Her nightmares grew more frequent, coming to her almost every other night. When she woke up screaming her throat raw, her family always came to check on her. She did her best to send them back to bed, but they wouldn't have it. One of them would always stay with her in the living room and keep her company.

And it tore her apart, to feel like such a burden.

It was the witching hour when she awoke that night, totally silent. There was no screaming, no ticking of the clock, just the sound of her heart beating in her ears. And because there was no screaming, no one in the house had come to her rescue.

Her night terror was so intense, it was sending her into a panic attack. She couldn't breathe.

Ilona stumbled out of bed and padded through the hallway towards Jonathan's room. When she arrived at the door she was hyperventilating. Should she knock? Should she really burden him with her problems? She began to pace.


Jonathan had been a light sleeper, ever since he had started with his con-man schemes. He'd awaken at the slightest sound, ready to defend himself. Of course alcohol remedied this. More than once he'd fallen asleep drunk, clutching a bottle of booze. But after the events of Hamunaptra, he'd been frightened back to his light sleeping ways.

So when he heard someone pacing by his bedroom door, he was immediately startled awake. Reaching for his gun in his bedside table, he stilled as heard muffled sounds. He relaxed at the sound of Ilona's voice. He realized she was quietly crying.

Jonathan opened the door. And there was Ilona, braid half unraveled, tear-tracks on her face, and his name on her lips.

"Jonathan." She whispered.

Taking her hand, he led her into the room. She sat on the bed next to him, leaning into his side as he wrapped an arm around her. They sat in silence listening to the wind rustling the tree's outside the manor.

"Did you know that after my father died, my mother remarried for a while?" Ilona asked as she tugged on what was left of her braid.

"I didn't"

"A few years after dad passed, mama met a man named Harvey Day. I was 14 then. He was a very kind man. At first." She wouldn't meet Jonathan's eye.

He had a sinking feeling.

"That man was a wolf in sheep's clothing. He..." She paused "He took everything from me and left nothing behind but pain."

His stomach pooled with dread.

"But you have to understand-"she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes. "I just couldn't tell mama, it'd break her heart, she'd lost my father already. She didn't deserve this. So-so when he'd come into my room at night, I'd just-I'd just listen to the ticking of the clock." She was hyperventilating again.

"But now the clock in my room here stopped ticking. There's no clock! The silence is worse then my screaming! I can almost hear him in there, opening the bedroom door! I can-I can-!" She sobbed.

Jonathan pulled her into a tight hug. He was shaking. It was worse, it was so much worse than he had imagined.

She clung to him muttering his name repeatedly.

That was why. Why she was so afraid of him when they first met. She'd known her uncle since she was little, she trusted Rick.

It was a wonder that she had ever gotten close to Jonathan at all. It was a wonder that she could ever trust a man again.


Long after her tears had stopped she continued to hug Jonathan.

"You can't tell them." She murmured.

"I won't." He knew it wasn't his place to tell them. If Rick ever found out it would tear him apart. Hell, it was tearing Jonathan apart.

She looked up and met his eyes. Reaching up, she cupped the side of his face.

"Thank you, my dearest friend." She spoke softly.

He laid his hand over hers on his face.

"Anything for you, Ilona."


First thing next morning, Jonathan went out and bought a new clock for her room.


(A/N): Please Review