Sam wakes with a start, sits up, and looks around. He's in the surprisingly decent roadside hotel he, John, and Six had stopped at last night. Six got a room next to the boys', with an attaching door. John is in the double bed next to him, also awake. He reaches into a drawer in the bedside table—the clock reads two-thirty a.m.—and pulls out a dagger. He then slips silently out of the bed and approached the door cautiously.
Sam recognizes the sound then: the opening and closing of a door, coming from Six's room. He gestures at John to get his attention.
They enter Six's room together, slowly, carefully. Her blankets are in a tangle at the end of the bed, and Six is gone. There's no sign of a struggle. John lights his hands, filling the room with a subtle glow. They split up and scan the room. Sam is checking the dresser when John's lights pass over a huddled, Six-sized shape on the balcony. That must have been the door they had heard.
Relaxing, John opens the door to the balcony and approaches Six. He speaks to her softly, but she just shakes her head and mutters, "I'm fine, Four. Leave me alone." Her voice cracks on the last word, but John retreats anyway. Not Sam, though. He brushes past John and goes to sit beside Six. Her shoulders are hunched defensively, and her legs dangle over the edge of the balcony between the bars of the safety rail.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I said I'm fine." she retorts. "Go away, Sam. I don't want to talk to you!"
"Not until you tell me what the hell is wrong!"
"Damn you, Sam!" she snaps, but her voice breaks again, and he can hear her… crying?
Sam realizes then, as the tears run down her cheeks, that despite her inhuman powers, despite her beauty, her strength and incredible talents as a warrior, despite her sharp wit and I-fear-nothing personality—for she has all those things—that Six is not invincible. He reaches over and pulls her into his arms. She resists at first, then buries her head in his chest and sobs openly.
"What's wrong, Six?" he asks, more softly this time. He cups her face in his hands and kisses her forehead, a brush of lips on skin. "What happened?"
She shakes her head and presses it head harder against him, soaking his shirt. "I killed you," she wails.
"What do you mean? I'm right here!"
Again, Six shakes her head. "You were in the woods somewhere," she says, "And the M-Mogadorians were chasing you." Her voice is trembling and breaking, and Sam realizes that Six is recounting a nightmare. "They caught up to you in a-a clearing, and then one of them pinned you down, and then—" she chokes on another sob, and then abruptly stops crying. "They had their swords with them," she says in a hoarse whisper. "They were cutting you, and-and laughing. And I was just standing there, watching, not doing anything."
Six turns her head and meets his eyes. "One of them gave me a dagger, and I walked up to you, and stood over you. You were a mess, and there was bl-blood all over you. And you know what you said, right before I stabbed you? You said you were sorry. You freaking apologized, and then I killed you. I saw your eyes go dead."
Her eyes turn hard, and Sam doesn't know what to do. So he sits there in the dark, holding her tightly. She starts to cry again, and Sam can't help but feel an intense sense of wrongness. This is Six, for Lorien's sake! She was the strong one, the anchor. His body rebells at seeing her so helpless, so broken. And then he finds himself kissing her, on the mouth this time, and she's kissing him back, and he can taste the salt from her tears on her lips. He tips his head up a bit, to kiss her eyelids. "I'm so sorry," she murmurs, an Sam pulls away to look her in the eyes.
"Hey," he says. "It was just a dream. Don't worry; I'm still here. You're not getting rid of me that easily." She smiles halfheartedly at the last bit, and Sam grins. "That's more like it," he says. He shifts her so she's sitting crosswise on his lap, and Six leans in to kiss him, long and sweet.
He presses a kiss to the top of her head. "It's going to be all right," he murmurs into her hair, and for a moment, snuggled into this human's arms, she can honestly believe him.