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John didn’t know where he was, but the place made his skin prickle, a feeling of wrongness burrowing into his veins. Everything was bright white, and a sharp, biting antiseptic smell filled the hall. There were doors lining the hallway, each one with a name plate that practically blended in with the door.
He was missing something. John knew he was there for a reason, something important, something that he desperately needed back. He was looking for something…no. Someone.
On edge, John headed down the hallway, a sense of foreboding welling in his chest. The name plates were all blank, and there weren’t any windows. The hall went on as far as he could see, and each door was identical. Who was he missing? Where was he? He had to find them—
A scream born from pain ripped through the hall, piercing his ears as it grew in volume. He clapped his hands over his ears and winced, his heart racing as he recognized that voice.
“Clarice!”
Where was it coming from, where was she? He lowered his hands and focused, trying to hone in on her position. But it was as if his powers were cut off. He couldn’t pinpoint her, couldn’t locate her even though she was still screaming. John’s heart pounded as he spun one way and then the other, unsure of which way to go. It seemed like the screams were coming from every direction at once.
He couldn’t stand this. He took off down the hall, fear and rage battling for top priority. It sounded like someone was killing Clarice slowly, and he couldn’t take it.
“Clarice!” he shouted, willing her to answer him. The screams faded into sobs and then words.
“Please don’t touch them, please,” Clarice’s voice pleaded, “Don’t hurt them…Leave them alone!”
John whirled around, panic rising like acid in his throat. It sounded like she was right behind him, where was she, who was she talking to and who…
When he turned back around, the hall was gone and instead he was in the middle of a room, Clarice only a couple feet away from him, kneeling on the ground, her hands cuffed and a collar around her neck. Blood dripped from a wound on her head and she had bruises all over her arms.
He reached for her or at least tried to. He couldn’t move. It was like he was frozen in place, unable to even twitch in her direction. She didn’t even seem to notice him. Across the room, there was a figure all in grey with a needle in his hand and in front of him, wide-eyed and shaking, were JD and Hope.
Fury warred with terror and John tried to rush toward them, to even move an inch forward. He wanted to call out to them but it was as if his jaw was wired shut. JD’s jaw was trembling, and tears were rolling down Hope’s face. His anger burned brighter as he realized both of them were wearing collars.
“I’m not going to hurt them,” the figure said, lifting the needle and brushing the tip across Hope’s cheek, creating a thin red line. “I’m going to cure them.”
No, no, no— John strained against whatever was holding him back.
“Don’t!” Clarice shouted, lunging forward, fighting the cuffs that held her back. Then she turned toward him, her face pale and terrified. “John, wake up, dammit!”
John sat up, fighting with the sheets and blanket, blinking against the sudden darkness after the bright white of what he swiftly realized was a nightmare. A hand landed on his shoulder and then his face, and Clarice was right there, staring at him.
“It’s all right, hey, look at me, it was just a dream,” she said, her fingers combing through his sweat-soaked hair. “You’re okay.”
He grabbed for her, needing to make sure she wasn’t actually hurt. His hands traveled over her arms, checking for the bruises that had been there in his nightmare, fingers grazing her temple. She pressed her own hand to his chest, concern darkening her bright eyes.
“John, take a deep breath. Do not have a heart attack. I don’t think we’re equipped to deal with that.”
He grabbed her hand. “You’re not hurt.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, “But you scared me. You were talking in your sleep and then you started shouting for me and the kids…”
The kids. John closed his eyes and focused, trying to calm down. He could hear JD and Hope’s quiet, steady breaths, both of them comfortably asleep. Clarice cupped his cheek and then kissed him, making him lean into her comforting touch. “It seemed so real.”
“But it wasn’t,” she said, kissing his jawline, “We’re all right.”
John sucked in a long breath and held it, steadying his still-racing heart. Clarice kissed his forehead. “Stay here.”
She started to move, the mattress shifting, and he snagged her by the wrist. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll be right back,” she said, and reluctantly he let her go. She headed out of their room and he leaned forward, his head dropping into his hands. It felt like he was never going to calm down, and now he was anxious, wanting her and the kids with him. He knew it was just a nightmare, but it hadn’t felt like one.
A couple minutes later, Clarice came back, and she wasn’t alone. She was carrying a dozy Hope while JD trailed behind her, looking just as sleepy as his sister. Clarice immediately handed Hope to John, and he wrapped an arm around his daughter, running his thumb along her cheek. No red line. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then reached for JD, tugging him closer as the seven-year-old dropped onto the bed, bleary-eyed and confused.
“What’s going on?” he mumbled, his head dropping against John.
“Nothing, just go to sleep, sweet Jelly Donut,” Clarice said, using JD’s old pet name. She sat down on the edge of the bed and then slid closer to John, pressing herself to his side. John bumped his head gently against hers then kissed her to say thank you. She had known exactly what he needed, what he had to have in order to actually calm down. Still, the nightmare lingered as the kids fell asleep and Clarice stroked his arm soothingly. It wasn’t a safe world, and protecting his family wasn’t a guarantee. He watched Clarice as she started to nod off, and he tightened his arms around her, Hope, and JD. He needed the three of them so much…did they even know how quickly he would crumble without them?