A/N: As always, thanks to Starrylizard for the quick beta. Any and all mistakes left are my own. Enjoy the chapter:)

It was the middle of the night, the movie has ended a long time ago and Marcus woke up to the feeling that something was wrong. Marcus was a light sleeper since childhood... years in the boy's home taught him to be wary, always keep an ear for anything suspicious. No one could get in the middle of a prank war easier than a scrawny eight year old with a chip on his shoulder. The boy's home taught him to always be aware of his surroundings, just like the church and years of being an exorcist taught him how to fall asleep anywhere and anytime. Because once the exorcism started, sleep and food were usually the first physical needs that were pushed to the background.

So it was no wonder Marcus blinked his eyes open in the middle of the night when Tomas made a sound of distress. He lay still for a moment, one hand rubbing over his eyes, listening to see if the sound that woke him would repeat or if he could just turn over and go back to sleep.

"Quien eres tu?" Tomas asked and Marcus froze. Who are you? Tomas' voice was strangled and the question ended in a hitch of a breath.

Marcus sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, momentarily blinking at the sudden light. He almost hoped that the light would be enough to wake Tomas, but the younger man didn't seem to notice. He was too deep in the dream and judging by his ragged breathing, it was anything but pleasant.

His feet were tangled up in the blanket and his skin was covered in cold sweat. His eyes were moving wildly under the closed lids and there was a grimace on his face. Suddenly Tomas jerked, took in one big gulp of breath... and that was it. His chest stopped moving, his whole body stiffening up. Marcus quickly closed the distance between their beds, putting a hand on Tomas' chest.

"Tomas?" he asked, then shook the man, but there was no reaction. Feeling panic crawling inside his own chest, Marcus once again slapped Tomas' chest and called out his name, his other hand squeezing Tomas' arm.

"Tomas!"

For a second there was no reaction, then Tomas' hand reached out and grasped Marcus' arm in a death grip.

"Come on, wake up!" Marcus commanded.

A shiver rippled through Tomas' body and suddenly he was breathing again, gasping for breath, gulping it down as if it was the most precious thing on earth. Marcus found his own breathing coming in strong bursts too as he was trying to calm down, to figure out what was going on. One hand reached out to check Tomas' pulse, the other was still trapped in a death grip.

"Racing like a horse," Marcus muttered to himself. "What the hell are you dreaming of, Tomas?" he asked and gently slapped the other man's face, hoping to bring him back to reality, but there was no reaction.

Tomas started shivering and his lips moved in silent words.

"Olivia?" Marcus heard the surprise and followed a seemingly one way conversation. He was watching Tomas' face change from surprise to horror and as the young priest started reciting the prayer for protection against deception, Marcus couldn't help but pray with him.

Whatever was going on in the dream seemed to worsen though as Tomas gave a sound of such anguish Marcus' heart twitched in pain along with him.

"Come on, Tomas, wake up!" Marcus had just about had enough. Tomas' breathing and pulse were once again reaching dangerous levels and the man was now twitching as if he was being burned alive. Marcus extricated his arm from Tomas' grip and quickly walked over to his bag where he kept a bottle with holy water. Grabbing his rosary he was just about to sprinkle Tomas, when all of a sudden everything stopped. Tomas' features went slack, and his breathing evened out. Marcus paused, for a moment thinking the worst, but he saw Tomas' chest moving and he felt his own heart settle down.

Sitting down on the bed next to Tomas, he lifted an eyelid, relieved to see no white film covering the pupils, although he realized he should've done that sooner. Tomas still didn't wake and that was a bit troubling, but Marcus had a feeling the worst has passed. Still... he dipped his finger in holy water and made a cross on Tomas' forehead, lips and chest, then he knelt down next to the bed and repeated the prayer Tomas spoke in his dream.

