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His shirt stuck to his chest with sweat, but he was cold, cold from the tip of his nose to the center of his heart. The room was light, because Tristan had all but thrown himself in there, wild-eyed and afraid, flipped the light on and stared at his brother and his sister. He'd stared, and he'd looked away, and he'd finally turned and told their parents to go to bed -- nightmare again, go to bed -- and they'd left.

They'd left, but Grayson hadn't moved. The nightmare had been vivid, disgusting and riddled with the things that he feared the most. His incompetence as a senshi, his worry for his sister -- defeat, and death, permanent erasure this time -- and Elke had taken it, just like he always worried she would. She'd taken his wounds and she'd fallen, and when he'd tried to protect her, he'd failed. He'd watched her die, hadn't been able to stop it.

Benny had died. Jude had died. Slowly, the people he cared about, the people who bothered to care about him, were slipping away, and it felt like he was always holding his breath, waiting for the next one to leave. Tristan? Pop, Dad? Elke? Who would it be?

His arms wound around Elke, shoulders still shaking, tears still fresh on his face. He couldn't lose her. Grayson couldn't lose Elke, and he didn't even care that the Zodiacs couldn't stand to lose Virgo, or the senshi couldn't bear to lose one of their own -- he just didn't care about all of that. Not when he was sitting in his bed, and his sister was crying, too, and he knew she was having bad dreams, and for just a moment, he'd really believed she was dead.

"Elke, honey," His voice wavered, caught on honey, making it sound strangled and unsure. It was the first thing he'd managed to say since waking, and he took a deep breath, forced himself to lean back and look into her face.

He loosened one of his arms, brought a hand up to wipe at the tears on her cheeks. He hated to see her cry, he really did, but he'd never felt more glad to just see her.

He tried for a smile, but it was weary around the edges. He thumbed her nose, then slipped his hand over her hair, trying to smooth it in place. After, he reached for the blankets, brought them up more snugly around her.

Though it was usual for them, for anyone that Grayson had sleep over, he was glad they'd shared the bed. He'd woken in such a panic that he didn't know what he would have done if he'd reached for Elke and she hadn't been there. This nightmare was worse than the other one, left lingering aches all over his body, but worst of all, kept replaying every time he closed his eyes.

So he didn't close his eyes.

It was difficult to be calm, difficult to stop his ragged breathing, difficult to keep from shaking, but having Elke right in front of him helped. It helped, even though she was speaking just as brokenly as he was, because she was there. She wasn't dead, and wouldn't die, not while he had the strength in his legs to stand in front of her. It soothed him, and centered him, and though he still felt like he was falling apart at the seams, he focused on Elke in his arms, and his heart gradually stopped its racing.

He tipped his forehead down, pressing it to hers, and his voice was soothing, even if it was a little rough from sleep. "Of course not. Of course not, baby, we're family. We'd never hurt each other."

His hands linked behind her back, and he ran them up and down, eyes closing for a moment. The image of her, blade sticking out of her chest, made him shudder. The feeling inside of him was desolate, absolutely failure, and it made his breath catch again. He would never let that happen. He would never let Elke take his place, never let her see him that hurt, never let her become a victim because he wasn't strong enough to fend off an enemy.

He opened his eyes again, cleared his throat. She was still upset, still murmuring over and over the same thing, though her voice had quieted, and she seemed to be calming. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, doing his best to control his own breathing, to box away the horrified feelings and the bone-deep sorrow over his own dream, so that he could best comfort her.

"I love you, Elke." He shifted, gathered her more comfortably against him, slipped his arm from under her so that he could tuck the blankets around her. "It's all right. We're both here, so it's all right."

He didn't know what her dream had been, was really only speaking in reference to his own, but it was good to hear it. They were both there. They were both fine.

They would stay that way. They had to.

