A/N: It's here! It's here. Almost a full week late but I got it done. THANK FUCK. It might be a similar wait for the next chapter I'm afraid. Someone suggested somethings I could do to help get myself into the headspace I need to be in, but I'll be honest - getting into the headspace isn't the problem. Getting out of it is.

I've had hundreds, if not over a thousand anxiety attacks. I've been depressed. Getting my self into Harry's brain isn't actually the hard bit, it's making sure I don't go in so far I can't get out that worries me. In some ways writing this was cathartic, letting me express the sheer mindless terror I've had to get used to in the last ten years, but in other ways it's kind of like walking on a type rope. Whilst on fire. Freaking impressive if I manage it, going to be a bit of a fucking mess if I don't.

I've started on the next chapter all ready, and it's a complex one artistically. I hope people can keep up. For now, here's chapter 12 - in which things continue to suck for Harry.

"I'll try," Harry agreed idly, feeling rather light headed. Probably from the throwing up and the not eating and the going from scared to okay to scared and everything all the time. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. He frowned down at his jeans, swaying a little where he sat. "Kurt? Can I borrow some pyjamas? My jeans aren't comfortable to sleep in."

"Sure, Harry, I'll grab them in a minute," his boyfriend squeezed Harry's shoulder when the door opened again and Mr Schuester and Burt slipped back in. Harry tensed against him and clutched at the blanket that had slid down to his legs, pulling it over himself and Kurt with jerky movements and clinging to the edge of it. The two men politely ignored his childish attempt to comfort himself, instead sitting at Kurt's desk and at his vanity with carefully blank expressions.

"Hey, Harry," Mr Schuester greeted him with gentle cheer, leaning forward on Kurt's vanity stool. "I'm going to be helping out for the next couple of days, so we just need to know what we're going to be dealing with. Is that all right with you?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded a little, tugging nervously on the blanket. "Yeah, I'll - what do you need to know?"

"How long's it gonna take to get these drugs out of your system?" Burt began, his voice firm. Harry's response was automatic, parroting the information he'd been given by his therapist last year.

"A week," he rasped. "I mean, it'll be months before I stop wanting it but - but - the really bad symptoms should only last a few days. It's - it's fast."

"What kinds of 'really bad' symptoms are we talking about?" Burt prompted, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

"Nausea, dizziness, fever, weakness, anxiety, headaches, stomach cramps, and fainting," he recited, his hands clenched in the blankets hard enough that he could feel the material stretching. He cringed when he heard Mr Schuester let out a long breath and Burt make an unhappy noise. "And since I won't have anything making me calm I'll be - I'll be scared and stuff. You don't - you don't have to deal with it if you don't want to."

Burt snorted, rolling Kurt's desk chair far enough forward that he could clap a hand on Harry's knee over the blanket, "If you really think we'd leave you to deal with that crap on your own, you're crazy."

"Remus did," Harry pointed out, curling back against Kurt helplessly. "He left me."

"We're not going to," Mr Schuester leaned forward as well, not reaching out but pinning Harry with a firm gaze. "Harry, I promise you, we're not going to abandon you."

"Why?" Harry's voice cracked and he stared blankly back at his teacher. "Don't you get it? Everyone leaves because they should. I don't deserve - I don't - "

Warm lips on his temple made his breath catch and his vicious words trail off. Kurt's arms tightened around him so much that it almost hurt, but it was a welcome sensation amongst the nausea and weakness.

"Sweetheart, we're not going anywhere," Kurt whispered once again, his voice thick with repressed tears. Harry cringed at the sound of his boyfriend's pain, knowing that he was the cause, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away from the comfort he was affording. "Just let us do this, please. We want to help you."

I'm not worth it.

Harry's eyes flickered helplessly around the room, taking in Burt's grim expression and Mr Schuester's damp eyes. He could vaguely hear noises downstairs, whispers that reminded him of the whispers coming from the Veil, and he dragged the blanket closer to him. The adults shared a look across the room, and Kurt sniffled near Harry's ear.

"Harry," Burt eventually began, shifting on his chair and looking over at the shivering teenager again. "We're gonna need to do some planning, but I'm gonna explain what's gonna happen, okay?"

