It was a test or a trick, he wasn't sure which but he didn't do anything but tighten his grip around himself. He licked the blood from his split lip and wondered why nothing was healing any more. Every hit that got dished out lately left marks and bruises. Every part of him ached and he really wanted to go back to sleep. Not that he would. Or could.

It seemed more trouble than it was worth. He just tried his best to turn his mind off. He couldn't think. If he thoughts, if he wanted, if he wished - he was a dead man.