A/N: Merry Christmas...in a sad kind of way. ;3; Hopefully this is self-explanatory but if it isn't, let me know. I had to dance a very fine line. xD Enjoy. :3
She found him at his predictable position. It was late—nigh on 1 AM and he was still up working. She knew he was only doing so to avoid the inevitable rush of pain that would overwhelm him should he ever think to stop. But it was only a misguided attempt to distract himself—she knew that and it hurt to know that he was suffering alone.
"Hershel," she breathed, but he continued to write as if he had not heard her. It was a warm night; he had already shed his outer jacket and she could see the perspiration gleaming on the side of his neck. She knew he would be a lot more comfortable in his pajamas…but it would give his demons an invitation to strike.
But perhaps they could face it together. He didn't have to do this alone.
"Sweetheart," she tried again, encircling her arms in a practiced fashion around him from behind. He stopped for a moment. She smiled, but it kind of hurt.
"I know you want to throw yourself into your work to avoid thinking about what's happened…but you can't do that forever. Come to bed, darling. Get some sleep. You'll feel a bit better come morning…"
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. She wrapped her arms more tightly around him. "That's it," she crooned in approval. "Come on…"
He yawned and she relaxed her hold but kept her arms around him. She imagined he glanced at the clock on the opposite wall for she felt the small jump of realization that moved through him.
"See? It's just as I told you," but her soft words weren't accusatory. "Come to bed, baby…"
He still said nothing, but finally straightened. Claire kept her hand on his arm as he moved his chair away from his desk and stood. He stretched and yawned again and Claire had to swallow her giggle. He blew out the candle he had been using and Claire took his hand and led him through the dark house, her familiarity with it negating the use of any light.
As expected, he didn't even decide to change once he reached the bedroom. He removed his shoes and then his new top hat, carefully setting it on the hat rack he had purchased specifically for that reason and climbed into bed. As expected once more, he relaxed immediately and seemed to fall asleep at once.
There were tears in her eyes; there were some things even she could not change. "Sweet dreams, Hershel," she whispered into the darkness before she too took her leave and faded away.