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Finn can’t sleep, but what else is new. Ever since he escaped the grabber, it’s not surprising that falling asleep has been challenging. No matter how many night lights he has, when he closes his eyes, the darkness returns, and he’s back in the basement. Every creak is the sound of the grabber walking down the stairs with a plate of scrambled eggs and another game to play with him.
When he finally drifts off to sleep, he’s woken up again moments later by his brain convincing him of the grabbers footsteps down the hall. He knows it’s not real. He knows that he’s safe, at home, and the grabber is dead. He opens his eyes, shaking himself awake and waiting for his ears to realize what he already knows. These footsteps are too small to be The Grabber’s. The footsteps stop. But they’re followed by the careful sound of a door being carefully opened and closed, and a less careful thunk. Then one more sound, one that Finney’s mind had definitely not made up.
He climbed out of bed and started down the hall to the closed bathroom door. He knocked once. No answer.
“Gwen?”
He peaked through the doorway into the living room, seeing his dad on the couch out like a light.
He knocked again. “Gwen, I know it’s you.”. Finney sighed, expecting to get no response. He didn’t want to barge in, but knew what he heard. Finally, he heard his sister whine from behind the door, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of gagging. This was permission enough for Finn, pushing the door open and taking his place behind his little sister like he’d done when she’s been sick before, keeping her quiet so she wouldn’t wake their father. Before, he’d kept her quiet to not anger him. Now, he just wants to let his father rest. Finney’s not the only Blake who’s had trouble sleeping lately.
He gathered her long brown hair from his sister’s face, ignoring the wetness of the pieces in front, just in time for Gwen to lurch forward with another strong heave and pour of vomit. Tears slid down her face from the effort.
“You’re okay Gwenny.”, the boy whispered.
“Did I wake you.” She said between coughs.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He said, which was mostly true.
“You should go back to bed” She sniffed. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”
Ever since their mom died, her brother had always taken care of her.
“Why not?” Finney asked, rubbing circles on her sweaty back. She tried to respond, but was met with another round of vomit.
Finn knew why.
“We take care of each other. Nothing can change that.” Not even The Grabber.
Gwen leaned into her brother, exhausted. He grabbed a piece of toilet paper, wiping her face and flushing the toilet. He felt the heat radiating off of her. Since his time in the cold basement, Finney can’t remember when he last felt this warm.
“You good to get back to bed?”
“No. Still nauseous.”
So they stayed there, on the cold bathroom floor. Finney stood up, gently moving her off him. He opened the cabinet, happy to see exactly what he was looking for. He sat back down beside his sister, new wielding a thermometer and hairbrush. He took her temperature, unsurprised at the number reading 102.2. he sat down on the edge of the tub beside her, running the brush through her hair slowly, careful not to snag on any tangled bits. Gwen seemed to relax. It’s weird seeing her so calm, without even a hint of her usual fierce attitude and sarcasm.
By the time her long brown hair was brushed out Gwen had begun drifting off, her head resting on the toilet seat. He pulls a hair tie off his own wrist and starts braiding her hair. It’s not the neatest braid in the world, but it’s better than he’s done in the past.
“Gwenny.” He whispered.
She mumbled a response.
“You need to get to bed. That’s nasty anyway.” He said, gesturing to her head on the toilet bowl. She groaned, but started to push herself off the ground, swaying as she stands Finn wraps an arm around her, guiding her back to her room.
“I can walk on my own dipshit.” There’s the spunky pre-teen he knows.
“Sure.” He says, tightening his grip.
As soon as they reach her bed, she burrows her head below her pillows, holding one stuffed animal against her stomach. Finney pulls over a trash can and is happy to see a glass of water already sitting on her nightstand.
“Drink some water and then you can go back to sleep.”
She groans again, but sits up, her eyes remaining closed. She reluctantly takes a couple sips of water until her big brother is satisfied.
“Okay. Scoot over.”
That night, all three members of the Blake family were finally able to sleep.
(Until Gwen woke up to throw up the water she just drank.)