Marx came to lying on a couch with a wet washcloth on his forehead. He was covered in bruises and there was a tiny cut on his arm. He groaned, keeping his eyes shut. His mind was foggy and he wasn't sure where he was.

"You awake?" Tamara said, somewhere to his left. A gentle hand touched his shoulder.

"Bug off, I'm sleeping..." He murmured, swatting at the hand. He was only half-awake still and feeling too miserable to want to fully wake up. His eyes still felt like they were burning like they were last night.

"Yep, awake." Tamara said more loudly, pulling the washcloth off of his forehead and shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, idiot, you had us worried." She said, not rudely but not kindly either. Marx groaned again and the burning feeling in his eyes faded. He opened them to see daylight streaming through the windows and Tamara leaning over him, about to dump out the bowl of water she had been wetting the washcloth in on his forehead.

"What happened?" He said, sitting up dizzily and swatting Tamara's hand away yet again. "You were sleepwalking and fell down the stairs. You nearly gave my mom and dad a heart attack. They thought you had cracked your head open or something." Tamara yawned, bags under her eyes. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah... Just sore. Thanks for worrying about me." He rubbed his face with his hand. Suddenly, yesterday's events came rushing back to him and he jumped to his feet. He swayed, the blood rushing out of his head, and Tamara had to help him stay upright.

"Calm down or you'll hurt yourself again." She snapped, grumpy like she always was when she didn't get enough sleep. Marx let his brain catch up a little. He took a few moments to calm his frazzled mind and push down the bad memories from yesterday. "Don't we have school today, though...?" Marx shook his head to wake himself up and walked over to the clock. 8:45.

"We're missing school...?" He murmured again, confused, half asleep, and still dazed.

"No, we get a day off. Some teacher thing." Tamara explained. "Probably a good thing, huh? You don't seem fit to go to school, and I hardly slept. Anyways, we're taking you to see your mom today."

Marx felt sick all over again.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" He said quietly. "Do you think she'll ever be the same again?"

Tamara's eyes, bloodshot from lack of sleep, softened. She walked over to Marx and hugged him. "Hey, it'll be ok, don't you worry. I promise..." She put her face in his shoulder and sniffed. She loved his mom almost as much as he did. "You know what, I bet by the time you turn fourteen she'll be better. She'll be back to embarrassing us in public and making cocoa and telling you she loves you so many times a day that it drives you up the wall-"

Tamara broke off and began crying. "Oh God, I just want her to be better," She wailed. Marx tried to calm her down, but felt his own eyes fill up and sadness threaten to overwhelm him. "Hey, it's just like you said, right? Before seven days are gone, she'll be back to her normal self, just you watch..." He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

Marx didn't believe himself.

Tamara didn't believe him, either.