Hector curled his hands into fists, bunching handfuls of fabric between his fingers. It was no use, he couldn't hold on, could not ... Finn shrieked as he fell, and then the sound was abruptly silenced.

He woke, shuddering. He was hot, tangled in the bedclothes and yet shivering. His heart thrummed along like the sound of an old sewing machine. The faint blue numerals from the clock softly illuminated Finn's sleeping face next to him. The harsh I'm-angry-with-the-world expression he normally displayed had softened in sleep. The lines on his forehead were gone and his full mouth was just slightly open.

You are so fucking beautiful, Hector thought, and I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.

Not, Hector reminded himself, that he had any right to consider Finn as his enough to lose. Hector's heart, already beating too fast, clenched. Ached, deep inside his chest.

It was wrong, and he knew it. Stupid, and he knew that, too. Hector couldn't help it. He reached out slowly and ran the back of his fingers lightly down Finn's cheek.

Really, really stupid. Finn's eyes opened, normally silver-blue, were several shades warmer in the dark.

"Hey," Finn said, his voice dropped low and breathy, which sent a shiver of longing down Hector's spine that wasn't entirely unwelcome.

"Sorry," Hector said. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"I'm not sure you did," Finn said. He stretched, the blanket tugging down to reveal a good deal of freckled skin. "I think I was about half-awake. Is everything okay?"

Hector snorted, trying to work up derisive, or something, anything, and to his own shock, felt tears welling up behind his lashes. "Bad dream," he said, turning over. "It's okay now."

Finn laid a warm hand on Hector's shoulder. "Hey, now ..."

"It wasn't part of our agreement that you pretend to care about me," Hector said, painfully aware of how close to tears he was, and not even really knowing why. The dream or the reality?

"Seriously?" Finn said, tugging Hector onto his back. "Hector Lange throwing a pity party? I didn't even know that could happen. Man, what's the matter with you?"

Hot, angry tears slid down Hector's cheek, dripping into his hair. "Bad dream," Hector repeated. "Ain't like you need to make a fuss about it."

"Am I making a fuss? I didn't think so. It's all right, Hector." In the darkness, Finn's voice slid like a knife between Hector's ribs, cutting him open, ripping him apart.

"I can't stop thinking what I would tell your family, if something happened to you. Can you just imagine how horrible I ... I never even thought about it, what I was doing to you. Oh, excuse me, Missus Riordan, I'm sorry to tell you that your son got killed because I'm about sixty flavors of asshole and forced him to come on vacation with me."

"Well, I wouldn't care in the least," Finn said. He tucked his hands behind his head and lay flat with Hector, staring up at the ceiling. "I'd be dead, so my responsibility for caring would be all over. That might be nice. Sometimes it's a real burden, caring about other people. Gets all kinds of in my way of doing something for myself. Of course, that's what other people are for, right? To care about me back, so I don't burn out, taking care of everybody? My brother kinda figured that was what you were doing, dragging me on vacation. Forced concern. Taking care of me, just to spite me. Maybe he was right. I don't ... I wasn't scared, today, Hector. I had fun. I've been having fun. For the first time in forever, I don't have to worry about anyone else. I don't have to take care of anyone else. Except you. I'm starting to worry about you."

"And what are you going to do about that?" Hector asked.

"I thought, maybe," Finn said, leaning up on one elbow and tracing a line down Hector's arm, "that I might take care of you."