She wondered which of them it would be first. It was him. She had hoped it would be. If it had been her, he would have held too many cards. Almost, she was waiting for it.

Still, Raven was startled out of sleep by his thrashing, tangled in the blankets like a rabbit in a trap. It took her a moment to remember where she was, who he was. The room was very dark, and she had not lived here long enough to know it waking.

"Erik?" He was struggling against something. Across the room, the stereo rattled on the dresser top.

Shaking off sleep, she tried to sort out blankets, find something to hold. One bare shoulder. His body arched, fighting something invisible.

"Erik? Wake up! Erik!"

The digital clock blinked fitfully as it lifted, then went dark as the levitation pulled the cord out of the wall.

His eyes snapped open. For a moment he did not know her, and then the present flooded back. His body sagged against her. The clock crashed down on the bedside table.

"It's just a dream," she said. "It was a long time ago." Raven reached for his hair, drew him closer.

There was something blind in his movements, as though he was not fully with her yet. Not yet self-conscious. Not yet proud.

"It's all right," she said, stroking his hair. He did not pull away yet. "Just a dream, Erik." She said nothing more, just waited until his breathing slowed. When she felt the tension gather in his shoulder, she released him, a minute before humiliation would lead him to pull away.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said, and went into the bathroom. Long minutes, and a production of running the water gave him time. When she came out, the lamp was on and the stereo was playing softly.

Erik was sitting on the edge of the bed, setting the clock. He looked up, shrugged. "I'm sorry I woke you." As she had expected, his jaw was set.

Raven slid back into bed, not touching him. "It doesn't matter." She stretched her long legs, creamy skin and pink toenail polish.

"No?"

"No," she said. Now it would be easier, tomorrow night, or next week. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

She raised an eyebrow. "Just asking."

Erik finished setting the clock. "There isn't anything to say."

"I suppose not."

He put the clock down, looked at her, one hand touching her chestnut curls, as though making sure she was real.

"Come back to bed," she said. "It's late."

Four days later she woke shaking, while he cradled her and said "Raven?"

Coming from where she did, she hit him full across the face with all her strength.

There was a terrible scene involving nose bleeds and towels and an ice pack. He was, she thought, remarkably calm about it. He must be used to dreadful scenes.

After all that, he turned on the stereo and they lay quietly in the dark, listening to someone singing about going back to Blue Bayou. Raven put her head on his shoulder. "Damaged people," she said.

He ran his hand over her arm, warm and real. "So?"

She closed her eyes, feeling the strong beat of his heart under her face. Morning came, as it always did.