The sun had barely been up for half an hour early the next morning. Reagan had been dozing off, when Oliver's moans woke her back up. She lurched off the sofa and was kneeling next to him within seconds, shaking the sleep from her mind. "Oliver." she placed the back of her hand against his face. He didn't have a fever. Do Warlocks even get fevers?

His eyes squinted open slightly. "Oliver." she said again as he reached up to cover his face from the light. Reagan grabbed the universal remote, pressed a button and the blinds drifted down blanketing the apartment in shadows.

He exhaled sharply, wincing when he twisted to roll over, immediately giving up and settling into his original position on his back once more.

"Don't try to move." Reagan placed her hand against his arm in an effort to get him to relax. "You've got some pretty nasty injuries."

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut again. He reached up, grazing the gauze on his head with his fingers. Reagan noted the burns on his hands had almost completely healed. Must be a Warlock thing. "What happened?"

He inhaled deeply and then stopped himself when expanding his lungs stretched out the burn on his side. She heard him grunt a little as he closed his eyes against the pain. "You blinked into my apartment on top of my coffee table, and then passed out in a gory mess on the floor. I had to cut you out of your clothes and bandage you up."

His hand left the cut on his head and reached down for her hand. She hadn't realized she had been tracing a line back and forth on his skin along the edge of the wrap on his chest in worry. He stilled her fingers but didn't push her away. Just held her hand to him, keeping her still. He must have sensed her nervousness. He rolled his head to the side opening his eyes to look at her.

"You cut my clothes off." A little too please with himself. His voice was a little dry from nonuse but she still managed to blush. He grinned crookedly at her. It was weak, but still a grin.

"Perve. I didn't cut them all off." She poked him gently through his fingers, he hadn't let go of her hand and they were resting on his chest. "It looks like you heal fast but the curse that missed you left a pretty bad burn. That might take longer."

"Thank you." He said.

"Don't mention it. That's what anyone would do if a third century Warlock nearly died in their living room." She teased. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you up in a few hours."

He almost nodded but was out before he could finish. She smiled and sat there for a few minutes before carefully pulling her hand free and checking his bandages. The gash on his forehead had closed. There was a thick scab already beginning to flake. The cut on his shin was growing new skin so she left the gauze off of both of those. At that rate they'd be gone by this afternoon. The burn, however, wasn't healing as quickly. It had barely changed. She cleaned around it and applied more of the salve before rewrapping it. She curled up on the couch as before and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Three short hours later Reagan was woken up again by the sound of movement. Wednesday was sitting on the coffee table watching Oliver offended by his presence. The disdain was clear in her bright green eyes as the cat glared down her nose at him, tail twitching.

Reagan got the impression she was going to get the silent treatment for a while when the cat stuck her nose up into the air and turned her back to Reagan. She watched four little black paws stomp across the table and then jump over the side. She assumed the cat continued stomping down the hall and into the bedroom.

"I don't think your cat likes me." Oliver mumbled.

She laughed softly. "Wednesday doesn't like anyone. Not even me most of the time." She sat up stretching her spine out. "How are you feeling?"

He managed to shift his weight and turn onto his side this time only grimacing a little. "Better."

"Good." Reagan walked into the kitchen. She was glad she had been wearing her silk shorts and cami set when Oliver made his appearance. She could almost feel him watching her and as far as most of her pajamas went this wasn't the most embarrassing. She started making breakfast, nothing fancy just eggs and toast. He would need the carbs and protein. Warlocks still had human afflictions.

He didn't stop her. He was too weak to get up off the couch and if he was hurt enough to have passed out than she was right before, he had nearly died. It would take a lot to harm someone as powerful as he is, let alone render him unconscious and incapable of healing himself.

She brought the plate into the living room and a glass of water. She set it down on the edge next to Oliver and took a piece of toast off the pile. It was apparently a community plate when she took a bite out of it. Oliver grabbed the fork and scooped a large pile of eggs into his mouth.

They ate in silence for a while. It took her a minute to notice he had turned the water into milk. Her eyebrows raised in surprise as he drank the last half of it all at once. She shook her head at him. Warlocks were the only beings that could summon magic like that. Witches had to chant or cast something. Warlocks could just think something and poof.

Reagan only ate two pieces of toast and popped in a small chunk of egg. Oliver ate the entire plate of eggs and nearly a dozen slices of toast. The milk refilled itself until he swallowed the last gulp of the fourth one. When the plate was empty she set it on the far end of the table.

"That's a good sign, your appetite is back. Let me check your ribs." She placed her hand over the bindings were the burn would have been. "It's warm." She pulled her hand back. "Means the salve is pulling the essence out of the wound."

She stared at Oliver for a minute. "What happened? That had to have been a serious curse. Someone tried to kill you." She watched him close his eyes briefly.

