Chapter Text
Today was Friday evening, which meant that Lucas had finished his week of placement in orthopedic physical therapy. He usually enjoyed it, feeling useful and searching new ways of helping bodies heal but today had been rough, it was the least he could say. He had to deal with a patient’s case that had made him feel quite uncomfortable: it was a teenage girl who had all of her limbs broken in a car accident and needed to relearn how to walk after multiple surgeries. He wanted to forget, so badly, about what it reminded him of, but he just couldn’t fully shake the suffocating feeling that came every time he had to interact with her. He was aware that letting his own personal bagage interfere with his work wasn’t the most professional thing and that the poor girl needed a strong team to support her, even his own supervisor had commented on how dreadful Lucas looked before entering her room.
He sighed as he stepped inside the apartment he shared with Max, put down his keys on the small dish by the door and then suddenly noticed it. It smelled faintly of burned electronics. Panic and confusion painted his face as he tried to figure out where it came from, he checked the kitchen and the living room but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
He then turned to the bathroom and heard an intense buzzing sound coming from the fluorescent lights as they suddenly started flickering. Before he could try to understand what was happening or if it was even linked to the supernatural events that took place more than a decade ago, the warm yellow of the phosphor coating abruptly broke. The whole room basked in surgical blue light and Lucas couldn’t tell where he was anymore.
Harsh breaths were escaping his mouth as he felt his heartbeat hammering in his chest and sweat gathering on his forehead. He felt his cheeks dripping wet, when did he start crying?
In front of him was his beloved, her limbs twisted unnaturally, cheeks tainted by streams of blood, choking sounds coming from her throat, syllabi of his name barely heard above a whisper.
Panic crashed in his blood as he tried to shake the agonizing body of his girlfriend in his arms.
"Max! Max! Stay with me!" he implored as he squeezed her against him, he couldn’t let her slip away from him again, he couldn’t bare the pain and guilt of having her die in his arms, again.
How could he live with her death on his conscience? She trusted him with his life, trusted him to bring her back to reality with her Walkman but what did he do? He let it break. He lost his best friend, the girl he loved the most, the one who would make him laugh so much his cheeks would hurt after spending time together. The strong, courageous, smart, beautiful, prickly girl he ignored when she was going through so much.
The guilt was so immense he couldn’t even talk anymore or shout her name into the void.
As he sobbed uncontrollably, he heard a soft voice calling his name, he couldn’t figure out from where it came from, everything felt so foggy and disturbing around him. The Creel attic was old and the walls covered in cobwebs, Jason’s unconscious body was lying around him and there were no windows.
"Lucas, I’m here" the voice was now clearer as he felt warm hands slowly rubbing his back up and down, grounding him; he had been shaking like a leaf. The soft warm skin and steady heartbeat pressed to his face comforted him. Where did that come from?
"You’re safe, Lucas" he felt the grip around him tighten, a faint scent of sandalwood underneath his nose. He turned his head slightly and registered that he was buried in the crook of Max’s neck, he felt exhausted, as if he had ran a marathon.
"Max?" he tried, tentatively.
"Yes, I’m right here, baby" she looked at him and he could see the mix of softness and worry in her eyes. These baby blue eyes that grounded him to her, contrasting so much with the indigo of the light he still didn’t know truly existed or not.
"What… happened? Where… am I?" he asked, his eyes shaking, he was so confused.
"I came back from uni and I found you on the bathroom floor, crying and screaming my name," He saw her gaze break, pain reflected in her furrowed brows, "you looked terrified and then after that your gaze was completely blank," she brushed her fingers over the hair on his nape. Her light touch helped him calm down a bit.
"But we’ll discuss that later, right now you need to rest" she added in a mostly stable voice. She recognized the clear symptoms of a PTSD episode, her degree training her to recognize and understand them and herself being subjected to them —now mostly under control with her treatment—.
"I’m sorry Max, I’m so sorry" he said, hands shaking, he kept repeating that sentence over and over.
"Baby, you have nothing to apologize for, I’m here" she replied before holding him to her chest. She kept murmuring reassuring words between kisses to his hair until the shaking calmed down, then, she slowly helped him on his feet, steering him towards their bedroom to rest.
He was finally asleep in her arms on their neatly done bed he had the habit to make in the morning. Max kept stroking his hair the same way he usually would do when she needed reassurance or woke up agitated from nightmares parasitizing her sleep.
Seeing him sleeping peacefully made her remember how he looked in middle school, so innocent and kind, with his warm chocolate eyes and his constant grin painted on his boyish face. She smiled softly as she lightly scratched his facial hair with her nails and felt so grateful to be still alive to see him get older by her side. Delicately, she pressed a long kiss to Lucas’ forehead, symbol of the deep protectiveness and love she felt for him and a parallel to all those nights she was the one in his strong, soothing arms.