Harry didn't respond, so Burt just sighed and went on anyway, "Me and Schuester are gonna take some time off work. We both got time saved up, so don't you worry about that, okay? Between the two of us, Kurt, and Carole, someone will always be with you to help you get through this. With me so far?"

"You don't have to do this," Harry whispered weakly, but Burt ignored him.

"You can stay here as long as you need to, and Schuester will work on getting any legal stuff clear. You're gonna be fine, kiddo. I promise you now, we're not going anywhere until we're sure you are."

There was a pause as the two men waited to see if Harry would react. When he didn't, Burt sighed again and rubbed his face, "Kurt's going to stay in here with you tonight, Harry. I'm pretty sure I can trust you two not to be inappropriate right now."

"Dad!" Kurt yelped, and Harry couldn't help the flicker of a smile that crossed his face at the blush he could almost hear light up Kurt's face. "Oh my God, really?"

"You can stay in here, Kurt, so cool it," the man rolled his eyes as Mr Schuester hid a smile in his hand. "Harry, I figure you're gonna be doing a lot of sleeping, but just let one of us know if you need to go the bathroom or whatever."

"I'm tired," Harry muttered nonsensically, and Kurt shifted behind him. "Kurt, can you - I mean, can I...?"

"Sure, sweetie, just let me grab them. I promised him I'd let him borrow some pyjamas," he explained to the adults as he shuffled off the bed. Mr Schuester stood at that and shot Harry a weak smile as Kurt rummaged through his drawers.

"I'll let you rest, then. I'll be back tomorrow morning, Harry. Hope you sleep well," he nodded to Burt and said a quiet goodbye to Kurt as he slipped out the door, and Burt stood as well.

"You just shout if you need help," Burt directed the question at Harry, but the wizard could see the way Kurt turned to listen, the way Burt glanced at his son; he didn't know if Kurt could handle it. Kurt shut his drawer closed with a snap and turned, mouth pinched.

"We'll be fine, right, Harry?" Kurt didn't seem to expect an answer, just sweeping across the room to drop a shirt and sweatpants onto his bed. "Good night, dad. I'll see you in the morning - well, later in the morning."

"Goodnight, Kurt," Burt said reluctantly, slowly making his way towards the door. "Goodnight, Harry."

Harry reluctantly loosened his grip on the blanket as the door closed with a click. Kurt turned his lamp on after a moments' fumbling, the bright light making Harry's head throb and his eyes water.

"Sorry, sweetie, but I can't see a thing without it. I'll turn it off as soon as I can," Kurt soothed, helping the swaying Harry stand and pressing a cool hand to the boy's flushed forehead. "Gucci, you're burning up. Can you get into the sleep things okay?"

"Yes," Harry slurred, shutting his eyes against the way the room spun and tilted. He raised his hands to the front of his shirt and tried to pull it over his head. The movement knocked him off balance and sent him sprawling back onto the bed, his t-shirt tangled over his eyes. He vaguely heard Kurt made a distressed sound from across the room, and before he could struggle too much his t-shirt was being tugged off of him, and another soft long-sleeved shirt was eased over his arms and head. Kurt was leaning over him, folding the t-shirt with one hand as he tugged the new shirt over Harry's chest, and he turned away to give Harry some privacy.

"I'll just leave these here, give me a shout if you need help," he murmured, resting the pair of sweatpants he'd been juggling next to Harry and walking over to his dresser. Harry managed to wrestle off his jeans with a few weak kicks and a little light-headedness, and he pulled the sweatpants on slowly. It felt better to be in the thin cotton clothes rather than his own, cooler and lighter on his increasingly sensitive skin, and he half dragged himself back towards to pillows to bury his face in the sheets.

"Oh, good," he heard Kurt say behind him, already beginning to drift off. "I'm going to join you in a little while, I have to do my moisturising routine."
Harry grunted his understanding against the pillow, enjoying how the cool surface felt on his flushed face. He dozed, nausea and dizziness clouding the edges of his mind, until he heard the light click off and felt Kurt crawl in next to him. He rolled over to look his boyfriend in the eyes. He felt tears begin to well as he stared at Kurt, faint tremors rocking through him as fever began to burn in his blood.

"Things are going to get much worse," he whispered weakly, raising a trembling hand to rest on Kurt's chest. "So much worse."

"I know, sweetheart," Kurt soothed, brushing a lock of hair away from Harry's damp forehead. "But after things get worse, they'll get better. And I'll be here all the way. I promise you."

He could see the castle burning, flames and smoke plumes billowing out from the stone. He stood, helpless, listening to the screams and cries of all the dead - no-one made it out alive. He stood on the shore of the lake, staring up at Hogwarts, his home, as it burned.

Something was dragging him back towards the lake, cold rotting hands with talon like claws that pulled and tore as they pulled him back towards the tumultuous black water. There were just so many bodies in the waves, bodies with red hair and freckled faces burned almost beyond recognition. He couldn't swim, needed to swim, but the hands were dragging him down and under the thick, gluggy water. He thrashed and fought but they pulled him under, made him open his eyes and see the corpses floating around -

"Jesus, Kurt, what's happening? Is he having a fit?"

"No, I think it's just a nightmare, but don't touch him. He'll lash out."

- had to get away, had to pull away from the clawing, grasping hands and get to the surface so he could breathe, he couldn't breathe -

"He's going to hurt himself! Can't we just-"

"Dad, no! Just - trust me, okay? He told me once never to wake him up from a nightmare, only Ron and Hermione can do it without him hurting them. We just - have to wait it out."

- voices on the edge of his consciousness, he could escape if he could get to the voices but that way is sickness and pain and it would be so easy to stop fighting and just drown -

"Come on, sweetie, please wake up. It's not real, Harry, none of it is. Harry, please."

Kurt.

Harry opened his eyes, the darkness of his dreams giving way to a piercing, painful light. He could vaguely hear himself cry out and twist away, caught up in the bed sheets like a dog in a net, and he barely managed to roll over to his side before he was heaving.

Kurt rested a hand on his back soothingly, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades as he retched. There wasn't anything in his stomach left to vomit, so he just drooled and choked and cried.

"Can you get him some cold water, please? He feels too warm," Kurt murmured quietly behind him, and Harry could hear Burt let out a shaky sigh.

"Yeah, I'll just - should I get Carole? Will she be able to do something?"

"Probably not," was the tired reply from the countertenor, and the mechanic just sighed again and shuffled out of the room. Harry sobbed over the sheets as he became more aware of the rolling sickness, the chills, the pain blooming in his stomach and behind his eyes.

Hurts, can't stop gagging, I feel sick I feel sick...

"Try to slow your breathing, sweetheart," Kurt rubbed a hand over Harry's back again. The wizard could kind of feel him moving off the bed, and suddenly there wasn't his comforting warmth behind Harry any more. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing, managing to get it relatively under control by the time Kurt slid back next to him with a cloth.

"You just need to sleep it off," Kurt muttered as he wiped the sweat and drool off of Harry's face. "Right? Just a few days of this and the worst of it is done."

Worst, no no no, this isn't the worst, it'll get worse so much worse I just want to sleep and sleep and not wake up and it hurts, it hurts so much I feel sick, I feel sick, I want to die and go away I just want to be left alone I should be alone so pathetic, so dangerous, look at what I am, look at me I'm falling apart-

Harry just whimpered as his stomach twisted and cramped, curling up a little more with a dry sob. He flinched violently when the door opened, twisting in the already tangled sheets to look over his shoulder wildly.

Someone here, no one should be here I don't want to get hurt please don't hurt me please don't don't don't don't -

Harry wrapped himself in the tangled sheets and blankets as tightly as possible, barely peeking out from his safe little nest to actually see who had walked into the room. Burt had slowed to a stop in the doorway as the teenager tried to cringe away from him, slowly raising the glass of water in his hand so Harry could see it.

"I'm just going to hand this to Kurt, all right kiddo?" the man soothed, slowly passing the glass to his son without taking his eyes off the shivering lump on the bed. "You boys need anything else?"

"I don't think so," Kurt murmured, tugging on Harry's blanket to try and find the boy underneath. Harry pulled it back over himself with a frightened moan, an irrational panic rising at the thought of leaving his little cocoon. Kurt let out a frustrated breath, exhaustion and distress making his hands tremble and his words slip out of his harshly. "Harry, come on. You need to drink something."

Harry flinched at his boyfriend's tone, curling up tighter.

"I don't think that's going to help, buddy," Burt murmured, and for a moment Harry wasn't sure if he was talking to him or to Kurt. Then Kurt sighed weakly and placed a gentle hand on Harry's back.

