Trant greets you normally in the morning when you show up again to take Mikael to school, but you can't help but feel conscious of the tension between the two of you. You're not sure whether to apologise for the things you said yesterday or to wait until Trant brings it up, but you can't discuss it in front of Mikael, so you put it off for now.

On the way to school, Mikael chatters away about his Suzerainty win last night, describing his strategy in a way that suggests he is trying to give you tips for next time. You managed to get only one single victory point, and even that was accidental. Ordinarily you'd be annoyed by this sort of thing, but Mikael is just a kid so you let him brag as much as he likes. You're only half listening anyway.

There is a heavy feeling in your chest as you take the elevator up to the top floor and walk over to knock on Trant's door. He looks tired when he opens the it, but he's dressed today.

"Hey," you say.

Trant gives you a little smile. "Come in," he says.

Neither of you speak as you take off your shoes and jacket, but Trant lurks in the entryway.

"How are you doing?" you ask.

"A little better," he says, then looks away. "Maybe."

You nod.

"And how are you?" he asks, a little awkwardly.

You shrug. "I'm okay."

"Good," he says. He swallows. "After last night, I want you to know things are still okay with us."

You feel embarrassed by how relieved this makes you. "Yeah," you say, trying to hide it.

"I hate to be an awful bore, but I think I'm going to have to lie down again," he says. "You can… join me if you like?"

"Okay," you say, trying to play it cool. There's absolutely nothing boring about Trant inviting you to join him in bed, but if he's going to act so casual about it, you don't wanna embarrass yourself by acting overly eager.

"Did you sleep much last night?" he asks as he leads the way to his bedroom.

"No," you say, and wonder if you misread the situation.

"Then you should get some rest before your shift."

You can't help but feel disappointed, but then you realise how tired you are and sleeping beside Trant becomes a much more attractive prospect. You didn't drink enough last night to end up with a hangover, but your leg hurts from where you ran the razor over it. Rest is probably the best thing you can do right now.

Loosening your tie, you pull it out from under your collar. Then without really thinking about it you strip down to your underwear and undershirt. Trant has already got into bed and when you look at him, he closes his eyes, but you already saw him looking at you. You've never been comfortable with anyone looking at your body. It brings back old memories of other kids staring and taking the piss in changing rooms. You weren't the only one who was left with pox scars at a young age, but that didn't stop them. You get in bed beside Trant before you can start freaking out.

Trant reaches out to touch your arm and kisses you softly on the lips. He looks tired, so you simply return his kiss and close your eyes.

You try to go to sleep, but your heart is beating fast. You realise you probably fucking misinterpreted what he said, but even the idea of Trant coyly inviting you to bed has got you excited. The only thing you can do is lie still and let him sleep.

Trant seems restless and turns over several times.

You open your eyes and see him looking back at you. "You okay?"

"I don't feel very well," he says.

You touch his forehead. He's warm.

"Want me to get you anything?"

"No. I'll be okay."

You curl an arm around him and he shifts a little closer to you. "Want me to distract you?" you breathe.

He smiles, and you take that as an invitation to lean in and kiss him. You kiss each other slowly. Maybe you didn't misinterpret the situation. He strokes your back and lets his hand trail down to your leg. You flinch when he touches the stitches you had to do last night.

"Sorry," he says, breaking the kiss and pulling his hand away.

You take his hand and put it back on your leg. Like this, the pain feels good.

"What happened?" he asks, running his fingers over the stitches again.

You gasp as he touches the tender parts of your flesh. "Cut myself."

"On purpose?"

"Don't judge me," you say, and cover his hand with your own.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Please Trant, just kiss me," you say, and kiss him again. You hold his hand down on your leg as your tongues intertwine. Yes, this feels right. You deserve this. You press his hand down harder and moan at the spike of pain.

Trant pulls away from you. "You want me to hurt you?"

"Please," you say. Oh god, he's going to make you beg. The anticipation is going to kill you.

Trant's eyes flutter and he takes a sharp breath. "I… I don't know how I feel about that."

You feel a hot wave of shame overcome you. Trant isn't Harry. He doesn't know and indulge all your fucked up little fantasies. "Shit," you say. "You think I'm fucked up, don't you?"

"I didn't say that," he says, and blinks a few times. "I just don't understand."

You push yourself up to a sitting position, but Trant grabs your wrist.

"Jean, don't go."

You make a token effort to pull your wrist free, but then let Trant pull you back towards him. Then his lips are on yours, kissing you desperately, possessively. You kiss him back and wrap yourself around him. Trant doesn't need to love all the fucked up parts of you, so long as he can overlook them, that's good enough for you.

