***So, this is where things start to veer away from Book 9. Don't worry, I'm keeping this way closer than True Blood the HBO series stays to the books, but if I followed the book completely, where would the suspense be?***

Moose and I had curled up on the bed to watch a made-for-TV movie while we waited. I tried to get some rest in; I had no idea how long I would be at Sookie's. No matter how hard I tried though, I got this bone-chilling feeling of dread just before I could fall asleep. Each time I tried, the feeling got worse. On my last try, the feeling was so strong I bolted upright, scaring Moose in the process. "What's wrong?" he asked when his heart rate returned to almost normal.

"I don't know." I wish I did. I wish I could just fix this whole thing and go home. Seconds later, my phone buzzed in my pocket. "Hello?"

"Sloane? It's Sookie Stackhouse."

"Hi." I yawned involuntarily. "Out of work?"

"Yea. Can you meet me at my place in half an hour?"

"Sure," I said.

Her house was exactly as I remembered. The large, white house was worn in a comfortable way, making it look warm and inviting from the outside. I knocked on the door.

"Please come in," Amelia said. She showed Moose and I to the living room. "She will be right out." She sounded a bit put out, like she didn't believe in why I was here. Maybe she was just tired.

I settled in to the shabby, comfortable couch next to Moose. The entire room felt comfortable and well worn. Anyone would feel comfortable here.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" asked Sookie as she walked into the room.

"No, thanks," Moose and I said in unison.

Sookie sat in the floral armchair across the room. "So…how does this work?"

I moved to an area on the floor close to nothing, just in case. I sat cross-legged and rubbed my hands together to warm them before motioning Sookie to join me. Amelia was leaning against the doorframe, watching. Sookie followed me to the floor, crossing her legs in front of me, mocking my position. I extended my hands for her to take, and she did. After a deep breath, I closed my eyes and relaxed. It took a few minutes of silence before Amelia couldn't take it anymore. I could hear her release a long sigh as she fidgeted from foot to foot. I opened my eyes and looked at her, cocking my eyebrow when she didn't say anything. "Come on, Sook. She's just a crock. Probably looking for money."

I smiled up at her with mock innocence. "Why don't you make yourself useful and let Eric and Pam in?"

"Nice try," she said after looking shocked for a split second and glancing at the door.

"In 10….9….8…7…6….5….4…..3….2…..1," I said as I felt them getting closer. Shortly after my countdown, Eric burst through the door, Pam in tow.

I smiled broadly at her. "Lucky guess," she said, defeated.

"Quiet, please." I took a deep breath and started concentrating again. After another five minutes of trying, I let out a long sigh myself. "I'm sorry, I'm not seeing anything useful. Or anything for that matter." I pushed myself to my feet. "I'll keep trying." I took a couple of steps before the room spun and everything went black.

It was dark and cold and smelled like dirt in this vision. I looked around, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but they never did. I yelped in pain when I tried to move, stopping in my tracks. The yelp must have been a notice to my captor that I had awakened, because I could hear a door open before a lamp was turned on, illuminating the dingy room. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all either black or dark brown and uneven. I couldn't see a door without moving and causing myself more pain. Speaking of pain, I slowly looked down to wrists in my lap, where the pain was the worst. They, along with my torso and feet, were wrapped in almost a barbed rope I had never seen before. It looked to be more organic than barbed wire; more like something you'd find hanging from a tree in Amazonia. When I looked up again, I could feel the same rope wrapped around my neck. "Are you also the Prince's kin?" asked a tall, skinny woman wearing the equivalent of a body condom who was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of me. Her teeth were unnaturally shiny, making her look like a monster, which contrasted starkly with the fact she glowed beautifully with almost an earthy, green-brown aura. When I didn't answer immediately, she pulled an extremely shiny knife from a small pocket in her back. It was covered in blood.

When I jolted back to the here and now, I was surrounded by faces, first and foremost in my vision was Eric's. I could feel Moose's warm hands smoothing my hair out of my face. "What did you see?" asked Eric.

"Who is 'the Prince'?" I asked, still shaking. I sat up slowly as Eric and Sookie exchanged significant looks.

"Who mentioned the Prince?" asked Eric.

