Milo's resolve was weakening. The nigh stretched on and his eyes and and head started hurting. He thought about just going up to bed. Surely it would be better than this kind of torture but every time he started to drift to sleep he'd jerk awake. The fear that filled him was overwhelming with each slip of his eyes.<br/><br/>Red eyes and blood- red, red, red, was all he saw every time he tried to sleep. Why did these dreams haunt him now? He thought he was getting better. Milo thought he was moving on but now it became clear as day that he'd just buried everything. Swept it under the rug and cleaned his hands of it as if there wasn't a lump that tripped him up every time he tried to step on it.<br/><br/>He became increasingly concerned as he watched Zahir struggle. He fought and fought and Milo knew fighting wouldn't be enough but he couldn't find it in his heart to push him to drink. To give in before his body punished him. Finally, when Aries tugged on his shirt Milo looked at him, understanding without words that now was the time.<br/><br/>"Aries?"<br/><br/>Milo could smell the fear. "Hey, it's okay." He said, holding out an arm and offering it to him. Milo was relieved but the moment was bittersweet. Maybe he'd finally be able to get relief. His hands were trembling without even realizing it and it wasn't it because he feared Aries might hurt him or take too much. He was afraid that even when he went to sleep with the chemicals in his blood and the loss making his head dizzy that he would be trapped then. He wouldnt be able to wake up, Milo would have to live through it.<br/><br/>"It'll be okay." He whispered, letting his head lull against the beck of the couch.