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She clawed blindly at the rigid arms that hauled her away, unable to tear her eyes from the crumpled form in front of her. Blood poured onto the concrete as the pounding rain swiftly spread it further. There was so much blood. She was captured. He was gone.
Gone. Gone…
~~
She’d had nightmares before, terrifying ones at that. But never ones that involved such an overwhelming feeling of his death. In the two months of separation from Unit Bravo, she had managed to reel in her nightmares to a more controllable level. Upon reconnecting with the team, they seem to be steadily returning to their former strength. She chided herself over her self-perceived lack of control, but their presence served as a reminder to what she stood to lose. She wasn’t afraid of the supernatural; it actually seemed to explain a lot of things for her. However, she couldn’t erase that horrific encounter with Murphy from seeping into her once peaceful dreams.
She’d had nightmares while staying at the Agency’s headquarters before. In fact, she found Nate one of those times and had a meaningful conversation with him before heading back to bed. As they grew closer, her fear of somehow losing him also grew, stemming from that lingering imagine of his body collapsed on the ground. She refrained from letting it affect her in the waking hours, but it haunted her sleeping mind.
~~
The image replayed in her mind, over and over again. Doomed to repeat until it became too unbearable and she would awaken.
Her face was streaked with tears, but the image of his body remained clear and unrelentingly vivid to her misfortune. With every passing replay, the vision would become more gruesome, her mind twisting and perverting her fear into ghastly untruths. She yelled at the sight before her, willing him to get up. Willing him to do anything to give her a sign, give her hope.
Nate! … Nate!
The arms that suffocated her in their grip loosened, turning warm and gentle…
Her eyes shot open, breathe ragged, throat dry. A weight settled on the edge of her bed. A soft hand gently grasped her arm, another cradled her face. Her eyes searched the darkness as she fell back into reality.
“Nate,” she whispered, her wide glassy eyes finally settling on his kind gaze. His brow was tightly knit in concern, lips drawn taut in worry.
“Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay Anya,” he breathed.
His hand shifted from her face down to her arm, mirroring his other hand. She shifted out from under what little covers remained on her body, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. Nate’s hands slowly drifted down the length of her arms as he placed them in his own lap. She missed his warmth immediately. The care in his eyes could have swallowed her whole and she would have been happy to drown in it.
“How did you know?” She asked, her voice wavering in the otherwise silent room.
“You called for me,” he simply responded, his eyes never leaving her own.
“Oh,” she muttered, shifted her eyes down to her knees as her embarrassment washed over her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”
“Anya,” he shifted towards her, “you could never be a bother to me.” His eyes swam with sincerity.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He hesitantly asked. He placed a warm hand over hers, lightly moving his thumb back and forth.
She inhaled in deeply, still trying to get her breathe under control. Her gaze shifted all across her room, never landing on one place.
“I-” She wavered, closing her eyes to find respite. Her eyes opened to find his, welcoming and safe.
“After the incident with Murphy, I started having pretty rough nightmares. I thought that I had gotten them under control, but now they’ve been getting worse. These ones are different though. I’m not sure how to explain it.” She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in thought. His gaze remained unwavering in its comfort.
“It’s like… I was entirely alone in the first ones. There was nothing around me but the sound of his voice. I felt so empty.” She paused, her gaze drifting from his own as she remembered the sinking feeling that used to overwhelm her.
“Now though… I’m no longer alone, but…” her eyes brimmed with the beginnings of tears. She shifted her eyes back up to meet his. “You die every time.”
He tried to mask the surprise that danced over his face. His brows pulled up softly, mouth parting slightly.
“Oh Anya,” He pulled her into his embrace as she nestled her face in the crook of his neck. Her hot tears wet his skin and his own formed of their own volition. Her shaky hands wrapped around his waist and held him tight.
“I can’t lose you, Nate.” Her words would have been lost to anyone else, but he heard them clearly as they breathed across his neck. He sighed deeply, rubbing circles on her back.
“I know the feeling,” he hummed, placing a tender kiss on the top of her head.
She sat contentedly in his embrace. As they breathed together, she became calmer, finding refuge in his warmth. She pulled back slightly, wiping the drying tears from her face.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, breaking the silence with a hushed tone.
“Better,” she smiled up at him, eyes still red and slightly puffy.
He rose from her bed to stand beside her, pressing a kiss onto her forehead.
“You should try to get some rest,” he whispered into her hair before turning to leave.
She grabbed his wrist and he looked back at her in surprise. Her eyes shifted down from his to where she held his hand. She sat there for a moment more, an unasked question caught in her throat. He waited for her.
“Will you stay?” She shyly asked. Her eyes slowly made their way back to his. “Please.”
A smile ghosted across his lips as he nodded.
“Of course.” He rounded the bed to the other side and gently pulled back the covers. He slid under them and rolled to his side. She mirrored his movements so that they were face to face. His hand cautiously fluttered up her arm, resting on her shoulder. In a fit of courage, she shifted closer to him, timidly wrapping an arm around his waist. She was certain that he could feel how her heartbeat steadily rose. He slipped his own hand around her waist and she curled up against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Wordlessly, they rested in each other’s embrace. Anya’s eyes grew heavy as the warmth of his arms and calming scent coaxed her into sleeping. As she straddled the bridge between waking and sleeping, she barely registered his whispered words.
“Sweet dreams, my dear Anya.”