We sit and wait for what feels like hours, occasionally making half-hearten attempts at conversation. Finally, at 1900 (equivalent to four am) James pushes open the door. We both stand up and I go over and hug him, but stop when I realize he's covered in blood.

"It's not mine," he says quickly before I can react.

"Whose is it, then?" Alyssa asks, staring at it with wide eyes.

"One of the older Keepers. He tried sneaking out along with Henri," James says. "Let me shower and I'll tell you what's going on."

Twenty minutes later, James and I sit on the couch while Alyssa stays in a chair. James now wears a white shirt and cotton pajama bottoms. He tells us almost everything, that the older Keeper tried to accompany Henri to the door, then slid into the darkness before Henri could figure what was going on. But the next thing he knew, there had been an humanoid shape, then the Keeper had cried out. Henri managed to drag him inside before any more damage could be done.

"Was it an Azeran or a human?" Alyssa asks when he finishes.

"We don't know," James admits grimly. "I'd guess it was human, because any Azeran, under normal circumstances, would know that anyone coming out the facility is a friend, not an enemy. We think the attack was intended for Henri."

I sit in silence, trying to absorb this. Why Henri? He's harmless. He doesn't know anything.

Except that Simon wants me.

"Do you think it has to do with that conversation?" I ask.

"Conversation?" James repeats blankly. Then he understands. "Oh, I don't know. I doubt anyone else knew about it."

"It would make more sense to get to him before he told you or me. Remove the source of information. I don't think the enemy wanted us to know about what they wanted."

"What are you talking about?" Alyssa demands. I ignore her.

James pauses, probably trying to figure out my statement. Then he says, "We can discuss this later, after a good night sleep. Alyssa, do you think you can make it back to your dorm alright?"

"I'd rather not walk in the dark," Alyssa confesses. "I realize it's right there, but..."

"You can stay here then. Callie, do you have any pajamas she can borrow?"

"I have pajama shorts," I say, "but I don't have any shirts."

"What have been using then?" James asks. Then he shakes his head. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

"I've been using one of your shirts," I say. "I need to do laundry."

"Of course you have," James mutters exasperatedly. "Do you have any shirts?"

"Not pajama shirts."

"I give up. I'll lend you a shirt," James says to Alyssa.

"Thank you," she says quietly.

A few minutes later, we all go to bed, Alyssa crashing on a couch in a pair of blue shorts and a cotton shirt of James's. I can't sleep. I quietly sing the lullaby that James used to sing to me when I was a toddler:

Goodnight, sleepy time

It's time for beddy-bye.

And while you sleep, you can play

In a field of dreams

Where the grass is so soft

And flowers are so pretty

Dance through the night

Until the next day

In this field of dreams.

If only the field of dreams existed, where I could dance my troubles away among flowers and soft grass. If only I didn't know that the field of dreams is a clearing in the woods of nightmares, and if I play too close to the edge, I get sucked into the dark forest.

Goodnight, now it's time

For the field of dreams

To forget of yesterday

And sing with the breeze

Watch the sky, covered in stars

And imagine on a cloud

Flying into tomorrow

See the field of dreams go away

If only it was so easy to fall asleep and forget the day, even for a few hours. If only it was so easy to leave behind a world where battles rage and people die every day. But it's so hard to escape this world, because the news of death and war keep everyone awake when they don't want to be.

Goodnight, sleepy time

Return to the field of dreams

Feel the warmth, smell the plants

Of lavender and grass

When you tire of play

Curl up in the middle

Rest your head on the ground

Allow yourself to regain your strength

Right here, in the field of dreams

I wake up every day as tired as when I went to bed, and yet it's so hard to sleep. Some days I just wish I could curl up in a ball and not get up, not until I regain my strength, like in the lullaby. But I'll just stay curled up for days and years, until I had the strength to face the world again. Maybe when the war's over and the world's fixed. Maybe when Baya comes back and makes James truly happy again.

Maybe I do fall asleep quicker than expected, because the next thing I know, James is shaking me awake and saying, "Come on, Callie, it's time to go to sermon."

I nod and push his hand away. "I'm up, I'm up."

He doesn't leave. Instead he sits down on the bed. "I heard you singing the lullaby last night."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, I was just telling you that. That song, your parents used to sing it to you when you were a baby."

"I didn't know that," I say, sitting up. "So they taught you it?"

"No, I heard it and it kind of just stuck in my head."

I nod. "Where's Alyssa?"

"She went back to her dorm to get dressed and ready. And you should, too." With that, James stood and left the room.