Fifty-Four (Tim); Aftermath.
I watch Heather doing her usual morning tasks, brushing her hair, cleaning her face with some crap from a bottle, everything's 'normal'. She's acting normally... Well, normally for her, anyway! No sign that last night affected her. She is, after all, an actress, I guess!
She turns her head sharply, suddenly, catching me looking at her. Maybe I was wrong about last night not affecting her; when her eyes first met mine they were dark with worry and they were -how best to put it?- haunted. I guess that's the only word to describe them. Haunted. She smiles, relief tinging the blue of her eyes. Who -or what- was she expecting to see? I don't know. I guess the nightmare affected her more than I guessed. It's not the first she's had; I've woken up of a night to find her tossing and turning restlessly, but she always settled down after a moment or two, usually not even waking up. This is the first nightmare she's had that's caused me to have to wake her. And I've never heard her scream before. Shout, yes. Cheer, many times. Shriek, squeal, holler, but never scream with as much terror as she did last night. She won't tell me what the nightmare was about, just says she 'doesn't remember', but she was pleading with someone/something to leave her alone, and get away from her. I'm not even going to pretend I could try and figure out what it was about, I just have to hope she'll tell me of her own accord, eventually.
I held her. It was the only thing I could do. I felt so helpless, so inadequate, because I couldn't stop whatever-it-was from hurting her. She was shaking like crazy , but after a while she stopped. I'd like to think it was because she was in my arms, but that's highly unlikely. How could I ever comfort anyone?
I didn't sleep after that. Heather did; she eventually slipped away, back to her subconscious, but I wanted to be awake, in case she had another nightmare, so I could comfort her again, chase away the demons. When she awoke from the nightmare the first time, with her eyes so wide, I think I might just have caught a glimpse of who she really is. The 'real' Heather. All the masquerading done, the 'images', the 'masks', the 'fa�ade' gone, just the bare truth, the raw emotion. It kinda scared me, the vulnerability I saw there. I guess in a way I've come to depend on her, and seeing that maybe she might depend on me was a shock, in a kinda weird way. I suppose I rather took for granted the very tight hold she has on her emotions -even though I always tell her not to hide them and bottle them up like she does- and I think there was a part of me that assumed she didn't really feel things as deeply as I do, a bit like Danny; the emotions so far hidden they're not a problem anymore. I guess we're all just human though, when it comes down to it. She's there for me every time I wake, shaking in a cold sweat, and she whispers to me, chasing away my demons, croons away the darkness, yet all the time she's dealing with her own problems.
I don't think I know what I'm talking about any more... I shake my head and get up, running a weary hand through my hair. Sometimes I don't see why we have to start filming at such a Godforsaken hour...
"You off?" Heather asks, uncurling from her seat and getting up. She's so feline; even though she's small, she still has the easy grace of a dangerous predator. Which is silly, because she really isn't intimidating. I nod, and she sighs softly. "No coffee?"
"Don't think I've got time," I shrug apologetically. I look carefully at her, searching her eyes for those flashes of 'her'. There's nothing. She blinks, and before I break the gaze I can see a darkness hiding there, and a raw, wild energy, that I want to harness, to use, for - something.
"Okay... Any preferences on dinner?"
"No idea, sorry," I say quietly. Heather shakes her head, then leans up and kisses me.
"Don't worry... Tim?"
"Yeah?"
"Love you."
Chapter 53 ; Contents ; Chapter 55