"...I know. I'm just tired," Kurt voice was a little shaky, a little raw. Harry felt guilt well up in him like a wave at the weakness in his boyfriend's words. He knew why the other boy was tired.

I'm hurting him, I'm hurting him, he wouldn't have to do this if not for me...

"Harry, please just take a sip," Kurt pleaded softly above him, weak under the ringing in his ears. "Please? For me?"

For him.

Harry hesitantly allowed the blanket to be pulled down, trembling hard as Kurt slowly, cautiously raised the glass to his lips. The water was sweet and cold in his dry mouth, his ravaged throat. He drank for as long as he could bring himself to, taking short sips at Kurt's quiet encouragement, before he finally had to pull away.

"'m scared, Kurt," he bit out over the lump in his throat. The wizard couldn't hear how uneven and scratchy his voice was, how he was loud then whisper-quiet in less than a second - he barely knew that he was speaking. "'m so scared and I don't know how it's gonna end, I don't know whas' goin' on and I just - I wanna die, I don't wanna do this-"

"I know, sweetie, but it's going to get better," Kurt whispered, brushing sweaty hair off of Harry's face. A sob wrenched out of Harry's throat and he grabbed at Kurt's silky pyjama sleeve. He tugged his boyfriend down by his side weakly, burying his face against Kurt's chest. Strong, slender arms curled around him and pulled him close. The door shut quietly, but Harry still jumped and whimpered, making Kurt hurry to sooth him.

"Hey, shhh, it's okay. It was just dad leaving," the taller boy lightly stroked Harry's back until his trembling eased a little. Kurt stifled a yawn over Harry's head. "Do you think you can sleep anymore?"

Sleep - dark images, bodies in the water - no no no, don't want to sleep, don't want to sleep but Kurt is tired he's so tired he should sleep, just wanna lie here and hold him and feel better when am I going to feel better -

"Just - can't sleep. I can't," Harry muttered, twisting his hands in Kurt's pyjama top. "But you - you need to, so-"

"Hey, don't worry about me. I'm young, I can manage one sleepless night-" Kurt protested, but Harry shook his head.

"No, no you need to sleep, Kurt. I just wanna lie here with you, I can do that while you sleep-"

"-I'll just think of it as practice for college, I'll have plenty of sleepless nights then-"

"It'll ruin your skin."

Kurt paused then, and Harry idly stroked the silky material on his back. He found himself getting distracted by the feel of it; it was smooth and cool under his hands, despite the heat of Kurt's skin under it. It felt good on his itchy, stinging skin; Silk is soft, I like it. I like the silk. It feels nice. Soothing.Harry was snapped out of his tactile musing by a chuckle from Kurt that rumbled through his chest.

"Even hysterical and half delirious out of your mind, you still know me so well," he murmured affectionately, and Harry felt a gentle kiss being pressed to his head. "Okay, I'll try to sleep. But you wake me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay," Harry agreed automatically, still gently feeling the silk. "Can I keep - I like the silk, it feels soft against the pain, can I keep touching it?"

Kurt paused for a moment, "Feeling my pyjamas is helping?"

Harry nodded bashfully, his hands spasming against Kurt's back, "I'so soft, and it's cool, and my skin hurts and itches and it's too hot but it feels like - i's soothing, is all. Like you but a fabric. I's like a fabric you."

There was a muffled giggle above Harry's head, but the wizard ignored it. It really was helping, strange as it was. He felt less anxious, less sick, more together when the material was underneath his hands, and he even managed to smile a little at Kurt's affectionate, "All right then. You can keep touching my shirt as much as you like. I'm going to try and get to sleep now, I have to be up in three hours."

"Mmm," was all Harry could mumble as he rubbed his face against Kurt's chest. He stayed quiet as Kurt's breathing slowed and his arms became dead weight on top of Harry. The darkness of the room felt claustrophobic, oppressive, but when he was curled up with Kurt it felt better. Manageable. He could still feel the edge at the back of his mind, could still feel himself dangling on the precipice of anxiety and hysteria, but he focused his feverish, confused mind on the soft silk under his hands and on Kurt's steady breathing and he held on.

