Of all the sleepless
nights I'd endured, this had to be the worst. As if having a 300
pound man lying next to you apparently going through night terrors
didn't automatically qualify it. I hold his face in my hands as I
call his name, trying with everything in me to fight him awake. He's
fighting off some unseen and apparently terrible foe, and every move
I make to wake him fails. The fighting and the cussing suddenly
breaks and he's still for a moment. Next he commences to a mournful
death whimper as if he's lost someone, leading to tears streaming
down his face. "MARK!" I pronounce once again shaking him.
"Mark
come back to me!" I'm obviously afraid now, this isn't Mark at
all.
He springs to life, searching around the room for a presence. "Mark..." He fixes his gaze on me and I can see his muscle relax, his whole composure going limp with relief at the sight of me. When he buries his face in his hands I ease up to him. I don't want him to fight me too. "Markā¦" He's on the edge of sobbing now, hiding his face from me to protect his pride. That moment I take him in my arms, holding him. I choose not to say anything, just to sit there with him and brush his hair back from his face. I know by now not to ask what was wrong. This has happened before and I'll probably meet the same disapproving look if I inquire further.
He looks up at me with red rimmed eyes. No words are needed for me to understand what he's saying. He knows he's scared me, he's broken his pride by openly weeping in front of me. I hoped my holding him tighter conveyed that nothing mattered as long as I had him back with me. Finally I con him back into sleep, my head on his chest to remind him where he really is. I wish I could travel into his dream world with him, fight off whoever, whatever was torturing him so. As I close my eyes the wind picks up outside and a heavy rain starts to fall, lulling me off into my own dreams.
Disclaimer: I don't own Mark (aka The Undertaker) or any other WWE character. However I did create the OC in this.
