Sydney fiddled with the ring on her finger as she observed Nigel from the doorway to his room, slightly comforted by the now warm metal. Through the curtains she could just make out the dark hair spread out against white hospital sheets. Otherwise, Nigel was hidden from view. Breathe in, hold, and out, Sydney reminded herself as she tried to quell the queasiness that had been badgering her since finding Nigel.

The last day or so had been absolutely rough on him.

Sydney and Nigel had travelled to England at Preston's request. He had gotten word on a set of rings belonging to Queen Anne, and the three of them had set out to find them.

At the beginning, the hunt had been no more dangerous than any other. As they had gotten closer, the rivals had become more numerous and more deadly. There had been multiple attacks in hotel rooms, several on-foot chases, and physical fights. When they had reached the relic, the three of them had become separated, and somehow Nigel had borne the brunt of one of the rivals' ire, and it showed. He had several broken bones and contusions, internal bleeding, and a possible concussion. As many times as they had faced death together, Nigel had never been this badly hurt.

Sydney had ended up carrying Nigel out of the castle on her back, with Preston worrying beside her. In the waiting room, the two of them had spent their time doing paperwork (Sydney, as his emergency contact much to Preston's chagrin), pacing, and anxiously throwing themselves into the uncomfortable chairs. At some point, Preston had snapped that it was Sydney's fault that his brother was in this situation, and Sydney was having trouble refuting that – it simply added to her feelings of guilt for taking him on these hunts. The guilt gnawed at her; she felt it every time Nigel was seriously injured on a hunt.

Logically though, she knew Nigel had grown to love relic hunting. It showed in his eagerness to join her on hunts, in the delight on his face when they figured out a puzzle, the wonder when he realized he was the first one (okay, one of the first – usually Sydney was the first) to enter a chamber or a crypt or a temple in hundred or thousands of years. Every look of exhilaration they shared when they were successful about finding the relic said a thousand words. Nigel didn't even grumble about wanting a nice quiet teaching job anymore – the thought seemed to have been banished to wherever old dreams went to die. Sydney knew all of this. Knew Nigel could've quit at any point over the years. When she had said to him during the hunt for Buddah's bowl though, that he would enjoy it, she had been delighted to be right, and again on each hunt over the years. He never would've asked her to marry him if he didn't enjoy it – the hunts were a huge part of her life and he had simply told her that he just expected that he'd always have the option to go with her, barring any special circumstances.

When the doctor had told them that Nigel was out of surgery and that ultimately he'd be fine after a length recovery, Sydney had flooded with relief and Preston had pulled her to him in a hug. After a moment of discomfort, she gingerly wrapped her arms around him in return. The doctor told them that Nigel was awake, but sleepy, and one of them was allowed to go in to see him. Preston had nodded at Sydney to go, knowing that Nigel would likely rather see her than him, and now Sydney stood at the entry to his room, almost frozen in place.

Gathering herself, Sydney went into the room to see that Nigel was asleep, lashes dark against pale skin. As she approached the bed, she could see bags under his eyes, and the thinness of his face. The guilt she felt grew – he had been working incredibly hard lately between his thesis, work for her, and the hunts. He often slipped into bed well into the night, always apologetic about waking her, and got up early with her, starting work while she went for a workout. Looking at him, she made a mental note to talk to him about his workload. She pulled the visitor's chair closer to the bed and settled into it, carding her fingers gently through his hair. He looked younger than she'd ever seen him, with tubes going from his pale skin to the machines surrounding the bed. They let off a steady hum, telling Sydney that Nigel was going to be just fine.

"Syd?" came a tired voice.

Sydney jumped, the sound breaking her out of her thoughts. She focused on Nigel's face to find his eyes open, looking right at her.

"Yeah, I'm here Nige."

He reached out a hand for hers and she took it, assured by his movements.

"It hurts," he said to her.

"I know." She used her free hand to brush her fingers through his hair again. Nigel's eyes half closed. The doctor had said he'd be in and out of consciousness because of the surgery and the morphine they'd given him.

"Syd?"

"Mmm?"

"Cold."

"I'll see about getting you another blanket." She went to pull away from Nigel, but he tightened his grip as much as he could, and just wouldn't let her go.

"No, stay."

"Nigel, what –?"

"C'mere."

"I'm right here."

Nigel didn't say anything. His gaze locked on her and she suddenly understood what he was asking.

"Oh Nige. This bed is way too small, and you're in so much pain…" She could see he was fighting off sleep to silently plead with her. Giving in, she pulled the knife that was still in her boot from it's place and carefully placed it in the satchel she had brought with her. The satchel she placed on the chair before she slipped off her boots.

Nigel shifted slowly over in the bed and Sydney gingerly slid in on his left, trying not to jostle Nigel's injuries, or disturb the tubes or wires connecting Nigel to the various machines around him. It took a few moments of shifting before the two of them fit on the bed comfortably – in Nigel's case as comfortable as he could be. Sydney lay on her side, her forehead pressed against the side of his head, and her hand resting gently over his heart. She breathed in the scent of Nigel, dampened as it was by the smell of antiseptic.

"You can rest now," Sydney murmured to him.

Finally, as though he had just been waiting for Sydney to watch over him, Nigel succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep.