For once, Brennan was too tired to dream. He hit the pillow and crashed, waking in short bursts to the sound of sirens or a sudden sense of cold. Neither one bothered him longer than it took to roll himself tighter in his nest of blankets, and he slipped back into deep, exhausted sleep, until sometime in the morning.
Dimly, Brennan became aware of the sound of rain against the window, and a soft, cloudy late that promised that the morning was well past the time he could still consider it night. But there was no school today, and if any day deserved a sleeping-in, this felt like a good one. He yanked the corner of his blanket over his face to search out more sleep.
An ice-cold hand touched his cheek.