"They turned on each other. Reagan." He looked up at the ceiling focusing on anything but her. "Just like you said. We called a council meeting; everyone in the Circle was required to attend. We argued for days; everyone trying to come up with answers. The arguments turned into accusations and then everyone was screaming over everyone else. I don't know when the curses started flying but before it could be stopped everything was out of control. I don't know how many are dead. I barely got out of there alive." He looked so lost.

Reagan was careful not to put her full weight on him as she lay across him resting her head under his chin, trying to give him as much comfort as she could. Mindful of his burn she tucked her arm against her side and spread her palm out on his chest. His arms came up around her.

"Peter, another member and I tried to intervene. We did everything we could to stop the fighting. Some Warlocks managed to escape but we didn't know who was throwing curses. Peter took a hit, it wouldn't kill him but I had to push him to get him out of the gate so he could get to help. That's when the curse glanced past me; I think they were aiming for Peter. It must have missed him and rebounding. I had just pushed him towards the gate and turned to go help others when it missed me and hit another Warlock. I don't know who it was but he died instantly. The curse struck him and he collapsed."

She could feel him tense up against the grief. The horror of watching them kill each other, defending himself against his own Circle. She felt a tear roll down her cheek. Before she could stop it it dropped onto his chest. She felt his hand slide up her back and over her shoulder. He lifted her chin so he could look down at her face. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw the wet trail left behind confirming his suspicions. His thumb reached up and traced it down her face. He pulled her towards him and kissed her.

At first it was tender, hesitant and then it deepened. She bowed forward as his fingers knotted into her hair. Her lips parted and she lost herself in the kiss. They were both brought back to reality when he leaned into her and a sharp pain laced across his ribs. He took a sharp breath through his teeth.

When the pain subsided Oliver realized he still had his hands fisted in Reagan's hair. He opened his eyes, her face inches from his. She was biting down on her lip in concern. He released her hair but kept his hand cupping the side of her head to prevent her from pulling away from him. "Give me a minute. I haven't finished kissing you."

Her cheeks warmed but she cocked an eyebrow at him. "If you continue you're going to end up hurting yourself even more." She kissed him softly and then sat up. "What you need is to rest."

He had to agree, he was already feeling winded
from kissing her. "Stay. Please."

"This is my apartment." She smiled down at him. "If anyone is leaving it's you." She teased. Using sarcasm when she was uncomfortable was a defensive mechanism.

"No, I mean stay here on the sofa with me." His arm was still around her so he gently nudged her towards him. It was feeble but she got the idea. He carefully shifted his weight to the back of the couch to give her a little more room. She rolled forward stretching herself out along the length of him, using the crook of his arm as a pillow. He pulled her hand up, clenching it in his on his chest once more. It didn't take long before she felt his hand relax as he drifted back to sleep.

They spent the rest of the day asleep like that. Oliver woke up when the sky was beginning to darken. Reagan was still asleep, her body pressed up against him. She had pulled her knee up in her sleep and it was now draped across his hip.

He gently ran his hand up and down her leg. He turned his head to kiss the top of her hair. He laid there letting her sleep. She had gotten any the night before while she nursed him back to health so he didn't want to wake her. This felt nice. He didn't realize he craved companionship until she was sitting so close to him. No, not companionship, Reagan. He wanted her next to him.

She must have sensed he was conscious because it wasn't long after that she became restless. He felt her hum against his ribs and the flutter of her eyelashes tickled his skin. She reached up to stifle a yawn and then nuzzled back into him. Her hand coming to rest uncomfortably close to his nipple. In response to his thoughts, he felt the familiar tingling as the sensitive flesh tightened. The blood rushing to other parts of his body.

He felt her smile and then the soft press of her lips along his ribs. She knew, in that cosmic feminine intuition kind of way, exactly what he was thinking. She pinched his nipple between her thumb and finger and tugged. "Behave." She whispered against his flesh.

"It's a little difficult when you do that." He voice came out husky. She lifted her head slightly to look up at his face and twitched her nose at him. She glanced down at the wrap over the burn, it was stained. She reached over him to place her hand over the injury. It wasn't as warm anymore. She sat up, planting her feet back on the floor so she could twist around and get a better angle.

"Let me take the bandages off." She supported his weight so he could situate himself better as she unwrapped the dressing. The gauze underneath was stained completely. He hissed when she had to carefully peel it off the burn as gently as she could.

"It's doesn't look infected anymore. But the burn is going to have to dry out. You'll have to be careful not to bump it. I don't think it should take long now that it's just a burn. I think all of the essence has been pulled from the wound but I don't really know anything about this kind of injury." She looked up to check on his head. All that was left was an angry pink line she suspected would be gone soon. She pushed the blanket aside and was happy to note his shin was completely healed. "You'll be good as new in a few hours, I hope."

Oliver smiled back at her. "Are you hungry? Because I am ravenous."

"I could eat."