"I didn't recognize her. She was tall, thin, had really shiny teeth." And she glowed, but I wasn't about to say that out loud. I was aware that I saw more than the average person and I was willing to bet she didn't actually glow to the average eye. I pushed myself to my feet with Moose hovering close behind. When I turned to the door, I saw David taking up space in the doorway. Fantastic, I thought sarcastically. I decided to not acknowledge that fact. "Take me back to the room," I said to Moose quietly. I was beyond tired; this vision seemed to take all my energy. Not only did it take my energy, but it gave me a giant headache. "I'll see you later, Sookie."

She opened the door so Moose could help me out the door. David followed shortly behind, sliding into the backseat of the Mustang without asking either of us where we were going or if it would be OK if he tagged along. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him at the moment, and letting him tag along was easier that fighting with him. It wasn't like I had to invite him into the room once we got there. I slid into the passenger seat and closed my eyes as Moose turned the car over and the engine roared to life.

We were halfway to the motel before anyone spoke. Moose was grumbling about David tagging along and obviously worried about me, David was enjoying annoying Moose, and I was staring into space. "This feels like that night after Troppo's," I said before I closed my eyes.

"What does that mean? What happened?" Moose asked nervously.

"She had a particularly frightening vision that robbed her of her energy," said David. I felt his cool hand brush against my hair. "She will be fine, she just needs to 'sleep it off', as you say." He rested his hand on my hair and rubbed his thumb against my temple. My breathing deepened as I slumped farther and farther into the leather bucket seat. I wasn't even aware that we had arrived until the passenger door opened and cool air hit me. I opened my eyes sluggishly to see Moose standing at the door, hand extended. David was behind him, absent, uncaring look on his face. I reached my hand towards Moose's, but I dropped it several inches short of reaching his. "Sloane," David said as I pushed myself back up and tried for Moose's hand again. His face was suddenly concerned, which was mirrored in his voice.

"Hm?" When I missed his hand again, Moose lifted me out of the car.

Moose turned me toward David, who was standing in front of the door to our room. He pulled my hand from around Moose's neck and pulled up my sleeve. "What happened to your wrist?"

I looked at the wrist David was talking about, but it was too dark to tell what he was talking about. "What?" Moose moved towards the weak light above the porch so we could both see better. All I could tell was that I had a darker ring around my wrist. I closed my eyes again as I laid my hand in my lap.

"I don't know," I said barely audibly. It came out as one long slurred word.

"The key is in my pocket," Moose told David. Instead of grabbing the key out of his pocket, David lifted me out of Moose's arms and held me while Moose opened the door. Moose tried to lift me out of David's arms, but he wouldn't let me go. "I guess you have to come in."

"Thank you," reverberated from David's chest. It didn't take him long to set me down on the bed and pull both of my sleeves up. He pressed lightly on one wrist, which hurt enough to make my arm twitch. I moaned in pain when he ran a finger from the base of my ear down to my clavicle. "Does that hurt?" he asked. I moaned again and nodded my head as I rolled onto my side. I was losing the battle with staying awake. I gasped as Moose laid behind me and wrapped his arm around my stomach. He pulled away immediately.

"What?" Moose asked. A warm pair of hands lifted the hem of my sweater up before gently replacing it.

"Where did she get these?" asked David as Moose wrapped his arm around me again, careful to not cause me any pain.

"I've been with her all day and I have no idea. I would have noticed the one on her neck immediately." He carefully slid his hand underneath my head and propped it up with his bicep in lieu of a pillow. If I wasn't sure Moose was marking his territory at Sookie's house, I was sure he was now. I would have loved to see the look on David's face, but I just couldn't open my eyes.

Before David could respond, I lost the battle with unconsciousness.

I woke up and my entire body was sore. I groaned and turned into the warm pair of arms that were holding me. "Hey," Moose whispered. I responded with another groan. He may have whispered, but it was still too loud. My head throbbed. I buried my head in Moose's chest to block the light from seeping in to my vision; I pulled his shirt over my eyes for dramatic effect. Getting the point, he turned off the bedside lamp. "Better?" he whispered.

"God, I feel hungover." I labored to push myself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed and rolled my head, trying to crack my neck.

"Come here," Moose said. I grumbled as I crawled to the center of the bed and sat in front of him. I knew he wasn't the reason I felt like I was recovering from a bender, but I needed to grumble.