When he finished, he returned to his bed and turned off the light. He lay down so that he had a clear view on his protégé and willed himself back to sleep. For the first time in years though, Marcus couldn't fall asleep. That nightmare didn't seem natural and knowing Tomas had a knack for visions made this one seem even more dangerous. The part where he stopped breathing for a moment and couldn't be woken up really scared Marcus, because he couldn't do anything about it. Tomas couldn't do anything about it either, not when he was asleep. He was too vulnerable and the demons sensed it... sensed his weakness. Sooner or later, Tomas will go too far and Marcus won't be able to bring him back. Just like he couldn't help his friend that spent six months with a demon... the problem was that, this time, Marcus wasn't ready to give up. He couldn't just turn around and leave Tomas to fend for himself, even though they butted heads more often than not.

He was the one that took him on as an apprentice and, whether he liked it or not, he had some responsibility to keep him safe, to keep him alive. Even though it seemed to get harder each day. Right now, Marcus could use some advice from God, but he still wasn't speaking to him, and Marcus wondered if he would ever feel God's presence again, or if he was finally, after all those years of service, forsaken and abandoned as an old piece of clothing. With these thoughts in mind Marcus finally slipped into fitful sleep.

"Marcus, it's almost ten," Tomas said and Marcus growled.

"Piss off," he muttered and turned on his other side, putting the pillow over his head for good measure. He didn't hear the soft chuckle, but he smelled the coffee that was put on his bedside table. He could also hear Tomas moving around the room, cleaning up and generally being a nuisance. But the smell of the coffee was strong and he turned around, almost on a pavlovian reflex.

"I hate you," he muttered but reached for the cup. Tomas was just buttoning up his black shirt, one eyebrow raised as if in provocation.

"Well, it's not my fault if you stay up all night watching horror flicks on TV," Tomas said with a smirk and Marcus almost threw the cup of coffee at him. How dare he be so chipper and awake after tonight! Marcus sat up and asked the question that had been on his mind since he went to sleep.

"What was the vision about this time?"

Tomas paused then shook his head in puzzlement.

"What are you talking about?" He didn't like the tone of Marcus' question, or the hard look the other man was giving him. "I already told you everything about the vision at the Grahams."

"I'm asking about the one you had last night."

Tomas laughed.

"What?" He shook his head and looked at Marcus as if he was the one acting crazy. "I didn't have any vision last night. What are you talking about?"

"Bollocks!" Marcus snapped and Tomas recoiled in surprise. "Don't lie to me, Tomas. I thought we were past this."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Marcus," Tomas said in a voice that made Marcus reconsider. He frowned.

"I never lied to you, Marcus. I'm not about to start now."

"No, you don't lie," Marcus admitted. "You just sometimes do the opposite of what I tell you to. But that's not the problem now," Marcus sighed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"You really don't remember anything?"

Tomas shook his head and sat down on his own bed, facing Marcus, curiosity and concern battling on his face.

"What should I remember? I went to sleep then I woke up. Did something happen during the night?"

Marcus looked him straight in the eyes, looking for any deception, any hint of something hidden. But there was nothing, only curiosity and confusion in those brown eyes.

"You... seemed to have a nightmare. A rather violent one, I might say."

Tomas frowned, trying to remember, but there was nothing. He felt a bit more tired this morning when he woke up and his shirt clung to him uncomfortably, still a bit damp from sweet, but his mind was blank. No memory of dreams or nightmares.

"Did I do something?" he asked carefully, his eyes flitting over Marcus' face as if looking for a split lip or some other evidence of him lashing out in his sleep, anything that would explain Marcus' bad mood.

"You stopped breathing for a minute... you were trashing around as if the hell hounds were on your trail, then you just stopped breathing." Marcus delivered it calmly, although when it happened he was anything but calm.

Tomas blinked.

"Are you sure?"

Marcus rewarded him with his trademark look of 'are you an idiot?' and Tomas shrugged.