Trant ends up on top of you, looking down at you, breathing heavily. The weight of his body holding you down is intoxicating.

"Trant…" you breathe. You can't express how much you love him, how much you want him.

His smile wavers. "I'm sorry. I can't do this," he says.

"Why?" you demand as he climbs off you.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, unable to meet your eyes. "I'm afraid of putting strain on my heart. It's already beating so fast."

"Oh god. Oh fuck. I'm a fucking asshole," you say, covering your face with a hand.

"No, no, you're not. I have thought about this, and I really should have addressed it with you sooner, but-"

"You thought I'd overreact?"

"No, that's not it. It's not an easy thing to discuss at this stage of our relationship. I didn't want you to think I was overly concerned with matters of a sexual nature."

"You mean like I am?" you say with a smirk. And after you say that you wonder, are you?

"I didn't say you were," he says. "I wouldn't say that was entirely your fault." He is still struggling to meet your eyes.

You roll onto your back and look up at the ceiling to avoid having to look at him.

"I apologise, I am usually able to conduct myself with more decorum when courting."

You snort. You can't help it. The idea of you courting anyone is laughable.

"Not that I have any great amount of experience with it. I have however read extensively on the topic, the idea of close human interactions has always held a fascination to me. However my own experiences seem to bear little relation to what is written."

"Was it all that old fashioned Dolorian era shit?"

Trant hesitates. "Ah, well, some of it might have been."

"There you go then." You lie there a moment longer. "Shit, I should go and let you rest."

"No, Jean, stay with me for a while," he says, reaching out for your hand. You wrap your fingers around his, and will your heart to stop pounding. Trant pushing you away is every bit as exhilarating as him pulling you in. Holy shit. Everything he does makes you more and more crazy about him.

It takes some time, but you're finally able to calm down enough to doze on and off, waking periodically to see Trant sleeping beside you, his hand still linked with yours. You feel warm and safe and reasonably happy right now. Your anxieties and concerns threaten to enter your mind, but you quickly push them away. Smiling, you close your eyes again.

The telephone rings, waking you both.

"Leave it," Trant murmurs, snuggling closer to you. You wrap an arm around him and close your eyes, drifting off again when the noise stops.

It seems too soon when Trant wakes you to tell you it's almost time to go and pick up Mikael from school. You reluctantly climb out of bed and get your clothes, and so does he. As you put your shirt back on, you notice him sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with a smile on his face, and you suddenly feel self-conscious again.

You catch his eye accidentally, and he smiles more. "I'm glad you're feeling more comfortable around me," he says, his eyes drifting downwards towards your bare legs.

You feel an odd mixture of excitement and terror at Trant checking you out. You grab your trousers and hurry to put them back on before he can notice the network of scars on them.

Judit is there again at the school gates, and you exchange a nod to each other over the heads of the other parents and guardians. You'll be seeing each other again very soon anyway.

Mikael waves goodbye to his friends and holds a book proudly up to you. "We got to go to the library today and I borrowed a book about dinosaurs!" he tells you.

"That's great," you say as he follows you back to the motor carriage.

"I'm bringing it home because dad is really good at spotting the inacra- inaccu- the bits that are wrong," he tells you.

"Of course he is," you say as you start the engine. "Your dad knows everything."

"My dad says nobody can know everything. He knows a lot but if he doesn't know he'll read about it or ask someone who might know the answer."

"That's a smart thing to do."

"What's your favourite dinosaur?" Mikael asks, running his hands over the cover of the book.

You think about it, and try to remember a name of a dinosaur. None immediately come to mind. "Uh, that angry one with the short arms that likes to eat people."

Mikael laughs. "Dinosaurs were um, ext...extinct before people came to live here," he says. "A lot of people think they lived at the same time as people because there's lots of stories about them doing that. But that's just fiction."

"Oh," you say, and can't help but smile at how much he reminds you of his father at times.

"But I think you mean the T. Rex!"

"Yeah, that's it. Just testing you," you say, hoping this makes you sound knowledgable on the subject.

"I like Spinosaurus! They're the biggest!" he says, moving his arms like a big mouth and making a roar.

You roar back, and the two of you spend the rest of the drive roaring at each other and laughing. Maybe getting along with kids isn't as hard as you imagined.

Mikael starts talking to his father about dinosaurs as soon as arrive home, and continues all the way through dinner, so it takes you a while to realise that Trant has been pretty quiet since you got back. Trant also throws away half of his dinner, which isn't like him.

"Now go and pack your bags and get ready to go back to your mother's," Trant tells Mikael after dinner.

"Aww, do I have to go so soon?"

"I'm afraid so," Trant says, patting him on the shoulder. "Haven't you missed your mum?"