He looked really tired. His eyes were sagging shut and had deep bags underneath them. "Not again, Moose," I said as he started pulling my sweater over my head, revealing my bra.

He finished pulling my sweater over my head and unhooked my bra. "Lay down on your stomach," he said after a quick peck. I eyed him suspiciously. He winked. "Trust me." I eyed him one last time before I laid down on my stomach and cradled my head on the back of my hands. As soon as I was comfortable (well, as comfortable as I was going to get with a major hangover), he started massaging my neck.

"Ohhhhh," I moaned as he worked the knots out of my shoulders and started working his way down my back. "You are a God," I said.

He laughed. "Nah, my sister's a massage therapist. She taught me a few moves."

I really didn't know a whole lot about his home life. "Any other siblings? Maybe a gourmet chef in the family? Any tax experts?"

He laughed again as he straightened my spine. "I have 6 younger sisters, and none of them are gourmet cooks or tax experts." Wow, 6 sisters. That even sounded horrible to me and I'm female. I couldn't imagine what being surrounded by that much estrogen would be for a guy. I moaned again as he abandoned my back and moved on to my shoulders and biceps again. He spent extra time on my neck and shoulders, coaxing all of the knots out. When I was a relaxed puddle of bliss, he asked, "what did you see last night?"

I explained the vision in detail. "I was seeing through my own eyes. That's going to happen to me."

"No it's not, because we're going to stop it," he answered as I sat up and pulled my sweater back on sans bra. "That does solve one mystery, though."

"What one?" I asked, fairly uninterested.

"Well, you had these, I guess they were rope burns on your neck, your wrists, and around your stomach. At least now I know where they came from…or will come from…had come from…"

"Don't start down that road." Trying to figure out what tense to use in this kind of situation was impossible. I gave up on that long ago. I pulled my sleeves up, checking my wrists. There was nothing there. "I did?"

"Yea. They were there for, oh, 4, 5 hours. Then they just faded." He was trying very hard to be OK with this. I was not.

"Moose…" I must have looked terrified.

"You've done that before, haven't you?"

I shook my head no. "I've felt it before, but you've never been able to see it."

He paused, his face starting to mirror mine. "Oh." We stared at each other for a second. "In that case…"

"Yea." I was either stunned, almost numbed to any more sensory input, or I was actually handling this very well. I numbly slid off the bed and grabbed my cell phone, which was ringing. "Hello?"

"Hey Sloane. How's it going?"

"Hi Syd."

"You OK?" She could always see—or hear—right through me.

"Yea, I'm fine. What's up?"

"You're a shitty liar. What's going on? Should I come home?"

I crawled back onto the bed and fell comfortably into Moose's arms. "Well, you can go home if you want, but I'm not there."

"Where are you? Lab?"

"Louisiana."

"Sloane!" She yelled at me. "What the hell are you doing down there?" she whispered. One of the kids must have walked into the room because she was trying to hide her anger and fear.

"Sookie needs me."

That seemed to be all the explanation she needed. She let out a deep sigh. "I hope you brought someone with you at least, safety in numbers. By the way, where did you go off to the night before I left? You didn't come home, I checked your room before I left. You didn't get back together with David did you?"

Two questions with one answer. "Moose is here with me, and that's where I was that night."

"Moose Moose?" she asked.

"How many are there?" I asked rhetorically.

I pulled the phone from my ear as she squealed. "God, finally," she said. "Are you with with him?"

"We're dating if that's what you're asking."

She paused for a second, considering this new information. "I'm not sure I believe you." She may not believe me, but she sure was giddy.

"Uh huh." It really didn't bother me if she believed me or not.

"Is he there?"

"Yup."

"I want to talk to him." I handed him the phone and went into the bathroom. I started a hot shower and stripped down to nothing. I made a point of examining my neck, wrists, and torso before I even jumped in the shower. I trusted Moose that the marks were gone, but I needed to see for myself.

Nothing but alabaster skin. I took a long shower, trying to plan my next move. Being down here without being able to see anything to help Sookie seemed ridiculous. Still, I felt like I needed to stay. But I sure as hell didn't want to end up in my latest vision. In that respect, my gut (or possibly my fear) was telling me to go home now.