"Ssh," he said, though it was half-hearted. Sometimes it was better to talk, and sometimes it was better to leave things unsaid -- damned if he'd ever known the difference, really. Even now, he wasn't sure if Elke needed to talk things out or just forget about the dream, and the feeling of helplessness settled just as poorly as everything else that was still jarring around inside of him from his own dream.

Still, Elke was there, and she needed him. She clung to him, almost like she expected him to shove her away and leave, but that was the last thing on his mind. If she needed to hold him, he needed to hold her perhaps more; they were two people clinging for dear life, afraid that the other was going to disappear, when nothing could be further from the truth.

"I know, baby." He didn't want to hold too hard because he didn't want to hurt her. It was funny -- he was strong, stronger than he gave himself credit for, and he had to consciously refrain from squeezing too tightly. The last thing that he needed to do was bruise Elke after the dream he'd had. The last thing she needed was to be bruised by him after the dream she'd had.

Barren Pines... Barren Pines. He'd forgotten, or tried to forget... had at least told himself he'd forgotten. It shamed him, and it made him a little sick to his stomach, that it was easier to forget. Benny didn't deserve to be forgotten, he'd just been trying to do the right thing, and even though Grayson knew that, it was easier to forget him because it hurt too much to remember.

Because he'd lived, and Benny hadn't. He always lived, didn't he? Always, and the people around him, they just didn't --

"Barren Pines." Two words, but they held a wealth of anguish, self-deprecation, scorn. "That dream, I -- I had it, and --"

She gripped him tighter; he gripped her tighter. There was barely space between them, but he still felt cold, cold, cold.

"It's okay. It was only a nightmare." Only a nightmare, Grayson. Benny wasn't around to shoot himself anymore, was he -- Jude was dead, too, wasn't he -- Elke was still alive.

They were all just bad dreams.

Terrible, terrible dreams.

Grayson rarely cooked, and generally only under dire circumstances, but nothing sounded better to him than a distraction. Food and a distraction was possibly the best thing. He knew that he wouldn't be going to sleep until Elke did, at the very least, and even then, he probably wouldn't sleep. Lately, he'd had more nightmares than he could remember having over the entire collection of his life, and he had been the child who watched It and had tortured dreams for weeks. He'd thought that having a body beside him would help him sleep, would lend itself to pleasant dreams, but he'd been wrong.

"Pancakes sounds delicious," he said, and he sat up, taking her with him. He smiled, rubbing his cheek on his shoulder, and began to kick the blankets off. "We'll let Pop sleep. I can at least manage pancakes."

He rose, offering his hand to help her out of bed, and led her down the stairs. Despite the fact that it was unnecessary, he kept his hand clasped with hers, even when they got down to the kitchen.

The lights flickered on, and he yawned, cupping his free hand in front of his mouth. "Do you want regular pancakes or banana pancakes? I could do either." Banana pancakes with peanut butter sounded pretty good.

He wished he wasn't deathly allergic to blueberries, because he actually liked the taste. For a moment, he looked at the tupperware cup full of them mournfully, but moved on to pull out the milk.

It was difficult to make banana pancakes one handed, especially since he had to open up bananas and drop them in, then blend it all together on top of that. It took a little longer than it usually would have, but he didn't mind, because Grayson was never in any real rush. He didn't actually want to be let go of, either, so it all worked out.

"Banana pancakes are wonderful," he said, mushing the remains of a banana as best he could. Her next question threw him, and he almost dropped the whisk he was using to make the batter. He'd barely begin, and the milk and eggs were still floating murkily on top of the pancake mix, and he stared.

The silence was brief, but just long enough to have her hand tighten on his arm. He set the whisk aside, covered her small palm with his own larger, broader one.

"Elke." He looked down at her, seriously, even though his hair was wildly undone, fanning all around his face. His eyes were solemn, and kind, when he reached up, cupped the side of her face with his hand.

"You are a tremendous senshi." His thumb marked the corner of her eye, kept her face tipped up to his. "You make me proud, every day. Proud of my sister, and proud of Virgo."