Nell clutched at her chest and tried to breathe, watching the water from the shower head land around her feet, running through her dark hair and forming a spiral around the drain. Her breath puffed out as she counted, her voice wobbly.

"…seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…"

There was a hole in her chest. She rubbed the spot where she felt it crouching, just behind her heart. Her fingers circled a final time before beginning again.

"One, two…"

She could feel the hole trying to pull her heart in, heavy as gravity, but her heart continued to beat on and on. It had already ripped her emotions, her taste, her thoughts, from her, and they had curled up in the center and died, buried in the graveyard behind her heart. Thinking hurt, remembering hurt, crying hurt.

Her skin was blotchy red beneath her hands, steaming and aching from the heat of the water. She hadn't noticed the burn, dull as it was in comparison to the never ending grief.

She put her hand on the shower handle and stood, staring blankly at the tile, letting the water pour over her. She finally turned it off.

Today was Arthur's birthday. She had sat crossed legged on his spot on the floor, waiting patiently the entire day for a sign, a glimpse of the man she loved. Foolish.

She put on a robe and walked to the kitchen. She hadn't eaten yet today, and the brief thought that Luke might feel her hunger pangs and derail his recovery trying to visit her made her grab a slice of cheese and bread.

Luke. She missed him. Their connection was an ever present part of her, but Luke was so unreachable now. She couldn't hear his voice or see his face if she wanted. He was doing what he needed to do, bringing her brother back to her, and she could feel that he was clean, but she felt lonely in a way she never had before with this last piece of her locked away. She felt him sometimes through the numbness and pain, and she thought it was the piece of him in her that was wrapped around her heart, holding it back from the pit.

She put down her half finished sandwich. She didn't want to move toward her bedroom, but she'd delayed sleep as long as she could, and perhaps there was the smallest chance Arthur would visit tonight.

Her breath came faster. The bedroom door was ajar, and in darkness deep and black inside, she thought something moved.

She grabbed a bottle of Nyquil from the bathroom and took a deep swig before settling with a blanket on the couch. She prayed for a dreamless sleep.