Mikael nods, and goes off to his room.

You help Trant to clear the table and put everything into the dishwasher. Neither of you say anything as you do this. You wonder if he's mad at you for earlier. You shouldn't have let yourself get so caught up in the moment.

When he finally speaks, his voice shakes. "Jean, I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay," you say, a feeling of dread coming over you.

He looks away. "Come and sit down," he says.

You follow him into the living room.

He doesn't immediately sit down, but paces back and forth a few times. "I don't quite know how to tell you this," he says.

You inhale sharply, your mind automatically jumping to the worst conclusions. Would he really break up with you with his son here? Maybe he's realised he's made a mistake and doesn't want to wait any longer.

"Dad, have you seen my colouring book?" Mikael calls from the doorway.

Trant flinches, and looks up. "I don't think it's in here. I'll help you look for it," he says, following his son out of the room.

You sit down on the couch, your heart pounding. Your fate is on hold for now.

When Trant returns to the room, he is with Mikael, his bags packed.

Your services as a chauffeur are needed again. Whatever Trant wanted to say to you will have to wait.

Mikael continues to chatter about dinosaurs on the drive to his mother's. You barely listen, your mind is on other things.

You bump the wheels of the motor carriage on the curb as you pull up outside the large house, and realise you forgot to be overly cautious as Trant asked you. He didn't remind you, and he doesn't comment. Maybe some of your other transgressions make this one meaningless now.

They get out of the MC and Mikael waves to you through the window. You raise a hand and attempt a smile in response.

You watch as they walk up the steps to the house. Mikael's mother opens the door and he runs up and hugs her, then goes inside. Trant stands on the doorstep and talks to her for some time. You wonder what they're talking about. Elise has her arms folded most of the time. They're probably not talking about you, you tell yourself. Why would they? That's a fucking crazy thing to think. But even so, the possibility plagues you.

You check your watch. It's getting late. If Trant doesn't hurry, he won't have much time to talk to you before you have to go to work. Maybe he doesn't need much time. If he wants you out of his life, you don't want to know all the fucking details. All he needs to do is say it, and you'll be gone. You won't beg him for forgiveness. Please don't beg. You'll only humiliate yourself. And not in a good way.

Before Trant turns to leave, something surprising happens. He and his ex-wife hug. It isn't a brief hug. They hold each other for a long moment.

As soon as Trant begins walking down the steps, you turn your head to face forwards, pretending you hadn't been watching. Trant gets back into the MC wordlessly and you drive.

When you stop at a junction, you can't hold it in any longer. "So, you getting back with your ex?" you say, staring straight ahead.

"No!" Trant says, and for a while that's all he says.

You start to regret your words. You wonder if an apology would help. Probably not.

"Why would you even think that, Jean?" Trant says quietly.

"I don't know. Sorry."

"I was explaining to her about what happened to Mikael's arm," he says, his voice wavering. "I've been struggling to hold it together all afternoon. While you were out, I got a telephone call from Dr Gautier about… about…" He sniffles and you realise he is crying.

"Oh, shit!" you say, slamming your palm against the dashboard. You've been so fucking stupid. If you weren't driving you'd be beating your fists against your head. You grab the other steering lever again before you lose control of the MC. "Horse doctor?" is the only thing you can say.

You glance at Trant. He is holding a hand over his mouth and shaking. He meets your eyes. Mercifully, he understands your stupid words, and nods.

"What did he… what did he say?" you ask, trying to get your breathing under control.

"I'll tell you inside," he says, and only then do you realise that you're already driving along Trant's street.

Trant wipes his eyes and follows you into the building. You notice him take several deep breaths in the elevator.

"Sorry. I need to pull myself together," he says.

"It's okay," you say, but it isn't. The way he's acting, you can't imagine it's good news. You fiddle with the buttons on your jacket.

Trant doesn't say anything more until you're both back in his living room.

He takes a shaky breath. "The tests were all negative. Dr Gautier isn't sure what's wrong with me," he says.

"What! Seriously? After all this shit? Where the fuck does he get off telling you that?" you say, throwing your arms up in the air.

Trant sits down and rests his chin on his hand, looking down at the floor.

"So what now? More tests?"

"That's an option," Trant says, but he sounds resigned. "I could find another doctor and have them re-do the tests and give me a second opinion, but there is no guarantee that they would come up with a different answer."

You sit down beside him with a sigh. "But what's your other option?"

Trant avoids your eyes, looking at the wall instead. "Dr Gautier is going to speak to my doctor. He can't prescribe me anything unless I return to Ozonne. Dr Levine isn't an expert, but at least I will get her opinion on the matter. And perhaps some medication, if she agrees."

