She never rested easily these days.  The others didn’t seem to notice or, more likely, wouldn’t let themselves acknowledge the darkening circles under her eyes, the expression of grief that pulled her features into a constant frown.  He marked them, though, fretted over them, agonizing over secrets told in a moment of weakness.  Secrets he wished he didn’t know but couldn’t forget.

From her windowsill he watched her sleeping fitfully and hummed old childhood lullabies, attempting to chase the world away.  The methods were different now, but the intention was the same:  every night he still tried to save her.