"It... can happen? I don't know. I'm fine now." Tomas tried to brush it off and stood up, but Marcus grabbed his arm, stopping him. Something in that motion stirred a memory, a fleeting image of light and hands lifting him from darkness, but the memory vanished almost instantly, leaving behind only a warm feeling on his arm, where Marcus was holding him.

"You were not fine, Tomas." Marcus said imploringly and Tomas sat back down on the bed.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Marcus. I can't remember anything. I'm sorry if I disturbed your sleep. If you'd woken me up then, maybe I could remember, but..."

"You think I didn't try?" Marcus snapped angrily. "I was just about to sprinkle you with some holy water when you settled down. You were speaking out loud, Tomas. Saying the prayer for protection against deception, calling after your sister. Then..." Marcus shook his head. "I don't know what you saw, but whatever it was, caused you great anguish."

Tomas swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and shook his head.

"I'm sorry you couldn't sleep, Marcus. But it was probably just a dream, nothing else."

"I couldn't wake you up," Marcus insisted and Tomas shrugged.

"Maybe it was the concussion. Next time, try the ice cold water," Tomas tried to joke, but the mention of ice cold water stirred something in his mind. Yet once again it vanished before he could remember. Shaking his head, Tomas get off the bed and this time Marcus didn't try to stop him.

"This is no joke, Tomas. You let the demons inside your mind... you don't have a clue what damage they can cause."

Tomas clenched his teeth, suddenly feeling angry himself. He knew well enough what damage it could cause, felt it the moment he connected with Cindy and he also saw what damage it could cause to others, like Harper. Still, he didn't need another reminder of his failings.

"I really don't want to talk about this again, Marcus. I don't know what I was dreaming about tonight, but I'm pretty sure it was just that... a dream. What use would a vision be to anyone if I couldn't remember it?"

"You need to take this seriously, Tomas," Marcus said and Tomas raised his hand in frustration.

"Look, I know, okay? But whether it was a dream or a vision, I can hardly control it, so there's really no sense in you reprimanding me for it. Or is there?"

Marcus stayed silent, though his look clearly said he was still fuming over something.

Tomas huffed and grabbed his phone and keys.

"I need to clear my head. I'll rewrap your arm when I get back."

He didn't wait for an answer and was out the door, leaving Marcus to his thoughts.

Tomas didn't go all that far. He walked around the block, still fuming about Marcus's accusation of him not taking this serious. After what happened with Harper, Tomas spent most of his days thinking about the visions and what they really meant for him, if they were help or hindrance. Right now, he wasn't sure and that bothered him. It was one thing was when he had to fight Marcus on the matter, but now he was starting to doubt his own mind.

Tomas was startled from his thoughts by an angry honk of a car and he realized that he'd stepped into a crossroad without looking. Raising a hand in apology, Tomas quickly stepped out of the way and back onto the sidewalk, taking a calming breath and trying to shake off the sudden rush of adrenaline. He felt his breath hitching and something about that brought back an image of a lake... and suddenly all he could see was his sister's face.

'Olivia... I should call her,' he thought, realizing it was all too long since he'd last spoken to her. That was before Bennett told them to keep a low profile, before he discarded his number and the only means of contact his sister had for him. Tomas turned and slowly headed back to the motel. He knew it was a risk to call, but he figured that a quick hello shouldn't be a problem. And for some reason the homesickness he had handled well so far came back rushing like a train, hitting him straight in the chest. He needed to know that his sister and nephew were alright, needed to let them know that he was alive so they wouldn't worry. Just a quick call... there was nothing wrong about it. Tomas reached their motel room door, but hesitated before entering.

He knew Marcus cautioned him to be careful about any contact. Tomas got a quick lesson in how long he can keep talking, that he needed to destroy the number and most of all not tell their location to anyone. It was simple. Still, Tomas had a feeling that Marcus might try and dissuade him from calling his sister, if nothing else then he would be mocking him for his homesickness and right now Tomas wasn't in the mood for that.

