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They stared at each other. The silence increased, felt uncomfortable.
Finally Elliot took a shambling, limping step forward. "I came down to thank you for saving my life."
"I'm a doctor."
He took another step, and looked up at Ian. "Why did you do it?"
Ian took a sip of coffee before answering. "I didn't
want to."
"I don't suppose you did."
Ian took another long drink of his coffee, peering at Elliot over the gilt-edged rim of his cup. "There's a long answer, but I won't bore you with it. The short answer is, I saved you because she wanted me to."
"But you knew that if I lived-"
"I knew." Ian set down his cup of coffee and moved toward Elliot, searching the old man's face, trying to find .. . Hell, he didn't know what he was searching for, what he could find that could make a difference. Go to him, Agnes. The words of the vision came back to Ian suddenly and he wondered what they meant. "She says you are a good man," he said softly.
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Elliot released his breath in a heavy sigh. "I wish that were true."
Ian stared deep into the man's eyes and slowly put out his hand.
Elliot didn't look away as he reached out, clasped Ian's hand in his. "Thank you again for saving my life, Ian."
Ian winced. His hand caught fire, the headache burst behind his eyes. Images rammed into his mind with the force of a blow. Selena standing in a room full of people, separated and alone . .. a closed door, a single bed . . . And the thoughts: She loves you, Ian, and I love her.
Ian yanked his hand back. For a second he felt nauseated by the headache, and then gradually it passed. He tried to smile at Elliot, but couldn't quite manage it. "Did Selena tell you about my .. . gift?"
"No."
It hurt, that simple little denial. He wanted somehow to be the focal point of their conversation, wanted his name to batter Elliot's consciousness the way Elliot's battered his.
Again the silence fell, awkward, heavy.
Finally Elliot spoke. "I guess we'll leave tomorrow."
Ian flinched at the unexpected words. No, he thought. No. I'm not ready. . ..
But he'd never be ready, and besides, his feelings didn't matter at all.
"Tomorrow," he said dully, wishing there were something he could say, some way to change what couldn't be changed.
Elliot looked up, snagged Ian's gaze for a second, then looked away quickly. "I think I'll go rest again."
"Could you . . . bring her back sometime?" The words were out before Ian could stop them. He looked at Elliot's pale, frozen face and knew that he shouldn't have spoken, shouldn't have asked the pathetic question.
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"I don't think I could."
Ian wished he had the strength to nod. To shore up and act like a man even though his insides were dissolving. But he didn't. It took everything he had inside him to just stand still and not scream. At last he said all that he could say, and it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. "Be good to her."
Elliot nodded in response, and then he left the room.
Selena checked in on Elliot around one o'clock and found that he was still sleeping. She pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and left him. Back in her own room, she stripped out of her soggy woolen dress and stockings and re-dressed in a pair of Andrew's black woolen pants and white linen shirt. She was just about to go see Ian when someone knocked on her door.