Just a few hours 'til sunrise, one day down, will it get worse? Will it get worse than this? Worse than so close, so close to panicking and screaming and can't think, can't think straight at all and want to die, want to get out of Kurt's way and Kurt's life and not hurt anyone anymore but I promised Kurt I would live, just gotta hold on...

As the minutes dragged by Harry just kept twitching and shaking. Kurt's breathing slowed down as he drifted off, his grip around Harry's back loosening but not feeling any less solid. He must have been completely exhausted - he didn't even twitch when Harry's arm spasmed and flinched against his side.

Stop that, gotta stop moving, I'll wake him up and he's only tired because of me but I can't stop, just keep twitching twitch twitch my body won't listen why won't it listen stop stop stop.

Harry turned his face towards the already damp pillowcase and whimpered into the fabric. He was sweating constantly as the withdrawal tore through his system. He felt hot and cold and his blood ached and he would have liked nothing better than to just die in his sleep but he'd promised Kurt, so he held on.

He focused on running his trembling hands over the smooth silk on Kurt's back. He focused on the subtle scent of something sweet and musky from Kurt's moisturisers and lotions, those things that bemused Harry but made the pale skin he so loved to caress softer than he could believe. He focused on the gentle sounds of Kurt's breathing, punctuated by little snores every so often, and ignored the roaring and rushing in his head as best he could.

The hours dragged on but eventually he could see light glowing from the bottom of Kurt's curtains. Harry hadn't slept at all, terrified of the nightmares and needing the comfort Kurt was bringing him. He'd slept so much in the last few days he'd vaguely thought it wouldn't be hard to stay up for the last few hours until dawn, but he'd underestimated his body's weakness. His eyes burned and his head hurt, and the hours of oppressive dark and quiet had made him paranoid and hypervigilent; every creak and shadow flickering made him jump and cringe, cuddling closer to Kurt's chest. Kurt hadn't stirred at all. He'd muttered in his sleep a few times and shifted in Harry's grip, but he hadn't seemed disturbed by his cling-on. The wizard was relieved - he'd tried so hard not to wake his boyfriend with his shivering and twitching.

A sudden sharp, loud noise shocked a cry out of Harry's dry throat. He twisted in the blankets, jerking Kurt closer towards him and pulling away from the sound in one movement. His heart rate and his breathing started to race, and Kurt's surprised yelp only spurred his fear.

No no no unsafe, gotta escape, gotta escape, trapped trapped trapped-

"Harry, what- no, you'll fall off the bed, just calm down."

Kurt, pull him down don't let him get hurt don't away don't like it scared scared scared-

"Okay, sweetie, deep breaths. Harry, you're hyperventilating. Come on, everything is fine, you're just tangled in the sheet, okay? Slow down a second -

No no wrong not fine noise don't like the loud noise make it stop-

"Don't - like - it."

"What?"

Make it stop make it stop make it stop -

"Noise noise noise-"

"Oh what - Harry, that was just my alarm, it wasn't - everything is fine, I'll turn it off."

Make it stop.

"Kurt? Everything okay in there?"

"Everything's fine, Finn, go away."

"Are you sure, dude? We heard you scream from downstairs-"

"My alarm scared Harry, that's all."

Stopped, no more noise that's better, not so scared, calm down no no no don't open the door who's there, who's there-

"Don't come in!"

"Kurt, it's me-"

"I don't care, dad, don't scare him like that! Harry, sweetheart, it's just my dad, everything is fine. My alarm is off, you're safe, there's nothing to be afraid of. That's it, that's better. Just slow your breathing down."

Okay, okay okay I'm okay, everything is okay calm down, slow down, slow down down down I feel sick god why won't it stop-

Harry's breathing slowed as the anxiety attack settled, but he still found himself moaning and curling up as nausea hit him like a truck. He slumped back to the bed, barely aware of Kurt's alarmed cry and Burt rushing into the room as his eyes rolled back in his head. He didn't pass out - pain shot through his head before he could, jolting him awake.

"Harry, kid, what hurts?" Burt's worried voice and rough hands on his shoulders only just registered through the onslaught of sensation - hurts hurts hurts too hot too close just wanna gonna be sick, gonna be sick - but Harry heard it and managed to gasp out a weak answer.

"Head. Stomach. Feel sick," he curled as far inward as he could, trying to escape the pain that had suddenly decided to take up residence behind his eyes. Kurt made a sympathetic noise and Burt shifted closer to the bed.

