He resists as long as he can. The movie gives him something to focus on, which helps keep him awake, but he can't converse with a movie. And leaning against each other like this, he can tell Cullen's starting to relax. Talking to him -- interrupting the movie, saying something that gets tangled up and awful by the time it reaches his mouth, making this whole Maker-damned situation worse than it is -- will smash the fragile peace that's forming.

Alistair's not inclined toward prayer. But were he from a different time and place, something about atheists and foxholes might come to mind.

No more dreams, he says, silently. Please. Keep them clear of me.

You know I don't ask much. Let me ask for this.

When his eyes drift shut for the third or fourth time, he stops fighting it.