"Got quiet all of a sudden," Andrew said, sounding surprised. He finally let go of the headboard and flexed his fingers as if working out a cramp. He planted his hands against the mattress and tried pushing himself upright. Halfway there he went still and started laughing again. "Oh, oh, that's unpleasant. I am not a fan of this at all."

Neil could feel Andrew trembling through the sheet, but Andrew's body and mind were operating on two different wavelengths. Andrew's grin was wide and savage as he mocked his own pain. Neil wanted to tell him to hold still, but Andrew finally got himself upright. The sheet threatened to slip off his shoulders, so Neil wrapped it tighter around him. Andrew let him do it with a bemused look on his face. Blood was smeared and half-dried in a line down his cheek to his chin from a gash at his temple.

Andrew saw Neil's glance. "I think I'm concussed. Either that or this is a new side effect of my medication the doctors forgot to warn me about. If I throw up on you it is only half-intentional."

Neil thought he might lose the battle with his own stomach first.

The strangled noise Aaron made was his best attempt at Andrew's name. It was barely intelligible but it was enough. Andrew, who'd barely acknowledged Aaron's existence in the entire time Neil had known them, looked immediately to his brother. Andrew snaked a hand out from under the sheet and curled his fingers in a demand. Aaron clambered onto the bed and reached for Andrew. Andrew tried moving out of his way, but that was finally too much for his stomach. Neil helped push him forward when he started choking.

"Andrew," Aaron said, desperate and frightened. He held onto Andrew like he thought Andrew would disappear if he let go. "Andrew, I didn't—he—"

Andrew spat a couple times and gasped for breath. "Quiet, quiet. Quiet. Look at me," he said, but it took him a while longer before he could sit up and face Aaron again. He pressed a hand to Aaron's bloodied shirt. "It's everywhere. What did he do?"

"It's not mine," Aaron said. "It's not mine, it's—Andrew, he—"

Andrew touched Aaron's temple where he himself was injured as if he expected to find an identical injury there. "Did he touch you?"

"What did he—"

Andrew knotted his fingers in Aaron's hair and yanked to shut him up. "Answer me. I said, did he touch you?"

"No," Aaron said.

"I'm going to kill him," Andrew said.

"He's already dead," Neil said.

"That explains the silence," Andrew said, "but that's not who I meant. Look, we don't even have to go anywhere. He'll come right to us."