[AN: neil's very worried about this stuff.]

It floods through Vyvyan. His eyes snap open and he heaves, water spilling from his mouth and ears. Dripping and he can't pull himself up, doesn't know which direction to go in. Just inhales around the rivulets his hair is creating across his lips.

'Wake up! Wake up!'

Neil's voice is too loud. It's hoarse and worn and sinks into Vyvyan like the chill of water on his skin.

'What,' he gurgles. Neil's large hands grasp at his shoulders and shake him. Vyvyan bats them away with uncoordinated fingers and he tries to clear his head, just long enough to rap his knuckles forcefully against Neil's head.

Neil sniffs and sits abruptly, knees bent up by his chin.

'Sorry,' he murmurs. 'You're awake.'

'I am now.' Vyvyan tries to wipe the wet away with his sleeve, but it sops against his cheek. 'What the hell are you playing at?'

'I thought—' Neil's adam's apple moves jaggedly in his throat, like it might escape. It moves a fast beat in time to his pulse. 'You didn't wake up. I tried, and— and you didn't. You wouldn't wake up.'

'I was tired.' Vyvyan rolls onto his back, hand pressed over his eyes. He feels afloat in disorientation. He feels drowned. 'I had a few lagers last night. It takes me a while to get going in the morning.'

'It's evening. You were still for such a long time.'

Neil's voice follows the same path it always does, level and unobtrusive. An afterthought. A pre-emptive apology laced in the baritone of it.

Vyvyan breathes in the quiet. His ribs ache like they haven't in a while.

'Sorry,' he says before Neil can say it again. It helps to push some of the malice down, keep his true words at bay. He's not sure Neil could take it. He might be fine but Vyvyan has learned to be careful. To not give him the benefit of the doubt.

'Yeah,' Neil says. It's one of those things he does, a puzzle he's worked out long before Vyvyan will. He predicts conversation, or he makes it up. He always follows his own pace, works in his own time.

Vyvyan turns it over in his head until the options drop into place. It's too vague to know for sure, but he guesses. Neil has gone white, hair pulled down over his eyes. The skin over his knuckles strains like it might split. He's scared. Vyvyan scared him.

Vyvyan looks up at the ceiling and counts until he's back in Neil's time.

'I'm not you.'

It has a bitter edge to it, although Vyvyan doesn't mean it. It doesn't always make a difference to Neil. He takes his assurances where they come.

'I know.'

It's new. It's Neil making an effort. To live outside himself.

'I just needed to make sure.'

'Well I'm here, aren't I. I'm awake, and I'm freezing.'

'I'll make you some tea.'

'Yeah.' Vyvyan looks over so Neil can see him, really see him. Neil's eyes tick between his features, cataloguing them all. He smiles weakly, and Vyvyan gives some stale grimace in return. 'You do that.'