I had shampooed twice, conditioned, washed my face and shaved my legs and was yet to figure out a plan of action. When I emerged from the steam-filled room, Moose was out cold on the bed, my phone still in his hand. I quickly got dressed in jeans and a Michigan State sweatshirt and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail. When I wore sweatshirts, especially those that fit me, I preferred to wear the hood over my head anyway, so doing my hair was pointless. With the hood down and hanging off the back of the sweatshirt, I felt like the hood was strangling me. I quickly wrote a note to Moose on the stationary pad on the bedside table.

Went to Merlotte's. Call me when you wake up.

I replaced my phone with the note and curled the corner of the comforter over him. I tucked my phone, my wallet, and the rental keys in my pouch before quietly closing and locking the door behind me.

It must be the lunch rush, because Merlotte's parking lot was packed. It took me a while, but I found a spot and walked into the bar. Almost all the tables and booths were filled with people I recognized, but didn't necessarily know their names. It got a little quieter as I walked up to an empty spot at the bar. Sam was the bartender again, and again he was busying his hands with busywork. When Sam smiled to me and asked me what I wanted to drink, the conversations picked back up again. "Just a Coke, please." I lifted my hood and rubbed my forehead before scratching my still wet hair.

"Long night?" he asked as he slid my Coke in front of me.

"You could say that." I took several long swigs of my Coke. It wasn't Pepsi, but at least it was caffeinated.

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Can I have a menu?" I asked. He slid a menu in front of me silently and without taking his eyes off of me. I scanned it. "I'll have the chicken tenders again, I guess."

"Where's your friend?" asked a voice behind me. I turned to see who it was. Jason again, but this time he left his friend at a table.

I turned away from him, back to face Sam. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him. "Sleeping," I answered. I finished off my Coke and handed the empty to Sam, who got started in refilling it.

Jason inched his way between me and the older woman on the barstool next to me. "I never caught your name."

The smart ass was starting to come through. Before I could stop myself, I answered, "Really?" I took a deep breath and turned to him. I didn't come down here to alienate the locals, even if Jason was an idiotic womanizer. I extended my hand. "Sloane."

"Nice to meet you, Sloane. What are ya drinking?"

"Coke," I answered. At its mention, I took a long swig of my newly refilled Coke.

There was a heavenly moment of silence before Jason tried to start the conversation back up. "Do you go to Michigan State?" he asked as he pointed to my sweatshirt.

"Yes," I answered.

"What are you doing in Bon Temps, then? Not that we don't just love having you here," he added on smoothly as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He was using the full extent of his southern charm. If I didn't have Sookie's view of her brother in my head, it might have worked. Probably not, though.

I shrugged out of his arms. "Visiting a friend."

He took my rejection well, transitioning right into his next question quickly. "Oh yea? Who is it? I bet you I know them."

"I'm positive you do," I answered.

"Quit bothering her, Jason," said Sam. "Go on, now." Jason gave Sam a big smile before patting me on the back and retreating to his table again.

"Thanks," I said as Sam slid food in front of me.

"Where is the guy you were with yesterday," asked Sam. Apparently he thought my answer was less then truthful.

"Out cold back at the motel. I think he was up all night watching me." I took several bites as Sam filled orders. When he had a free second, he started drying barware in front of me.

"Watching for what?" I just shrugged and piled more food into my mouth. I had no idea. It wasn't like if I had another vision and more welts started to form that there was anything he could do about it. Sam went back to filling more orders. He didn't stop to talk to me again until after most of the lunch rush had left, leaving just a few of the more inebriated patrons scattered around the bar. It was shortly after he refilled my Coke again and took the empty plate away that I saw just the flash of a vision. I was in the same dark, damp place tied to the same chair with the same barbed rope. The woman in the latex suit shoved the shiny dagger into my chest, pulled it out, and left the room.

I must have done something, because when I was back to the here and now, Sam was watching me with interest. I had covered the spot just below my breasts with a hand and steadied myself against the bar with the other. "You alright?" he asked. Shakily, I stood as I shook my head no. I slowly walked toward the bathroom, covering the phantom whole with one hand and tracing my other hand down the wall to steady myself. If I could just get somewhere where I could recover from this vision without alerting anyone of what just happened. I'm sure anyone would have some questions I wouldn't be able to answer. I was almost there when one of my legs couldn't hold my weight anymore and I dropped to one knee. In what felt like an eternity but was probably more like seconds, Sam was behind me, lifting me off the floor by my armpits. We were far enough down the hall that he shouldn't have drawn any attention when he wrapped my arm around his neck and his arm around my waist and helped me into his office. "What is it?" he asked as he closed the door and set me down in the uncomfortable visitor's chair.

