Barney had never been a deep sleeper, but that was something he never told Valancy. Truth was, he didn't really care how much sleep he did or didn't get, and the only times he had slept through the night at all in the last few years was after having a few drinks with Abel—an activity that by an unspoken rule was now forbidden with Valancy around.
Having Valancy with him brought far more joy than Barney had thought possible, but it also meant thinking about someone else's schedule, including for sleep. Valancy got up a few hours before dawn nearly every night. Usually to relieve herself, but sometimes to just sit on the edge of the bed and take her medicine, which was always hidden away in her bedside drawer. It actually gave Barney some peace of mind, to have her wake up like that and listen to her tip-toe around, thinking she wasn't disturbing him. Until one particularly bad night.
He felt Valancy stir beside him and sit up a little more suddenly than usual, and the wood of the drawer let out a low, brief creak. He could hear her fumbling with her medicine bottle, and his grip automatically tightened on his pillowcase, helplessness taking the strength out of his limbs. Her breathing, shallow and quick, was off-rhythm, and Barney found himself patterning his own breath after hers, unable to take in enough of the forest-scented air of their cabin. He listened hard as she got to her feet, setting the bottle on the bedside dresser, and strode towards the doorway connected to the front room. Barney waited a moment, ears tuned to her uneven footsteps and heavy breathing, and then slowly slid out of bed and sat up. He allowed another moment for his eyes to adjust, and then slunk over to the door, which was still open a crack, and peered through. A few embers were still in the fire, barely illuminating her dark form huddled partially on the floor, face pressed into the cushion of Lucky's chair. The cat had scooted over rather obligingly and ignored her. Valancy's shoulders shook. One hand gripped the fabric of her nightgown around her waist, and the other clutched at her heart. Barney hesitated for only a second longer before he pulled the door open and walked over to his wife.
He knelt on the floor beside her, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Valancy," he said. Valancy, face still buried in the cushion, made a muffled whimpering noise and freed the hand over her heart to try to push him away. Instead he caught the hand and gently pulled her towards him. She let out a small, weak noise that stabbed through Barney's chest, and the blue light from the moon briefly illuminated her face, tight with pain. Their eyes met for a moment before he gathered her into his arms and pressed her heart against his as tightly as he could. He kissed and stroked her soft black hair, but said nothing as the spasms slowly subsided.
She was quiet for a moment, until she finally relaxed and put her arms around his waist.
"What are you doing up so late?" She said softly. "Planning to sleep in tomorrow?"
Barney suddenly found a lump in his throat, and not trusting himself to speak, nodded against her cheek. His grip grew almost imperceptibly tighter.
"Just as well," Valancy continued. Her voice whispered against his neck. "I was thinking of going into town early tomorrow. Is there anything I should get while I'm out?"
Barney was silent, staring with red-rimmed eyes into the final embers of the fire. Valancy moved her arms to try to gently push him away, and he finally relented, but wouldn't meet her eyes.
"Barney," his arms were still about her, supporting her, and she stroked his cheek until he matched her gaze. Her eyes were pleading. Please ignore it, Barney. Please act normal. She smiled weakly. "You all right? Cat's got your tongue?"
Barney leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. "Potatoes," he said. "I think we're out of potatoes, Moonlight."