AN: I promise I will get back to an actual plot next chapter. And maybe this story will actually end soon, who knows? (Not me).

Davey hadn't slept in days. He didn't know exactly how long, but it was longer than was preferable for any functioning person to go without sleep. The issue was, he didn't tell anyone. If he told his mother, she'd probably force a bowl of warm soup on him and insist that he go to bed absurdly early. And he didn't even want to think about telling Les. His brother was having enough issues dealing with the Refuge without knowing that Davey wasn't sleeping.

He hadn't seen Jack or the other boys since they'd gotten the Refuge shut down. He'd wanted to go back to selling, but his folks insisted he wasn't well enough yet. How they had managed to not be evicted from their building since their children had gotten arrested was beyond him, but he knew better than to argue.

Davey tried to just go around conducting business as usual, though he didn't know what that was if he wasn't in school or working. It wasn't like his memories of the Refuge would stay with him forever, after all. It would subside and then he wouldn't be afraid of sleep every night anymore.

"David?"

He jerked up and realized that he must have let himself slip at the dinner table. His family was staring at him.

"Oh. Sorry, I'm just tired, I guess."

"You haven't done anything all day." His father pointed out, and Davey fell silent, not having an answer for that.

"Are you okay?"

Davey turned to his left to see his younger brother watching him with a look of fear, which made sense - it wasn't as though he made a habit of falling asleep at the table.

"Yeah, I'm fine Les. I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Everything was making Les panic lately, and that was worrying everyone. Which was exactly why Davey was keeping his problems under wraps. Not sleeping wasn't near as big of a deal as his brother's paranoia, or the searing nightmares Jack and Crutchie were sure to be having.

"David..." He recognized his mother's concerned tone, and he stopped her.

"I'm fine, Ma." He lied convincingly. "I'm just still a little sore." That was another lie - his entire body hurt, but his folks couldn't afford a doctor, and his injuries could heal by themselves.

"Alright."

And that was the end of the conversation. And business went on as usual.