Sick. That piece of the puzzle clicks painfully into place, and he can't help the conclusion that races into his mind, because what the fuck else could sick mean if it involves sleeping and freaking Jesse out? The hand at his eyes slips down to cover his mouth, and he just -- he needs a second to breathe. He might be wrong. But it sounds likely -- he gets sick, and Jesse can't deal with it.

"Oh, god," Galen breathes, dropping his head a little, hand coming up against his forehead. This time, his eyes actually are stinging, and he's trying to keep it in, but this is everything he's ever been afraid of. "Oh, fuck."