"Medication for what? I thought you said horse doctor didn't know what's wrong."

He shakes his head. "He has been able to rule out a lot of things, terminal and serious chronic conditions. One of the possibilities he came up with is that I am suffering from a serious, rare infection of the heart and lungs. If that is so, antibiotics may be a suitable treatment."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

Trant shakes his head. "We are hoping that is the case, and I wish I could be more positive, but there is no way of knowing until we try the treatments," he says.

You nod solemnly.

"There is another possibility, however."

"Which is?"

"I could have developed an autoimmune condition."

"And that's bad?"

Trant nods. "We don't know much about those conditions, diagnosis is mostly through a process of elimination. And besides, it is effectively useless to obtain one as the only available treatments are speculative and experimental at best."

"Why would this happen? You're healthy. You don't even have any vices," you say, thinking about how unfair it is that this is happening to Trant. If anything, it should be happening to you. You try to exercise, but otherwise you don't have the energy to take care of your health.

Trant smiles humourlessly. "These things can happen to anyone. Infections can happen if people are exposed to certain things at the wrong time. And we don't know why autoimmune conditions spring up. There are theories, but basically something goes wrong and the immune system begins to attack the body instead of protecting it."

You watch Trant as he speaks. It's as if he's distancing himself from his illness, talking about it in general terms as if it is happening to someone else, far away. You can't really blame him. If it was you, you'd have already turned to alcohol or drugs to make you forget.

"So there's no cure?" you ask.

Trant cringes and swallows, and you realise you shouldn't have asked such a stupid question. "No," he says. "In all likelihood, I will not get better. I will probably get worse."

You reach over and touch his arm. He flinches, and then rests his hand on top of yours. Still, he avoids looking in your direction.

"Let's hope it's not that then," you say.

Trant nods. "I know I'm being ridiculous. I've known all along that it could be something serious and incurable. But now we have narrowed down the possibilities, it seems more real."

"It's fine. I'd think the worst too," you say. "But you know me, I always do."

He looks at you, and attempts a smile. You put an arm around his shoulders and he slides over to lean on you.

"Jean, I'm going to make you late for work," he says after a while.

"Fuck work. I don't care," you say.

"But don't they need you?"

"You're more important to me," you say.

Trant turns around to put his arms around you and rest his head on your chest. "I don't want to be alone, but I can't be so selfish. Go to work, Jean."

It's the night shift. If you don't go in, Judit will have to cover the precinct alone, unless she can get someone else to come in at short notice. And you know what that's like. RCM officers learn to avoid answering the phone at certain hours. Everyone's overworked as it is. You feel a bit bad about Judit being on her own.

You tighten your arms around Trant, you don't want to let go of him. "Will you be okay on your own?"

He nods. "Don't worry about me."

"I can't promise that."

You feel Trant sniffle against your chest. You're not sure how long you both sit there, but when you finally get up you're seriously late for your shift.

"I'll come back in the morning," you say.

Trant nods, his eyes filled with tears. You hug him again before you leave. It physically hurts to leave him like this, knowing he's scared and feels so hopeless and alone. You've always known life is cruel. It was one of the first lessons you ever learnt. But in a way, you've always felt like you deserve to suffer. Trant doesn't. And it fucking kills you to know there's nothing you can do about it.

You park Trant's MC outside the precinct. You're already almost an hour late, but you need a minute to get yourself together before you go inside. But instead tears start falling from your eyes. You scrub the back of your hand across them, but the tears keep falling. Fuck.

Why? Why is this happening to you? You managed to keep it together in front of him, why is this happening now?

You sit there and will yourself to get your shit together, but every time your eyes dry, you think about the way Trant looked, how weak and desolate his voice sounded, and the tears start falling again.

Eventually, you blink the tears away and go inside. Judit will wonder what you're doing. She probably noticed you pull up in the MC some time ago.

Judit is sitting at the communications desk, taking a statement from someone when you walk into the office. After she puts the phone down, she looks up at you and opens her mouth to say something, then appears to think better of it. You must really look like shit.

She gets up, gives you a little smile, then says, "I'm going to make another coffee. Do you want one?"

You nod mutely, then go to sit down and wait for the inevitable questions to start. Where were you? What's wrong? Why won't you tell me, Jean?

Judit touches your shoulder lightly as she puts a cup of coffee down in front of you, then returns to her own seat.

You find yourself saying very little, only speaking when necessary. Judit talks a little about the callers, and the cases you're currently working. Later on when it gets quiet, she talks about her children. You're able to join in a little with some remarks about Mikael. But both of you steer clear of talking about Trant. It is as if she knows somehow that the mere mention of his name would break you. And you're so grateful to her for that.