Nadir shook himself from a slight doze and looked at Erik. Erik was still lying on his back, his head slightly tilted towards the wall. Nadir sighed forlornly. Erik hadn't moved. His profile was stark against the dark wall. His eye and visible cheek were sunken, the lines on his face harder with suffering. Nadir listened intently. Erik's breathing was regular, and it seemed to Nadir he was taking deeper breaths, but there was no way to be sure. He had deceived himself before, thinking Erik seemed doing better, thinking he would wake up at any minute. Nadir shook his head and had a look at his watch. It was seven-thirty. Dawn would come soon, or so Nadir hoped. He stood up and wandered to the window. He opened the heavy curtains and looked out. It was pitch black, and Nadir felt his spirits fall. Why on earth did he always have to wake up before sunrise? These hours were the most difficult ones. Time seemed to stop still. Everything was quiet, and the lack of noise only made more intense the feeling of anxiety. But he shouldn't have dozed, he scolded himself. What good was it for Erik to have a snoring gaffer sitting by his bed?
There was a slight rustle in the room and Nadir turned around. He was elated when he noticed Erik's head was turned towards the fire and his right arm, which had been resting by his side, was now resting on his chest. Nadir hurried towards the bed. Erik's eyes were bleary and unfocused, but after a couple of blinks a weak smile lifted the visible corner of his mouth.
"My friend," Nadir breathed.
Erik opened his mouth, but no sound came through his parched lips. Nadir picked up the glass of water from the nightstand and carefully lifted Erik's head so he could drink.
"When?" Erik asked as soon as Nadir let his head back on the pillow.
"After lunch. Yesterday."
Erik closed his eyes wearily.
"What time is it?"
"Seven-thirty in the morning."
Erik nodded, almost imperceptibly. Nadir knew he was trying to estimate the severity of the attack by calculating how long it had taken him to wake up, by gauging how weak he felt, how much pain he was in.
"Gracie?"
"Sleeping. Do you want me to. . ."
Erik shook his head, opened his eyes for a second and then slid them shut again. Nadir knew he would soon slip into unconsciousness again. He hurried to grab the flask of medicine on the nightstand and measure a spoonful. He put it against Erik's lips.
"Open your mouth," he ordered.
Erik obeyed, swallowed the medicine and grimaced.
"More water?" asked Nadir.
When he got an affirmative answer he held the glass against Erik's lips again. Erik had a couple of sips and cleared his throat.
"Damn doctor," he rasped. "Can't prescribe a medicine that tastes good."
Nadir couldn't help his grin. Erik watched him from under half closed eyelids.
"Cheshire cat," he spat.
Nadir's grin got wider, if possible.
"Do you want anything else?"
"Turn. . ." said Erik in a faint voice.
His right arm crossed his torso, but Nadir knew only too well that Erik was too weak to gather enough momentum to turn. Gently, he slid his hand under his friend's back and rolled him onto his side. Erik curled up in the bed, as if he were a little child, a hand under his good cheek.
"Is there anything else I can help with?"
"Go to sleep, Daroga." Erik's words were slurred, but had an edge of annoyance that pleased Nadir immensely.