"Do you feel like you could get anything down? You need to eat something," the man leaned over to press a hand on Harry's sweaty forehead, shifting back when the boy flinched away.

"No, I can't -" Harry's stomach rolled at the thought of food and he curled inward. "'feel sick."

"Kurt, get ready for school, I got this," Burt's voice was quiet behind him. Kurt made a protesting noise but was apparently quietened by his father's Look. "We're gonna have enough trouble keepin' Harry out of hot water for missin' school, we can't let you and Finn do it too."

"All right," Kurt mumbled reluctantly, and Harry could hear him shuffling towards the door. "Harry, I'll just be having a shower, my dad can get me if you need me, okay?"

"Okay," Harry's voice was uncomfortably small from where his head was tucked, and he jumped when a large hand landed gently on his shoulder. He curled away from it, then into it, unable to tell if the pressure was calming him or frightening him. He stammered out a mumble when he heard the door closed. "I don't think - I promised Kurt I would get better but - I feel so sick, Burt, so sick and my head hurts so much and this isn't even the worst of it."

"I know, kiddo," Burt soothed him, letting Harry burrow into his side. His strong arm wrapped around Harry's back and stayed there, a firm, comforting pressure. "You're doing great so far. Just focus on feeling better, all right?"

Harry nodded into Burt's chest, content to sit and shiver for the moment. He flinched at a gentle knock on the door, pressing against the mechanic more tightly and gripping the man's shirt. Burt patted him on the back as the door creaked open a little.

"Harry? It's Carole," a soft, warm voice called. Harry relaxed a little, peeking out to check with worried eyes. The woman hovered in the doorway, a tray with a few blurry lumps on it in her arms. When it became clear Harry wasn't overly frightened she slipped in, bumping the door closed with her hip. She made her way over to the bed slowly, carefully, keeping an easy, sympathetic smile on her face.

"I've got you something that should help you feel better, honey," she murmured, coming over to rest the tray next to Harry on the bed. Harry squinted at the tray, noting a bright orange stick and what looked like some toast. Carole picked up the stick and pressed it into Harry's hand gently. "This is a popsicle with electrolytes in it, it should help you feel better after all the throwing up you did last night."

Harry kept a tight grip on the icy stick, bringing it up to his face impulsively and resting it against his forehead.

"Uh, Harry?" Burt sounded confused, and Harry tried to explain himself.

"M'head is hot," he slurred softly, rubbing the Popsicle wrapper over his face. "I feel too hot. S'nice."

"I'll get you an ice pack, just try to eat the Popsicle, okay?" Carole tried to tug Harry's wrist away from his face as she got up, and Harry reluctantly allowed the Popsicle to stop near his mouth. It was almost sickly sweet when he licked at it, but it was cold and didn't make him want to throw up, so he bit off a piece anyway. When Carole came back with an ice pack wrapped in a dish towel a few minutes later Harry had gotten about a quarter of it down. "How's that feel, sweetie?"

"Okay," Harry muttered, reaching for the icepack gratefully. "I just feel so hot."

Carole made a sympathetic noise, and Burt manoeuvred Harry back to the bed. Harry made a quite noise of discomfort as his stomach rolled unpleasantly, but he felt soothed by Burt's rough hand patting his cheek. When Harry's grip slipped on the ice pack the mechanic caught it before it could hit his face, gently resting it on Harry's feverish forehead. Despite the nausea making a reappearance and the fever roaring through him, Harry smiled.

"It feels nice," he murmured, barely aware that he was talking, and less aware of the looks being exchanged over his head. "Bein' taken care of. No one ever really - I've never really been taken care of before."

"Really? Not even-" Carole cut herself off at a look from Burt, but Harry didn't notice. Whether it was the fever or the exhaustion loosening his tongue he'd never know, but he began to mutter brokenly under his breath.

"The Dursleys – they didn't take care o' me. They jus' – they made me take care of them, even when I was really little. I mean, Ron and 'Mione tried, you know, but they're kids too. I never – I didn't think I'd like it but 'snice, having someone care like this. 'slike having family."

Harry didn't hear Carole's little sniffle or feel Burt shift uncomfortably next to him. He just let his eyes slide shut with the popsicle resting on his chin and the ice pack on his head and slipped back into sleep.