Chapter 17: Nightmares

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Dalton's POV

Once I'd stormed out, all I could think about was anger, frustration. I was just letting the boy live a little and here I am suffering from it. It wasn't even my fault, he decided to drink the vodka and shots, not me.

I was about to enter the car when I realised the spot where it normally lives was now empty. Fuck. I left it at the party.

That lead to me walking over a mile to reach Savannah's house.

Once I arrived after an agonising walk in the icy winds without a top on, I jumped into the car and drove off, no specific destination in mind. I just drove. I didn't have money nor a phone so most activities weren't an option anyways.

I ended up at Amber's house.

I didn't do anything with her. I didn't want to anyways. We just sat in her living room discussing the previous night. She was a mess. She ended up calling Noah this morning, which lead to their breakup.

I felt for the girl, she was in love with that boy. He meant the world to her and she would have, and would still do anything for him. She was hurting devastatingly bad and I could barely do anything to help.

I spend the entire day with her, talking her out of burning down Noah's house, talking her out of burying him alive, talking her out of keying his precious car.

At night, I decided to stay with her for a while. She had asked me to stay until she had fallen asleep, stating that she wasn't used to sleeping alone and needed the company. The poor girl was tossing and turning for hours, it wasn't until 3am that the bed had finally silenced itself of the creaks, and the air filled with soft snores and breaths.

I would have stayed the night to save myself driving so late, but in all honesty, I felt obliged to check up on Jack. So I straightened myself out, splashed my face with water to wake myself up, and drove home.

Once I got home, all the lights were off and the house was scarily silent. I used the spare key hidden under the door mat to open the front door, the cries of the old wood echoing through the house. I tiptoed up the stairs, desperate to make as little noise as possible.

Once I finally made it to my room, safe and sound, I was taking off my shirt to get into bed when I noticed what Jack was doing.

He was fast asleep in his bed, but he wasn't comfortable. He was twisting his fragile body violently in between the sheets, face screwed up and sweat rolling down his head. His bottom lip was shivering. His arms were thrashing against the sheets, his hands clutching against the covers. The rapid pace of his breath was unhealthy, breathing a mile a minute.

What was wrong with him?

"Jack? Jack? Hey, wake up." I began to shake his arm, my hurried actions seemingly having no impact on his state, whatsoever.

I started to panic.

"Please just wake up, Jack. You're scaring me." My voice grew louder, more rushed. "Jack!" With one more shove to the arm, his whole body shot up, suddenly sitting upright.

It was scary seeing him like this. He was promptly looking around the room, faster than a speeding bullet. His eyes went straight past me at first, as if I weren't there. That left a sinking feeling in my chest that I did not like. They were filled with fear, and tears began to form at the ducts, begging to be released. Heavy and unsteady breaths were still present, however they started to slow down after a second, his eyes finally focusing on me, instantly sighing and releasing his air tight grip on the sheets.

"Hey, I'm here, okay. I'm here." I whispered, shuffling closer and cuddling him into my chest. I could feel the pace of his heartbeat against me, it was scarily fast. This only made me hug him even tighter, burying my head into his shoulder.

I could feel him shaking in my arms, and sniffing every so often. It broke my heart. Seeing him like this actually physically hurt me. It made my heart clench and rip. The memories of seeing someone from my past in this state made me feel sick.

"It's going to be okay, I'm here." I continued to whisper into his hair, hoping to calm him down. It worked.

After a minute or two of holding each other, he finally pulled away, swiftly wiping the tears from his stained eyes and looking up, gazing at me through his damp eyelashes.

"I'm s-so sorry." He bit his bottom lip, anticipating what I was going to say next.

"Hey, hey. Listen," I placed my finger under his chin to bring his face up to me, "You have nothing to be sorry about, I just want to know how to help."

"There's n-nothing you can do."

"Do you know why you get them?" I asked, curious.

He hesitated, focus quickly adjusting to somewhere else in the room. "Uh, oh, um n-no."

"Jack, it's okay, you can be honest with me." My hand climbed to his shoulder, rubbing it gently.

