“YOUR MUSE CUDDLING MINE AS THEY SETTLE DOWN TO SLEEP”
It wasn’t the first time. Or the second. Not even top five. She kept waking the whole house. Granted, there were only about a dozen people who lived here, if that, but it was enough to be profoundly embarrassing every time she walked downstairs the next morning to them all trying not to stare at her while they ate breakfast. Sometimes she tried not to fall asleep because if she didn’t sleep then she wouldn’t dream and her terrible dreams wouldn’t shake the foundation like they lived in a snow globe. But then sometimes it was worse, countless startles as she nearly drifts to sleep like miniature earthquakes threatening to tilt them into an abyss.
She doesn’t want to sleep tonight. She has a big wad of gum in her mouth, chewing it fast to help her stay awake. There’s a rubber band around her ankle and she snaps it every few seconds, glancing around the room and out the window to see the dark outside. The dark beckons. It tells her if she falls asleep she’ll be safe. But it’s not her safety or comfort she worries about. On the nightstand are the pills Hank had begun giving her, the ones that knocked her out so she wouldn’t even dream. But the not dreaming was worse sometimes, it was like being dead. She didn’t wanna die.
His thoughts invade hers long before he knocks on the door. Concern for her. How he wants to fix this for her. She opens the door for him without moving, giving him what she hopes is a welcoming smile and not an exhausted grimace. “Jeannie...” Bobby frowns, his worry palpable even to people who didn’t have her powers. He doesn’t say anything else before he’s climbing beside her, urging her smaller frame to lay back. “I’ve got you.”
“No-” she protests, but his arms and the bed feel like being encased in cotton comfort. “Bobby, I don’t wanna hurt you.” She feels a lump in her throat at her words. She knows she will, it was only a matter of time before she hurt everybody she loved.
“I’m not afraid of you,” he says firmly, his voice full of so much kindness it makes the tears she’s been holding back for weeks fill up her eyes. He had all of her kindness in his pinky finger and she didn’t understand how he did it. “Close your eyes, Jeannie,” he whispers with his chin tucked against the top of her head, holding her close enough for her to feel his heartbeat against her palm.
She does, keeping her face hidden by the collar of his sleep shirt and she can feel the darkness creeping in. “Thank you,” she murmurs as she lets it.
