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“Piers? Is everything okay?”
The room is dark and it’s hard to hear anything over the buzzing of the desk fan. Marnie does, however, hear quiet music flowing out of discarded headphones and shuddering, labored breaths. When her eyes adjust to the lack of light, she spots her brother on his bed.
He’s curled up under the covers, his one visible eye wide and locked on Marnie, peeking through the doorway. His hand is frozen mid-scratch in the center of his Obstagoon’s head. The pokemon is equally concerned, and it shows through the look in his eye. Piers’ frame is shaking, as if he fears his sister.
Marnie steps in and closes the door behind her. She’s quiet as she sits on the foot of the bed. She waits until the shaking slows down. It doesn’t stop completely, but it never does. Not until she and Obstagoon can bring him back to the real world.
Piers relaxes only slightly. It takes a moment for him to realize that it’s his sister and no one else there. His chest is tight and he feels like he can’t breathe. He’s scared and desperately needs help. His Obstagoon shifts beneath his hand and clambers onto the bed beside him. He draws his hand beneath the covers and lets Obstagoon cover him protectively. He feels safe there, like the darkness can’t reach him in his hiding spot.
Marnie looks down at her brother. He closes his eyes, pulling beneath the covers more and takes a deep shuddering breath. In a lighter room the tear streaks on his face would have been much more noticeable. But she knows they’re there. It’s a painful sight, to see her usually tough brother in shambles like this. She vows to do whatever she can to help him, just like she does every time this happens.
She reaches up and feels his arm through the thick blanket. It flinches with every movement she makes. She’s tired of this. This is the third time it’s happened this month. She doesn’t know why her brother is the way he is, but she does know it isn’t his fault. All they can do is sit quietly and wait for the storm to pass.
Eventually, Piers gathers the courage to peek over the edge of his cover and watch Marnie. He says nothing as their eyes meet, but there’s pain and confusion. His head is fogged up with fear and he doesn’t know what’s going on. It’s clear through his messy fringe. He looks at her like a wounded pokemon. Marnie’s heart clenches at the sight.
“Piers, it’s going to be okay,” she mutters softly, scooting closer. She hopes that her voice will pull him out of the past and back into the present.
Piers blinks slowly, as if he’s waking up. “Marn?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” she assures him, offering a small smile.
“Marnie, I’m sorry,” Piers’ voice is hoarse. Marnie knows it’s because he’s been crying. “I’m sorry you have to clean up this mess.”
Marnie doesn’t know if he means the broken dish in the kitchen or his own shattered state of mind. She’s not sure if she wants to know.
“It’s nothing, Piers,” Marnie tries to offer. “This is what we do for each other. Always.”
Piers’ shaking slows more, and he gathers the energy to sit up. He can feel himself coming out of a dark haze. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but he feels stiff. His Obstagoon supports him as he leans back a little. Marnie sees that his hair is down and scattered across the sheets like writhing shadows. She wonders if he let his hair down on purpose or if he was pulling on it again.
He’s tired. Piers barely has the energy to sit up. Much less stand and clean up the plate he dropped. He doesn’t know why he couldn’t breath, or who was attacking him. All he remembers is running and hiding. He feels weak and helpless, but Marnie sticks with him while he catches his breath. He’s grateful she’s here, or he’d never make it out of bed. He knows in a few hours, with his sister close to him, he’ll be back out there again. Stronger, this time, he hopes.
“Let’s just relax for a minute,” Marnie suggests with a small smile, laying back on the fluffy comforter. Piers lays back as well, managing to smile back at his sister. At least, he thinks, she’s always here when he gets back.