Inara tugs him away from the theater glass and through the door to the corridor. The rest of his companions in the observation room have cycled through more than once — it was a long surgery, Hercules doesn't blame them — but Inara has stayed by his side the whole time.

It's hard to breathe and his eyes feel like they're burning, but at least they're dry when he turns to her.

"Do you have appointments tonight?" he asks, his voice a hoarse rasp. "Cancel them, please. I-I think I need to request your company." Request an appointment, he means. He fumbles in his jacket pocket to try and find his wallet, the whole thing shaking when he pulls it out. "I don't know what your fee is but whatever it is, I'll pay it. I just..."

I don't want to be alone tonight.