"No, it's fine. Should we just go back to sleep." He pushed my hand away from him and tried to lay down in his bed.

"Jack, for fucks sake, sit up now and talk to me." I said sternly. His eyes widened in shock, before nodding shyly and sitting back up in his previous position. I didn't mean to be stubborn with him, it made me stomach turn when I saw the shocked expression he wore, but I was tired and he wasn't telling me something that I knew he wanted to get off of his chest.

"Sorry." He mumbled, timidly.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped, I just know there's shit you want to tell me but you aren't."

He took a deep breath, finally locking eyes with me before speaking again. "It's a night terror, and I know why I get them." He sighed. I nodded, signalling for him to continue, which he did. "I get them w-when I'm uhm really stressed or nervous."

My eyebrows raised, silently asking him why he was nervous, surely there was nothing for him to be worried about.

"I was uh, I was worr- it doesn't even matter." His cheeks were a deep flush of red, blood rushing though the delicate skin.

"Jack." My face fell bored, purely wanting the truth out of him.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I was worried a-about uhm you." He mumbled the last bit under his breath.

"Worried about me?" I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Yeah. You left after the a-argument and uh you didn't have your phone or any money and you didn't even have a top on and I waited for you to come back b-but you just didn't and I tried to stay up and wait, I'm sorry I fell asleep. I was so worried you were upset and alone or hurt and in trouble somewhere. I even went to the court to find you but you weren't there." Words came flying out of his mouth, lightening fast.

"Wait, woah. The court? That's like 3 miles away, you walked?"

"Yes." His answer was short and blunt, quiet too, almost inaudible. "Look, I'm sorry, I know you can look after yourself and this is just embarrassing like why should I be worried about you, it's not as if I can help if you were in trouble or somethi-"

"Jack, shut up, okay." He instantly stopped speaking and looked up at me, scared of my expression. However, there were no need. My eyes were swarmed with admiration for the boy awkwardly sat in front of me.

Recently, no one had ever cared about me as much as he did. I mean, I doubt my parents even noticed I was gone, yet Jack was apparently very concerned. He was willing to walk over 3 miles to check up on me. That was beyond sweet. The concern he had for me made me want to hold him and never fucking let go.

"I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm sorry I made you worry, I promise I won't do it again." I shuffled on his bed until I was sitting next to him with my back resting against the wall.

He moved back so that he was in the same position as me and rested his head backwards on the wall. Light tears had fallen from his eyes and instinct made my lift my arm to feverishly wipe the tears away. His jaw clenched as I did this.

The next few minutes were silent. It wasn't uncomfortable though. Jack had closed his eyes and was trying to drift off to sleep again. I watched him, not to sound creepy but he was beautiful. His freshly flushed cheeks and tousled hair that fell over his head was truly a picturesque sight.

I was in the midst of observing every unique feature on his face when his body stiffened and his eyes shot open. His eyes instantly found mine, quickly registering the concern on my face.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just scared to fall asleep again." He whispered, tense and agitated.

"Hey, it's okay, come here. I've got you, okay?" I gently wrapped my arm around his frail body and pulled him as close as possible, before gently wrapping it around his shoulder, gesturing for him to rest his head on my chest; he did so in a docile manner. He sunk into the warmth off my side, appreciative of the small but thoughtful gesture.

I held onto him tight, never wanting the moment to end. He was cushioned against me. His body fit like a puzzle piece into my side. The moment was perfect. And what made it ever so slightly better were the soft snores that soon danced around the room once Jack had fallen into a deep and peaceful slumber.

I spent that night thinking. I was thinking about how my friendship with Jack developed so quickly. I tried to ignore it but there is a real valid reason why I suddenly care for him. The person in my past, they were so similar to Jack. Seeing Jack happy reminds me of their laughter. Seeing Jack hurt reminds me of their pain. That's why when ever Jack seemed uncomfortable or heavy hearted, I feel a strong and demanding urge to help him in my own way to ensure he doesn't follow in the footsteps of the person in my past.

There was no particular thing he did that made me realise this, it was the accumulation of little things. The way he would overthink, worry too much, get excited over little things, it all felt too familiar.

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