felt like I was holding the ocean in my hands. It was overwhelming and wonderful and impossible to contain. I had the most intense, brutally beautiful, mysterious man beside me, and I would never let go of him. But sometimes, sometimes, I wondered if he would let go of mine. Especially when something like this happened. The nightmares were more frequent now, and it was worrying me. I suggested counseling to him before, but he wouldn't even hear it. I found him in his office, sitting at his work desk. Shirtless and in his gray sweatpants, long dark hair still damp from a shower. I watched him for a moment before I knocked on the open door. "Hi." He looked over his shoulder. "Kara." I sent him a smile, but he didn't return it. He just watched me walk to him, his gaze on me. I stopped in my tracks when I saw what he was holding. It was my blue hair tie. Now he gave me a small smile, pulled open his top drawer and placed the hair tie there. I sat on his lap, hooked my arms around his neck. "You still have my hair tie?" "Yeah." "Cam?" "Hmm?" "You feeling okay?" "Yeah. Sorry about that." "I don't know what to do. You need to talk to someone." "I don't need someone to pick me apart. You're already doing a good job of that." I glared at him. The way he said it made my hackles rise. "Say something stupid again, I dare you." "Stupid, is it?" I rose and pushed him off, but his arms stopped me, wrapping around my waist, holding me to him. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "Shitty mood." My shoulders tensed, still irritated. I was worried about him, but sometimes whenever I said anything about getting help, he'd give me a reckless remark that made me feel he didn't care about himself at all. "I don't mind when it's you," he said after a moment. My shoulders relaxed. "You don't give me that much, Cameron." He didn't say anything. "You still don't remember anything? Any details at all?" I prodded, wanting to ease his burden. He shook his head. When I asked him about his nightmares before, he said all he could remember was the feeling of terror. Nothing else. "I'm okay now. I told you I forget about it as soon as I wake up." "Okay." I let out a sigh, turned to look at his screen. I bit my lip when I saw what he was looking at. "The BC project?" "Yeah." "If you really want to do this, you have to," I insisted. "I don't want to be away from you." "We'll make it work." He caught a lock of my hair between his fingers, rubbed it gently. "It's out of the question if you're not coming with me." I blew out a frustrated breath. "You know I can't." "Then I won't. It's not a big deal, Kara. There will always be new projects." "I feel like I'm holding you down." "You have never held me down. Not even once." "But—" "Enough. I'm done talking about this."