Turning around, Tomas sat down on the stairs and for a moment just looked at the phone. He had his sister's number memorized just like the prayer of St. Francis. Yet he was still unsure. If Olivia asked him to come back... how could he explain that it isn't possible? Not now, not until they get a chance to really talk to Bennett and figure out what is going on and who posed a danger to them.

Biting his lip and looking around, Tomas finally made his fingers dial the number. He had to close his eyes when he heard the familiar voice of his sister.

"Hello?"

"Olivia? It's me, Tomas," he spoke, his voice almost shaking. He sucked up every word she spoke, feeling relief upon hearing her voice, of knowing she was okay. But the relief was short lived as she reminded him of the missed birthday and the questions about his whereabouts started. That he expected. What he didn't expect was to hear that someone was looking for him... someone from the church. His gut churned and he felt a cold shiver run down his back as a memory stirred, but stayed under the surface.

"I'm safe, I promise. I love you," he said and finished the call before Olivia could convince him to come back. He wanted to make sure she was safe and right now it looked like the best way to do it would be to stay far away. Pulling out the card and breaking it in half didn't bring him any satisfaction and he was still feeling tense and worried when he entered the motel room.

Marcus was already up and showered, the bandage gone from his arm and the cut strikingly sharp on the pale skin. Tomas knelt down before the man and started tending to his arm as he had done before, though he might've been a bit too harsh. Marcus was silent, but his arm twitched at every touch and Tomas snapped.

"Stop fidgeting!"

"I'm not fidgeting!" Marcus snapped back. Tomas glanced up then back at the wound, covering it with sterile bandage. He put a hand on it to still the older man and calm himself as well.

"Somebody's looking for us," he said quietly and Marcus stilled. "A few men tried to talk to my sister."

Tomas looked up at Marcus questioningly and with hope.

"What's our next move?"

Marcus shook his head, his eyes sad and voice a bit hoarse when he said: "There is no next move. I still haven't heard from Bennett."

"What does that mean?"

"Means we're on our own," Marcus replied a bit angrily. He knew Tomas was looking at him for answers, to take the lead, but right now Marcus himself didn't know what the right way was. He was going on blind and was scared that when Tomas realized that, he would just up and leave.

Tomas looked away, focusing on finishing the bandage on Marcus' arm.

"God will show us the way," he said wistfully, but all Marcus could hear was Tomas' certainty that God will speak to him, that he won't leave him without answer. And that made Marcus angry.

"Like he led us to Harper Graham?" Marcus almost spat, his voice cold as ice and cutting deep. Tomas swallowed, feeling the sting and the reprimand, the guilt he was trying so hard to push back since the visit in the hospital roaring back to the surface, stronger than before.

"I was... wrong about Harper," Tomas admitted and Marcus knew he should have stopped there, but he was angry and jealous and scared, so he lashed out.

"Maybe you were wrong about God."

At that, Tomas looked up, taken aback by the anger and the words. Feeling disbelief.

"So what should we do?" he gazed into Marcus eyes. "Give up? Stop listening?" he asked with choked voice.

"Do you hear anything? Anything at all?"

Tomas frowned at the question.

"Cause I certainly don't," Marcus replied coldly and Tomas felt his stomach coil up at those words. Marcus always had faith and seeing him doubting himself, doubting God, was scaring Tomas more than he wanted to admit.

Marcus stood up and grabbed his long-sleeved shirt, pulling it over his head.

"We should get ready," Tomas said, and Marcus paused at how shaky his voice sounded. "Rose and Harper will be here soon."

Marcus stood still, then slowly finished pulling the shirt down. Tomas left the room with eyes downcast, not once looking at Marcus. He sounded almost broken and Marcus suddenly thought that he didn't want that. He didn't want another broken person on his conscience, didn't want to drag Tomas down with him. If they were to continue this work, this mission, at least one of them needed to be strong and whole, at least one of them needed to be in God's favor. And if that was supposed to be Tomas, then so be it. Marcus wasn't going to be the person to ruin him.