"Vision," I said as I pulled my hand away from the spot on my chest. My hand was warm and wet and when I pulled it away, red.

"Jesus," he said as he took a step back. "How did that…"

I pulled my sweatshirt and the tank top I had put on under it up to reveal a hole that was still squirting blood. "Vision," I said again. "She stabbed me."

He rushed out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him. In a matter of seconds, he returned carrying a new package of bar rags. He ripped the bag open and gave me a handful. Shakily, I took them and pressed them to the wound. "Now what? What do I do?"

With my clean hand, I pulled my cell phone out of my pouch and handed it to him. "Call Mustafa Fallahin."

It took him a second to figure out how to use the iPhone (if you're not used to it, there is a bit of a learning curve). He found my contacts and called Moose. "Hello? Mustafa Fallahin?" He paused, waiting for confirmation that he was indeed talking to Moose. "This is Sam Merlotte from Merlotte's Bar and Grill. You need to come down here. Come in the back."

It didn't take as long as I thought it would for Moose to get here, especially since he didn't have a car. He must have shifted, because when he came bursting into Sam's office, he wasn't wearing a shirt or shoes, just a pair of jeans. "Mac!" he said. I must have looked about as bad as I felt, because he fell to his knees next to me but couldn't quite bring himself to touch me. "What happened?"

"Vision," I whispered. "Stabbed." I was quickly running out of energy. A minute more and I might not have been conscious when Moose arrived. He pulled my sweater up and pulled my hand with the rags away to look at it.

"Missed your heart," he said. He lowered his ear to just outside the wound and listened for a few seconds. "And I don't think they punctured your lungs."

"I need to go back out to the bar," said Sam, obviously overwhelmed with what is going on in his office.

Moose nodded, effectively dismissing him back to the bar. "Thanks for calling," he said as Sam flew out the door, closing it behind him. Moose lifted me off the chair and laid me down on the floor to make it easier for him to put pressure on the wound. "You need a hospital."

I shook my head no. "Explain when it disappears in a few hours."

"I'm worried about you lasting that long," he said. "You need fluids."

I was about to tell him to go get me a glass of water from the bar when Sookie walked in to stash her purse in the drawer. She stopped in her tracks to take in the sight. When she saw I was bleeding, she dropped to her knees near my head. "What happened?"

"She got stabbed in a vision," Moose said.

"In a vision?" she asked.

"Water," I said to Sookie. She jumped to her feet and ran out of the room.

"You have to go to the hospital," Moose said. I shook my head no. It was out of the question.

Sookie rushed back in with two glasses of water. Moose helped me get upright, leaning me against the wall so I could drink half of the first glass. "What else can I do?" she asked.

I pulled the keys to the Mustang out of my pouch and handed them to her. "It's a blue Mustang." She pulled on her coat before going out the back. It was starting to get dark again, and I'm sure David would be here as soon as he woke. I tried to push myself up to my feet without screaming out in pain, but Moose wouldn't let me. He pushed me back down to the floor. "Moose," I objected. "We need to get out of here before someone else comes in." He grabbed my hands and pressed them over the bloody rags before lifting me off the ground. My eyes closed involuntarily as he carried me out the back door as Sookie was pulling up.

"Where are you going?" she asked as she opened the passenger door.

"She won't let me take her to the hospital, so I guess back to the hotel room." Moose carefully lowered me into the passenger seat. It was then that I finally lost consciousness.

This definitely topped my list for the strangest place I've woken up. For some reason, I was fully dressed and in and empty bathtub. "What the…" I groaned as I pushed myself into a sitting position. I instantly gently probed where the injury had been. It was still wet and it still hurt quite a bit.

David and Moose were both in the bathroom watching me. David seemed calm, but Moose wasn't so sure. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, visibly anxious. "I'm fine, Moose. I'm feeling better. It's fading."

"I do not believe that is entirely his concern." David was perched against the countertop, arms crossed against his chest.

"Oh," I said. Oh. Tonight was the first night of the full moon. "Go, be careful," I said to Moose.

