And then he shifted and had a shape, and his sense of timing kicked in, and he noticed that it matched the timing of his clicking dream self. He followed the tick of the timing and in time it calibrated itself to the waking world of images and interactions. He had no images yet, so he opened his eyes and saw nothing - but a lighter, airier nothing than earlier with a few vague lines running through it. He found his neural pathways and acknowledged that they led to places within his shape. He acknowledged a few and determined the dimensions of his face and his head resting on the bed. He followed a few more, followed them down to where his breath went, and discovered his lungs and diaphragm and the outlines that surrounded them. He found a small pressure upon his chest and thus located his hands. He knew that by reaching his left hand outward, he would touch Zephyr... he used his people sense to locate Zephyr, and when he had succeeded, he could hear Zephyr breathing and feel Zephyr moving. He knew that by reaching his right hand outward, he would touch the dresser, and his glasses were on the dresser, and he thought that was a good start. The Other Voice provided him with a map and he reached through the map with his right hand... his fingertips located his glasses and he brought them nearer to him, unfolded them, and put them on. Now the images would come.

Reginald looked at Zephyr. Zephyr was still asleep. Zephyr's chin had fuzzy stubble and Zephyr's straw-brown strands of hair laid in wavy tangles over his face. Reginald reached over and moved Zephyr's hair so that when Zephyr woke up, he'd see the room instead of just his hair.

The clock on Reg's dresser read 6:57:12. Reginald took note and matched the numbers to his sense of timing - his timing never faltered, but sleep erased the numbers - and then the Other Voice reminded him that in less than three minutes, the clock on Zephyr's nightstand (which read 6:57 but didn't keep track of seconds) would make the alarm noise. Reginald didn't particularly like the alarm noise, but he minded it less when he expected it like he did now. When the alarm noise occurred, Zephyr would move around more than he did now. But Zephyr didn't always get out of bed immediately following the noise. Sometimes Zephyr needed Reg's help.

Reg stayed where he was and got ready to help Zephyr.

****

The alarm went off, but it probably wouldn't have woken Zephyr up by itself. Something in him insisted on blocking out his awareness of the outside world and gave a good effort at yanking him back into unconsciousness.

However, it was no match for Reg.

Zephyr sat up, but he felt as if his head were trying to drag him back down. No, it was those places behind his eyes, somewhere well into his skull... it was heavy and it weighed him down. He couldn't stay upright. So he didn't. Reg's attempt to physically push him back up only succeeded in making him groan in protest. And wish that someone would shut off that damn, ear-splitting alarm.

"Sick?" Reg spoke from somewhere very close to one of Zephyr's ears.

Oh... yes, that was it. Those spots behind his eyes now hurt, in that way that sinuses hurt. Oh, no, he was sick. Well, maybe it was just a cold, one of those things that faded into something bearable once he was up and about. A nice hot shower would help, and after that he'd throw together some breakfast and feel a lot better.

"Sick?" Reg asked again.

"Yeah, I think I'm sick."

There was a pause before Reg said, with an edge of doubt in his voice, "Go to work?"

"Yeah, we..." Zephyr forced himself to draw enough energy to finish the thought. "...should go to work. I'll be fine."

Reg got up. Zephyr heard him shuffling around the bedroom and then opening the door and leaving. He finally scraped up the energy to stretch over to the right and hit the off button on the alarm clock. The next challenge would be to sit up, and after that he'd get to perform the enormous feat of standing up. He...

Hmm.

He glanced at the clock again. It read 7:34. By the time it hit 7:36, it finally dawned on Zephyr that he was late. And from the sound of it, Reg was still in the shower. He must have been in there for the past half-hour, Zephyr realized as, intending to rescue him, he leaped up and...

...Well, it was almost a leap. Luckily he hadn't gotten enough momentum to actually leave the bed, or else he might have been picking himself off the floor about now. He took his time the rest of the way, and when he got to the bathroom, he discovered that Reg had remembered to get out of the shower after all. Zephyr shut the water off, grudgingly gave up his plans for a hot shower of his own (the cold water was probably what had propelled Reg out in the first place), and rushed through the rest of the morning routine in a groggy haze.

By then they were even later. Zephyr called the office and informed Mariluz and then set his sights on breakfast. Reg wanted oatmeal, but he took one look at the goopy stuff and realized he couldn't stomach it at the moment. Oh well, maybe he'd eat some crackers when they got to work.

"Sick," said Reg.

"I'm all right," Zephyr reassured him.

But he felt just short of all right. He managed to get into the car, but he didn't even have enough energy to be anxious while Reg was driving. He closed his eyes, and instead of being stressed out by the bumps and turns of the car, he actually found them strangely soothing. He felt warm... oppressingly, heavily, numbingly warm.

He felt something fall on his shoulder. "Zephyr, are you all right?" he heard a strange, garbled voice call out. "Wake up, Zeph!"

Then he heard what eventually dawned on him was Connor, from somewhere out there in the faraway darkness. "What's wrong with him? You want me to call the ambulance or anything?"

"I'm all right," Zephyr insisted, although there was a pain in his gut that told him he was definitely not all right.

"Oh," said Connor. "Good. I'll, um, just see if Reg needs..." Connor's voice faded away, and Zephyr wondered what he was doing. And Reg. What was Reg doing...

Then there was Oscar, and then there was Marsh, and before he knew it he was standing up with an arm around the shoulders of each man. Once inside, consciousness finally began to cooperate with him. He insisted on going to his office, and Oscar and Marsh insisted on taking him there.


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