Turning off the engine I rested my forehead against the steering wheel in exhaustion; both physical and mental. Even I had to admit to myself that I wasn't as young as I once was and now the things that had once been second nature were increasingly difficult. The number of stairs in the University to my office. I would have to start taking the lift again. I laughed to myself at a past memory and clambered out of the car, my hands rifling in the pockets of my leather jacket for the key.

I found it encased in a five pound note which was a pleasant surprise and both were thrown onto the hall table once I was through the door. I noted that we would have to replace the wallpaper soon as it was much more faded than I remembered it being; odd given there was no window in the hallway. Perhaps my eyes were getting worse too.

"I'm home," I called but heard no reply. I figured Tim must have been out at the library or somewhere similar until I made my way to the living room. He was asleep on the sofa with his cat purring softly against his chest, trying to snuggle deeper into him. She started batting at him with her paw, no doubt wanting fed.

"Hey, don't do that," I said sternly, aware that I was telling of a cat. She glowered at me as her tail swished and when I lifted her from him she struggled and scrabbed at me.

"For god sake," I hissed myself and went to the kitchen to open some food for her but there was already some in her bowl. That cat was as contrary as her master at times. I rolled my eyes when I went back to the living room and found her licking at his hand that dangled off the sofa near the floor.

"Shadow, leave him alone," I sighed and pushed her away. She tried to bite my hand and rubbed herself along the side of the sofa, mewling loudly.

"Tim," I said softly, stroking his cheek to rouse him.

"Tim," I said, louder than before but he didn't stir.

Shaking him gently, I breathed a sigh of relief when he slowly opened his eyes.

"Jesus, Tim. I was having a heart attack here," I laughed nervously.

He turned to look at me but his eyes were unfocused.

"What time is it," he slurred.

"It's nearly six," I replied, stroking his hair away from his face.

"Are you okay," I asked warily.

"Mmm."

"Tim?"

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

He tried to sit up then and I struggled to help him. He was like a dead weight and I sat next to him to support him. He cuddled in close to me.

"Emily killed herself," he whispered to me.

Shit.

"S'my fault, she said. Not now, obviously. She's dead now," he chuckled to himself and then gave a harsh sob.

"I'm tired Ivo, I really am," he said in earnest so I would believe him. He clutched at my jacket and snuggled like the cat against me.

"Should have married her," he laughed darkly, his words still joining together.

"Shouldn't have like it up the ass, yeah? Everything would be fine then."

"Shhh," I soothed. "It's not your fault, I promise it's not. You just have to trust me. You trust me right?"

He nodded into my neck and I could feel on my skin that he was crying.

"It's not your fault," I assured him. I had no sympathy for this Emily person. All I could think of was the effect it would have on Tim. He was the one I cared about, the one I loved.

"She told them I made her pregnant when I slept with her, that she had an abortion," he choked out between hiccoughs. "S'lies. Has to be," he said fearfully.

"It is, it is lies," I agreed, fearful myself. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Then why do I feel guilty?"

I didn't really have an answer for that.

"Because you're a caring person and you want people to be happy. You make it your responsibility even when its not. It was years ago, it's not your fault she was unhappy. We have to make our own happiness in the world," I said soothingly and he seemed calmer.

"Did you take a sleeping tablet?"

He nodded weakly.

"Just didn't want to."

"Didn't want to what?"

"Don't know," he sighed.

"You just took one," I asked urgently.

He gave a sort of shrug that didn't answer me.

"Tim, I need an answer, how many did you take?"

"Two, I think."

"Okay. You should go back to sleep," I told him, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

I helped him to stand and half carried him to the bedroom before depositing him gently on the mattress. He seemed to shrink in on himself until he was curled in a ball among the pillows. I left him there to call a doctor and ask what the best thing to do was and made myself comfortable in bed next to him to watch him should anything change.