When Elliot stumbled dazedly into Stan and Zeke's training session and found them both motionless in the middle of the mat, he thought they might actually be dead.

Not dead in terms of the normal vampire existence of being undead, but dead as in stepping-into-the-sunlight or getting-staked vampire dead. They were just too still.

The near constant fog and fatigue that had been clouding his mind for the last two weeks lifted in the face of panic and shock. Elliot's heart made a valent attempt to beat sporadically, but ultimately failed and remained as stagnant as it had been for more than 50 years.

He slowly took a deep breath that he didn't need, held it, and tried counting to a hundred. When that didn't work, he continued on to two hundred. When he still didn't feel any calmer, he kept going. By the time he hit 2700, he felt as though he could actually expel the air in his chest as a slow exhale rather than a scream.

Stan and Zeke were frozen in place, mid-grapple. Stan lay flat on his back restraining Zeke in a firm choke hold from behind. It would have been more worrying and incapacitating if Zeke actually still needed oxygen to survive. Instead, the younger vampire had his elbow wedged into Stan's ribcage seemingly looking for leverage to get to his feet. It was as if someone had hit pause in the middle of a fight scene and forgotten to play it again.

They were motionless.

Eliot cautiously edged closer to the mat, picking up one of the metal bars used for weapon sparring on the way.

He could do this. He wasn't some mundane or werewolf or fledgling that passed out at the sight of death. He's survived as a vampire for more than half a century. He could do this. He was not afraid.

Eliot nudged Stan's foot with the bar, then darted away.

The older vampire immediately kicked out, but didn't open his eyes to look for the perpetrator. Zeke, who'd been jostled at Stan's movement grumbled indignantly, but settled when Stan pulled the younger vampire closer like a child would a teddy bear. Then they both returned to doing all too convincing impersonations of statues and corpses.

Eliot sighed in relief, stepping back on to the mat.

Stan and Zeke thankfully not stepping-into-the-sunlight or getting-staked vampire dead. They were just asleep.

Or at least, mostly asleep.

Eliot forgot sometimes that while he may be nearly half a century old, Stan was significantly older than that. Therefore, by the time Stan had swept his leg out, knocking Elliot's feet out from under him and pinned him down under his legs, it was too late to react. Or at least, that's what he'd tell Lily when she got a hold of him.

In the meantime, Elliot reasoned, he might as well settle down and get comfortable since neither Stan nor Zeke looked like they were going to be waking anytime.

…

When Lily stormed into the training room half an hour after she'd sent Eliot to retrieve Stan and Zeke for patrol, she found all three vampires laid across the training mat motionless.

Stan was holding Zeke in a chokehold while pinning Elliot down with his legs. It would have been a perfectly acceptable fight sequence had they all not been fast asleep for it.

In the safety of her own mind—since everyone was still pointedly not acknowledging what was going on—Lily admitted that this might actually be a more serious problem than she'd anticipated.

The first few incidents had been acceptable under the circumstances, but the situation was getting out of hand.

…

The Middle Members never discussed the time Jacob hadn't noticed the open manhole while on patrol and promptly disappeared into the sewer system with a loud splash and exclamation about a ruined jacket.

It was one of those things that was better left unsaid because if they started talked about that then they'd be obligated to talk about how the patrol had managed to arrive back at the hotel three hours later and failed to explain to Raphael how exactly they'd lost Jacob and not noticed.

In the name of self-preservation, the patrol never told Raphael that they'd only manage to track down Jacob two hours later after Zeke had wandered into the same manhole and fallen on top of Jacob… who was fast asleep.

By the time the rest of the patrol, two members short by then, had managed to devise a way to retrieve their lost patrol mates from the sewer, Zeke and Jacob were both too asleep to be grateful or even notice. The patrol had been tempted to leave them there for the rest of the night. But that was before they realized that, sewer or not, Zeke and Jacob were actually the luck one. No one else had been fortunate enough to catch more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks. Needless to say, the patrol promptly retrieved their missing members with vengeful glee.

…

Over breakfast, after another day of listening helplessly to the Fledgling's nightmares and failing to fall asleep themselves, no one commented on the dark rings under the eyes of all the vampires around the table. It was too much effort to pointedly not complain about how unfair it was that vampires were impervious to sickness but not sleep deprivation.

…

When Elliot goes down in the middle of the fight and doesn't come back up, Lily regrets not having left him safely asleep on the mat with Zeke and Stan. But with half of the Clan out of commission with varying levels of lucidity, injury, and sleep-deprived dazedness, she couldn't spare another member of the patrol.

No one talks about the panic and fear that bleeds over into the Clan bond when Lily can't find Elliot in the aftermath, because they all felt it first-hand.

Lily is praying hard and desperately to a God in Heaven that she'll never get to meet. Praying to find Elliot but also scared of what she'll find. When she sees him, he's still and unmoving. Sorrow spills over into the Clan bond.

When he doesn't react to her approach or her pulling him out from behind the dumpster he'd been thrown against, she pretends it was no different than just two hours ago when she'd all but dragged him out from under Stan by the time he'd noticed and woken up.

When Lily tapped on his forehead and ordered him firmly to wake up, she pretended it was no different than all those times she'd done so after he'd overslept or fallen asleep during clan meetings.

It turned out however that she didn't need to pretend that he was about to wake up, because Elliot did. He was as alive as an undead, sleep deprived vampire could be.

When the Clan felt Lily's relief and knew they were still whole, no one talks about the boiling under current of determination and resolve.

They all know that this can't go on. It was too close a call almost losing Elliot to risk it happening again.

Raphael needed to come home now. Business meeting be damned. Because, as it turns out, no one could sleep fall asleep without his lullabies anymore. Needless to say, they all blame the Fledgling.

…

Raphael is already at the Hotel Dumort by the time they get home. He had felt the shared spike of panic and fear the moment Elliot had gone down. The following wave of relief had not been enough to calm him.

The first thing he notices is how utterly exhausted and worn his clan looks. It's more than the usual level of fatigue that comes from battle. No, this level of exhaustion runs deeper than the torn jackets, bruising, blood and general grime they are covered in. Raphael can see it in their eyes and the dark bags beneath them.

Everyone looks vaguely haunted and utterly sleep deprived.

No matter how much he pesters, yells, and threatens, everyone refuses to tell him why they all look like they haven't slept in weeks.

He doesn't see the pointed, though tired, looks everyone exchanged. After all, the secret must be protected.

…

At 10:06 am, the Middle Members tuck themselves into bed and eagerly wait for the Fledgling to make his move so they can all finally go to sleep.

At 10:07 am, Simon began his attempt to sneakily ease his door open, inch by inch, just wide enough to squeeze through.

At 10:08 am, he began the same process to shut the door as soundlessly as possible.

At 10:09 am, Simon began his so-called his ninja moves, creeping silently down the hallway.

At 10:15 am, Raphael's door was quietly pulled open and close.

At 10:16 am, the muted whisper of lullabies being sung began.

At 10:17 am, Raphael listens as the entire hotel falls utterly silent, save for his own voice. His clan is asleep. He smiles softly to himself and continues to sing, lest they wake up before they are well rested.