"I can handle it," he said as he rung his hands.

"I'm fine here, Moose." He still wasn't having any of it. "Remember how you were going to do everything I said?"

He finally gave in. "I'll be back before you have to leave," he said to David as he stripped off his button down shirt and kicked off his shoes. "Don't lock the door," he called over his shoulder as he walked out the front door.

I extended a hand toward David as soon as I heard the door close. "Help me up."

He completely bypassed my hand and snaked his arms underneath me so he could lift me clear of the tub. He set me down on the small countertop and backed away to a respectable distance as I started painfully stripping off my bloody sweatshirt. I got it up to around my shoulders, but couldn't pull it the rest of the way off without screaming out in pain. I guess you never realize how much you use your core muscles in everyday activities until you can't. David's cold hands pulled the sweatshirt over my head, freeing me. I tried the same thing with my tank, but fell into the same problem. Again, David helped me to free myself. I lowered myself to my feet and said, "I can take it from here." I shooed him out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Slowly, painfully, I examined the hole in my stomach via the mirror. It didn't look nearly as bad as it felt. Then again, there may be a logical reason for that. I could see the tongue marks where David had cleaned and healed the wound, leaving just a painful scab. Great. This wasn't helping us define our new relationship. This was anything but a clean break.

I unhooked and shed my bra then unbuttoned my bloody jeans. I could unbutton them, but leaning down to take them off was going to be difficult. Both my core muscles and my ribs were killing me, especially when I moved. I pushed my jeans and panties down just as far as I could, to just above my knees, before I gasped in pain. I toed my jeans and panties the rest of the way down. It wasn't until I was completely naked that I realized I had nothing to put on to replace my bloody clothes. "Shit," I murmured.

"Sloane?" David asked from just outside the closed door.

"What?" I snapped in my pain.

"Do you need help?"

I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Next, I wrapped myself loosely in a clean towel (just enough to cover myself but not tight enough to rub the blood off onto the clean towel) and opened the door. "Can you grab that shirt for me?" I pointed to the button down shirt Moose had thrown to the floor before he left. While he picked it up and set it on the countertop, I made the mistake of bending down to turn on the shower. I gasped in pain and caught myself against the opposite wall before my core muscles completely gave out and I collapsed forward.

"Allow me," David said. He lifted me back into an upright position and turned the water on for me. Once he deemed it hot enough, he turned on the shower and offered me his hand.

"Close your eyes." Only after he closed his eyes did I unwrap the towel and grab his hand for support.

I took a short shower, only spending the time to wash all of the blood off of me and quickly rinsing my hair out. When I was done, I dried myself as thoroughly as I possibly could, including my hair, which wasn't much. Water was still dripping down my back as I painfully pulled the shirt over my shoulders and buttoned it up. Unfortunately, I didn't have any clean panties to put on, but it wasn't like I was going to be able to get them on myself anyway. And Moose's shirt covered everything. Mostly.

David was again waiting just outside the door to the bathroom when I emerged. "I believe you are missing a pair of these," he said. A pair of black lace boyshorts were in his outstretched hand.

I walked very slowly past him, trying to move my core as little as possible. "I can't get them on, anyway." He kneeled down in front of me and held the boyshorts open for me to step into. I let out a long sigh. "David…" I know this is how it starts. He's going to be my helpful knight in shining armor and sooner or later, probably sooner, I would be riding him and screaming his name again. Not only was I not ready to let him in like that again (if I would ever be ready for that again), but I was with Moose now. "I'm with Mustafa."

"I am here solely to help." I wasn't sure I trusted him. "I promise." I gave in and braced my hands against his shoulders for stability as I stepped into the panties. Ignore it, Sloane, ignore it, I told myself as he slowly pulled them up my body, stopping at my hips. I had to admit it to myself, I wanted him. But fortunately, I have willpower and I was going to use it.

I walked away from him as he rose to his full size. I pulled back the covers and slowly settled myself onto the bed. How was I going to lie down without using my core muscles? Again, it was David to the rescue. He pulled the covers down farther and helped me to settle in to the bed. Ever the gentleman, he covered me with the comforter and kissed my forehead before settling into the armchair. I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to sleep seeing as how I effectively just woke up, but to make it less awkward, I closed my eyes and faked it.