Silent Hill and all its characters belong to Konami, not to me. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

The original prompt was "So Cold" by Breaking Benjamin, but I borrowed the title from Melissa Etheridge.

You Can Sleep While I Drive

Douglas looked over at Heather where she sat in the passenger seat with her arms wrapped around herself. She had told her story, and he was still trying to understand it. He wanted to ask if she was all right but that would be stupid because she obviously wasn't. How much could one person lose in half a day? More than Douglas had realized, and he had seen plenty.

"Are you cold?" he asked finally. "The heater doesn't work too well. I'm sorry about that."

"It's OK," she said, still staring out the windshield.

"We could stop for some coffee," he offered.

"Dad always said I was too young for coffee."

Heather gave a sarcastic little laugh after she said it and Douglas had to hold back from joining in.

"I almost don't feel right, driving you to Silent Hill. That place is... it's what I said. A wrong place."

"You think I didn't figure that out yet after all this?"

"I just mean, if something happens to you--"

"It's too late for you to worry about me."

He wanted to tell her that not all of this was his fault, but she knew that too. After all, he hadn't killed her father or even known what Claudia really wanted. Yet he was still mixed up enough in it to feel guilty.

"I'd have gone without you anyway," she reminded him.

"I know."

"This morning I was normal," she said. "Well, no, there were the dreams, and I knew they weren't the nightmares other people have. But I was something like normal, and I had my dad, and school."

"And your friends?"

"Yeah, I had some friends. Sometimes, at least. But nobody's going to wonder where I am."

That echoed his earlier thoughts so well that it made Douglas sad. "And you wish you had that back?" he said. "Being a regular teenager?"

"I wish I had my childhood back," she said. "My dad reading me stories and not having to worry about anything, not even growing up."

"None of us can do that," said Douglas, feeling a little heartless as he said it.

Heather made a sound then and he wondered if she could be crying. He couldn't really tell, squinting at her in the darkness of the car. But it was natural; she was only human. After considering for a moment, he pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned off the ignition. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you crying?"

"No," she said, but he could hear the tears in her voice though he couldn't see them.

Hesitantly, he reached for her, and after a moment she leaned in and put her head on his shoulder. "I'm still not crying," she said as he put his arms around her.

"I know," he replied.

"She's just a little girl who needs a father," he thought to himself, though having her pressed up against him like this reminded him a little uncomfortably that she wasn't a little girl and he wasn't her father. But he pushed that thought away and just held her while her shoulders shook and she didn't cry.

"I'll help you," he said, because he couldn't tell her everything would be all right.

"I'm pretty sure I have to do this by myself," she said. "And I can."

"Yeah," he said, stroking her hair. "You can." He believed it, too, after everything he had seen. But he wasn't sure enough to want to let go of her and keep taking her to Silent Hill.

But eventually she pulled away. "We should keep going. I wish I knew how to drive, so you could get some rest."

"It's OK," he said gently as he started the car again. "You can sleep while I drive."